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xl'«« 


THE 

PLAYS  AND  POEMS 

OF 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE, 

T\  WITH    THE 

CORRECTIONS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

OF 

VARIOUS  COMMENTATORS: 

COMPREHENDING 

%  Eife  of  tjje  $oet> 

AND 

AN  ENLARGED  HISTORY  OF  THE  STAGE, 

BY 

THE  LATE  EDMOND  MALONE. 

WITH  A  NEW  GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


TH2  *T2EG2   TPAMMATET5   HN,    TON   KAAAMON 

AnOBPEXGN  EI2  NOTN.  Vet.  Auct.  apud  Suidam. 


VOL.  XVII. 


LONDON: 

PRINTED  FOR  F.  C.  AND  J.  RIVINGTON  ;  T.  EGERTON ;  J.  CUTHELL  ;  SCATCHERD 
AND  LETTERMAN ;  LONGMAN,  HURST,  REES,  ORME,  AND  BROWN  ;  CADELL 
AND  DAVIES;  LACKINGTON  AND  CO.  ;  J.BOOKER;  BLACK  AND  CO.;  J.  BOOTH  ; 
J.RICHARDSON;  J.M.RICHARDSON;  J.MURRAY;  J.HARDING;  R.  H.EVANS; 
J.  MAWMAN;  R.  SCHOLEY;  T.  EARLE ;  J.  BOHN  ;  C.BROWN;  GRAY  AND  SON  ; 
R.  PHENEY  ;  BALDWIN,  CRADOCK,  AND  JOY  ;  NEWMAN  AND  CO.  ;  OGLES,  DUN- 
CAN, AND  CO.;  T.HAMILTON;  W.WOOD;  J.  SHELDON;  E.EDWARDS;  WHIT- 
MORE  AND  FENN ;  W.  MASON  ;  G.  AND  W.  B.  WHITTAKER  ;  SIMPKIN  AND 
MARSHALL;  R.  SAUNDERS:  J.  DEIGHTON  AND  SONS,  CAMBRIDGE:  WILSON 
AND  SON,  YORK  :  AND  STIRLING  AND  SLADE,  FAIRBAIRN  AND  ANDERSON, 
AND  D.  BROWN,    EDINBURGH. 

1821. 


C.  Baldwin,  Printer, 
New  Bridrc  -street.  London. 


HENRY  IV.  PART  II. 
HENRY  V. 


293837 


KING    HENRY    IV. 


PART  II. 


VOL.  XVIF. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


JL  HE  transactions  comprized  in  this  history  take  up  about  nine 
years.  The  action  commences  with  the  account  of  Hotspur's 
being  defeated  and  killed  [14-03]  ;  and  closes  with  the  death  of 
King  Henry  IV.  and  the  coronation  of  King  Henry  V.  [14- 12- 13.] 

Theobald. 

This  play  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  August  23,  1600. 

Steevens. 

The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  I  suppose  to  have  been 
written  in  1598.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of Shak- 
speare's  Plays,  vol.  ii.     M alone. 

Mr  Upton  thinks  these  two  plays  improperly  called  The  First 
and  Second  Parts  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  The  first  play  ends,  he 
says,  with  the  peaceful  settlement  of  Henry  in  the  kingdom  by  the 
defeat  of  the  rebels.  This  is  hardly  true ;  for  the  rebels  are  not 
yet  finally  suppressed.  The  second,  he  tells  us,  shows  Henry  the 
Fifth  in  the  various  lights  of  a  good-natured  rake,  till,  on  his  father's 
death,  he  assumes  a  more  manly  character.  This  is  true ;  but 
this  representation  gives  us  no  idea  of  a  dramatick  action.  These 
two  plays  will  appear  to  every  reader,  who  shall  peruse  them  with- 
out ambition  of  critical  discoveries,  to  be  so  connected,  that  the 
second  is  merely  a  sequel  to  the  first  ;  to  be  two  only  because  they 
are  too  long  to  be  one.     Johnson. 

Of  this  play  there  are  two  quartos,  in  Mr.  Malone's  Collection, 
both  printed  in  the  same  year,  1600;  but  it  is  doubtful  whether 
they  are  different  editions,  or  only  the  one  a  corrected  impression 
of  the  other,  from  some  omissions  having  passed  in  the  first. 
See  them  more  particularly  described  in  the  list  of  quartos,  vol.  ii. 

Mr.  Steevens  in  a  subsequent  note,  speaks  of  a  third,  but  I 
have  never  seen  it.  I  have  referred  to  that  which  Mr.  Malone 
supposed  to  be  the  first  by  the  letter  A.  to  the  other,  by  letter  B. 

Bo  SWELL. 


B  2 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


>his  Sons. 


nd;  t 


Enemies  to 


King  Henry  the  Fourth  : 

Henry,  Prince   of  Wales,    afterwards  ^ 
King  Henry  V ; 

Thomas,  Duke  of  Clarence  ; 

Prince  John  of  Lancaster  l,  after- 
wards (2  Henry  V.)  Duke  of 
Bedford ; 

Prince  Humphrey  of  Gloster,  after- 
wards (2  Henry  V.)  Duke  of 
Gloster ; 

Earl  of  Warwick  : 

Earl  of  Westmoreland  ;  J-  of  the  King's  Party. 

Gower  ;  Harcourt  ; 

Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench. 

A  Gentleman  attending  on  the  Chief  Justice. 

Earl  of  Northumberland  ; 

Scroop  ;  Archbishop  of  York  ; 

Lord  Mowbray;  Lord  Hastings  ; 

Lord  Bardolph  ;  Sir  John  Cole-  |       e  mnS- 
vile  ;  J 

Travers  and  Morton,  Domesticks  of  Northum- 
berland. 

Falstaff,  Baradlph,  Pistol,  and  Page. 

Poins  and  Peto,  Attendants  on  Prince  Henry. 

Shallow  and  Silence,  Country  Justices. 

Davy,  Servant  to  Shallow. 

Mouldy,  Shallow,  Wart,  Feeble,  and  Bull- 
calf,  Recruits. 

Fang  and  Snare,  Sheriff's  Officers. 

Rumour.     A  Porter. 

A  Dancer,  Speaker  of  the  Epilogue. 

Lady  Northumberland.     Lady  Percy. 
Hostess  Quickly.     Doll  Tear-sheet. 

Lords   and  other   Attendants ;    Officers,    Soldiers, 
Messenger,  Drawers,  Beadles,  Grooms,  &c. 

SCENE,  England. 

1  See  note  under  the  Persons  Dramatis  of  the  First  Part  of  this 
play.     Steevens. 


INDUCTION. 


Warkworth.     Before  Northumberland's  Castle. 

Enter  Rumour  2,  painted  full  of  Tongues 3. 

Rum.  Open  your  ears;   For  which  of  you  will 
stop 
The  vent  of  hearing,  when  loud  Rumour  speaks  ? 

*  Enter  Rumour,]  This  speech  of  Rumour  is  not  inelegant 
or  unpoetical,  but  it  is  wholly  useless,  since  we  are  told  nothing 
which  the  first  scene  does  not  clearly  and  naturally  discover.  The 
only  end  of  such  prologues  is  to  inform  the  audience  of  some  facts 
previous  to  the  action,  of  which  they  can  have  no  knowledge  from 
the  persons  of  the  drama.     Johnson. 

3  —  Rumour,  painted  full  of  tongues.]  This  the  author 
probable  drew  from  Holinshed's  Description  of  a  Pageant,  ex- 
hibited in  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  with  uncommon  cost  and  mag- 
nificence :  "  Then  entered  a  person  called  Report,  apparelled  in 
crimson  sattin,  full  of  toongs,  or  chronicles."  Vol.  iii.  p.  805. 
This  however  might  be  the  common  way  of  representing  this 
personage  in  masques,  which  were  frequent  in  his  own  times. 

T.  Warton. 
Stephen  Hawes,  in  his  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  had  long  ago  ex- 
hibited her  (Rumour)  in  the  same  manner  : 

"  A  goodly  lady,  envyroned  about 

"  With  tongues  of  fire ." 

And  so  had  Sir  Thomas  More,  in  one  of  his  Pageants  : 
"  Fame  I  am  called,  merveyle  you  nothing 
"  Thoughe  with  tonges  I  am  compassed  all  rounde." 
Not  to  mention  her  elaborate  portrait  by  Chaucer,   in  The  Booke 
of  Fame  ;  and  by  John  Higgins,  one  of  the  assistants  in  The 
Mirror  for  Magistrates,  in  his  Legend  of  King  Albanacte. 

Farmer. 
In    a  masque    presented    on  St.  Stephen's  night,   1614,  by 
Thomas  Campion,  Rumour  comes  on  in  askin-coat/u//  of  winged 
togues. 


6  INDUCTION. 

I  from  the  orient  to  the  drooping  west 4, 
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 : 
And  who  but  Rumour,  who  but  only  I, 
Make  fearful  musters,  and  prepared  defence  ; 
Whilst  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 5 
Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures  ; 


Rumour  is  likewise  a  character  in  Sir  Clyomon,  Knight  of  the 
Golden  Shield,  &c.  1599. 

So  also,  in  The  whole  magnificent  Entertainment  given  to 
King  James,  and  the  Queen  his  Wife,  &c.  &c.  15th  March,  1603, 
by  Thomas  Decker,  4to.  1604- :  "  Directly  under  her  in  a  cart  by 
herselfe,  Fame  stood  upright :  a  woman  in  a  watchet  roabe, 
thickly  set  with  open  eyes  and  tongues,  a  payre  of  large  golden 
winges  at  her  backe,  a  trumpet  in  her  hand,  a  mantle  of  sundry 
cullours  traversing  her  body :  all  these  ensignes  displaying  but 
the  propertie  of  her  swiftnesse  and  aptnesse  to  disperse  Rumoure." 

Steevens. 

W  —  painted  full  of  tongues."  This  direction,  which  is  only  to 
be  found  in  the  first  edition  in  quarto  of -1600,  explains  a  passage 
in  what  follows,  otherwise  obscure.     Pope. 

4  —  the  drooping  west,]  A  passage  in  Macbeth  will  best 
explain  the  force  of  this  epithet : 

"  Good  things  of  day  begin  to  droop  and  drowse, 
"  And  night's  black  agents  to  their  preys  do  rouse." 

Malone. 

5  Rumour  is  a  pipe — ]  Here  the  poet  imagines  himself 
describing  Rumour,  and  forgets  that  Rumour  is  the  speaker. 

Johnson. 
Surely  this  is  a  mistake.   Rumour  is  giving  her  own  description, 
but  says  of  herself: 

" what  need  I  thus 

"  My  well  known  body  to  anatomize 
'f  Among  my  household  ?  " 
And  then  proceeds  to  tell  why  she  was  come.     Boswell. 


INDUCTION.  7 

And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop  6, 

That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted  heads, 

The  still-discordant  wavering  multitude, 

Can  play  upon  it.     But  what  need  I  thus 

My  well-known  body  to  anatomize 

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  abroad, — that  Harry  Monmouth  fell 

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  stone7, 

Where  Hotspur's  father,  old  Northumberland, 

Lies  crafty-sick :  the  posts  come  tiring  on, 

6  —  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop,]  The  stops  are  the  holes  in  a 
flute  or  pipe.  So,  in  Hamlet :  "  Govern  these  ventages  with 
your  finger  and  thumb : — Look  you,  these  are  the  stops."  Again  : 
"  You  would  seem  to  know  my  stops."     Steevens. 

1  And  this  worm-eaten  hold  of  ragged  stone,]  The  old  copies 
read — "  worm-eaten  hole."     Malone. 

Northumberland  had  retired  and  fortified  himself  in  his  castle, 
a  place  of  strength  in  those  times,  though  the  building  might  be 
impaired  by  its  antiquity  ;  and,  therefore,  I  believe  our  poet 
wrote : 

"  And  this  worm-eaten  hold  of  ragged  stone."  Theobald. 
Theobald  is  certainly  right.     So,   in  The  Wars  of  Cyrus,  &c. 
1594-: 

"  Besieg'd  his  fortress  with  his  men  at  arms, 
"  Where  only  I  and  that  Libanio  stay'd 
"  By  whom  I  live.     For  when  the  hold  was  lost,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

"  She  is  hard  by  with  twenty  thousand  men, 

"  And  therefore  fortify  your  hold,  my  lord."     Steevens. 


8  INDUCTION. 

And  not  a  man  of  them  brings  other  news 

Than  they  have  learn'd  of  me ;    From  Rumour's 

tongues 
They  bring  smooth  comforts  false,  worse  than  true 

wrongs.  [Exit. 


SECOND  PART  OF 

KING    HENRY    IV. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 
The  Same. 


The  Porter  before  the  Gate;   Enter  Lord  Bar- 
dolph. 
Bard.  Who  keeps  the  gate  here,  ho  ? — Where  is 

the  earl  ? 
Port.  What  shall  I  say  you  are  ? 
Bard.  Tell  thou  the  earl, 

That  the  lord  Bardolph  doth  attend  him  here. 
Port.  His  lordship  is  walk'd  forth  into  the  or- 
chard ; 
Please  it  your  honour,  knock  but  at  the  gate, 
And  he  himself  will  answer. 

Enter  Northumberland. 

Bard.  Here  comes  the  earl. 

.    North.  What  news,  lord  Bardolph  ?  every  mi- 
nute now 
Should  be  the  father  of  some  stratagem 8 : 
The  times  are  wild ;  contention,  like  a  horse 


8  —  some  stratagem  :]  Some  stratagem  means  here  some 
great,  important,  or  dreadful  event.  So,  in  The  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI,  the  father  who  had  killed  his  son  says  : 

"  O  pity,  God  !  this  miserable  age  ! 

*  What  stratagems,  how  fell,  how  butcherly! 

**  This  mortal  quarrel  daily  doth  beget !  "  "  M.  Mason. 


10  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose, 
And  bears  down  all  before  him. 

Bard.  Noble  earl, 

I  bring  you  certain  news  from  Shrewsbury. 

North.  Good,  an  heaven  will ! 

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, 
So  fought,  so  follow'd,  and  so  fairly  won, 
Came  not,  till  now,  to  dignify  the  times, 
Since  Caesar's  fortunes ! 

North.  How  is  this  deriv'd  ? 

Saw  you  the  field  ?  came  you  from  Shrewsbury  ? 

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. 

Bard.  My  lord,  I  over-rode  him  on  the  way  ; 
And  he  is  furnish'd  with  no  certainties, 
More  than  he  haply  may  retail  from  me. 

Enter  Tracers. 

North.  Now,  Travers,  what  good  tidings  come 

with  you  ? 
Tra.    My  lord,   sir  John  Umfrevile  turn'd  me 
back 
With  joyful  tidings  ;  and,  being  better  hors'd, 
Out-rode  me.     After  him,  came  spurring  hard, 


sc.i.  KING  HENRY  IV.-  11 

A  gentleman  almost  forspent  with  speed9, 
That  stopp'd  by  me  to  breathe  his  bloodied  horse : 
He  ask'd  the  way  to  Chester;  and  of  him 
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 1 
Against  the  panting  sides  of  his  poor  jade 2 
Up  to  the  rowel-head 3 ;  and,  starting  so, 
He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way 4, 
Staying  no  longer  question. 

9  — forspent  with  speed,]  To  forspend  is  to  waste,  to  ex- 
haust.    So,  in  Sir  A.  Gorges'  translation  of  Lucan,  b.  vii. : 

" crabbed  sires  forspent  with  age."     Steevens. 

1  —armed  heels — ]  Thus  the  quarto  1600.  The  folio, 
1623,  reads — "able  heels  ;  "  the  modern  editors,  without  autho- 
rity— "  agile  heels."     Steevens. 

2  —  poor  jade  — ]  Poor  jade  is  used,  not  in  contempt,  but  in 
compassion.    Poor  jade  means  the  horse  tvearied  with  his  journey. 

Jade,  however,  seems  anciently  to  have  signified  what  we  now 
call  a  hackney  ;  a  beast  employed  in  drudgery,  opposed  to  a  horse 
kept  for  show,  or  to  be  rid  by  its  master.  So,  in  a  comedy  called 
A  Knack  to  know  a  Knave,  1594< : 

"  Besides,  I'll  give  you  the  keeping  of  a  dozen  jades, 
"  And  now  and  then  meat  for  you  and  your  horse." 
This  is  said  by  a  farmer  to  ^.courtier.     Steevens. 

Shakspeare,  however,  (as  Mr.  Steevens  has  observed,)  cer- 
tainly does  not  use  the  word  as  a  term  of  contempt ;  for  King 
Richard  the  Second  gives  this  appellation  to  his  favourite  horse 
Roan  Barbary,  on  which  Henry  the  Fourth  rode  at  his  corona- 
tion : 

"  That  jade  hath  eat  bread  from  my  royal  hand." 

Malone. 

3  —  rowel-head  ;]  I  think  that  I  have  observed  in  old  prints 
the  rowel  of  those  times  to  have  been  only  a  single  spike. 

Johnson. 
Dr.  Johnson  had  either  forgotten  the  precise  meaning  of  the 
word  rowel,  or  has  made  choice  of  inaccurate  language  in  apply- 
ing it  to  the  single  spiked  spur,  which  he  had  seen  in  old  prints. 
The  former  signifies  the  moveable  spiked  wheel  at  the  end  of  a 
spur,  such  as  was  actually  used  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 
and  long  before  the  other  was  laid  aside.  Shakspeare  certainly 
meant  the  spur  of  his  own  time.     Douce. 


12  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

North.  Ha! Again. 

Said  he,  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold  ? 
Of  Hotspur,  coldspur 5  ?  that  rebellion 
Had  met  ill  luck  ! 

Bard.  My  lord,  I'll  tell  you  what 

If  my  young  lord  your  son  have  not  the  day, 
Upon  mine  honour,  for  a  silken  point 6 
111  give  my  barony :  never  talk  of  it. 

North.  Why  should  that  gentleman,  that  rode 
by  Travers, 
Give  then  such  instances  of  loss  ? 

Bard.  Who,  he  ? 

He  was  some  hilding  fellow 7,  that  had  stol'n 
The  horse  he  rode  on ;  and,  upon  my  life, 
Spoke  at  a  venture.     Look,  here  comes  more  news. 


<  He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way,]  So,  in  the  book 
of  Job,  chap,  xxxix  :  "  He  sivalloxveth  the  ground  in  fierceness 
and  rage." 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  Ben  Jonson's  Sejanus  : 
"  But  with  that  speed  and  heat  of  appetite, 
"  With  which  they  greedily  devour  the  way 
"  To  some  great  sports."     Steevens. 
So  Ariel,   to  describe  his  alacrity  in  obeying  Prospero's  com- 
mands : 

"  I  drink  the  air  before  me."     M.  Mason. 
So,  in  one  of  the  Roman  poets  (I  forget  which) : 

cursu  consumere  campum.     Blackstone. 

The  line  quoted  by  Sir  William  Blackstone  is  in  Nemesian  : 

■  latumquejfyg-a  consumere  campum.     Malone. 

*  Of  Hotspur,  coldspur?]  Hotspur  seems  to  have  been  a 
very  common  term  for  a  man  of  vehemence  and  precipitation. 
Stanyhurst,  who  translated  four  books  of  Virgil,  in  1584,  renders 
the  following  line  : 

Nee  victoris  heri  tetigit  captiva  cubile. 
"  To  couch  not  mounting  of  mayster  vanquisher  hoatspur." 

Steevens. 
6  —  silken  point — ]     A  point  is  a  string  tagged,  or  lace. 

Johnson. 
1  —  some  hilding  fellow,]     For  hilderling,\.  e.  base,  dege- 
nerate.    Pope. 

Hilderling,  Degener  ;  vox  adhuc  agro  Devon,  iamiliaris.  Spel- 
man.     Reed. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  13 

Enter  Morton. 

North.  Yea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title  - 
leaf8, 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragick  volume : 
So  looks  the  strond,  whereon*  the  imperious  flood 

Hath  left  a  witness'd  usurpation 9. 

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, 
So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  woe-begone  \ 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 

*  Folio,  when. 

8  —  like  to  a  title-leaf,]  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  observe,  that, 
in  the  time  of  our  poet,  the  title-page  to  an  elegy,  as  well  as  every 
intermediate  leaf,  was  totally  black.  I  have  several  in  my  posses- 
sion, written  by  Chapman,  the  translator  of  Homer,  and  orna- 
mented in  this  manner.     Steevens. 

9  —  a  witness'd  usurpation.]    i.  e.  an  attestation  of  its  ravage. 

Steevens. 
i  —  so  woe-begone,]  This  word  was  common  enough  amongst 
the  old   Scottish  and  English  poets,  as  G.  Douglas,  Chaucer, 
Lord  Buckhurst,  Fairfax  ;  and  signifies,^/-  gone  in  woe. 

Warburton. 
So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy  : 

"  Awake,  revenge,  or  we  are  tvo-begone  !  " 
Again,  in  Arden  of  Feversham,  1592  : 

"  So  woe-begone,  so  inly  charg'd  with  woe." 
Again,  in  A  Looking  Glass  for  London  and  England,  1598  : 

"  Fair  Alvida,  look  not  so  woe-begone. " 
Dr.  Bentley  is  said  to  have  thought  this  passage  corrupt,  and 
therefore  (with  a  greater  degree  of  gravity  than  my  readers  will 
probably  express)  proposed  the  following  emendation  : 
'*  So  dead,  so  dull  in  look,  Ucalegon, 
"  Drew  Priam's  curtain,"  &c. 
The  name  of  Ucalegon  is  found  in  the  third  book  of  the  Iliad, 
and  the  second  of  the  iEneid.     Steevens. 

7 


14  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

And   would   have   told   him,    half   his    Troy   was 

burn'd : 
But  Priam  found  the  fire,  ere  he  his  tongue, 
And  I  my  Percy's  death  ;  ere  thou  report'st  it. 
This  thou  would'st  say, — Your  son  did  thus,  and 

thus: 
Your  brother,  thus ;  so  fought  the  noble  Douglas ; 
Stopping  my  greedy  ear  with  their  bold  deeds : 
But  in  the  end,  to  stop  mine  ear  indeed, 
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  thy  earl,  his  divination  lies ; 
And  I  will  take  it  as  a  sweet  disgrace, 
And  make  thee  rich  for  doing  me  such  wrong. 

Mor.  You  are  too  great  to  be  by  me  gainsaid  : 
Your  spirit 2  is  too  true,  your  fears  too  certain. 

North.  Yet,  for    all  this,  say  not  that  Percy's 
dead 3. 

2  Your  spirit  — ]  The  impression  upon  your  mind,  by  which 
you  conceive  the  death  of  your  son.     Johnson. 

3  Yet,  for  all  this,  say  not,  &c]  The  contradiction,  in  the 
first  part  of  this  speech,  might  be  imputed  to  the  distraction  of 
Northumberland's  mind  ;  but  the  calmness  of  the  reflection,  con- 
tained in  the  last  lines,  seems  not  much  to  countenance  such  a 
supposition.  I  will  venture  to  distribute  this  passage  in  a  manner 
which  will,  I  hope,  seem  more  commodious ;  but  do  not  wish  the 
reader  to  forget,  that  the  most  commodious  is  not  always  the  true 
reading : 

"  Bard.  Yet,  for  all  this,  say  not  that  Percy's  dead. 

"  North.  I  see  a  strange  confession  in  thine  eye, 
"  Thou  shak'st  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  ; 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  15 

I  see  a  strange  confession  in  thine  eye : 

Thou  shak'st  thy  head  ;  and  hold'st  it  fear,  or  sin  *, 

To  speak  a  truth.     If  he  be  slain,  say  so 5 : 

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. 

Yet  the  first  bringer  of  unwelcome  news 

Hath  but  a  losing  office ;  and  his  tongue 

Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 

Remember'd  knolling  *  a  departing  friend  6. 

*  Quartos,  tolling. 

'\And  he  doth  sin,  that  doth  belie  the  dead  ; 
"  Not  he,  which  says  the  dead  is  not  alive. 

"  Mor.  Yet  the  first  bringer  of  unwelcome  news 
"  Hath  but  a  losing  office ;  and  his  tongue 
"  Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 
"  Remember'd  knolling  a  departing  friend." 
Here  is  a  natural  interposition  of  Bardolph  at  the  beginning, 
who  is  not  pleased  to  hear  his  news  confuted,  and  a  proper  pre- 
paration of  Morton  for  the  tale  which  he  is  unwilling  to  tell. 

Johnson. 
*  — hold'st  it  fear,  or  sin,]   Fear,  for  danger.     Warburton. 

5  —  If  he  be  slain,  say  so  :]  The  words  say  so  are  in  the  first 
folio,  but  not  in  the  quarto :  they  are  necessaiy  to  the  verse,  but 
the  sense  proceeds  as  well  without  them.     Johnson. 

6  Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 

Remember'd  knolling  a  departing  friend.]     So,  in  our  au- 
thor's 71st  Sonnet : 

"■ you  shall  hear  the  surly  sullen  bell 

"  Give  warning  to  the  world  that  /  amjled.''' 
This  significant  epithet  has  been  adopted  by  Milton  : 
**  I  hear  the  far-off  curfew  sound, 
"  Over  some  wide  water  d  shore 
"  Swinging  slow  with  sullen  roar." 
Departing,  I  believe,  is  here  used  for  departed.     Malone. 
I  cannot  concur  in  this  supposition.     The  bell,  anciently,  was 
rung  before  expiration,  and  thence  was  called   the  passing  bell, 
i.  e.  the  bell  that  solicited  prayers  for  the  soul  passing  into  another 
world.     Steevens. 

1  am  inclined  to  think  that  this  bell  might  have  been  originally 
used  to  drive  away  demons  who  were  watching  to  take  possession 
of  the  soul  of  the  deceased.  In  the  cuts  to  some  of  the  old  ser- 
vice books  which  contain  the  Vigiliae  mortuorum,  several  devils 
are  waiting  for  this  purpose  in  the  chamber  of  a  dying  man,  to 
whom  the  priest  is  administering  extreme  unction.     Douce. 


16  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

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  heaven  I  had  not  seen : 
But  these  mine  eyes  saw  him  in  bloody  state, 
Rend'ring  faint  quittance 7,  wearied  and  outbreath'd, 
To  Harry   Monmouth ;    whose    swift  wrath    beat 

down 
The  never-daunted  Percy  to  the  earth, 
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 8,  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 ; 
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  Worcester 
Too  soon  ta'en  prisoner :  and  that  furious  Scot, 
The  bloody  Douglas,  whose  well-labouring  sword 
Had  three  times  slain  the  appearance  of  the  king, 
'Gan  vail  his  stomach  9,  and  did  grace  the  shame 

7  — faint  auiTTANCE,]  Quittance  is  return.  By  "  faint  quit- 
tance "  is  meant  a  *  faint  return  of  blows.'  So,  in  King 
Henry  V.  : 

"  We  shall  forget  the  office  of  our  hand, 

"  Sooner  than  quittance  of  desert  and  merit."    Steevens. 

8  For  from  his  metal  was  his  party  steel'd  ; 

Which  once  in  him  abated,]  Abated  is  not  here  put  for  the 
general  idea  of  diminished,  nor  for  the  notion  of  blunted,  as  applied 
to  a  single  edge.  Abated  means  reduced  to  a  lower  temper,  or,  as 
the  workmen  call  it,  let  down.     Johnson. 

9  'Gan  vail  his  stomach,]  Began  to  fall  his  courage,  to  let  his 
spirits  sink  under  his  fortune.     Johnson. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  17 

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  Lancaster, 
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  l, 
Being  sick,  have  in  some  measure  made  me  well : 
And  as  the  wretch,  whose  fever-weaken'd  joints, 
Like  strengthless  hinges,  buckle 2  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  enrag'd  with  grief, 
Are  thrice  themselves 3 :  hence  therefore,  thou  nice4 
crutch ; 

From  avaller,  Fr.  to  cast  down,  or  to  let  fall  down.     Malone. 
This  phrase  has  already  appeared  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew, 
vol.  v.  p.  521  : 

"  Then  vail  your  stomachs,  for  it  is  no  boot ; 

"  And  place  your  hands  below  your  husbands'  foot." 

Reed. 
Thus,  to  vail  the  bonnet  is  to  pull  it  off".     So,  in  The  Pinner  of 
Wakefield,  1599 : 

"  And  make  the  king  vail  bonnet  to  us  both." 
To  vail  a  staff,  is  to  let  it  fall  in  token  of  respect.     Thus,  in  the 
same  play  : 

"  And  for  the  ancient  custom  of  vail-staff, 
"  Keep  it  still ;  claim  thou  privilege  from  me  : 
' *  If  any  ask  a  reason,  why  ?  or  how  ? 
"  Say,  English  Edward  vail'd  his  staff  to  you." 
See  vol.  ix.  p.  178,  n.  4.     Steevens. 

1  Having  been  well,  that  would  have  made  me  sick,]    i.  e.  that 
would,  had  I  been  well,  have  made  me  sick.     Malone. 

2  —  buckle  — ]     Bend ;  yield  to  pressure.     Johnson. 

3  ■  even  so  my  limbs, 

Weaken'd  with  grief,  being  now  enrag'd  with  grief, 
Are  thrice  themselves :]     As  Northumberland  is  here  com- 
paring himself  to  a  person,  who,  though  his  joints  are  weakened 
by  a  bodily  disorder,  derives  strength  from  the  distemper  of  the 
VOL.  XVII.  C 


18  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

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. 
Now  bind  my  brows  with  iron ;  And  approach 
The  ragged'st  hour 5  that  time  and  spite  dare  bring, 

mind,  I  formerly  proposed  to  read — "  Weakened   with   age"  or 
"  Weakened  with  pain." 

When  a  word  is  repeated,  without  propriety,  in  the  same  or  two 
succeeding  lines,  there  is  great  reason  to  suspect  some  corruption. 
Thus,  in  this  scene,  in  the  first  folio,  we  have  "  able  heels,"  in- 
stead of  "armed  heels,"  in  consequence  of  the  word  able  having 
occurred  in  the  preceding  line.  So,  in  Hamlet :  "  Thy  news  shall 
be  the  news,"  &c.  instead  of  "Thy  news  shall  be  the  fruit." 
Again,  in  Macbeth,  instead  of  "Whom  we,  to  gain  our  place,"  &.c. 
we  find — 

"  Whom  we,  to  gain  our  peace,  have  sent  to  peace." 

In  this  conjecture  I  had  once  some  confidence  ;  but  it  is  much 
diminished  by  the  subsequent  note,  and  by  my  having  lately  ob- 
served that  Shakspeare  elsewhere  uses  grief  for  bodily  pain.  Fal- 
staff,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  vol.  xvi.  p.  387,  speaks  of  "  the 
grief  of  a  wound."  Grief,  in  the  latter  part  of  this  line,  is  used  in 
its  present  sense,  for  sorrow  ;  in  the  former  part,  for  bodily  pain. 

Malone. 

Grief,  in  ancient  language,  signifies  bodily  pain,  as  well  as  sor- 
row. So,  in  A  Treatise  of  Sundrie  Diseases,  &c.  by  T.  T.  1.591  : 
"  —  he  being  at  that  time  griped  sore,  and  having  grief  in  his 
lower  bellie."  Dolor  ventris  is,  by  our  old  writers,  frequently 
translated  "  grief  of  the  guts."     I  perceive  no  need  of  alteration. 

Steevens. 

*  —nice — ]     i.  e.  trifling.     So,  in  Julius  Caesar: 

" it  is  not  meet 

"  That  every  nice  offence  should  bear  his  comments." 

Steevens. 

5  The  ragged'st  hour  — ]  Mr.  Theobald  and  the  subsequent 
editors  read — The  rugged'st.  But  change  is  unnecessary,  the  ex- 
pression in  the  text  being  used  more  than  once  by  our  author.  In 
As  You  Like  It,  Amiens  says,  his  voice  is  ragged;  and  rag  is  em- 
ployed as  a  term  of  reproach  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
and  in  Timon  of  Athens.  See  also  the  Epistle  prefixed  to  Spen- 
ser's Shepherd's  Calender,  1.579:  "  — as  thinking  them  fittest  for 
the  rustical  rudeness  of  shepheards,  either  for  that  their  rough 
sound  would  make  his  rimes  more  ragged,  and  rustical,"  &c. 
The  modern  jeditors  of  Spenser  might  here  substitute  the  word 
rugged  with  just  as  much  propriety  as  it  has  been  substituted  in 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  19 

To  frown  upon  the  enrag'd  Northumberland ! 
Let  heaven  kiss  earth !  Now  let  not  nature's  hand 
Keep  the  wild  flood  confin'd  !  let  order  die  ! 
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 6 ! 

Tra.  This  strained  passion 7  doth  you  wrong,  my 
lord. 

Bard.  Sweet  earl,  divorce  not  wisdom  from  your 
honour. 

the  present  passage,  or  in  that  in  As  You  Like  It :  "  My  voice  is 
rugged."     See  vol.  vi.  p.  396,  n.  7. 
Again,  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece : 

"  Thy  secret  pleasure  turns  to  open  shame, — 

W  Thy  smoothing  titles  to  a  ragged  name." 
Again,  in  our  poet's  eighth  Sonnet: 

**  Then  let  not  Winter's  ragged  hand  deface 

"  In  thee  thy  summer." 
Again,  in  the  play  before  us  : 

"  A  ragged  and  fore-stall'd  remission."     Malone. 

6  And  darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  dead  !]  The  conclusion 
of  this  noble  speech  is  extremely  striking.  There  is  no  need  to 
suppose  it  exactly  philosophical ;  darkness,  in  poetry,  may  be  ab- 
sence of  eyes,  as  well  as  privation  of  light.  Yet  we  may  remark, 
that  by  an  ancient  opinion  it  has  been  held,  that  if  the  human  race, 
for  whom  the  world  was  made,  were  extirpated,  the  whole  system 
of  sublunary  nature  would  cease.     Johnson. 

A  passage  resembling  this  speech,  but  feeble  in  comparison,  is 
found  in  The  Double  Marriage  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 

" That  we  might  fall, 

"  And  in  our  ruins  swallow  up  this  kingdom, 

**  Nay  the  whole  world,  and  make  a  second  chaos." 

BOSWELL. 

7  This  strained  passion  — ]  This  line,  in  the  quarto,  where 
alone  it  is  found,  is  given  to  Umfrevile,  who,  as  Mr.  Steevens  has 
observed,  is  spoken  of  in  this  very  scene  as  absent.  It  was  on  this 
ground  probably  rejected  by  the  player-editors.  It  is  now,  on  the 
suggestion  of  Mr.  Steevens,  attributed  (o  Travers,  who  is  present, 
and  yet  (as  that  gentleman  has  remarked)  "  is  made  to  say  nothing 
on  this  interesting  occasion."     Malone. 

c  2 


20  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

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 8,  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 9  your  son  might  drop  : 
You  knew,  he  walk'd  o'er  perils,  on  an  edge, 
More  likely  to  fall  in,  than  to  get  o'er 1 : 
You  were  advis'd,  his  flesh  was  capable 2 

8  You  cast  the  event  of  war,  &c]  The  fourteen  lines,  from 
hence  to  Bardolph's  next  speech,  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  first 
editions,  till  that  in  the  folio  of  1623.  A  very  great  number  of 
other  lines  in  this  play  were  inserted  after  the  first  edition  in  like 
manner,  but  of  such  spirit  and  mastery  generally,  that  the  inser- 
tions are  plainly  by  Shakspeare  himself.     Pope. 

To  this  note  I  have  nothing  to  add,  but  that  the  editor  speaks 
of  more  editions  than  I  believe  him  to  have  seen,  there  having 
been  but  one  edition  yet  discovered  by  me  that  precedes  the  first 
folio.     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  perhaps  not  altogether  correct.  See  the  Pre- 
liminary Remarks.     Boswell. 

9  —  in  the  dole  of  blows  — ]  The  dole  of  blows  is  the  distri- 
bution of  blows.  Dole  originally  signified  the  portion  of  alms 
(consisting  either  of  meat  or  money)  that  was  given  away  at  the 
door  of  a  nobleman.     Steevens. 

See  vol.  xvi.  p.  248,  n.  1.     Malone. 

1  You  knew,  he  walk'd  o'er  perils,  on  an  edge, 

More  likely  to  fall  in,  than  to  get  o'er  :]  So,  in  King  Henry  IV. 
Part  I.  : 

"  As  full  of  peril  and  adventurous  spirit, 
"  As  to  o'erwalk  a  current  roaring  loud, 
"  On  the  unsteadfast  footing  of  a  spear."     Malone. 

2  You  were  advis'd,  his  flesh  was  capable  — ]  i.  e.  you  knew. 
So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  : 

"  How  shall  I  doat  on  her  with  more  advice — ." 
i.  e.  on  further  knowledge.     Malone. 

Thus  also,  Thomas  Twyne,  the  continuator  of  Phaer's  transla- 
tion of  Virgil,  1584,  for  kaud  inscius,  has  advis'd  : 

"  He  spake  :  and  straight  the  sword  advisde  into  his  throat 
receives."     Steevens. 
It  is  still  used  in  mercantile  correspondence.    Talbot. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  21 

Of  wounds  and  scars ;  and  that  his  forward  spirit 
Would  lift  him  where  most  trade  of  danger  rang'd ; 
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  enterprize  brought  forth, 
More  than  that  being  which  was  like  to  be  ? 

Bard.  We  all,  that  are  engaged  to  this  loss 3, 
Knew  that  we  ventur'd  on  such  dangerous  seas, 
That,  if  we  wrought  out  life,  'twas  ten  to  one : 
And  yet  we  ventur'd,  for  the  gain  propos'd 
Chok'd  the  respect  of  likely  peril  fear'd  ; 
And,  since  we  are  o'erset,  venture  again. 
Come,  we  will  all  put  forth;  body,  and  goods. 

Mor.  'Tis  more  than  time:  And,  my  most  noble 
lord, 

I  hear  for  certain,  and  do  *  speak  the  truth, 

The  gentle  archbishop  of  York  is  up  4, 
With  well-appointed  powers  ;  he  is  a  man, 
Who  with  a  double  surety  binds  his  followers. 
My  lord  your  son  had  only  but  the  corps, 
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 

*  Quartos,  dare. 

3  We  all,  that  are  engaged  to  this  loss,]  We  have  a  similar 
phraseology  in  the  preceding  play  : 

"  Hath  a  more  worthy  interest  to  the  state, 

"  Than  thou  the  shadow  of  succession."     Malone. 

4  The  gentle,  &c]  These  one-and-twenty  lines  were  added 
since  the  first  edition.     Johnson. 

This  and  the  following  twenty  lines  are  not  found  in  the  quarto, 
1600,  either  from  some  inadvertence  of  the  transcriber  or  compo- 
sitor, or  from  the  printer  not  having  been  able  to  procure  a  per- 
fect copy.  They  first  appeared  in  the  folio,  1623  ;  but  it  is  mani- 
fest that  they  were  written  at  the  same  time  with  the  rest  of  the 
play,  Northumberland's  answer  referring  to  them.     Malone. 


22  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

Seem'd  on  our  side,  but,  for  their  spirits  and  souls, 

This  word,  rebellion,  it  had  froze  them  up, 

As  fish  are  in  a  pond:  But  now  the  bishop 

Turns  insurrection  to  religion : 

Suppos'd  sincere  and  holy  in  his  thoughts, 

He's  follow'd  both  with  body  and  with  mind ; 

And  doth  enlarge  his  rising  with  the  blood 

Of  fair  king  Richard,  scrap'd  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  less6,  do  flock  to  follow  him. 

North.  I  knew    of  this  before;    but  to  speak 
truth, 
This  present  grief  had  wip'd  it  from  my  mind. 
Go  in  with  me ;  and  counsel  every  man 
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  Sir  John  Falstaff,  with  his  Page  bearing 
his  Sword  and  Buckler. 

Fal.  Sirrah,  you  giant,  what  says  the  doctor  to 
my  water 7  ? 

3  Tells  them,  he  doth  bestride  a  bleeding  land,]  That  isy 
stands  over  his  country  to  defend  her  as  she  lies  bleeding  on  the 
ground.  So  Falstaff  before  says  to  the  Prince,  "  Hal,  if  thou 
see  me  down  in  the  battle,  and  bestride  me,  so  ;  it  is  an  office  of 
friendship."     Johnson. 

6  And  more,  and  less,]  More  and  less  mean  greater  and 
less.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Both  more  and  less  have  given  him  the  revolt." 

Steevens. 

7  —what  says  the  doctor  to  my  water?]     The  method  of 


56.  it.  KING  HENRY  IV.  23 

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 8 :  The  brain  of  this  foolish-compounded  clay, 
man,  is  not  able  to  vent  any  thing  that  tends  to 
laughter,  more  than  I  invent,  or  is  invented  on  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 

investigating  diseases  by  the  inspection  of  urine  only,  was  once 
so  much  the  fashion,  that  Linacre,  the  founder  of  the  College  of 
Physicians,  formed  a  statute  to  restrain  apothecaries  from  carrying 
the  water  of  their  patients  to  a  doctor,  and  afterwards  giving  me- 
dicines, in  consequence  of  the  opinions  they  received  concerning 
it.  This  statute  was,  soon  after,  followed  by  another,  which 
forbade  the  doctors  themselves  to  pronounce  on  any  disorder  from 
such  an  uncertain  diagnostic. 

John  Day,  the  author  of  a  comedy  called  Law  Tricks,  or  Who 
would  have  thought  it?  160S,  describes  an  apothecary  thus: 
'•'  — his  house  is  set  round  with  patients  twice  or  thrice  a  day, 
and  because  they'll  be  sure  not  to  want  drink,  every  one  brings 
his  own  water  in  an  urinal  with  him." 

Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady  : 
"  I'll  make  her  cry  so  much,  that  the  physician, 
"  If  she  fall  sick  upon  it,  shall  want  urine 
"  To  find  the  cause  by." 

It  will  scarcely  be  believed  hereafter,  that  in  the  years  J  775 
and  1776,  a  German,  who  had  been  a  servant  in  a  public  riding- 
school,  (from  which  he  was  discharged  for  insufficiency,)  revived 
this  exploded  practice  of  water-casting.  After  he  had  amply  in- 
creased the  bills  of  mortality,  and  been  publicly  hung  up  to  the 
ridicule  of  those  who  had  too  much  sense  to  consult  him,  as  a 
monument  of  the  folly  of  his  patients,  he  retired  with  a  princely 
fortune,  and  perhaps  is  now  indulging  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  ex- 
pence  of  English  credulity.     Steevens. 

The  time  is  not  yet  come,  when  this  is  to  be  thought  incre- 
dible.    The  same  impudent  quackery  is  carried  on  at  this  day. 

Boswell. 

8  — to  gird  at  me:]  i.  e.  to  gibe.  So,  in  Lyly's  Mother 
Bombie,  1594:  "  We  maids  are  mad  wenches;  we  gird  them, 
and  flout  them,"  &c.     Steevens. 


24  SECOND  PART  OF  act  1. 

any  other  reason  than  to  set  me  off,  why  then  I 
have  no  judgment.  Thou  whoreson  mandrake9, 
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  set  *  you  neither  in  gold  nor  sil- 
ver, but  in  vile  apparel,  and  send  you  back  again  to 
your  master,  for  a  jewel;  the  juvenal2,  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  not  stick  to  say,  his  face  is  a  face-royal :  God 
*  Quartos,  in-set. 

9  — mandrake,]  Mandrake  is  a  root  supposed  to  have  the  shape 
of  a  man  ;  it  is  now  counterfeited  with  the  root  of  briony. 

Johnson. 

1  I  was  never  manned  with  an  agate  till  now :]  That  is,  I 
never  before  had  an  agate  for  my  man.     Johnson. 

Alluding  to  the  little  figures  cut  in  agates,  and  other  hard 
stones,  for  seals;  and  therefore  he  says,  "  I  will  set  you  neither  in 
gold  nor  silver."  The  Oxford  editor  alters  it  to  aglet,  a  tag  to 
the  points  then  in  use  (a  word,  indeed,  which  our  author  uses 
to  express  the  same  thought) :  but  aglets,  though  they  were 
sometimes  of  gold  or  silver,  were  never  set  in  those  metals. 

War  burton. 

It  appears  from  a  passage  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Coxcomb, 
that  it  was  usual  for  justices  of  peace  either  to  wear  an  agate  in  a 
ring,  or  as  an  appendage  to  their  gold  chain:  " — Thou  wilt 
spit  as  formally,  and  show  thy  agate  and  hatched  chain,  as  well 
as  the  best  of  them." 

The  same  allusion  is  employed  on  the  same  occasion  in  The 
Isle  of  Gulls,  1606  : 

"  Grace,  you  Agate!  hast  not  forgot  that  yet?" 

The  virtues  of  the  agate  were  anciently  supposed  to  protect  the 
wearer  from  any  misfortune.  So,  in  Greene's  Mamillia,  1593: 
"  —  the  man  that  hath  the  stone  agathes  about  him,  is  surely 
defenced  against  adversity."     Steevens. 

I  believe  an  agate  is  used  merely  to  express  any  thing  remark- 
ably little,  without  any  allusion  to  the  figure  cut  upon  it.  So, 
in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  vol.  vii.  p.  74,  n.  8  : 

'*■  If  low,  an  agate  very  vilely  cut."     Malone. 

1  — the  juvenal,]  This  term,  which  has  already  occurred 
in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  and  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  is 
used  in  many  places  by  Chaucer,  and  always  signifies  a  young 
man.     Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  25 

may  finish  it  when  he  will,  it  is  not  a  hair  amiss 
yet :  he  may  keep  it  still  as  a  face-royal 3,  for  a  bar- 
ber shall  never  earn  sixpence  out  of  it;  and  yet  he 
will  be  crowing,  as  if  he  had  writ  man  ever  since  his 
father  was  a  batchelor.  He  may  keep  his  own 
grace,  but  he  is  almost  out  of  mine,  I  can  assure 

him. What  said  master  Dumbleton4  about  the 

satin  for  my  short  cloak,  and  slops  ? 

Page.  He  said,  sir,  you  should  procure  him  bet- 
ter assurance  than  Bardolph :  he  would  not  take 
his  bond  and  yours  ;  he  liked  not  the  security. 

Fal.  Let  him  be  damned  like  the  glutton  !  may 
his  tongue  be  hotter 5 ! — A  whoreson  Achitophel ! 

3  —  he  may  keep  it  still  as  a  face-royal,]  That  is,  a  face 
exempt  from  the  touch  of  vulgar  hands.  So,  a.  stag-royal  is  not 
to  be  hunted,  a  mine-royal  is  not  to  be  dug.     Johnson. 

Old  copies — at  a  face  royal.  Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the 
second  folio.     Malone. 

Perhaps  this  quibbling  allusion  is  to  the  English  real,  rial,  or 
royal.  The  poet  seems  to  mean  that  a  barber  can  no  more  earn 
sixpence  by  hisjace-royal,  than  by  the  face  stamped  on  the  coin 
called  a  royal  ;  the  one  requiring  as  little  shaving  as  the  other. 

Steevens. 

If  nothing  be  taken  out  of  a  royal,  it  will  remain  a  royal  as  it 
was.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  FalstafFs  conceit.  A  royal  was  a 
piece  of  coin  of  the  value  of  tenTsnillings.  I  cannot  approve 
either  of  Johnson's  explanation,  or  of  that  of  Steevens. 

M.  Mason. 

4  — Dumbleton  — ]  The  folio  has — Dombledon ;  the  quarto — 
Dommelton.  This  name  seems  to  have  been  a  made  one,  and 
designed  to  afford  some  apparent  meaning.  The  author  might 
have  written — Double-done,  (or,  as  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes, 
Double-down,)  from  his  making  the  same  charge  twice  in  his 
books,  or  charging  twice  as  much  for  a  commodity  as  it  is  worth. 

I  have  lately,  however,  observed  that  Dumbleton  is  the  name 
of  a  town  in  Glocestershire.  The  reading  of  the  folio  may  there- 
fore be  the  true  one.     Steevens. 

The  reading  of  the  quarto  (the  original  copy)  appears  to  be 
only  a  mis-spelling  of  Dumbleton.     Malone. 

^  Let  him  be  damned  like  the  glutton  !  may  his  tongue  be 
hotter !]  An  allusion  to  the  fate  of  the  rich  man,  who  had  fared 
sumptuously  every  day,  when  he  requested  a  drop  of  water  to 
cool  his  tongue,  being  tormented  with  the  flames.     Henley. 

6 


26  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

a  rascally  *  yea-forsooth  knave  !  to  bear  a  gentleman 
in  hand6,  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  thorough  with  them  in  honest 
taking  up  7,  then  must  they  stand  upon — security. 
I  had  as  lief  they  would  put  ratsbane  in  my  mouth, 
as  offer  to  stop  it  with  security.  I  looked  he  should 
have  sent  me  two  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 8,  and  the  lightness  of  his  wife  shines 
through  it :  and  yet  cannot  he  see,  though  he  have 

his  own  lantern  to  light  him9. Where's  Bar- 

dolph  ? 

*   Quartos,  a  rascall, 

6  —  to  bear — in  hand,]     Is,  to  keep  in  expectation. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  Macbeth : 

" How  you  were  borne  in  hand,  how  cross'd." 

Steevens. 

7  —  if  a  man  is  thorough  with  them  in  honest  taking  up,] 
That  is,  if  a  man  by  taking  up  goods  is  in  their  debt.  To  be 
thorough  seems  to  be  the  same  with  the  present  phrase, — to  be 
in  with  a  tradesman.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour  : 
**  I  will  take  up,  and  bring  myself  into  credit." 

So  again,  in  Northward  Hoe,  by  Decker  and  Webster,  1607: 
"  They  will  take  tip,  I  warrant  you,  where  they  may  be  trusted." 
Again  in  the  same  piece :  "  Sattin  gowns  must  be  taken  up." 
Again,  in  Love  Restored,  one  of  Ben  Jonson's  masques  : — u  A 
pretty  fine  speech  was  taken  up  o'  the  poet  too,  which  if  he  never 
be  paid  for  now,  'tis  no  matter."     Steevens. 

8  —  the  horn  of  abundance,]  So,  in  Pasquil's  Night-Cap, 
1612,  p.  43  : 

"  But  chiefly  citizens,  upon  whose  crowne 
"■  Fortune  her  blessings  most  did  tumble  downe  ; 
"  And  in  whose  eares  (as  all  the  world  doth  know) 
"  The  home  of  great  aboundance  still  doth  blow." 

Steevens. 

9  —  the  lightness  of  his  wife  shines  through  it :  and  yet  cannot 
he  see,  though  he  have  his  own  lantern  to  light  him.]  This 
joke  seems  evidently  to  have  been  taken  from  that  of  Plautus  : 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  IV.  27 

Page.  He's  gone  into  Smithfield,  to  buy  your 
worship  a  horse. 

Fal.  I  bought  him  in  Paul's1,  and  he'll  buy  me 

"  Quo  arabulas  tu,  qui  Vulcanum  in  cornu  conclusum  geris  ?  " 
Amph.  Act  I.  Sc.  I.  and  much  improved.  We  need  not  doubt 
that  a  joke  was  here  intended  by  Plautus  ;  for  the  proverbial  term 
of  horns,  for  cuckoldom,  is  very  ancient,  as  appears  by  Artemi- 
dorus,  who  says  :  HpOEnreiv  dura  on  r\  yi/wi  <rou  nopvEiicret,  xai 
to  XeyofLSvov,  xegara  dura  -nowo-ei,  xou  outu$  owre&j.  "Qveipoi. 
lib.  ii.  cap.  12.     And  he  copied  from  those  before  him. 

Warburton. 
The  same  thought  occurs  in  The  Two  Maids  of  Moreclacke, 
1609: 


m your  wrongs 

"  Shine  through  the  horn,  as  candles  in  the  eve, 
"  To  light  out  others."     Steevens. 

1  I  bought  him  in  Paul's,]  At  that  time  the  resort  of  idle 
people,  cheats,  and  knights  of  the  post.     Warburton. 

So,  in  Fearful  and  lamentable  Effects  of  Two  dangerous 
Comets,  &c.  no  date ;  by  Nashe,  in  ridicule  of  Gabriel  Harvey : 
"  Paule's  church  is  in  wonderfull  perill  thys  yeare  without  the 
help  of  our  conscionable  brethren,  for  that  day  it  hath  not  eyther 
broker,  maisterless  serving-man,  or  pennilesse  companion,  in  the 
middle  of  it,  the  usurers  of  London  have  sworne  to  bestow  a 
newe  steeple  upon  it." 

In  an  old  Collection  of  Proverbs,  I  find  the  following  : 

"  Who  goes  to  Westminster  for  a  wife,  to  St.  Paul's  for  a 
man,  and  to  Smithfield  for  a  horse,  may  meet  with  a  whore,  a 
knave,  and  a  jade." 

See  also  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  edit.  1632,  p.  631. 

In  a  pamphlet  by  Dr.  Lodge,  called  Wit's  Miserie,  and  the 
World's  Madnesse,  1596,  the  devil  is  described  thus  : 

"  In  Powls  hee  walketh  like  a  gallant  courtier,  where  if  he 
meet  some  rich  chuffes  worth  the  gulling,  at  every  word  he 
speaketh,  he  maketh  a  mouse  an  elephant,  and  telleth  them  of 
wonders,  done  in  Spaine  by  his  ancestors,"  &c.  &c. 

I  should  not  have  troubled  the  reader  with  this  quotation,  but 
that  it  in  some  measure  familiarizes  the  character  of  Pistol,  which 
(from  other  passages  in  the  same  pamphlet)  appears  to  have 
been  no  uncommon  one  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare.  Dr.  Lodge 
concludes  his  description  thus :  "  His  courage  is  boasting,  his 
learning  ignorance,  his  ability  weakness,  and  his  end  beggary." 

Again,  in  Ram-Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611 : 
"  ■         get  thee  a  gray  cloak  and  hat, 
"  And  walk  in  Paul's  among  thy  cashier'd  mates, 
"  As  melancholy  as  the  best." 


28  SECOND  PART  OF  act  j. 

a  horse  in  Smithfield :  an  I  could  get  me  but  a  wife 
in  the  stews,  I  were  manned,  horsed,  and  wived. 

Enter  the  Lord  Chief  Justice 2,  and  an  Attendant. 
Page.  Sir,  here  comes  the  nobleman  that  com- 
mitted the  prince  for  striking  him  about  Bardolph. 

I  learn  from  a  passage  in  Greene's  Disputation  between  a  He 
Coneycatcher  and  a  She  Coneycatcher,  1592,  that  St.  Paul's 
was  a  privileged  place,  so  that  no  debtor  could  be  arrested 
within  its  precincts.     Steevens. 

In  The  Choice  of  Change,  1598,  4to.  it  is  said,  "  a  man  must 
not  make  choyce  of  three  things  in  three  places.  Of  a  wife  in 
Westminster;  of  a  servant  in  Faille's;  of  a  horse  in  Smithfield  ; 
lest  he  chuse  a  queane,  a  knave,  or  a  jade."  See  also  Mory- 
son's  Itinerary,  Part  III.  p.  53,   1617.     Reed. 

"  It  was  the  fashion  of  those  times,"  [the  times  of  King 
James  I.]  says  Osborne,  in  his  Memoirs  of  that  monarch,  "  and 
did  so  continue  till  these,  [the  interregnum,]  for  the  principal 
gentry,  lords,  courtiers,  and  men  of  all  professions,  not  merely 
mechanicks,  to  meet  in  St.  Paul's  church  by  eleven,  and  walk 
in  the  middle  isle  till  twelve,  and  after  dinner  from  three  to  six  ; 
during  which  time  some  discoursed  of  business,  others  of  news. 
Now,  in  regard  of  the  universal  commerce  there  happened  little 
that  did  not  first  or  last  arrive  here."     Malone. 

Before  the  introduction  of  newspapers,  the  pillars  of  this  church 
seem  to  have  answered  the  same  purposes  as  the  columns  of 
those  daily  publications.  The  following  passage  is  from  a  volume 
of  Harleian  Manuscripts  filled  with  scraps  of  letters  and  other 
concerns  of  Mrs.  Jane  Shelley  (daughter  of  John  Lynge,  Esq. 
of  Sutton  in  Herefordshire),  who  died  in  1600.  The  writer,  who 
appears  to  have  been  one  of  her  servants,  addressing  his  sister, 
complains  of  the  strictness  of  his  lady,  and  determines  to  leave 
her  service:  "  It  may  be  you  will  say  I  wer  better  to  here  of  a  new 
before  I  loose  the  ould  servisse;  my  answer  is,  I  canot  loose  much  by 
the  bargain  ;  for  yf  I  take  but  the  basest  course,  and  sett  my  bill 
in  Paules,  in  one  or  two  dayes  I  cannot  want  a  servisse."  Harl. 
MSS.  2050.     Beakeway. 

2  —  Lord  Chief  Justice, ,]  This  judge  was  Sir  Wm.  Gascoigne, 
Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench.  He  died  December  17, 1413, 
and  was  buried  in  Harwood  church,  in  Yorkshire.  His  effigy,  in 
judicial  robes,  is  on  his  monument.     Steevens. 

His  portrait,  copied  from  the  monument,  may  be  found  in  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  xi.  p.  516.     Malone. 

There  is  a  much  finer  portrait  of  Sir  Wm.  Gascoigne,  in 
Gough's  Sepulchral  Monuments,  vol.  ii.     Blakeway. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  29 

Fal.  Wait  close,  I  will  not  see  him. 

Ch.  Just.  What's  he  that  goes  there  ? 

Atten.  Falstaff,  an't  please  your  lordship. 

Ch.  Just.  He  that  was  in  question  for  the  rob- 
bery ? 

Atten.  He,  my  lord :  but  he  hath  since  done 
good  service  at  Shrewsbury ;  and,  as  I  hear,  is  now 
going  with  some  charge  to  the  lord  John  of  Lan- 
caster. 

Ch.  Just.  What,  to  York  ?  Call  him  back  again. 

Atten.  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  any 
thing  good. — Go,  pluck  him  by  the  elbow;  I  must 
speak  with  him. 

Atten.  Sir  John, 

Fal.  What!  a  young  knave,  and  beg!  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  any  side  but  one,  it 
is  worse  shame  to  beg  than  to  be  on  the  worst  side, 
were  it  worse  than  the  name  of  rebellion  can  tell 
how  to  make  it. 

Atten.  You  mistake  me,  sir. 

Fal.  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. 

Atten.  I  pray  you,  sir,  then  set  your  knighthood 
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. 

Fal.  I  give  thee  leave  to  tell  me  so  !  I  lay  aside 
that  which  grows  to  me !  If  thou  get'st  any  leave 
of  me,  hang  me;  if  thou  takest  leave,  thou  wert 


30  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

better  be  hanged  :  You  hunt-counter 3,  hence  ! 
avaunt ! 

Atten.  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  lordship 
abroad :  I  heard  say,  your  lordship  was  sick :  I  hope, 
your  lordship  goes  abroad  by  advice.  Your  lord- 
ship, though  not  clean  past  your  youth,  hath  yet 
some  smack  of  age  in  you,  some  relish  of  the  salt- 
ness  of  time;  and  I  most  humbly  beseech  your 
lordship,  to  have  a  reverend  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  ma- 
jesty is  returned  with  some  discomfort  from  Wales. 

3  — hunt-counter,]  That  is,  blunderer.  He  does  not,  I 
think,  allude  to  any  relation  between  the  judge's  servant  and  the 
counter-prison.     Johnson. 

Dr.   Johnson's  explanation  may  be  countenanced  by  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  Ben  Jonson's  Tale  of  a  Tub  : 
"  — —  Do  you  mean  to  make  a  hare 
"  Of  me,  to  hunt  counter  thus,  and  make  these  doubles, 
"  And  you  mean  no  such  thing  as  you  send  about  ?  " 

Again,  in  Hamlet: 

"  O,  this  is  counter,  you  false  Danish  dogs." 

It  should  not,  however,  be  concealed,  that  Randle  Holme,  in 
his  Academy  of  Armory  and  Blazon,  book  iii.  ch.  3,  says  :  "  Hunt 
counter,  when  hounds  hunt  it  by  the  heel."     Steevens. 

Hunt  counter  means,  base  tyke,  or  worthless  dog.  There  can 
be  no  reason  why  Falstaff  should  call  the  attendant  a  blunderer, 
but  he  seems  very  anxious  to  prove  him  a  rascal.  After  all,  it 
is  not  impossible  the  word  may  be  found  to  signify  a  catch-pole  or 
bum-bailiff.     He  was  probably  the  Judge's  tipstaff.     Ritson. 

Perhaps  the  epithet  hunt-counter  is  applied  to  the  officer,  in 
reference  to  his  having  reverted  to  Falstaff's  salvo.     Henley. 

I  think  it  much  more  probable  that  Falstaff  means  to  allude  to 
the  counter- prison.     Sir  T.  Overburv,  in  his  character  of  A  Ser- 
jeant's Yeoman,  1616,  (in  modern  language,  a  bailiff's  follower,) 
calls  him  "  a  counter-raX."     Malone. 
5 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  3! 

Ch.  Just.  I  talk  not  of  his  majesty  : — You  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,  heaven  mend  him  !  I  pray  you, 
let  me  speak  with  you. 

Fal.  This  apoplexy  is,  as  I  take  it,  a  kind  of  le- 
thargy, an't  please  your  lordship*;  a  kind  of-j~ 
sleeping  in  the  blood,  a  whoreson  tingling. 

Ch.  Just.  What  tell  you  me  of  it  ?  be  it  as  it  is. 

Fal.  It  hath  its  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  well4 :  rather,  an't 

*  Folio  omits,  an't  please  your  lordship. 
t  Folio  omits,  kind  of. 

*  Fal.  Very  well,  ray  lord,  very  well :]  In  the  quarto  edition, 
printed  in  1609,  this  speech  stands  thus: 

"  Old.  Very  well,  my  lord,  very  well  ;■        " 

1  had  not  observed  this,  when  I  wrote  my  note  to  The  First 
Part  of  Henry  IV.  concerning  the  tradition  of  FalstafFs  character 
having  been  first  called  Oldcastle.  This  almost  amounts  to  a  self- 
evident  proof  of  the  thing  being  so :  and  that  the  play,  being 
printed  from  the  stage  manuscript,  Oldcastle  had  been  all  along 
altered  into  Falstaff,  except  in  this  single  place  by  an  oversight ; 
of  which  the  printers  not  being  aware,  continued  these  initial 
traces  of  the  original  name.    Theobald. 

I  am  unconvinced  by  Mr.  Theobald's  remark.  Old.  might  have 
been  the  beginning  of  some  actor's  name.  Thus  we  have  Kempe 
and  Cowley,  instead  of  Dogberry  and  Verges,  in  the  4to.  edit,  of 
Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  1600. 

Names  utterly  unconnected  with  the  Personae  Dramatis  of  Shak- 
speare,  are  sometimes  introduced  as  entering  on  the  stage.  Thus, 
in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  edit.  1600  :— "  Enter  th' 
Archbishop,  Thomas  Mowbray,  (Earle  Marshall,)  the  Lord  Has- 
tings, Faulconbridge,  and  Bardolphe."  Sig.  B  4t. — Again :  "  Enter 
the  Prince,  Poynes,  Sir  John  Russell,  with  others."  Sig.  C  3. 
— Again,  in  King  Henry  V.  1600  :  "  Enter  Burbon,  Constable, 
Orleance,  Gebon"     Sig.  D  2. 

Old  might  have  been  inserted  by  a  mistake  of  the  same  kind  ; 


32  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

please  you,  it  is  the  disease  of  not  listening,  the 
malady  of  not  marking,  that  I  am  troubled  withal. 

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- 

or  indeed  through  the  laziness  of  compositors,  who  occasionally 
permit  the  letters  that  form  such  names  as  frequently  occur,  to 
remain  together,  when  the  rest  of  the  page  is  distributed.  Thus 
it  will  sometimes  happen  that  one  name  is  substituted  for  another. 
This  observation  will  be  well  understood  by  those  who  have  been 
engaged  in  long  attendance  on  a  printing-house  ;  and  those  to 
whom  my  remark  appears  obscure,  need  not  to  lament  their 
ignorance,  as  this  kind  of  knowledge  is  usually  purchased  at  the 
expence  of  much  time,  patience,  and  disappointment. 

In  1778,  when  the  foregoing  observations  first  appeared,  they 
had  been  abundantly  provoked.  Justice,  however,  obliges  me 
to  subjoin,  that  no  other  part  of  the  same  censure  can  equitably 
fall  on  the  printing-office  or  compositors  engaged  in  our  present 
republication.     Steevens. 

I  entirely  agree  with  Mr.  Steevens  in  thinking  that  Mr.  Theo- 
bald's remark  is  of  no  weight.  Having  already  discussed  the 
subject  very  fully,  it  is  here  only  necessary  to  refer  the  reader  to 
vol.  xvi.  p.  410,  et  seq.  in  which  I  think  I  have  shewn  that  there  is 
no  proof  whatsoever  that  Falstaff  ever  was  called  Oldcastle  in 
these  plays.  The  letters  prefixed  to  this  speech  crept  into  the 
first  quarto  copy,  I  have  no  doubt,  merely  from  Oldcastle  being 
behind  the  scenes,  the  familiar  theatrical  appellation  of  Falstaff, 
who  was  his  stage-successor.  All  the  actors,  copyists,  &c.  were 
undoubtedly  well  acquainted  with  the  former  character,  and  pro- 
bably used  the  two  names  indiscriminately. — Mr.  Steevens's  sug- 
gestion that  Old.  might  have  been  the  beginning  of  some  actor's 
name  does  not  appear  to  me  probable ;  because  in  the  list  of 
"  the  names  of  the  principal  actors  in  all  these  plays  "  prefixed 
to  the  first  folio,  there  is  no  actor  whose  name  begins  with  this 
syllable;  and  we  may  be  sure  that  the  part  of  Falstaff  was  per- 
formed by  a. principal  actor.     Malone. 

Principal  actors,  as  at  present,  might  have  been  often  changing 
from  one  play-house  to  another  ;  and  the  names  of  such  of  them 
as  had  quitted  the  company  of  Hemings  and  Condell,  might 
therefore  have  been  purposely  omitted,  when  the  list  prefixed  to 
the  folio  1623  was  drawn  up,     Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  33 

scriptions,  the  wise  may  make  some  dram  of  a 
scruple,  or,  indeed,  a  scruple  itself. 

Ch.  Just.  I  sent  for  you,  when  there  were  matters 
against  you  for  your  life,  to  come  speak  with  me. 

Fal.  As  I  was  then  advised  by  my  learned  coun- 
sel in  the  laws  of  this  land-service,  I  did  not  come. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  the  truth  is,  sir  John,  you  live 
in  great  infamy. 

Fal.  He  that  buckles  him  in  my  belt,  cannot 
live  in  less. 

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 5. 

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  Gads-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. 


5  —  he  my  dog.]  I  do  not  understand  this  joke.  Dogs  lead 
the  blind,  but  why  does  a  dog  lead  the  fat?     Johnson. 

If  the  fellow's  great  belly  prevented  him  from  seeing  his  way,  he 
would  want  a  dog  as  well  as  a  blind  man.     Farmer. 

And  though  he  had  no  absolute  occasion  for  him,  Shakspeare 
would  still  have  supplied  him  with  one.  He  seems  to  have  been 
very  little  solicitous  that  his  comparisons  should  answer  com- 
pletely on  both  sides.  It  was  enough  for  him  that  men  were 
sometimes  led  by  dogs.     Malone. 

The  allusion  was  probably  to  some  well-known  character  of  the 
time.  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Discoveries,  has  an  anecdote  of  a  no- 
torious thief  of  the  day,  who  was  remarkable  for  his  great  belly. 
A  little  more  information  respecting  this  person  might  perhaps 
identify  him  with  the  character  here  alluded  to.     Talbot. 

VOL.  XVII.  D 


34  SECOND  PART  OP  actj. 

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  wassel  candle,  my  lord 6 ;  all  tallow :  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. 

Ch.  Just.  You  follow  the  young  prince  up  and 
down,  like  his  ill  angel 7. 

Fal.  Not  so,  my  lord;  your  ill  angel  is  light ; 
but,  I  hope,  he  that  looks  upon  me,  will  take  me 


6  A  wassel  candle,  &c]  A  wassel  candle  is  a  large  candle 
lighted  up  at  a  feast.  There  is  a  poor  quibble  upon  the  word  wax, 
which  signifies  increase  as  well  as  the  matter  of  the  honey-comb. 

Johnson. 
The  same  quibble  has  already  occurred  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Act  V.  Sc.  II. : 

"  That  was  the  way  to  make  his  godhead  wax." 

Steevens. 
1  You  follow  the   young  prince  up  and  down,  like  his  ill 
angel.]     Thus  the  quarto,  1600.     Mr.  Pope  reads  with  the  folio, 
1623, — "  evil  angel."     Steevens. 

What  a  precious  collator  has  Mr.  Pope  approved  himself  in  this 
passage  !  Besides,  if  this  were  the  true  reading,  Falstaff  could 
not  have  made  the  witty  and  humorous  evasion  he  has  done  in 
his  reply.  I  have  restored  the  reading  of  the  oldest  quarto.  The 
Lord  Chief  Justice  calls  Falstaff  the  Prince's  ill  angel  or  genius  : 
which  Falstaff  turns  off  by  saying,  an  ill  angel  (meaning  the  coin 
called  an  angel)  is  light ;  but,  surely,  it  cannot  be  said  that  he  wants 
weight :  ergo — the  inference  is  obvious.  Now  money  may  be 
called  ill,  or  bad ;  but  it  is  never  called  evil,  with  regard  to  its 
being  under  weight.  This  Mr.  Pope  will  facetiously  call  restoring 
lost  puns  :  but  if  the  author  wrote  a  pun,  and  it  happens  to  be 
lost  in  an  editor's  indolence,  I  shall,  in  spite  of  his  grimace,  ven- 
ture at  bringing  it  back  to  light.     Theobald. 

"  As  light  as  a  dipt  angel,"  is  a  comparison  frequently  used  in 
the  old  comedies.     So,  in  Ram-Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

"  — —  The  law  speaks  profit,  does  it  not  ? 

"  Faith,  some  bad  angels  haunt  us  now  and  then." 

Steevens. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  35 

without  weighing :  and  yet,  in  some  respects,  I 
grant,  I  cannot  go,  I  cannot  tell 8 :  Virtue  is  of  so 
little  regard  in  these  coster-monger  times9,  that 
true  valour  is  turned  bear-herd:  Pregnancy1  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,  con- 
sider not  the  capacities  of  us  that  are  young  :  you 
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. 

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  de- 
creasing leg  ?  an  increasing  belly  ?  Is  not  your 
voice  broken  ?  your  wind  short  ?  your  chin  double  ? 
your  wit  single 2  ?  and  every  part  about  you  blasted 

8  —  I  cannot  go,  I  cannot  tell  :]  I  cannot  be  taken  in  a 
reckoning;;  I  cannot  pass  current.     Johnson.  , 

Mr.  Gifford,  in  a  note  on  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  Humour, 
vol.  i.  p.  125,  objects  to  this  explanation.  "  /  cannot  tell  (he 
observes)  means,  /  cannot  tell  what  to  think  of  it,  and  nothing 
more."  The  phrase,  with  that  signification,  was  certainly  com- 
mon ;  but,  as  it  will  also  bear  the  sense  which  Dr.  Johnson  has 
assigned  to  it,  his  interpretation  appears  to  me  to  suit  the  context 
better.     Let  the  reader  judge.     Boswell. 

9  — in  these  coster-monger  times,]  In  these  times  when 
the  prevalence  of  trade  has  produced  that  meanness  that  rates  the 
merit  of  every  thing  by  money.     Johnson. 

A  coster-monger  is  a  costard-monger,  a  dealer  in  apples  called 
by  that  name,  because  they  are  shaped  like  a  costard,  i.  e.  man's 
head.     See  vol.  iv.  p.  327,  n.  6  ;  and  p.  380,  n.  2.     Steevens. 

1  —  Pregnancy  — ]  Pregnancy  is  readiness.  So,  in  Hamlet : 
"  How  pregnant  his  replies  are  ?  "     Steevens. 

7  —  your  wit  single  ?]  We  call  a  man  single-witted,  who  at- 
tains but  one  species  of  knowledge.  This  sense  I  know  not  how. 
to  apply  to  Falstaff,  and  rather  think  that  the  Chief  Justice  hints 
at  a  calamity  always  incident  to  a  grey-haired  wit,  whose  mis- 
fortune is,  that  his  merriment  is  unfashionable.     His  allusions  are 

D  2 


36  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

with  antiquity %  ?  and  will  you  yet  call  yourself 
young  ?  Fye,  fye,  fye,  sir  John  ! 

to  forgotten  facts ;  his  illustrations  are  drawn  from  notions  ob- 
scured by  time ;  his  wit  is  therefore  single,  such  as  none  has  any 
part  in  but  himself.     Johnson. 

I  believe  all  that  Shakspeare  meant  was,  that  he  had  more  fat 
than  wit ;  that  though  his  body  was  bloated  by  intemperance  to 
twice  its  original  size,  yet  his  wit  was  not  increased  in  proportion 
to  it. 

In  ancient  language,  however,  single  often  means  small,  as  in 
the  instance  of  beer  ;  the  strong  and  weak  being  denominated 
double  and  single  beer.  So,  in  The  Captain,  by  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher  :  "  sufficient  single  beer,  as  cold  as  chrystal."  Macbeth 
also  speaks  of  his  "  single  state  of  man."   See  vol.  xi.  p.  49,  n.  6. 

Steevens. 

Johnson's  explanation  of  this  passage  is  not  conceived  with  his 
usual  judgment. — It  does  not  appear  that  Falstaff's  merriment 
was  antiquated  or  unfashionable ;  for  if  that  had  been  the  case, 
the  young  men  would  not  have  liked  it  so  well,  nor  would  that 
circumstance  have  been  perceived  by  the  Chief  Justice,  who  was 
older  than  himself.  But  though  Falstaff  had  such  a  fund  of  wit 
and  humour,  it  was  not  unnatural  that  a  grave  judge,  whose 
thoughts  were  constantly  employed  about  the  serious  business  of 
life,  should  consider  such  an  improvident,  dissipated  old  man,  as 
single-witted  or  half-witted,  as  we  should  now  term  it.  So,  in  the 
next  Act,  the  Chief  Justice  calls  him,  a  great  fool ;  and  even  his 
friend  Harry,  after  his  reformation,  bids  him  not  to  answer  "  with 
z. fool-born  jest,"  and  adds,  "that  white  hairs  ill  become  a  fool 
and  jester." 

I  think,  however,  that  this  speech  of  the  Chief  Justice  is  some- 
what in  Falstaff's  own  style,  which  verifies  what  he  says  of  him- 
self, "  that  all  the  world  loved  to  gird  at  him,  and  that  he  was 
not  only  witty  in  himself,  but  the  cause  that  wit  is  in  other  men." 

M.  Mason. 

I  think   Mr.  Steevens's  interpretation  the  true  one.     Single 
however,    (as  an  anonymous  writer  has  observed,)  may  mean, 
feeble  or  weak.   So,  in  Fletcher's  Queen  of  Corinth,  Act  III.  Sc.  I. : 
"  All  men  believe  it,  when  they  hear  him  speak, 
"  He  utters  such  single  matter,  in  so  infantly  a  voice." 

Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet :  "  O  single-sooRdi  jest,  solely  sin- 
gular for  the  singleness,"  i.  e.  the  tenuity. 

In  our  author's  time,  as  the  same  Writer  observes,  small  beer 
was  called  single  beer,  and  that  of  a  stronger  quality,  double  beer. 

Malone. 

3  —  antiquity?]  To  use  the  word  antiquity  for  old  age,  is  not 
peculiar  to  Shakspeare.    So,  in  Two  Tragedies  in  One,  &c.  1601  : 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  37 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  was  born  about  three  of  the  clock 
in  the  afternoon*,  with  a  white  head,  and  some- 
thing a  round  belly.  For  my  voice, — I  have  lost  it 
with  hollaing,  and  singing  of  anthems.  To  ap- 
prove my  youth  further,  I  will  not :  the  truth  is,  I 
am  only  old  in  judgment  and  understanding ;  and 
he  that  will  caper  with  me  for  a  thousand  marks, 
let  him  lend  me  the  money,  and  have  at  him.  For 
the  box  o'  the  ear  that  the  prince  gave  you, — he 
gave  it  like  a  rude  prince,  and  you  took  it  like  a 
sensible  lord.  1  have  checked  him  for  it ;  and  the 
young  lion  repents :  marry,  not  in  ashes,  and  sack- 
cloth ;  but  in  new  silk,  and  old  sack4. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  heaven  send  the  prince  a  better 
companion ! 

Fal.  Heaven  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  Lancaster,  against  the  archbishop,  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,  an  I  brandish  any  thing  but  my  bottle,  I  would 
I  might  never  spit  white  again 5.     There  is  not  a 

*  Folio  omits  about  three  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon. 

"  For  false  illusion  of  the  magistrates 

u  With  borrow' d  shapes  of  false  antiquity"     Steevens. 

4  —  marry,  not  in  ashes,  and  sackcloth  ;  but  in  new  silk,  and 
old  sack.]  So,  Sir  John  Harrington,  of  a  reformed  brother. 
Epigrams,  1.  3,  17  : 

"  Sackcloth  and  cinders  they  advise  to  use  ; 

"  Sack,  cloves  and  sugar  thou  would'st  have  to  chuse." 

Bowle. 

5  -—  would  I  might  never  spit  white  again.]     i.  e.  May  I 

293837 


38  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

dangerous  action  can  peep  out  his  head,  but  I  am 
thrust  upon  it :  Well,  I  cannot  last  ever :  But  it 
was  always  6  yet  the  trick  of  our  English  nation,  if 
they  have  a  good  thing,  to  make  it  too  common. 
If  you  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  rust,  than  to  be  scoured  to 
nothing  with  perpetual  motion. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  be  honest,  be  honest ;  And  God 
bless  your  expedition ! 

Fal.  Will  your  lordship  lend  me  a  thousand 
pound,  to  furnish  me  forth  ? 

Ch.  Just.  Not  a  penny,  not  a  penny ;  you  are 
too  impatient  to  bear  crosses  7.  Fare  you  well : 
Commend  me  to  my  cousin  Westmoreland. 

[Exeunt  Chief  Justice  and  Attendant. 

Fal.  If  I  do,  fillip  me  with  a  three-man  beetle8. 


never  have  my  stomach  inflamed  again  with  liquor  ;  for,  to  spit 
•white  is  the  consequence  of  inward  heat.  So,  in  Mother  Bombie, 
a  comedy,  1594  :  "  They  have  sod  their  livers  in  sack  these  forty 
years  ;  that  makes  them  spit  white  broth  as  they  do."  Again,  in 
The  Virgin  Martyr,  by  Massinger  : 

"  — —  1  could  not  have  spit  white  for  want  of  drink." 

Steevens. 

6  But  it  was  always,  &c]  This  speech,  in  the  folio,  concludes 
at — "  I  cannot  last  ever."  All  the  rest  is  restored  from  the 
quarto.  A  clear  proof  of  the  superior  value  of  those  editions, 
when  compared  with  the  publication  of  the  players.     Steevens. 

7  —  you  are  too  impatient  to  bear  crosses.]  I  believe  a 
quibble  was  here  intended.  Falstaff  had  just  asked  his  lordship 
to  lend  him  a  thousand  pound,  and  he  tells  him  in  return  that  he 
is  not  to  be  entrusted  with  money.  A  cross  is  a  coin  so  called, 
because  stamped  with  across.     So,  in  As  You  Like  It : 

"  If  I  should  bear  you,  I  should  bear  no  cross." 

Steevens. 

8  —  fillip  me  with  a  three-man  beetle.]  A  beetle  wielded 
by  three  men.     Pope. 

A  diversion  is  common  with  boys  in  Warwickshire  and  the 
adjoining  counties,  on  finding  a  toad,  to  lay  a  board  about  two 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  IV.  39 

— A  man  can  no  more  separate  age  and  covetous- 
ness,  than  he  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  9. 
—Boy! 

Page.  Sir? 

Fal.  What  money  is  in  my  purse  ? 

Page.  Seven  groats  and  two-pence. 

Fal.  I  can  get  no  remedy  against  this  consump- 
tion 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 


or  three  feet  long,  at  right 
angles,  over  a  stick  about 
two  or  three  inches  diame- 
ter, as  per  sketch.  Then  4 
placing  the  toad  at  A,  the  "S|LV 
other  end  is  struck  by  a  bat  or  large  stick,  which  throws  the  crea- 
ture forty  or  fifty  feet  perpendicular  from  the  earth,  and  its  return 
in  general  kills  it.  This  is  called  Filliping  the  Toad. — A  three- 
man  beetle  is  an  implement  used  for  driving  piles  ;  it  is  made  of  a 
log  of  wood  about  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  diameter,  and  four- 
teen or  fifteen  inches  thick,  with  one  short  and  two  long  handles, 
as  per  sketch.  A  man  at 
each  of  the  long  handles  ma- 
nages the  fall  of  the  beetle, 
and  a  third  man,  by  the  short 
handle,  assists  in  raising  it  to  % 
strike  the  blow.  Such  an  implement  was,  without  doubt,  very 
suitable  for  filliping  so  corpulent  a  being  as  Falstaff. 

With  this  happv  illustration,  and  the  drawings  annexed,  I  was 
favoured  by  Mr.  Johnson,  the  architect.     Steevens. 

So,  in  A  World  of  Wonders,  A  Mass  of  Murthers,  A  Covie  of 
Cosenages,  &c.  1595,  sign.  F.  "  —  whilst  Arthur  Hall  was  weigh- 
ing the  plate,  Bullock  goes  into  the  kitchen  and  fetcheth  a  heavie 
washing  belle,  wherewith  he  comming  behinde  Hall,  strake 
him,"  &c.     Reed. 

9  —  prevent  my  curses.]  To  prevent  means,  in  this  place,  to 
anticipate.  So,  in  the  119th  Psalm  :  "  Mine  eyes  prevent  the 
night  watches."     Steevens. 


40  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

sworn  to  marry  since  I  perceived  the  first  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.  It  is  no  matter,  if  I  do 
halt ;  I  have  the  wars  for  my  colour,  and  my  pen- 
sion shall  seem  the  more  reasonable  :  A  good  wit 
will  make  use  of  any  thing  ;  I  will  turn  diseases  to 
commodity  \  [Exit. 

SCENE    III. 

York.     A  Room  in  the  Archbishop's  Palace. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  York,  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  ? 

Motfb.  I  well  allow  the  occasion  of  our  arms ; 
But  gladly  would  be  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. 

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. 

Bard.  The  question  then,  lord  Hastings,  standeth 
thus ; — 
Whether  our  present  five  and  twenty  thousand 

1  —  to  commodity.]     i.  e.  profit,  self-interest.     See  vol.  xv. 
p.  258,  n.  8.     Steevens. 


sail.  KING  HENRY  IV.  41 

May  hold  up  head  without  Northumberland. 

Hast.  With  him,  we  may. 

Bard.  Ay,  marry,  there's  the  point ; 

But  if  without  him  we  be  thought  too  feeble, 
My  judgment  is,  we  should  not  step  too  far*2 
Till  we  had  his  assistance  by  the  hand  : 
For,  in  a  theme  so  bloody-fac'd  as  this, 
Conjecture,  expectation,  and  surmise 
Of  aids  uncertain,  should  not  be  admitted. 

Arch.  'Tis  very  true,  lord  Bardolph  ;  for,  indeed, 
It  was  young  Hotspur's  case  at  Shrewsbury. 

Bard.  It  was,  my  lord ;  who  lin'd  himself  with 
hope, 
Eating  the  air  on  promise  of  supply, 
Flattering  himself  with  project  of  a  power 
Much  smaller 3  than  the  smallest  of  his  thoughts : 
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. 

Bard.  Yes,  in  this  present  quality  of  war  ; — 
Indeed  the  instant  action 4,  (a  cause  on  foot,) 

1  —  step  too  far  — ]  The  four  following  lines  were  added  in 
the  second  edition.     Johnson. 

3  Much  smaller  — ]     i.  e  which  turned  out  to  be  much  smaller. 

MUSGRAVE. 

4  Yes,  in  this  present  quality  of  war;  &c]  These  first  twenty 
lines  were  first  inserted  in  the  folio  of  1623. 

The  first  clause  of  this  passage  is  evidently  corrupted.  All  the 
folio  editions  and  Mr.  Rowe's  concur  in  the  same  reading,  which 
Mr.  Pope  altered  thus  : 

"  Yes,  if  this  present  quality  of  war 

u  Impede  the  instant  act." 
This  has  been  silently  followed  by  Mr.  Theobald,  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  and  Dr.  Warburton  ;  but  the  corruption  is  certainly 
deeper,  for,  in  the  present  reading,  Bardolph  makes  the  incon- 
venience of  hope  to  be  that  it  may  cause  delay,  when,  indeed,  the 
whole  tenor  of  his  argument  is  to  recommend  delay  to  the  rest 


42  SECOND  PART  OF  ^cri. 

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, 

that  are  too  forward.  I  know  not  what  to  propose,  and  am 
afraid  that  something  is  omitted,  and  that  the  injury  is  irreme- 
diable. Yet,  perhaps,  the  alteration  requisite  is  no  more  than 
this  : 

"  Yes,  in  this  present  quality  of  war, 
"  Indeed  of  Instant  action." 

"  It  never,  (says  Hastings,)  did  harm  to  lay  down  likelihoods 
of  hope."  "Yes,  (says  Bardolph,)  it  has  done  harm  in  this  pre- 
sent quality  of  war,  in  a  state  of  things  such  as  is  now  before  us,  of 
war,  indeed  of  instant  action."  This  is  obscure,  but  Mr.  Pope's 
reading  is  still  less  reasonable.     Johnson. 

I  have  adopted  Dr.  Johnson's  emendation,  though  I  think  we 
might  read : 

" if  this  present  quality  of  war 

"  Impel  the  instant  action." 

Hastings  says,  it  never  yet  did  hurt  to  lay  down  likelihoods 
and  forms  of  hope.  Yes,  says  Bardolph,  it  has  in  every  case  like 
ours,  where  an  army  inferior  in  number,  and  waiting  for  supplies, 
has,  without  that  reinforcement,  impelled,  or  hastily  brought  on, 
an  immediate  action.     Steevens. 

If  we  may  be  allowed  to  read — instanc'd,  the  text  may  mean- 
Yes,  it  has  done  harm  in  every  case  like  ours  ;  indeed,  it  did  harm 
in  young  Hotspur's  case  at  Shrewsbury,  which  the  Archbishop  of 
York  has  just  instanced  or  given  as  an  example.     Tollet. 

This  passage  is  allowed  on  all  hands  to  be  corrupt,  but  a  slight 
alteration  will,  I  apprehend,  restore  the  true  reading: 
*'  Yes,  if  this  present  quality  of  war, 
"  Induc'd  the  instant  action."     Henley. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  has  proposed  the  same  reading.     Steevens. 

"  —  in  this  present  quality  of  war;"     This  and  the  following 
nineteen  lines  appeared  first  in  the  folio.     That  copy  reads  : 
"  Yes,  j/"this  present,"  &c. 

I  believe  the  old  reading  is  the  true  one,  and  that  aline  is  lost ; 
but  have  adopted  Dr.  Johnson's  emendation,  because  it  makes 
sense.  The  punctuation  now  introduced  appears  to  me  preferable 
to  that  of  the  old  edition,  in  which  there  is  a  colon  after  the  word 
action. 

Bardolph,  I  think,  means  to  say,  "  Indeed  the  present  action 
(our  cause  being  now  on  foot,  war  being  actually  levied,)  lives  so 
in  hope,"  &c.  otherwise  the  speaker  is  made  to  say,  in  general, 
that  all  causes  once  on  foot  afford  no  hopes  that  may  securely  be 
relied  on  ;  which  is  certainly  not  true.     Malone. 


sc.  m.  KING  HENRY  IV.  43 

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  least 5,  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 
The  plot  of  situation,  and  the  model ; 
Consent  upon  a  sure  foundation  6 ; 
Question  surveyors ;  know  our  own  estate, 
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, 
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. 

Bard.  What !  is  the  king  but  five  and  twenty 
thousand  ? 

Hast.  To  us,  no  more ;  nay,  not  so  much,  lord 
Bardolph. 

s  —  at  least,]     Perhaps  we  should  read — at  last.     Steevens. 

6  Consent  upon  a  sure  foundation  ;]  i.  e.  agree.  So,  in  As 
You  Like  It,  vol.  vi.  p.  487  :  "  For  all  your  writers  do  consent  that 
ipse  is  he."  Again,  ibid.  p.  489  :  "  —  consent  with  both,  that  we 
may  enjoy  each  other."     Steevens. 


44  SECOND  PART  OF  act j. 

For  his  divisions,  as  the  times  do  brawl, 

Are  in  three  heads :  one  power  against  the  French8, 

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  9, 

He  leaves  his  back  unarm'd,  the  French  and  Welsh 
Baying  him  at  the  heels :  never  fear  that. 

Bard.  Who,  is  it   like,  should  lead   his  forces 
hither  ? 

Hast.  The  duke  of  Lancaster,  and  Westmore- 
land x : 

8  —  one  power  against  the  French,]  During  this  rebellion  of 
Northumberland  and  the  Archbishop,  a  French  army  of  twelve 
thousand  men  landed  at  Milford  Haven,  in  Wales,  for  the  aid  of 
Owen  Glendower.     See  Holinshed,  p.  531.     Steevens. 

9  If  he  should  do  so,]  This  passage  is  read,  in  the  first  edition, 
thus  :  "  If  he  should  do  so,  French  and  Welsh  he  leaves  his  back 
unarmed,  they  baying  him  at  the  heels,  never  fear  that."  These 
lines,  which  were  evidently  printed  from  an  interlined  copy  not 
understood,  are  properly  regulated  in  the  next  edition,  and  are 
here  only  mentioned  to  show  what  errors  may  be  suspected  to  re- 
main.    Johnson. 

I  believe  the  editor  of  the  folio  did  not  correct  the  quarto 
rightly  ;  in  which  the  only  error  probably  was  [as  Mr.  Capell  has 
observed]  the  omission  ot  the  word  to  : 

"  To  French  and  Welsh  he  leaves  his  back  unarm'd, 
"  They  baying  him  at  the  heels ;  never  fear  that." 

Malone. 
1  The  duke  of  Lancaster,  &c]  This  is  an  anachronism.    Prince 
John  of  Lancaster  was  not  created  a  duke  till  the  second  year  of 
the  reign  of  his  brother,  King  Henry  V.     Malone. 

This  mistake  is  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Steevens  in  another  place. 
It  is  not,  however,  true,  that  "  King  Henry  IV.  was  himself  the  last 
person  that  ever  bore  the  title  of  Duke  of  Lancaster ;"  as  Prince 
Henry  actually  enjoyed  it  at  this  very  time,  and  had  done  so  from 
the  first  year  of  his  fathers  reign,  when  it  was  conferred  upon  hira 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  45 

Against  the  Welsh,  himself,  and  Harry  Monmouth  : 
But  who  is  substituted  'gainst  the  French, 
I  have  no  certain  notice. 

Arch.  Let  us  on 2 ; 

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. 
O  thou  fond  many'3 !  with  what  loud  applause 
Didst  thou  beat  heaven  with  blessing  Bolingbroke, 
Before  he  was  what  thou  would'st  have  him  be  ? 
And  being  now  trimm'd  in  thine  own  desires, 
Thou,  beastly  feeder,  art  so  full  of  him, 
That  thou  provok'st  thyself  to  cast  him  up. 
So,  so,  thou  common  dog,  didst  thou  disgorge 
Thy  glutton  bosom  of  the  royal  Richard ; 
And  now  thou  would'st  eat  thy  dead  vomit  up, 
And  howl'st  to  find  it.      What  trust  is  in  these 

times  ? 
They  that,  when  Richard  liv'd,  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, 
Cry'st  now,  0  earth,  yield  us  that  king  again, 

in  full  parliament.  Rot.  Pari.  Ill,  428,  532.  Shakspeare  was 
misled  by  Stowe,  who,  speaking  of  Henry's  first  parliament,  says, 
"  — then  the  King  rose,  and  made  his  eldest  son  Prince  of  Wales, 
&c.  his  second  sonne  was  there  made  Duke  of  Lancaster."  An- 
nates, 1631,  p.  323.  He  should  therefore  seem  to  have  consulted 
this  author  between  the  times  of  finishing  the  last  play,  and  be- 
ginning the  present.     Ritson. 

2  Let  us  on  ;  &c]     This  excellent  speech  of  York  was  one  of 
the  passages  added  by  Shakspeare  after  his  first  edition.     Pope. 

This  speech  first  appeared  in  the  folio.     Malone. 

3  O  thou  fond  many  !]     Many  or  meyny,  from  the   French 
mesnie,  a  multitude.     Douce. 


46  SECOND  PART  OF  act  11. 

And  take  thou  this  I  O  thoughts  of  men  accurst! 
Past,  and  to  come,  seem  best;  things  present,  worst. 
Motfb.  Shall  we  go  draw  our  numbers,  and  set 

on  ? 
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  is  your  yeoman 5  ?  Is  it  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. 

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,  a'  cares  not  what  mischief 
he  doth,  if  his  weapon  be  out :  he  will  foin  like  any 
devil;  he  will  spare  neither  man,  woman,  nor  child. 

Fang.  If  I  can  close  with  him,  I  care  not  for  his 
thrust. 

5  Where  is  your  yeoman  ?]  A  bailiffs  follower  was,  in  our  au- 
thor's time,  called  a  Serjeant's  yeoman.     Malone. 


sc.  j.  KING  HENRY  IV.  47 

Host.  No,  nor  I  neither :  I'll  be  at  your  elbow. 

Fang.  An  I  but  fist  him  once ;  an  a'  come  but 
within  my  vice 6 ; — 

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.  He  comes  continuantly  to  Pie- 
corner,  (saving  your  manhoods,)  to  buy  a  saddle ; 
and  he's  indited  to  dinner  to  the  lubbar's  head7  in 
Lumbert-street,  to  master  Smooth's  the  silkman  : 
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  loan 8 
for  a  poor  lone  woman 9  to  bear :  and  I  have  borne, 
and  borne,  and  borne ;  and  have  been  fubbed  off, 

6  —  an  a'  come  but  within  my  vice  ;]  Vice  or  grasp  ;  a  meta- 
phor taken  from  a  smith's  vice  :  there  is  another  reading  in  the  old 
edition,  view,  which  I  think  not  so  good.     Pope. 

Vice  is  the  reading  of  the  folio,  view  of  the  quarto.    Steevens. 
The  Jist  is  vulgarly  called  the  vice  in  the  West  of  England. 

Henley. 

7  —lubbar's  head — ]  This  is,  I  suppose,  a  colloquial  corrup- 
tion of  the  Libbard's  head.     Johnson. 

8  A  hundred  mark  is  a  long  loan  — ]     Old  copy — long  one. 

Steevens. 

A  long  one?  a  long  what?  It  is  almost  needless  to  observe, 
how  familiar  it  is  with  our  poet  to  play  the  chimes  upon  words  si- 
milar in  sound,  and  differing  in  signification  ;  and  therefore  I  make 
no  question  but  he  wrote — "  A  hundred  mark  is  a  long  loan  for  a 
poor  lone  woman  to  bear  :  "  i.  e.  a  hundred  mark  is  a  good  round 
sum  for  a  poor  widow  to  venture  on  trust.     Theobald. 

The  alteration  on  the  suggestion  of  Theobald,  has  been  very 
unnecessarily  and  improperly  made.  The  hostess  means  to  say 
that  a  hundred  mark  is  a  long  mark,  that  is,  score,  reckoning,  for 
her  to  bear.  The  use  of  mark  in  the  singular  number  in  familiar 
language,  admits  very  well  of  this  equivoque.     Douce. 

9  —  a  poor  lone  woman  — ■]  A  lone  rooman  is  an  unmarried 
woman.  So,  in  the  title-page  to  A  Collection  of  Records,  &c. 
1642  :  '*  That  Queen  Elizabeth  being  a  lone  woman,  and  having 
few  friends,  refusing  to  marry,"  &c.  Again,  in  Maurice  Kyffin's 
translation  of  Terence's  Andria,  1588  :  "  Moreover  this  Glyceric 
is  a  lone  woman  ;  " — "  turn  haec  sola  est  mulier."     In  The  First 


48  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

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  ass,  and  a  beast,  to  bear  every  knave's 
wrong. 

Enter  Sir  John  Falstaff,  Page,  and  Bardolph. 

Yonder  he  comes ;  and  that  arrant  malmsey-nose  x 
knave,  Bardolph,  with  him.  Do  your  offices,  do 
your  offices,  master  Fang  and  master  Snare ;  do 
me,  do  me,  do  me  your  offices. 

Fal.  How  now  ?  whose  mare's  dead  ?  what's  the 
matter  ? 

Fang.  Sir  John,  I  arrest  you  at  the  suit  of  mis- 
tress Quickly. 

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'll  throw 
thee  in  the  channel.  Wilt  thou  ?  wilt  thou  ?  thou 
bastardly  rogue  ! — Murder,  murder!  O  thou 
honey- suckle  villain!  wilt  thou  kill  God's  officers, 
and  the  king's?  O  thou  honey-seed  rogue2!  thou 
art  a  honey-seed ;  a  man-queller 3,  and  a  woman- 
queller. 

Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  Mrs.  Quickly  had  a  husband  alive.  She 
is  now  a  widow.     Steevens. 

1  —  malmsey-nose  — ]  That  is,  red  nose,  from  the  effect  of 
malmsey  wine.     Johnson. 

In  the  old  song  of  Sir  Simon  the  King,  the  burthen  of  each 
stanza  is  this  : 

"  Says  old  Sir  Simon  the  king, 
"  Says  old  Sir  Simon  the  king, 
"  With  his  ale-dropt  hose, 
"  And  his  malmsey-nose, 

"  Sing  hey  ding,  ding  a  ding."     Percy. 
*  —  honey-suckle  villain  ! — honey-seed   rogue  !]     The  land- 
lady's corruption  of  homicidal  and  homicide.     Theobald. 

3  —  a  man-queller,]     Wicliff,   in  his  Translation  of  the  New 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  49 

Fal.  Keep  them  off,  Bardolph. 

Fang.  A  rescue !  a  rescue ! 

Host.  Good  people,  bring  a  rescue  or  two. — 
Thou  wot,  wo't  thou4?  thou  wo't,  wo't  thou?  do, 
do,  thou  rogue  !  do,  thou  hemp-seed  ! 

Fal.  Away,  you  scullion  5 !  you  rampallian !  you 
fustilarian 6 !  I'll  tickle  your  catastrophe 7. 

Enter  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  attended. 

Ch.  Just.  What's  the  matter  ?  keep  the  peace 
here,  ho ! 

Host.  Good  my  lord,  be  good  to  me !  I  beseech 
you,  stand  to  me  ! 

Testament,  uses  this  word  for  carnifex.     Mark,   vi.  27:  "Herod 
sent  a  man-queller,  and  commanded  his  head  to  be  brought." 

Steevens. 

4  Thou  wo't,  wo't  thou  ?  &c.]  The  first  folio  reads,  I  think 
less  properly,  "  Thou  wilt  not  ?  thou  wilt  not  ?  "     Johnson. 

*  Fal.  Away,  you  scullion  !]  This  speech  is  given  to  the  Page 
in  all  the  editions  to  the  folio  of  1664.  It  is  more  proper  for  Fal- 
staff,  but  that  the  boy  must  not  stand  quite  silent  and  useless  on 
the  stage.     Johnson. 

6  —  rampallian  ! — fustilarian  !]  The  first  of  these  terms  of 
abuse  may  be  derived  from  tamper,  Fr.  to  be  lotu  in  the  world. 
The  other  from  Justis,  a  club ;  i.  e.  a  person  whose  weapon  of 
defence  is  a  cudgel,  not  being  entitled  to  wear  a  sword. 

The  following  passage,  however,  in  A  New  Trick  to  cheat  the 
Devil,  1639,  seems  to  point  out  another  derivation  of  rampallian  : 
"  And  bold  rampallian  like,  swear  and  drink  drunk." 

It  may  therefore  mean  a  ramping  riotous  strumpet.  Thus,  in 
Greene's  Ghost  haunting  Coneycatchers :  "  Here  was  Wiley 
Beguily  rightly  acted,  and  an  aged  rampalion  put  beside  her 
schoole-tricks."     Steevens. 

Fustilarian  is,  I  believe,  a  made  word,  {romjusty.  Mr.  Stee- 
vens's  last  explanation  of  rampallian  appears  the  true  one. 

Malone. 

7  —  I'll  tickle  your  catastrophe.]  This  expression  occurs 
several  times  in  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton,  1608  :  "  Bankes 
your  ale  is  a  Philistine  ;  foxe  zhart  there  fire  i'  th'  tail  ont ;  you 
are  a  rogue  to  charge  us  with  mugs  i'  th'  rereward.  A  plague  o* 
this  wind  !  O,  it  tickles  our  catastrophe."  Again  :  "  —  to 
seduce  my  blind  customers  ;  I'll  tickle  his  catastrophe  for  this." 

Steevens. 
VOL.  XVII.  E 


60  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iu 

Ch.  Just.  How  now,  sir  John  ?    what,  are  you 
brawling  here  ? 
Doth  this  become  your  place,  your  time,  and  busi- 
ness ? 
You  should  have  been  well  on  your  way  to  York. — 
Stand  from  him,  fellow;  Wherefore  hang'st  thou 
on  him  ? 

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  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'll  ride  thee  o' nights,  like  the  mare. 

Fal.  I  think,  I  am  as  like  to  ride  the  mare  8,  if 
I  have  any  vantage  of  ground  to  get  up. 

Ch.  Just.  How  comes  this,  Sir  John  ?  Fye ! 
what  man  of  good  temper  would  endure  this 
tempest  of  exclamation  ?  Are  you  not  ashamed,  to 
enforce  a  poor  widow  to  so  rough  a  course  to  come 
by  her  own  ? 

Fal.  What  is  the  gross  sum  that  I  owe  thee  ? 

Host.  Marry,  if  thou  wert  an  honest  man,  thy- 
self, and  the  money  too.     Thou  didst  swear  to  me 

8  —  to  ride  the  mare,]  The  Hostess  had  threatened  to  ride 
Falstaff  like  the  Incubus  or  Night- Mare  ;  but  his  allusion,  (if  it 
be  not  a  wanton  one,)  is  to  the  Gallows,  which  is  ludicrously  called 
the  Timber,  or  two-legg'd  Mare.  So,  in  Like  Will  to  Like, 
quoth  the  Devil  to  the  Collier,  1587.  The  Vice  is  talking  of 
Tyburn  : 

"  This  piece  of  land  whereto  you  inheritors  are, 
"  Is  called  the  land  of  the  tivo-legg'd  Mare. 
"  In  this  piece  of  ground  there  is  a  Mare  indeed, 
"  Which  is  the  quickest  Mare  in  England  for  speed." 
,     Again : 

"  I  will  help  to  bridle  the  two-legg'd  Mare 

.*'  And  both  you  for  to  ride  need  not  to  spare."  Steevens. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  51 

upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet 9,  sitting  in  my  Dolphin- 
chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal  fire,  upon 
Wednesday  in  Wheeson  1  week,  when  the  prince 
broke  thy  head  for  liking  his  father  to  a  singing- 
man  a  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  deny  it  ?  Did 
not  goodwife  Keech,  the  butcher's  wife 3,  come  in 

9  — a  parcel-gilt  goblet,]  A  "  parcel-gilt  goblet "  is  a  goblet 
gilt  only  on  such  parts  of  it  as  are  embossed.  On  the  books  of 
the  Stationers'  Company,  among  their  plate  1560,  is  the  follow- 
ing entry  :  "  Item,  nine  spoynes  of  silver,  whereof  vii  gylte  and  ii 
parcell-gylte."  The  same  records  contain  fifty  instances  to  the 
same  purpose :  of  these  spoons  the  saint  or  other  ornament  on 
thehandle  was  the  only  part  gilt.  Thus,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Alchemist: 

"  i or  changing 

"  His  parcel-gilt  to  massy  gold." 
Again,  in  Hey  wood's  Silver  Age,  1613  : 

"  I  am  little  better  than  a  parcel-gilt  bawd." 
Holinshed,  describing  the  arrangement  of  Wolsey's  plate,  says: 
"  —  and  in  the  council-chamber  was  all  white,  and  parcel-gilt 
plate."     Steevens. 

Langham,  describing  a  bride-cup,  says  it  was  "  foormed  of  a 
sweet  sucket  barrel,  a  faire  turn'd  foot  set  too  it,  all  seemly  be- 
svlvered  and  parcel-gilt."  Again,  in  The  XII  Merry  Iestes  of  the 
Widdow  Edyth  : 

"  A  standyng  cup  with  a  cover  parcell  gilt."     Ritson. 
Parcel-gilt  means  what  is  now  called  by  artists  party-gilt  ;  that 
is,  where  part  of  the  work  is  gilt,  and  part  left  plain  or  ungilded. 

Malone. 

1  —  Wheeson  — ]  So  the  quarto.  The  folio  corrects  it — 
Whitsun  ;  but  the  blunder  is  much  in  the  Hostess's  manner.  So, 
Peesel,  for  Pistol,  and  many  other  words  mistaken  in  the  same 
way.     Malone. 

2  —  for  liking  his  father  to  a  singing  man  — ]  Such  is  the 
reading  of  the  first  edition  ;  all  the  rest  have — "  for  likening  him 
to  a  singing  man."  The  original  edition  is  right ;  the  Prince  might 
allow  familiarities  with  himself,  and  yet  very  properly  break  the 
knight's  head  when  he  ridiculed  his  father.     Johnson. 

Liking  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto  1600,  and  is  better  suited 
to  Dame  Quickly  than  likening,  the  word  substituted  instead  of  it, 
in  the  folio.     Malone. 

3  —  goodwife  Keech,  the  butcher's  wife,]  A  Keech  is  the  fat 
of  an  ox  rolled  up  bv  the  butcher  into. a  round  lump.     Steevens. 

E  2 


52  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

then,  and  call  me  gossip  Quickly  ?  coming  in  to 
borrow  a  mess  of  vinegar 3 ;  telling  us,  she  had  a 
good  dish  of  prawns ;  whereby  thou  didst  desire  to 
eat  some  ;  whereby  I  told  thee,  they  were  ill  for  a 
green  wound  ?  And  didst  thou  not,  when  she  was 
gone  down  stairs,  desire  me  to  be  no  more  so  fa- 
miliarity with  such  poor  people ;  saying,  that  ere 
long  they  should  call  me  madam  ?  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  ac- 
quainted 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  4,  as  it  appears 
to  me,  practised  upon  the  easy-yielding  spirit  of  this 

3  —  a  mess  of  vinegar ;]     So,  in  Mucedorus  : 

"  I  tell  you  all  the  messes  are  on  the  table  already, 
"  There  wants  not  so  much  as  a  mess  of  mustard." 

Again,  in  an  ancient  interlude  published  by  Rastel ;  no  title  or 
date : 

"  Ye  mary  sometyme  in  a  messe  of  vergesse." 

A  mess  seems  to  have  been  the  common  term  for  a  small  pro- 
portion of  any  thing  belonging  to  the  kitchen.     Steevens. 
,    So  the  Scriptural  term  :  "  a  mess  of  pottage."     Malone. 

*  —  you  have,  &c]  In  the  first  quarto  it  is  read  thus  : — "  You 
have,  (as  it  appears  to  me,)  practised  upon  the  easy-yielding  spirit 
of  this  woman,  and  made  her  serve  your  uses  both  in  purse  and 
person."  Without  this,  the  following  exhortation  of  the  Chief 
Justice  is  less  proper.     Johnson. 

In  the  folio  the  words — "  and  made  her  serve,"  &c.  were 
omitted.    And  in  the  subsequent  speech,  "  the  villainy  you  have 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  63 

woman,  and  made  her  serve  your  uses  both  in 
purse  and  person. 

Host.  Yea,  in  troth,  my  lord. 

Ch.  Just.  Pry  thee,  peace : — Pay  her  the  debt 
you  owe  her,  and  unpay  the  villainy  you  have  done 
with  her ;  the  one  you  may  do  with  sterling  money, 
and  the  other  with  current  repentance. 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  will  not  undergo  this  sneap 5 
without  reply.  You  call  honourable  boldness,  im- 
pudent sauciness :  if  a  man  will  make  court'sy,  and 
say  nothing,  he  is  virtuous :  No,  my  lord,  my  hum- 
ble duty  remembered,  I  will  not  be  your  suitor ; 
I  say  to  you,  I  do  desire  deliverance  from  these  offi- 
cers, being  upon  hasty  employment  in  the  king's 
affairs. 

Ch.  Just.  You  speak  as  having  power  to  do 
wrong :  but  answer  in  the  effect  of  your  reputation  6, 
and  satisfy  the  poor  woman. 

Fal.  Come  hither,  hostess.     [Taking  her  aside. 

Enter  Goiter. 

Ch.  Just.  Now,  master  Gower,  what  news  ? 
Gow.  The  king,  my  lord,  and  Harry  prince  of 
Wales 

done  •with  her,"  is  improperly  changed  to  "  the  villainy  you  have 
done  her."     Malone. 

5  — r-  this  sneap — ]     A  Yorkshire  word  for  rebuke.     Pope. 
Sneap  signifies  to  check;  as  children  easily  sneaped ;  herbs, 

and  fruits  sneaped  with  cold  weather.     See  Ray's  Collection. 
Again,  in  Jirome's  Antipodes,  1638  : 

"  Do  you  sneap  me  too,  my  lord?  " 
Again : 

"  No  need  to  come  hither  to  be  sneap'd," 
Again  : 

"  — —  even  as  now  I  was  not, 

"  When  you  sneap'd  me,  my  lord." 
The  word  is  derived  from  snyb,  Scotch.     We  still  use  snub  in 
the  same  sense.     Steevens. 

I  can  find  no  authority  for  this  Scotch  etymology.     Boswell. 

6  —  answer  in  the  effect  of  your  reputation,]  That  is,  answer 
in  a  manner  suitable  to  your  character.    Johnson. 


64  SECOND  PART  OF  act  u. 

Are  near  at  hand  :  the  rest  the  paper  tells. 

Fal.  As  I  am  a  gentleman  ; 

Host.  Nay,  you  said  so  before. 

Fal.  As  I  am  a  gentleman  ; Come,  no  more 

words  of  it. 

Host.  By  this  heavenly  ground  I  tread  on,  I  must 
(be  fain  to  pawn  both  my  plate,  and  the  tapestry  of 
my  dining-chambers. 

Fal.  Glasses,  glasses,  is  the  only  drinking  7:  and 
for  thy  walls, — a  pretty  slight  drollery,  or  the  story 
of  the  prodigal,  or  the  German  hunting  in  water- 
work  8,  is  worth  a  thousand  of  these  bed  hangings 9, 

7—1  must  be  fain  to  pawn — my  plate, < 

—  Glasses,  glasses,  is  the  only  drinking:]  Mi's. 
Quickly  is  here  in  the  same  state  as  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  who, 
not  having  been  paid  for  the  diet,  &c.  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
while  she  was  in  his  custody,  in  1580,  writes  as  follows  to  Thomas 
Bawdewyn  :  "  I  wold  have  you  bye  me  glasses  to  drink  in  :  Send 
me  word  what  olde  plat  yeldes  the  ounce,  for  I  wyll  not  leve  me 
a  cuppe  of  sylvare  to  drink  in,  but  I  wyll  see  the  next  terme  my 
creditors  payde."  See  Lodge's  Illustrations  of  English  History, 
vol.  ii.  p.  252.     Steevens. 

8  —  German  hunting  in  water-work,]  i.  e.  in  water  co- 
lours.    Warburton. 

So,  in  Holinshed,  p.  819  :  "  The  king  for  himself  had  a  house 
of  timber,  &c.  and  for  his  other  lodgings  he  had  great  andgoodlie 
tents  of  blue  •waterwork  garnished  with  yellow  and  white."  It 
appears  also  from  the  same  Chronicle,  p.  84-0,  that  these  painted 
cloths  were  brought  from  Holland.  The  German  hunting  was 
therefore  a  subject  very  likely  to  be  adopted  by  the  artists  of  that 
country. 

Drayton,  in  his  4th  Eclogue,  speaks  contemptuously  of  such 
hangings  : 

"  Nor  painted  rags  then  cover'd  rotten  walls."     Steevens. 

The  German  hunting  is,  I  suppose,  hunting  the  wild  boar. 
Shakspeare,  in  another  place,  speaks  of  "  a  full-acorn'd  boar,  a 
German  one."     Farmer. 

9  —these  BED-hangings,]  We  should  read  dead-hangings, 
i.  e.  faded.     Warburton. 

I  think  the  present  reading  may  well  stand.  He  recommends 
painted  canvas  instead  of  tapestry,  which  he  calls  bed-hangings^ 
in  contempt,  as  fitter  to  make  curtains  than  to  hang  walls. 

Johnson. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  55 

and  these  fly  bitten  tapestries.  Let  it  be  ten  pound, 
if  thou  canst.  Come,  an  it  were  not  for  thy  hu- 
mours, there  is  not  a  better  wench  in  England. 
Go,  wash  thy  face,  and  'draw  '  thy  action  ;  Come, 
thou  must  not  be  in  this  humour  with  me ;  dost  not 
know  me  ?  Come,  come,  I  know  thou  wast  set  on 
to  this. 

Host.  Pray  thee,  sir  John,  let  it  be  but  twenty 
nobles ;  i'  faith  I  am  loath  to  pawn  my  plate,  in 
good  earnest,  la. 

Fal.  Let  it  alone;  I'll  make  other  shift :  you'll 
be  a  fool  still. 

Host.  Well,  you  shall  have  it,  though  I  pawn 
my  gown.  I  hope,  you'll  come  to  supper:  You'll  pay 
me  all  together  ? 

Fal.  Will  I  live  ?— Go,  with  her,  with  her ;  \To 
Bardolph1 .]  hook  on,  hook  on. 

Host.  Will  you  have  Doll  Tear-sheet  meet  you 
at  supper  ? 

Fal.  No  more  words  ;  let's  have  her. 

[Exeunt  Hostess,  Bardolph,  Officers, 
and  Page. 

Ch.  Just.  I  have  heard  better  news. 

Fal.  What's  the  news,  my  good  lord  ? 

Ch.  Just.  Where  lay  the  king  last  night  ? 

Gow.  At  Basingstoke3,  my  lord. 

1  — 'draw  thy  action  :]     Draw  means  here  withdraw. 

M.  Mason. 

*  To  Bardolph.]  In  former  editions  the  marginal  direction 
is — To  the  Officers.     Malone. 

I  rather  suspect  that  the  words  hook  on,  hook  on,  are  addressed 
to  Bardolph,  and  mean,  go  you  with  her,  hang  upon  her,  and 
keep  her  in  the  same  humour.  In  this  sense  the  expression  is 
used  in  The  Guardian,  by  Massinger : 

"  Hook  on  ;  follow  him,  harpies."     Steevens. 

3  At  Basingstoke,]  The  quarto  reads  at  Billingsgate.  The 
players  set  down  the  name  of  the  place  which  was  the  most  fami- 
liar to  them.     Steevens. 


56  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

,   Fal.  I  hope,  my   lord,  all's  well :  What's  the 

news,  my  lord  ? 

.    Ch.  Just.  Come  all  his  forces  back  ? 

Gorr.  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  no- 
ble lord  ? 

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  ? 

Gorr.  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 

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. 

The  Same.     Another  Street. 

Enter  Prince  Henry  and  Poms. 
P.  Hen.  Trust  me,  I  am  exceeding  weary. 
Pojns.  Is  it  come  to  that?     I  had   thought, 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  IV.  57 

weariness  durst  not  have  attached 4  one  of  so  high 
blood. 

P.  Hen.  '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. 

P.  Hen.  Belike  then,  my  appetite  was  not 
princely  got ;  for  by  my  troth,  I  do  now  remember 
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,  to  re- 
member thy  name  ?  or  to  know  thy  face  to-mor- 
row ?  or  to  take  note  how  many  pair  of  silk  stock- 
ings thou  hast;  viz.  these,  and  those  that  were  the 
peach  colour'd  ones  ?  or  to  bear  the  inventory  of 
thy  shirts;  as,  one  for  superfluity,  and  one  other  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 ;  as  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 5,  whether  those  that  bawl  out  the 

4  — attached — ]     i.  e.  arrested.     Talbot. 

5  — and  God  knows,  &c]  This  passage  Mr.  Pope  restored 
from  the  first  edition.  I  think  it  may  as  well  be  omitted.  It  is 
omitted  in  the  first  folio,  and  in  all  subsequent  editions  before  Mr. 
Pope's,  and  was  perhaps  expunged  by  the  author.  The  editors, 
unwilling  to  lose  any  thing  of  Shakspeare's,  not  only  insert  what 
he  has  added,  but  recall  what  he  has  rejected.     Johnson. 

I  have  not  met  with  positive  evidence  that  Shakspeare  rejected 
any  passages  whatever.  Such  proof  may  indeed  be  inferred  from 
the  quartos  which  were  published  in  his  life-time,  and  are  de- 
clared (in  their  titles)  to  have  been  enlarged  and  corrected  by 
his  own  hand.  These  I  would  follow,  in  preference  to  the  folio, 
and  should  at  all  times  be  cautious  of  opposing  its  authority  to 
that  of  the  elder  copies.  Of  the  play  in  question,  there  is  no 
quarto  extant  but  that  in  1600,  and  therefore  we  are  unautho- 
rized to  assert  that  a  single  passage  was  omitted  by  consent  of 
the  poet  himself.     I  do  not  think  I  have  a  right  to  expunge  what 


58  SECOND  PART  OF  act  it. 

ruins  of  thy  linen 5,  shall  inherit  his  kingdom :  but 
the  midwives  say,  the  children  are  not  in  the  fault; 
whereupon  the  world  increases,  and  kindreds  are 
mightily  strengthened. 

Poins.  How  ill  it  follows,  after  you  have  laboured 
so  hard,  you  should  talk  so  highly  ?  Tell  me,  how 
many  good  young  princes  would  do  so,  their  fathers 
being  so  sick  as  yours  at  this  time  is  ? 

P.  Hen.  Shall  I  tell  thee  one  thing,  Poins  ? 

Poins.  Yes  ;  and  let  it  be  an  excellent  good 
thing. 

P.  Hen.  It  shall  serve  among  wits  of  no  higher 
breeding  than  thine. 

Poins.  Go  to;  I  stand  the  push  of  your  one 
thing  that  you  will  tell. 

P.  Hen.  Why,  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. 

Poms.  Very  hardly  upon  such  a  subject. 

P.  Hen.  By  this  hand,  thou  think'st  me  as  far  in 
the  devil's  book,  as  thou,  and  Falstaff,  for  obduracy 
and  persistency :  Let  the  end  try  the  man.  But  I 
tell  thee, — my  heart  bleeds  inwardly,  that  my  fa- 

Shakspeare  should  seem  to  have  written,  on  the  bare  authority 
of  the  player-editors.  I  have  therefore  restored  the  passage  in 
question  to  the  text.     Steevens. 

This  and  many  other  similar  passages  were  undoubtedly  struck 
out  of  the  playhouse  copies  by  the  Master  of  the  Revels. 

Malone. 

5  — that  bawl  out  the  ruins  of  thy  linen,]  I  suspect  we  should 
read — "  that  bawl  out  of  the  ruins  of  thy  linen  ;  "  i.  e.  his  bas- 
tard children,  wrapt  up  in  his  old  shirts.  The  subsequent  words 
confirm  this  emendation.  The  latter  part  of  this  speech,  "And 
God  knows,"  &c.  is  omitted  in  the  folio.     Malone. 

"  Out  the  ruins  "  is  the  same  as  "  out  of"  &c.  Of  this  ellip- 
tical phraseology  I  have  seen  instances,  though  I  omitted  to  note 
them.     Steevens. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  59 

ther  is  so  sick  :  and  keeping  such  vile  company  as 
thou  art,  hath  in  reason  taken  from  me  all  osten- 
tation of  sorrow  6. 

Poins.  The  reason? 

P.  Hen.  What  would'st  thou  think  of  me,  if  I 
should  weep  ? 

Poins.  I  would  think  thee  a  most  princely  hypo- 
crite. 

P.  Hen.  It  would  be  every  man's  thought :  and 
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  engrafted  to  Falstaff. 

P.  Hen.  And  to  thee. 

Poins.  By  this  light,  I  am  well  spoken  of,  I  can 
hear  it  with  my  own  ears  :  the  worst  that  they  can 
say  of  me  is,  that  I  am  a  second  brother,  and  that 
I  am  a  proper  fellow  of  my  hands 7 ;  and  those  two 
things,  I  confess,  I  cannot  help.  By  the  mass,  here 
comes  Bardolph. 

P.  Hen,  And  the  boy  that  I  gave  Falstaff :  he 


6  — all  ostentation  of  sorrow.]  Ostentation  is  here  not 
boastful  show,  but  simply  show.     Merchant  of  Venice  : 

" one  well  studied  in  a  sad  ostent 

"  To  please  his  grandame."     Johnson. 

1  —  proper  fellow  of  my  hands  ;]  A  tall  or  proper  fellow  of 
his  hands,  was  a  stout  fighting  man.     Johnson. 

In  this  place,  however,  it  means  a  good  looking,  well  made, 
personable  man.  Poins  might  certainly  have  helped  his  being  a 
fighting  fellow.     Ritson. 

A  handsome  fellow  of  my  size  ;  or  of  my  inches,  as  we  should 
now  express  it.     M.  Mason. 

Proper,  it  has  been  already  observed,  in  our  author's  time, 
signified  handsome.  See  vol.  iv  .p.  94-,  n.  3.  "  As  tall  a  man  of 
his  hands"  has  already  occurred  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 
See  vol.  viii.  p>  47,  n.  4.    Malone. 


60  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

had  him  from  me  christian ;  and  look,  if  the  fat 
villain  have  not  transformed  him  ape. 

Enter  Bardolph  and  Page. 

Bard.  'Save  your  grace  ! 

P.  Hen.  And  yours,  most  noble  Bardolph  ! 

Bard.  Come,  you  virtuous  ass  8,  [To  the  Page.~\ 
you  bashful  fool,  must  you  be  blushing  ?  wherefore 
blush  you  now  ?  What  a  maidenly  man  at  arms  are 
you  become  ?  Is  it  such  a  matter  to  get  a  pottle- 
pot's  maidenhead. 

Page.  He  called  me  even  now,  my  lord,  through 
a  red  lattice 9,  and  I  could  discern  no  part  of  his 
face  from  the  window :  at  last,  1  spied  his  eyes ; 
and,  methought,  he  had  made  two  holes  in  the  ale- 
wife's  new  petticoat,  and  peeped  through. 

P.  Hen.  Hath  not  the  boy  profited  ? 

Bard.  Away,  you  whoreson  upright  rabbit,  away ! 

Page.  Away,  you  rascally  Althea's  dream,  away! 

P.  Hen.  Instruct  us,  boy  :  What  dream,  boy  ? 

Page.  Marry,  my  lord,  Althea  dreamed  she  was 
delivered  of  a  fire-brand l ;  and  therefore  I  call  him 
her  dream. 

P.  Hen.  A  crown's  worth  of  good  interpretation 2. 
— There  it  is,  boy.  [Gives  him  money. 

8  Bard.  Come,  you  virtuous  ass,  &c]  Though  all  the  editions 
give  this  speech  to  Poins,  it  seems  evident,  by  the  Page's  im- 
mediate reply,  that  it  must  be  placed  to  Bardolph  :  for  Bardolph 
had  called  to  the  boy  from  an  ale-house,  and  it  is  likely,  made 
him  half-drunk  ;  and  the  boy  being  ashamed  of  it,  it  is  natural  for 
Bardolph,  a  bold  unbred  fellow,  to  banter  him  on  his  aukward 
bashfulness.    Theobald. 

9  — through  a  red  lattice,]  i.e.  from  an  ale-house  window. 
See  vol.  viii.  p.  77,  n.  6.     Malone. 

1  — Althea  dreamed,  &c]  Shakspeare  is  here  mistaken  in 
his  mythology,  and  has  confounded  Althea's  firebrand  with 
Hecuba's.  The  firebrand  of  Althea  was  real :  but  Hecuba,  when 
she  was  big  with  Paris,  dreamed  that  she  was  delivered  of  a  fire- 
brand that  consumed  the  kingdom.     Johnson. 

*  A  crown's  worth  of  good  interpretation.]     A  Pennyworth  of 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  61 

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  be  hanged 
among  you,  the  gallows  shall  have  wrong. 

P.  Hen.  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 
doth  the  martlemas,  your  master 3  ? 

Bard.  In  bodily  health,  sir. 

Poins.  Marry,  the  immortal  part  needs  a  phy- 
sician: but  that  moves  not  him;  though  that  be 
sick,  it  dies  not. 

P.  Hen.  I  do  allow  this  wen4  to  be  as  familiar 
with  me  as  my  dog :  and  he  holds  his  place ;  for, 
look  you,  how  he  writes. 

Poins.   [Reads i]  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 
king:  for  they  never  prick  their  finger,  but  they 
say,  There  is  some  of  the  King's  blood  spilt :  How 

good  Interpretation,  is,  if  I  remember  right,  the  title  of  some  old 
tract.     Malone. 

3  — the  martlemas,  your  master?]  That  is,  the  autumn,  or 
rather  the  latter  spring.     The  old  fellow  with  juvenile  passions. 

Johnson. 
In  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  the  Prince  calls  Falstaff 
"  the  latter  spring, — all  hallown  summer."     Malone. 

Martlemas  is  corrupted  from  Martinmas,  the  feast  of  St. 
Martin,  the  eleventh  of  November.  The  corruption  is  general 
in  the  old  plays.     So,  in  The  Pinner  of  Wakefield,  1599: 

"  A  piece  of  beef  hung  up  since  Martlemas."    Steevens. 

"  The  martlemas  your  master."     Martinmas,  which  in  Shak- 

speare's  time  fell  later  in  the  month  than  it  does  now,  was  then 

the  chief  time  of  killing  hogs  :  this  is  therefore  only  another  of 

the  innumerable  variations  of  allusion  to  FalstafFs  corpulence. 

Blakeway. 

4  —  this  wen  — ]     This  swoln  excrescence  of  a  man. 

Johnson. 


62  SECOND  PART  OF  jct  if. 

comes  that  ?  says  he,  that  takes  upon  him  not  to 
conceive :  the  answer  is  as  ready  as  a  borrowers 
cap 5 ;  /  am  the  king's  poor  cousin,  sir. 

P.  Hen.  Nay,  they    will  be  kin  to  us,  or  they 
will  fetch  it  from  Japhet.     But  the  letter : — 

Poins.  Sir  John  Falstaff,  knight,  to  the  son  of  the 
king,   nearest   his  father,  Harry  Prince  of  Wales, 
greeting. — Why,  this  is  a  certificate. 
P.  Hen.6  Peace ! 

Pojns.  I  will  imitate  the  honourable  Roman  in 
brevity 7 : — he  sure  means  brevity  in  breath  ;  short- 
winded.—  I  commend  me  to  thee,  I  commend  thee, 
and  I  leave  thee.  Be  not  too  familiar  zcith  Poins  ; 
for  he  misuses  thy  favours  so  much,  that  he  swears, 
thou  art  to  marry  his  sister  Nell.  Repent  at  idle 
times  as  thou  mafst,  and  so  farewell. 

Thine,  by  yea  and  no,  (zvhich  is  as 
much  as  to  say,  as  thou  usest  him,) 
Jack  Falstaff,  with  my  familiars  ; 
3o\m,with  my  brothers  and  sisters; 
and  sir  John  with  all  Europe. 


5  —the  answer  is  as  ready  as  a  borrower's  cap;]  Old  copy 
—a  borrowed  cap.     Steevens. 

But  how  is  a  borrowed  cap  so  ready  ?  Read,  a  borrower's  cap, 
and  then  there  is  some  humour  in  it :  for  a  man  that  goes  to 
borrow  money,  is  of  all  others  the  most  complaisant ;  his  cap  is 
always  at  hand.     Warburtont. 

Dr.  Warburton's  emendation  is  countenanced  by  a  passage  in 
Timon  of  Athens : 

"  '  be  not  ceas'd 

"  With  slight  denial ;  nor  then  silenc'd,  when 

"  Commend  me  to  your  master — and  the  cap 

"  Plays  in  the  right  hand,  thus  : ."     Steevens. 

6  P.  Hen.'}  All  the  editors,  except  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  have 
left  this  letter  in  confusion,  making  the  Prince  read  part,  and 
Poins  part.     I  have  followed  his  correction.     Johnson. 

7  /  will  imitate  the  honourable  Roman  in  brevity .-]  The  old 
copy  reads  Romans,  which  Dr.  Warburton  very  properly  cor- 
rected, though  he  is  wrong  when  he  appropriates  the  character  to 
M.  Brutus,  who  affected  great  brevity  of  style.     I  suppose  by 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  63 

My  lord,  I  will  steep  this  letter  in  sack,  and  make 
him  eat  it. 

P.  Hen.  That's  to  make  him  eat  twenty  of  his 
words8.  But  do  you  use  me  thus,  Ned  ?  must  I 
marry  your  sister  ? 

Bdins.  May  the  wench  have  no  worse  fortune ! 
but  I  never  said  so. 

P.  Hen.  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.  Yes,  my  lord. 

P.  Hen.  Where  sups  he  ?  doth  the  old  boar  feed 
in  the  old  frank 9  ? 

Bard.  At  the  old  place,  my  lord  ;  in  Eastcheap. 

P.  Hen.  What  company  ? 

Page.  Ephesians  *,  my  lord;  of  the  old  church. 

the  honourable  Roman  is  intended  Julius  Caesar,  whose  veni, 
vidi,  vici,  seems  to  be  alluded  to  in  the  beginning  of  the  letter. 
'  I  commend  me  to  thee,  I  commend  thee,  and  I  leave  thee.'  The 
very  words  of  Caesar  are  afterwards  quoted  by  Falstaff.     Heath. 

8  That's  to  make  him  eat  twenty  of  his  words.]  Why  just 
twenty,  when  the  letter  contained  above  eight  times  twenty  ? 
We  should  read  plenty;  and  in  this  word  the  joke,  as  slender  as 
it  is,  consists.     Warburton. 

It  is  not  surely  uncommon  to  put  a  certain  number  for  an  un- 
certain one.  Thus,  in  The  Tempest,  Miranda  talks  of  playing 
*'  for  a  score  of  kingdoms."  Busby,  in  King  Richard  II.  observes, 
that  "  each  substance  of  a  grief  has  twenty  shadows."  In  Julius 
Caesar,  Caesar  says  that  the  slave's  hand  **  did  burn  like  twenty 
torches."  In  King  Lear  we  meet  with  "  twenty  silly  ducking 
observants,"  and,  "  not  a  nose  among  twenty.1'' 

Robert  Green,  the  pamphleteer,  indeed,  obliged  an  apparitor 
to  eat  his  citation,  wax  and  all.  In  the  play  of  Sir  John  Oldcastle, 
the  Summer  is  compelled  to  do  the  like  :  and  says  on  the  occa- 
sion,— "  I'll  eat  my  word."  Harpoole  replies,  "  I  meane  you 
shall  eat  more  than  your  own  word,  I'll  make  you  eate  all  the 
words  in  the  processe."     Steevens. 

9  —  frank  ?]     Frank  is  sty.     Pope. 

1  Ephesians,]  Ephesian  was  a  term  in  the  cant  of  these  times, 
of  which  I  know  not  the  precise  notion:  it  was,  perhaps,  a  toper. 
So,  the  Host,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  :  "  It  is  thine 
host,  thine  Ephesian  calls."     Johnson. 


64  SECOND  PART  OF  act  it. 

P.  Hen.  Sup  any  women  with  him  ? 

Page.  None,  my  lord,  but  old  mistress  Quickly, 
and  mistress  Doll  Tear-sheet 2. 

P.  Hen.  What  pagan  may  that  be 3  ? 

Page.  A  proper  gentlewoman,  sir,  and  a  kins- 
woman of  my  master's. 

P.  Hen.  Even  such  kin  as  the  parish  heifers  are 
to  the  town  bull. — Shall  we  steal  upon  them,  Ned, 
at  supper  ? 

Poins.  I  am  your  shadow,  my  lord  ;  I'll  follow 
you. 

P.  Hen.  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. 

P.  Hen.  Fare  ye  well;  go.  [Exeunt  Bardolph 
andPage^] — This  Doll  Tear-sheet  should  be  some 
road. 

Poms.  I  warrant  you  as  common  as  the  way  be- 
tween Saint  Alban's  and  London. 

P.  Hen.  How  might  we  see  Falstaff  bestow  him- 
self to-night  in  his  true  colours,  and  not  ourselves 
be  seen  ? 


*  —  Doll  Tear-sheet.]     Shakspeare  might  have  taken  the  hint 
for  this  name  from  the  following  passage  in  The  Playe  of  Robyn 
Hoode,  very  proper  to  be  played  in  Maye  Games,  bl.  I.  no  date  : 
"  She  is  a  trul  of  trust,  to  serve  a  frier  at  his  lust, 
"  A  prycker,  a  prauncer,  a  terer  of  shetes,"  &c. 

Steevens. 
3  What  pagan  may  that  be  ?]     Pagan  seems  to  have  been  a 
cant  term,  implying  irregularity  either  of  birth  or  manners. 
So,  in  The  Captain,  a  comedy,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 
"  Three  little  children,  one  of  them  was  mine  ; 
"  Upon  my  conscience  the  other  two  were  pagans." 
In  The  City  Madam  of  Massinger  it  is  used  (as  here)  for  a 
prostitute  : 

" in  all  these  places 

"  I've  had  my  several  Pagans  billeted."     Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  65 

Poms.  Put  on  two  leather  jerkins  4,  and  aprons, 
and  wait  upon  him  at  his  table  as  drawers. 

P.  Hen.  From  a  god  to  a  bull  ?  a  heavy  descen- 
sion 5 !  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, 

4  Put  on  two  leather  jerkins,]  This  was  a  plot  very  unlikely 
to  succeed  where  the  Prince  and  the  drawers  were  all  known ; 
but  it  produces  merriment,  which  our  author  found  more  useful 
than  probability.     Johnson. 

Johnson  forgets  that  all  the  family  were  in  the  secret,  except 
Falstaff;  and  that  the  Prince  and  Poins  were  disguised. 

M.  Mason. 

But  how  does  this  circumstance  meet  with  Dr.  Johnson's  ob- 
jection ?  The  improbability  arises  from  Falstaff's  being  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  waiters  in  the  house ;  and  however 
disguised  the  Prince  and  Poins  might  be,  or  whatever  aid  they 
might  derive  from  the  landlord  and  his  servants,  they  could  not 
in  fact  pass  for  the  old  attendants,  with  whose  person,  voice,  and 
manner,  Falstaff  was  well  acquainted.  Accordingly  he  discovers 
the  Prince  as  soon  as  ever  he  speaks.  However,  Shakspeare's 
chief  object  was  to  gain  an  opportunity  for  Falstaff  to  abuse  the 
Prince  and  Poins,  while  they  remain  at  the  back  part  of  the  stage 
in  their  disguises  :  a  jeu  de  theatre  which  he  practised  in  other 
plays,  and  which  always  gains  applause.     Malone. 

'  —  a  heavy  descension  !]  Descension  is  the  reading  of  the 
first  edition. 

Mr.  Upton  proposes  that  we  should  read  thus  by  transposition  : 
*  From  a  god  to  a  bull  ?  a  low  transformation  ! — from  a  prince  to 
a  prentice  ?  a  heavy  declension  ! '  This  reading  is  elegant,  and 
perhaps  right.     Johnson. 

The  folio  reads — declension.     Malone. 
VOL.  XVII.  F 


66  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

Give  even  way  unto  my  rough  affairs : 
Put  not  you  on  the  visage  of  the  times, 
And  be,  like  them,  to  Percy  troublesome. 

Lady  N.  I  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  Gods  sake,  go  not  to  these 
wars! 
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  6. 
Who  then  persuaded  you  to  stay  at  home  ? 
There  were  two  honours  lost ;  yours,  and  your  son's. 
For  yours, — may  heavenly  glory  brighten  it ! 
For  his, — it  stuck  upon  him,  as  the  sun 
In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven  7 :  and,  by  his  light, 
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  8,  that  practised  not  his  gait ; 

6  Threw  many  a  northward  look,  to  see  his  father 

Bring  up  his  powers  ;  but  he  did  long  in  vain.]     Mr.  Theo- 
bald very  elegantly  conjectures  that  the  poet  wrote, 

" but  he  did  look  in  vain." 

Statius,  in  the  tenth  Book  of  his  Thebaid,  has  the  same  thought : 

— frustra  de  colle  Lycsei 

Anxia  prospectas,  si  quis  per  nubila  longe 

Aut  sonus,  aut  nostro  sublatus  ab  agmine  pulvis. 

Steevens. 

7  In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven  :]     So,  in  one  of  our  author's 
Doems  to  his  mistress : 

"  And  truly,  not  the  morning  sun  of  heaven 

"  Better  becomes  the  grey  cheeks  of  the  east,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

8  He  had  no  legs,  &c]     The  twenty-two  following  lines  are 
of  those  added  by  Shakspeare  after  his  first  edition.     Pope. 

They  were  first  printed  in  the  folio,  1623,    Malone. 


sc.  ///.  KING  HENRY  IV.  67 

And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish, 

Became  the  accents  of  the  valiant 9 ; 

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, 

In  military  rules,  humours  of  blood, 

He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 

That  fashion'd  others1.     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 2 : — so  you  left  him: 
Never,  O  never,  do  his  ghost  the  wrong, 
To  hold  your  honour  more  precise  and  nice 
With  others,  than  with  him ;  let  them  alone  ; 

9  And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish, 
Became  the   accents  of  the  valiant ;]     Speaking   thick  is, 
speaking  fast,  crouding  one  word  on  another.     So,  in  Cymbeline  : 
"  ■         say,  and  speak  thick, 

"  Love's  counsellor  should  fill  the  bores  of  hearing — ." 
"  Became  the  accents  of  the  valiant "  is,  "  came  to  be  affected 
by  them,"  a  sense  which  (as  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes)  is  con- 
firmed by  the  lines  immediately  succeeding : 

"  For  those  that  could  speak  low,  and  tardily, 
"  Would  turn  their  own  perfection  to  abuse, 

"  To  seem  like  him* ." 

The  opposition  designed  by  the  adverb  tardily,  also  serves  to 
support  my  explanation  of  the  epithet  thick.     Steevens. 

1  He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 

That  fashion'd  others.]     So,  in  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrece, 
1594: 

"  For  princes  are  the  glass,  the  school,  the  book, 
"  Where  subjects'  eyes  do  learn,  do  read,  do  look." 

Malone. 

2  Did  seem  defensible  :]  Defensible  does  not  in  this  place 
mean  capable  of  defence,  but  bearing  strength,  furnishing  the 
means  of  defence ;  the  passive  for  the  active  participle.   Malone. 

F  2 


68  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

The  marshal,  and  the  archbishop,  are  strong. 
Had  my  sweet  Harry  had  but  half  their  numbers, 
To-day  might  1,  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  ; 
Ox  it  will  seek  me  in  another  place, 
And  find  me  worse  provided. 

Lady  N.  O,  fly  to  Scotland. 

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 3  with  mine  eyes, 
That  it  may  grow  and  sprout  as  high  as  heaven, 
For  recordation  to  my  noble  husband. 

North.  Come,  come,  go  in  with  me :  'tis  with 
my  mind, 
As  with  the  tide  swell'd  up  unto  its  height, 
That  makes  a  still-stand,  running  neither  way. 
Fain  would  I  go  to  meet  the  archbishop, 
But  many  thousand  reasons  hold  me  back : 


3  To  rain  upon  rbmembrance— -]     Alluding  to  the  plant  rose- 
mary, so  called,  and  used  in  funerals. 
Thus,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  For  you  there's  rosemary  and  rue,  these  keep 
"  Seeming  and  savour  all  the  winter  long: 
*J  Grace  and  remembrance  be  to  you  both,"  &c. 
For  as  rue  was  called  herb  of  grace,  from  its  being  used  in 
exorcisms ;  so  rosemary  was  called  remembrance,  from  its  being 
a  cephalic.     Warburton. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  69 

I  will  resolve  for  Scotland ;  there  am  I, 
Till  time  and  vantage  crave  my  company. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV. 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Boar's  Head  Tavern,  in 
Eastcheap4. 

Enter  Two  Drawers. 

1  Draw.  What  the  devil  hast  thou  brought  there  ? 
apple-Johns  ?  thou  know'st  sir  John  cannot  endure 
an  apple- John5. 

QDratf.  Mass,  thou  sayest  true:  The  prince 
once  set  a  dish  of  apple-John's  before  him:  and 
told  him,  there  were  five  more  sir  Johns :  and,  put- 
ting off  his  hat,  said,  /  will  now  take  my  leave  of 

*  — Boar's  Head  Tavern,  in  Eastcheap.]  Shakspeare  (as  I 
learn  from  ray  friend  Mr.  Petrie),  has  with  propriety  selected  the 
Boar's  Head  in  Eastcheap,  for  the  scene  of  Prince  Henry's  merry 
meetings,  as  it  was  near  his  own  residence  :  "  A  mansion  called 
Cold-harbour  (near  All-hallows  Church,  Upper  Thames  Street, 
three  minutes  walk  from  the  Boar's  Head)  was  granted  to  Henry 
Prince  of  Wales,  11  Henry  IV.  (14-10)."  Rymer,  vol.  viii.  p.  628, 
London  edit.     Boswell. 

s  — an  apple-John.]  So,  in  The  Ball,  by  Chapman  and 
Shirley,  1639: 

" thy  man,  Apple-John,  that  looks 

"  As  he  had  been  a  sennight  in  the  straw, 
"  A  ripening  for  the  market." 

This  apple  will  keep  two  years,  but  becomes  very  wrinkled  and 
shrivelled.  It  is  called  by  the  French, — Deux-ans.  Thus, 
Cogan,  in  his  Haven  of  Health,  1595:  "  The  best  apples  that 
we  have  in  England  are  pepins,  deusants,  costards,  darlings,  and 
such  other."  Again,  among  instructions  given  in  the  year  1580 
to  some  of  our  navigators,  '*  for  banketting  on  shipboard  persons 
of  credite,"  we  meet  with  "  the  apple  John  that  dureth  two 
yeares,  to  make  shew  of  our  fruits.     See  Hackluyt,  vol.  i.  p.  441. 

Steevews. 

Falstaff  has  already  said  of  himself,  I  am  withered  like  an  old 
apple-John.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  336.     Boswell. 


70  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

these  sLv  dry,  round,  old,  withered  knights.     It  an- 
gered him  to  the  heart ;  but  he  hath  forgot  that. 

1  Draw.  Why  then,  cover,  and  set  them  down  : 
And  see  if  thou  canst  find  out  Sneak's  noise 5 ;  mis- 
tress Tear-sheet  would  fain  hear  some  musick. 
Dispatch  6 : — The  room  where  they  supped,  is  too 
hot ;  they'll  come  in  straight. 

2  Draw.  Sirrah,  here  will  be  the  prince,  and 
master  Poins  anon :  and  they  will  put  on  two  of  our 
jerkins,  and  aprons  ;  and  sir  John  must  not  know 
of  it :  Bardolph  hath  brought  word. 


5  — Sneak's  noise;]  Sneak  was  a  street  minstrel,  and 
therefore  the  drawer  goes  out  to  listen  if  he  can  hear  him  in  the 
neighbourhood.     Johnson. 

A  noise  of  musicians  anciently  signified  a  concert  or  company 
of  them.  In  the  old  play  of  Henry  V.  (not  that  of  Shakspeare) 
there  is  this  passage :  " — there  came  the  young  prince,  and 
two  or  three  more  of  his  companions,  and  called  for  wine  good 
store,  and  then  they  sent  for  a  not/se  of  musitians,"  &c. 

Falstaff  addresses  them  as  a  company  in  another  scene  of  this 
play.  So  again,  in  Westward  Hoe,  by  Deckar  and  Webster, 
1607  :  "  All  the  noise  that  went  with  him,  poor  fellows,  have 
had  their  fiddle-cases  pulled  over  their  ears." 

Again,  in  The  Blind  Beggar  of  Alexandria,  a  comedy,  printed 
1598,  the  Count  says  :  "  O  that  we  had  a  noise  of  musicians,  to 
play  to  this  antick  as  we  go." 

Heywood,  in  his  Iron  Age,  1632,  has  taken  two  expressions 
from  these  plays  of  Henry  IV.  and  put  them  into  the  mouth  of 
Thersites  addressing  himself  to  Achilles: 

"  Where's  this  great  sivord  and  buckler  man  of  Greece, 
"  We  shall  have  him  in  one  of  Sneak's  noise, 
"  And  come  peaking  into  the  tents  of  the  Greeks, 
"  With, — will  you  have  any  musick,  gentlemen  ?  " 
Among  Ben  Jonson's  Leges  Convivales  is — 

Fidicen,  nici  accersitus,  non  venito.     Steevens. 
A  noise  was  so  familiarlyusedfora  concert,  that  it  is  employed  as 
a  ludicrous  metaphor  in  the  Chances,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 
"  He's  neer  without  a  noise  of  syringes 
"  In's  pocket — ."     Boswell. 
6  Dispatch,  &c]     This  period  is  from  the  first  edition.     Pope. 
These  words,  which  are  not  in  the  folio,  are  in  the  quarto  given 
to  the  second  drawer.     Mr.  Pope  rightly  attributed  them  to  the 
first.     Malone. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  IV.  71 

1  Draw.  By  the  mass,  here  will  be  old  utis 7 :  It 
will  be  an  excellent  stratagem. 

2  Draw.  I'll  see,  if  I  can  find  out  Sneak. 

{Exit. 

Enter  Hostess  and  Doll  Tear-sheet. 

Host.  Ffaith,  sweet  heart,  methinks  now  you 
are  in  an  excellent  good  temperality :  your  pulsidge 

7  — here  will  be  old  utis:]  Utis,  an  old  word  yet  in  use 
in  some  counties,  signifying  a  merry  festival,  from  the  French 
huity  octo,  ab  A.  S.  6ahca,  Octaveejesti  alicujus. — Skinner. 

Pope. 
Skinner's  explanation  of  utis  (or  utas)  may  be  confirmed  by  the 
following  passage  from  T.  M.'s  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  More; 
"  —  to-morrow  is  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  s  eeve,  and  the 
utas  of  St.  Peter — ."  The  eve  of  Thomas  a  Becket,  according 
to  the  new  style,  happens  on  the  6th  of  July,  and  St.  Peter's 
day  on  the  29th  of  June. 

Again,  in  A  Contention  between  Liberality  and  Prodigality,  a 
comedy,  1602: 

"  Then  if  you  please,  with  some  roysting  harmony, 
*'  Let  us  begin  the  utas  of  our  iollitie."     Henley. 
In  Warwickshire,  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sharp  informs  me,  utis  is 
still  used  for  what  is  called  a  roxv,  a  scene  of  noisy  turbulence. 

Malone. 
Old,  in  this  place,  does  not  mean  ancient,  but  was  formerly  a 
common  augmentative  in  colloquial  language,     Old  utis  signifies 
festivity  in  a  great  degree. 
So,  in  Lingua,  1 607  : 

" there's  old  moving  among  them." 

Again,  in  Decker's  comedy,  called,  If  this  be  not  a  good  Play 
the  Devil  is  in  it,  1612  : 

"  We  shall  have  old  breaking  of  necks  then." 
Again,  in  Soliman  and  Perseda,  1 599 : 

"  I  shall  have  old  laughing." 
Again,  in  Arden  of  Feversham,  1592  : 

**  Here  will  be  old  filching,  when  the  press  comes  out  of 
Paul's."     Steevens. 
This  expression  has  long  existed  in  our  language.     We  meet 
with  it  in  Le  Bone  Florence.     Ritson's  Romances,  vol.  iii.  p.  29  : 
"  With  sharpe  swyrdis  foght  they  then 
"  They  had  be  two  full  doghty  men, 

"  Gode-olde  fyghtyng  was  there."     Boswell. 
See  vol.  v.  p.  441,  n.  4.     Malone. 


72  SECOND  PART  OF  apt  u. 

beats 8  as  extraordinarily  as  heart  would  desire  ;  and 
your  colour,  I  warrant  you,  is  as  red  as  any  rose : 
But,  i'faith,  you  have  drunk  too  much  canaries ; 
and  that's  a  marvellous  searching  wine,  and  it  per- 
fumes the  blood 9  ere  one  can  say, — What's  this  ? 
How  do  you  now  ? 

Dol.  Better  than  I  was.     Hem. 

Host.  Why,  that's  well  said ;  a  good  heart's  worth 
gold.     Look,  here  comes  sir  John. 

Enter  Falstaff,  singing, 

Ial.  When  Arthur  first  in  court 1 — Empty  the 
Jordan. — And  was  a  worthy  king :  [Exit  Drawer^] 
How  now,  mistress  Doll  ? 

Host.  Sick  of  a  calm  2 :  yea,  good  sooth. 

Fal.  So  is  all  her  sect 3 ;  an  they  be  once  in  a 
calm,  they  are  sick. 


8  —  your  pulsidge  beats,  &c]  One  would  almost  regard  this 
speech  as  a  burlesque  on  the  following  passage  in  the  interlude 
called  The  Repentance  of  Mary  Magdalene,  1567.  Infidelity 
says  to  Mary: 

"  Let  me  fele  yourpoulses,  mistresse  Mary,  be  yousicke? 
"  By  my  troth  in  as  good  tempre  as  any  woman  can  be ; 
"  Your  vaines  are  as  full  of  blood,  lusty  and  quicke, 
"  In  better  taking  truly  I  did  you  never  see."     Steevens. 

9  — a  marvellous  searching  wine,  and  it  perfumes  the 
blood — ]  The  same  phraseology  is  seriously  used  by  Arthur 
Hall,  in  his  translation  of  the  first  Iliad,  4to.  1581 : 

"  ■        good  Chrise  with  wine  so  red 

"  The  aulter  throughly  doth  perfume — ."     Steevens. 
x   When  Arthur  first  in  court  — ]     The  entire  ballad  is  pub- 
lished in  the   first  volume  of  Dr.  Percy's  Reliques  of  ancient 
English  Poetry.     Steevens. 
The  words  in  the  ballad  are — 

"  When  Arthur  first  in  court  began, 
"  And  was  approved  king."     Malone. 
a  Sick  of  a  calm  :]     I  suppose  she  means  to  say  of  a  qualm. 

Steevens. 
3  So  is  all  her  sect  ;]     I  know  not  why  sect  is  printed  in  all  the 
copies  ;  I  believe  sex  is  meant.     Johnson. 

Sect  is,  I  believe,  right.     Falstafi;  may  mean  '  all  of  her  prqfes- 


m  ir.  KING  HENRY  IV.  73 

Dou  You  muddy  rascal,  is  that  all  the  comfort 
you  give  me  ? 

Fal.  You  make  fat  rascals 4,  mistress  Doll. 

sion.'     In  Mother  Bombie,  a  comedy,  1594-,  the  word  is  frequently 
used : 

'•  Sil.  I  am  none  of  that  sect. 

'*  Can.  Thy  loving  sect  is  an  ancient  sect,  and  an  honour- 
able," &c. 

Since  the  foregoing  quotation  was  given,  I  have  found  sect  so 
often  printed  for  sex  in  the  old  plays,  that  I  suppose  these  words 
were  anciently  synonymous.  Thus,  in  Marston's  Insatiate  Coun- 
tess, 1613: 

"  Deceives  our  sect  of  fame  and  chastity." 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Valentinian  : 
"  '  Modesty  was  made 

"  When  she  was  first  intended  :  when  she  blushes 
"  It  is  the  holiest  thing  to  look  upon, 
"  The  purest  temple  of  her  sect,  that  ever 
"  Made  nature  a  blest  founder." 
Again,  in  Whetstone's  Arbour  of  Vertue,  1576  : 

"  Who,  for  that  these  barons  so  wrought  a  slaunder  to  her 

sect, 
"  Their  foolish,  rash,  and  judgment  false,  she  sharplie  did 
detect."     Steevens. 
In  Middleton's  Mad  World  my  Masters,  1608,  (as  Dr.  Farmer 
has  elsewhere  observed,)  a  courtezan  says,   "  it  is  the  easiest  art 
and  cunning  for  our  sect  to  counterfeit  sick,  that  are  always  full  of 
fits,  when  we  are  well."     I  have  therefore  no  doubt  that  sect  was 
licentiously  used  by  our  author,  and  his  contemporaries,  for  sex. 

Malgne, 
I  believe  sect  is  here  used  in  its  usual  sense,  and  not  for  sex. 
Falstaff  means  to  say,  that  all  courtezans,  when  their  trade  is  at  a 
stand,  are  apt  to  be  sick.     Douce. 

*  You  make  fat  rascals,]  Falstaff  alludes  to  a  phrase  of  the 
forest.  Lean  deer  are  called  rascal  deer.  He  tells  her  she  calls 
him  wrong,  being^A^  he  cannot  be  a  rascal.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle  : 
"  The  heavy  hart,  the  blowing  buck,  the  rascal,  and  the  pricket." 
Again,  in  The  Two  Angry  Women  of  Abington,  1599 : 

"  What  take  you? — Deer.— You'll  ne'er  strike  rascal?" 
Again,  in  Quarles's  Virgin  Widow,  1656: 

"  — —  and  have  known  a  rascal  from  a  fat  deer." 
"  Rascall,  (says  Puttenham,  p.  150,)  is  properly  the  hunting 
terme  given  to  young  deere,  Icane  and  out  of  season,  and  not  to 
people."     Steevens. 


74  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

Dol.  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  of  you, 
Doll,  we  catch  of  you  ;  grant  that,  my  poor  virtue, 
grant  that. 

Dol.  Ay,  marry ;  our  chains,  and  our  jewels. 

Fal.   Your  brooches,  pearls,  and  owches 5 : — 'for 


To  grow  fat  and  bloated  is  one  of  the  consequences  of  the  ve- 
nereal disease  ;  and  to  that  Falstaff  probably  alludes.  There  are 
other  allusions,  in  the  following  speeches,  to  the  same  disorder. 

M.  Mason. 

s  Your  brooches,  pearls,  and  owches  ;]  Brooches  were 
chains  of  gold  that  women  wore  formerly  about  their  necks. 
Owches  were  bosses  of  gold  set  with  diamonds.     Pope. 

I  believe  Falstaff  gives  these  splendid  names  as  we  give  that 
of  carbuncle,  to  something  veiy  different  from  gems  and  orna- 
ments :  but  the  passage  deserves  not  a  laborious  research. 

Johnson. 

Brooches  were,  literally,  clasps,  or  buckles,  ornamented  with 
gems.  See  vol.  xii.  p.  382,  n.  8,  a  note  on  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra. 

Mr.  Pope  has  rightly  interpreted  otvches  in  their  original  sense. 
So,  in  Nash's  Lenten  Stuff,  &c.  1599  :  "  — three  scarfs,  brace- 
lets, chains,  and  ouches."  It  appears  likewise  from  a  passage  in 
the  ancient  satire'called  Cocke  Lorelles  Bote,  printed  by  Wynkyn 
de  Worde,  that  the  makers  of  these  ornaments  were  called 
owchers : 

"  Owchers,  skynners,  and  cutlers." 

Dugdale,  p.  234-,  in  his  Account  of  the  Will  of  T.  de  Beau- 
champ,  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  the  time  of  Edward  III.  says  :  "  His 
jewels  be  thus  disposed  :  to  his  daughter  Stafford,  an  ouche  called 
the  eagle,  which  the  prince  gave  him  ;  to  his  daughter  Alice,  his 
next  best  ouche." 

"  With  brooches,  rings,  and  owches,"  is,  however,  a  line  in  the 
ancient  ballad  of  The  Boy  and  the  Mantle.  See  Percy's  Reliques, 
&c.  4th  edit.  vol.  iii.  p.  341.  Dr.  Johnson's  conjecture  may  be 
supported  by  a  passage  in  The  Widow's  Tears,  a  comedy,  by 
Chapman,  1612  : 

" As  many  aches  in  his  bones,  as  there  are  ouches  in  his 

skin." 

Again,  in  The  Duke's  Mistress,  by  Shirley,  1638,  Valerio, 
speaking  of  a  lady's  nose,  says  : 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  75 

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 6  bravely : 

Dol.  Hang  yourself,  you  muddy  conger,  hang 
yourself  * ! 

Hosr.  By  my  troth,  this  is  the  old  fashion  ;  you 
two  never  meet,  but  you  fall  to  some  discord  :  you 
are  both,  in  good  troth,  as  rheum  atick 7  as  two  dry 

*  Folio  omits  this  speech. 

"  It  has  a  comely  length,  and  is  well  studded 
"  With  gems  of  price ;  the  goldsmith  would  give  money 
for't."     Steevens. 

6  —  the  charged  chambers  — ]  To  understand  this  quibble, 
it  is  necessary  to  say,  that  a  chamber  signifies  not  only  an  apart- 
ment, but  a  piece  of  ordnance. 

So,  in  The  Fleire,  a  comedy,  1610 :  "  —  he  has  taught  my 
ladies  to  make  fireworks  ;  they  can  deal  in  chambers  already,  as 
well  as  all  the  gunners  that  make  them  fly  off  with  a  train  at  Lam- 
beth, when  the  mayor  and  aldermen  land  at  Westminster." 

Again,  in  The  Puritan,  1605  :  " — only  your  chambers  are  li- 
censed to  play  upon  you,  and  drabs  enow  to  givejire  to  them." 

A  chamber  is  likewise  that  part  in  a  mine  where  the  powder  is 
lodged.     Steevens. 

Chambers  are  very  small  pieces  of  ordnance  which  are  yet  used 
in  London  on  what  are  called  rejoicing  days,  and  were  sometimes 
used  in  our  author's  theatre  on  particular  occasions.  See  King 
Henry  VIII.  Act  I.  Sc.  III.     Malone. 

7 — rheumatick — ]     She  would  say  splenetick.     Hanmer. 

I  believe  she  means  what  she  says.  So,  in  Ben  Jonson's 
Every  Man  in  his  Humour  : 

"  Cob.  Why  I  have  my  revome,  and  can  be  angry." 

Again,  in  our  author's  King  Henry  V. :  "  He  did  in  some  sort 
handle  women  ;  but  then  he  was  rheumatick,"  &c. 

Rheumatick,  in  the  cant  language  of  the  times,  signified  capri- 
cious, homoursome.  In  this  sense  it  appears  to  be  used  in  many 
other  old  plays.     Steevens. 

The  word  scorbutico  (as  an  ingenious  friend  observes  to  me)  is 
used  in  the  same  manner  in  Italian,  to  signify  a  peevish  ill-tem- 
pered man.     Malone. 

Dr.  Farmer  observes,  that  Sir  Thomas  Elyott,  in  his  Castell  of 
Helth,  1572,  speaking  of  different  complexions,  has  the  following 
remark :  "  Where  cold  with  moisture  prevaileth,  that  body  is 
ca\led  Jieumatick."     Steevens. 


76  SECOND  PART  OF  act  11. 

toasts 8 ;  you  cannot  one  bear  with  another's  con- 
firmities.  What  the  good-year9!  one  must  bear, 
and  that  must  be  you :  [To  Doll  J]  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  seen  a 
hulk  better  stuffed  in  the  hold. — Come,  I'll  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  Draxver. 

Draw.  Sir,  ancient  Pistol's1  below,  and  would 
speak  with  you. 

Dol.  Hang  him,  swaggering  rascal !  let  him  not 
come  hither  :  it  is  the  foul  mouth'dst  rogue  in  Eng- 
land. 

Host.  If  he  swagger,  let  him  not  come  here : 
no,  by  my  faith ;  I  must  live  amongst  my  neigh- 
bours ;  I'll  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  you,  pacify  yourself,  sir  John  ;  there 
comes  no  swaggerers  here  2. 

8  —  as  two  dry  toasts  ;]  Which  cannot  meet  but  they  grate 
one  another.     Johnson. 

9  —  good-year!]  Mrs.  Quickly's  blunder  for  goujere,  i.  e.  mor- 
bus Gallicus.     See  vol.  vii.  p.  29,  n.  3.     Steevens. 

1  —  ancient  Pistol  — ]  Is  the  same  as  ensign  Pistol.  Fal- 
staff  was  captain,  Peto  lieutenant,  and  Pistol  ensign,  or  ancient. 

Johnson. 

2  — there  comes  no  swaggerers  here.]  A  swaggerer  was  a 
roaring,  bullying,  blustering,  fighting Jellotu.  So,  in  Greene's  Tu 
Quoque,  a  comedy,  by  Cooke,  1614 :  **  I  will  game  with  a  gam- 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  IV.  77 

Fjl.  Dost  thou  hear  ?  it  is  mine  ancient. 

Host.  Tilly-fally a,  sir  John,  never  tell  me ;  your 
ancient  swaggerer  comes  not  in  my  doors.  I  was 
before  master  Tisick,  the  deputy,  the  other  day ; 
and,  as  he  said  to  me, — it  was  no  longer  ago  than 
Wednesday  last, — Neighbour  Quickly,  says  he  ; — 
master  Dumb,  our  minister,  was  by  then 4 ; — Neigh- 
bour Quickly ,  says  he,  receive  those  that  are  civil ; 
for,  saith  he,  you  are  in  an  ill  name  ; — now  he  said 
so,  I  can  tell  whereupon  ;  for,  says  he,  you  are  an 
honest  woman,  and  well  thought  on  ;  therefore  take 
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'll  no  swaggerers. 

Fal.  He's  no  swaggerer,  hostess;  a  tame  cheater5, 

ster,  drink  e  with  a  drunkard,  be  ciuill  with  a  citizen,  fight  with  a 
swaggerer,  and  drabb  with  a  whoore-master.     Ritson. 

3  Tilly-fally,]     See  vol.  xi.  p.  394-,  n.  7.     Malone. 

* —  Master  Tisick,  the  deputy — and  master  Dumb,  our  minister.] 
The  names  are  ludicrously  intended  to  denote  that  the  deputy  was- 
pursy  and  short  winded :  the  minister  one  of  those  who  did  not 
preach  sermons  of  his  own  composition,  but  only  read  the  homilies 
set  forth  by  authority : — such  clergymen  being  termed  by  the  pu- 
ritans, in  a  phrase  borrowed  from  the  prophet,  dumb  dogs :  it  was 
an  opprobrious  name  which  continued  as  late  as  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.  when  the  presbyterian  ministers  who  were  restored  by 
the  king,  and  did  not  dare  to  preach  "  to  the  times  ; "  i.  e.  to  in- 
troduce politicks  into  their  sermons,  were  called  dumb  dogs  that 
could  not  bark.     Burnet's  Own  Times,  v.  i.  p.  395.     Blakeway. 

5  —  a  tame  cheater,]  Gamester  and  cheater  were,  in  Shak- 
speare's  age,  synonymous  terms.  Ben  Jonson  has  an  epigram  on 
Captain  Hazard,  the  cheater. 

A  tame  cheater,  however,  as  Mr.  Whalley  observes  to  me,  ap- 
pears to  be  a  cant  phrase.  So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Fair 
Maid  of  the  Inn  : 

" and  will  be  drawn  into  the  net, 

"  By  this  decoy-duck,  this  tame  cheater." 

Greene,  in  his  Mihil  Mumchance,  has  the  following  passage: 
"  They  call  their  art  by  a  new-found  name,  as  cheating,  themselves 
cheators,  and  the  dice  chelers,  borrowing  the  term  from  among  our 
lawyers,  with  whom  all  such  casuals  as  fall  to  the  lord  at  the 


78  SECOND  PART  OF  act  u. 

he  ;  you  may  stroke  him  as  gently  as  a  puppy  grey- 
hound :  he  will  not  swagger  with  a  Barbary  hen,  if 
her  feathers  turn  back  in  any  show  of  resistance. — 
Call  him  up,  drawer. 

Host.  Cheater,  call  you  him  ?  I  will  bar  no  ho- 
nest man  my  house,  nor  no  cheater 5 :  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  'twere 
an  aspen  leaf:  I  cannot  abide  swaggerers. 

Enter  Pistol,  Bardolph,  and  Page. 
Pist.  'Save  you,  sir  John  ! 

holding  of  his  leets,  as  waifes,  straies,  and  such  like,  be  called 
chetes,  and  are  accustomably  said  to  be  escheted  to  the  lord's  use." 
So,  likewise  in  Lord  Coke's  Charge  at  Norwich,  1607  :  "  But  if 
you  will  be  content  to  let  the  escheator  alone,  and  not  looke  into 
his  actions,  he  will  be  contented  by  deceiving  you  to  change  his 
name,  taking  unto  himselfe  the  two  last  syllables  only,  with  the  es 
left  out,  and  so  turn  cheater."  Hence  perhaps  the  derivation  of 
the  verb — to  cheat,  which  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  met  with 
among  our  most  ancient  writers.  In  The  Bell-man  of  London,  by 
T.  Decker,  5th  edit.  1640,  the  same  derivation  of  the  word  is 
given  :  "  Of  all  which  lawes,  the  highest  in  place  is  the  cheating 
law,  or  the  art  of  winning  money  by  false  dyce.  Those  that  prac- 
tice this  study  call  themselves  cheaters,  the  dyce  cheators,  and  the 
money  which  they  purchase  cheate ;  borrowing  the  terme  from 
our  common  lawyers,  with  whom  all  such  casuals  as  fall  to  the 
lord  at  the  holding  of  his  leetes,  as  waifes,  straies,  and  such  like, 
are  said  to  be  escheated  to  the  lordes  use,  and  are  called  cheates." 
This  account  of  the  word  is  likewise  given  in  A  Manifest  Detec- 
tion of  Dice-play,  printed  by  Vele,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. 

Steevens. 
5  I  will  bar  no  honest  man  my  house,  nor  no  cheater  :]  The 
humour  of  this  consists  in  the  woman's  mistaking  the  title  of 
cheater,  (which  our  ancestors  gave  to  him  whom  we  now,  with 
better  manners,  call  a.  gamester,)  for  that  officer  of  the  exchequer 
called  an  escheator,  well  known  to  the  common  people  of  that 
time  ;  and  named,  either  corruptly  or  satirically,  a  cheater. 

Warburtont. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  79 

Fal.  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. 

Fal.  She  is  pistol- proof,  sir,  you  shall  hardly  of- 
fend her. 

Host.  Come,  111  drink  no  proofs,  nor  no  bulle  ts: 
111  drink  no  more  than  will  do  me  good,  for  no 
man's  pleasure,  I  °. 

Pist.  Then  to  you,  mistress  Dorothy;  I  will 
charge  you. 

Dol.  Charge  me  ?  I  scorn  you,  scurvy  compa- 
nion. What!  you  poor,  base,  rascally,  cheating, 
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 
bung 7,  away !  by  this  wine,  111  thrust  my  knife  in 

6  —  I'll  drink  no  more for  no  man's  pleasure,  I.]     This 

should  not  be  printed  as  a  broken  sentence.  The  duplication  of 
the  pronoun  was  very  common  :  in  The  London  Prodigal  we  have, 
"  I  scorn  service,  I." — "  I  am  an  ass,  I,"  says  the  stage-keeper 
in  the  Induction  to  Bartholomew  Fair :  and  Kendal  thus  trans- 
lates a  well-know  epigram  of  Martial : 

"  I  love  thee  not,  Sabidius, 
"  I  cannot  tell  thee  why  : 
"  I  can  saie  naught  but  this  alone, 
"  I  do  not  love  thee,  7." 
In  Kendall's  Collection  there  are  many  translations  from  Clau- 
dian,  Ausonius,  the  Anthologia,  &c.     Farmer. 
So,  in  King  Richard  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  II. : 

"  I  do  not  like  these  separate  councils,  7."     Steevens. 
Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  I  will  not  budge,  for  no  man's  pleasure,  7." 
Again,  in  King  Edward  II.  byMarlow,  1598  : 

"  I  am  none  of  those  common  peasants,  7." 
The  French  still  use  this  idiom  : — "  Je  suis  Parisien,  moi." 

Malone. 
P*  So  just  before  :  "  He's  no  swaggerer,  hostess  :  a  tame  cheater, 
he."     Boswell. 

7  —  filthy  bung,]     In  the  cant  of  thievery,  to  nip  a  bung  was 


80  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

your  mouldy  chaps,  an  you  play  the  saucy  cuttle 
with  me 8.  Away,  you  bottle-ale  rascal !  you  bas- 
ket-hilt stale  juggler,  you! — Since  when,  I  pray 
you,  sir  ? — What,  with  two  points  9  on  your  shoul- 
der ?  much 1 ! 

Pist.  I  will  murder  your  ruff  for  this. 

Fal.  No  more,  Pistol2;  I  would  not  have  you 
go  off  here :  discharge  yourself  of  our  company,  Pistol . 

Host.  No,  good  captain  Pistol ;  not  here,  sweet 
captain. 

Dol.  Captain!  thou  abominable  damned  cheater3, 

to  cut  a  purse;  and  among  an  explanation  of  many  of  these  terms 
in  Martin  Mark-all's  Apologie  to  the  Bel-man  of  London,  1610, 
it  is  said  that  "  Bung  is  now  used  for  a  pocket,  heretofore  for  a 
purse."     Steevens. 

8  — an  you  play  the  saucy  cuttle  with  me.]  It  appears  from 
Greene's  Art  of  Coneycatching,  that  cuttle  and  cuttle-boung  were 
the  cant  terms  for  the  knife  used  by  the  sharpers  of  that  age  to 
cut  the  bottoms  of  purses,  which  were  then  worn  hanging  at  the 
girdle.  Or  the  allusion  may  be  to  the  foul  language  thrown  out 
by  Pistol,  which  she  means  to  compare  with  such  filth  as  the 
cuttle-fish  ejects.     Steevens. 

9  —  with  two  points  — ]     As  a  mark  of  his  commission. 

Johnson. 

1  —  much  !]  Much  was  a  common  expression  of  disdain  at 
that  time,  of  the  same  sense  with  that  more  modern  one,  Marry 
come  up.  The  Oxford  editor,  not  apprehending  this,  alters  it  to 
march.     Warburton. 

Dr.  Warburton  is  right.  Much  !  is  used  thus  in  Ben  Jonson's 
Volpone : 

" But  you  shall  eat  it.     Much  !  " 

Again,  in  Every  Man  in  his  Humour : 

"  Much  wench  !  or  much,  son  !  " 
Again,  in  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour : 

"  To  charge  me  bring  my  grain  unto  the  markets  : 
"  Ay,  much  I  when  I  have  neither  barn  nor  garner." 

Steevens. 

2  No  more,  Pistol ;  &c]  This  is  from  the  oldest  edition  of 
1600.     Pope. 

3  Captain,  thou  abominable  damned  cheater,  &c]  Pistol's 
character  seems  to  have  been  a  common  one  on  the  stage  in  the 
time  of  Shakspeare.  In  A  Woman's  a  Weathercock,  by  N. 
Field,  }612,  there  is  a  personage  of  the  same  stamp,  who  is  thus 
described  : 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  81 

art  thou  not  ashamed  to  be  called — captain  ?  If 
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  4. 
A  captain  !  these  villains  will  make  the  word  cap- 
tain as  odious  as  the  word  occupy 5 ;  which  was  an 

"  Thou  unspeakable  rascal,  thou  a  soldier ! 

"  That  with  thy  slops  and  cat-a-mountain  face, 

"  Thy  blather  chaps,  and  thy  robustious  words, 

"  Fright'st  the  poor  whore,  and  terribly  dost  exact 

"  A  weekly  subsidy,  twelve  pence  a  piece, 

"  Whereon  thou  livest ;  and  on  my  conscience, 

"  Thou  snap'st  besides  with  cheats  and  cut-purses." 

Malone. 

4  He  lives  upon  mouldy  stewed  prunes,  and  dried  cakes.] 
That  is,  he  lives  on  the  refuse  provisions  of  bawdy-houses  and 
pastry-cooks'  shops.  Stewed  prunes,  when  mouldy,  were  perhaps 
formerly  sold  at  a  cheap  rate,  as  stale  pies  and  cakes  are  at  present. 
The  allusion  to  stewed  prunes,  and  all  that  is  necessary  to  be 
known  on  that  subject,  has  been  already  explained  in  the  First 
Part  of  this  historical  play.     Steevens. 

5  —  as  odious  as  the  word  occupy  ;]  So  Ben  Jonson,  in  his 
Discoveries :  "  Many,  out  of  their  own  obscene  apprehensions, 
refuse  proper  and  fit  words  ;  as,  occupy,  nature,"  &c. 

Steevens. 
This  word  is  used  with  different  senses  in  the  following  jest, 
from  Wits,  Fits,  and  Fancies,  1614:  "  One  threw  stones  at  an 
yll-fauor'd  old  womans  Owle,  and  the  olde  woman  said  :  Faith 
(sir  knaue)  you  are  well  occupy'd,  to  throw  stones  at  my  poore 
Owle,  that  doth  you  no  harme.  Yea  marie  (answered  the  wag) 
so  would  you  be  better  occupy 'd  too  (I  wisse)  if  you  were  young 
againe,  and  had  a  better  face."     Ritson. 

Occupant  seems  to  have  been  formerly  a  term  for  a  woman  of 
the  town,  as  occupier  was  for  a  wencher.  So,  in  Marston's 
Satires,  1599  : 

* He  with  his  occupant 

"  Are  cling'd  so  close,  like  dew- worms  in  the  morne, 
"  That  he'll  not  stir." 
Again,  in  a  Song  by  Sir  T.  Overbury,  1616 : 
■*  Here's  water  to  quench  maiden's  fires, 
"  Here's  spirits  for  old  occupiers."     Malone. 
Again,  in  Promos  and  Cassandra,  bl.  1.  1578  :  "  Mistresse,  you 
VOL.  XVII.  G 


82  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

excellent  good  word  before  it  was  ill  sorted  #  :  there- 
fore captains  had  need  look  to  it. 

Bard.  Pray  thee,  go  down,  good  ancient. 

Fal.  Hark  thee  hither,  mistress  Doll. 

Fist.  Not  I :  tell  thee  what,  corporal  Bardolph ; — 
I  could  tear  her : — I'll  be  revenged  on  her. 

Page.  Pray  thee  go  down. 

Pist.  I'll  see  her  damned  first; — to  Pluto's 
damned  lake,  to  the  infernal  deep,  with  Erebus  -f- 
and  tortures  vile  also  6.  Hold  hook  and  line 7,  say  I. 

*  Folio  reads  only,  will  make  the  word  captain  odious. 
f  Folio,  tvliere  Erebus. 

must  shut  up  your  shop,  and  leave  your  occupying."  This  is  said 
to  a  bawd.     Henderson. 

Barnabe  Rych,  in  his  Roome  for  a  Gentleman,  16'09,  complains 
of  "  a  number  of  counterfeit  souldiers  that  will  be  called  cap- 
taines  ;  "  and  says  of  them,  "  these  be  they  that  are  a  slander  and 
disgrace  to  the  Art  Militari ;  for  there  is  no  greater  incivility,  no 
baser  disorder,  nor  more  shamefull  misdemeanor,  than  is  used  by 
those  counterfeit  souldiers  that  do  march  under  the  title  of  cap- 
taines."     Boswell. 

6  I'll  see  her  damned  first ; — to  Pluto's  damned  lake,  to  the 
infernal  deep,  with  Erebus  and  tortures  vile  also.]  These 
words,  I  believe,  were  intended  to  allude  to  the  following  passage 
in  an  old  play  called  the  Battel  of  Alcazar,  1594,  from  which 
Pistol  afterwards  quotes  a  line  (see  p.  87,  n.  6)  : 

"  You  dastards  of  the  night  and  Erebus, 

"  Fiends,  fairies,  hags,  that  fight  in  beds  of  steel, 

"  Range  through  this  army  with  your  iron  whips ; — 

"  Descend  and  take  to  thy  tormenting  hell 

"  The  mangled  body  of  that  traitor  king. — 

"  Then  let  the  earth  discover  to  his  ghost 

"  Such  tortures  as  usurpers  feel  below.— 

"  Damn'd  let  him  be,  damn'd  and  condemn'd  to  bear 

*'  All  torments,  tortures,  pains  and  plagues  of  hell." 

Malone. 

7  Hold  hook  and  line,]  These  words  are  introduced  in  ridi- 
cule, by  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Case  is  Alter'd,  1609.  Of  absurd 
and  fustian  passages  from  many  plays,  in  which  Shakspeare  had 
been  a  performer,  I  have  always  supposed  no  small  part  of 
Pistol's  character  to  be  composed :  and  the  pieces  themselves 
being  now  irretrievably  lost,  the  humour  of  his  allusion  is  not  a 
little  obscured. 

Let  me  add,  however,  that  in  the  frontispiece  to  an  ancient 
bl.  1.  ballad,  entitled  The  Royal  Recreation  of  Joviall  Anglers, 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  83 

Down  !    down,  dogs  !    down  faitors  *  8 !  Have  we 
not  Hiren  here 9  ? 

*  Folio,  fates. 

one  of  the  figures  has  the  following  couplet  proceeding  from  his 
mouth  : 

"  Hold  hooke  and  line, 
"  Then  all  is  mine."     Steevens. 
In  Tusser's  Husbandry,  bl.  1.  1580,  it  is  said  : 
"  At  noone  if  it  bloweth,  at  night  if  it  shine, 
"  Out  trudgeth  Hew  Makeshift,  with  hook  and with  line" 

Henderson. 

8  Down !  down,  dogs !  down  faitors  !]  A  burlesque  on  a 
play  already  quoted  ;  The  Battle  of  Alcazar  : 

"  Ye  proud  malicious  dogs  of  Italy, 

"  Strike  on,  strike  down,  this  body  to  the  earth."  Malone. 
Faitours,  says  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  is  a  corruption  of  the 
French  word  faiseurs,  i.  e.factores,  doers  ;  and  it  is  used  in  the 
statute  7  Rich.  II.  c.  5,  for  evil  doers,  or  rather  for  idle  livers  ;  from 
the  French,  failard.  which  in  Cotgrave's  Dictionary  signifies 
slothful,  idle,  &c.     Tollet. 

"  —  downfaitors .' "     i.  e.  traitors,  rascals.     So,  Spenser  : 
"  Into  new  woes,  unweeting,  was  I  cast 
"  By  this  fake  fait  our." 
The  word  often  occurs  in  The  Chester  Mysteries.     Steevens. 

9  —  Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ?]  In  an  old  comedy,  1608,  called 
Law  Tricks  ;  or,  Who  Would  Have  Thought  It  ?  the  same  quota- 
tion is  likewise  introduced,  and  on  a  similar  occasion.  The  Prince 
Polymetes  says : 

"  What  ominous  news  can  Polymetes  daunt  ? 
"  Have  we  not  Hiren  here?" 
Again,  in  Massinger's  Old  Law : 

"  Clown.  No  dancing  for  me,  we  have  Siren  here. 
"  Cook.  Syren  !  'twas  Hiren  the  fair  Greek,  man." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix  :  '*  —  therefore  whilst  we  have 
Hiren  here,  speak  my  little  dish-washers." 

Again,  in  Love's  Mistress,  a  masque,  by  T.  Heywood,  1636: 
"  —  say  she  is  a  foul  beast  in  your  eyes,  yet  she  is  my  Hyren." 

Mr.  Tollet  observes,  that  in  Adams's  Spiritual  Navigator,  &c. 
1615,  there  is  the  following  passage  :  "There  be  sirens  in  the 
sea  of  the  world.  Sirens  ?  Hirens  as  they  are  now  called.  What 
a  number  of  these  sirens,  Hirens,  cockatrices,  courteghians, — in 
plain  English,  harlots, — swimme  amongst  us?" — Pistol  may 
therefore  mean, — Have  we  not  a  strumpet  here  ?  and  why  am  I 
thus  used  by  her  ?     Steevens. 

From  The  Merie  Conceited  Jests  of  George  Peele,  Gentleman, 
sometime  Student  in  Oxford,  quarto  1657,  it  appears  that  Peele 

G    2 


84  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ji. 

Host.  Good  captain  Peesel,  be  quiet ;  it  is  very 
late,  i'  faith :  I  beseek  you  now,  aggravate  your 
choler. 


was  the  author  of  a  play  called  The  Turkish  Mahomet,  and  Hyren 
the  Fair  Greek,  which  is  now  lost.  One  of  these  jests,  or  rather 
stories,  is  entitled,  How  George  read  a  Play-book  to  a  Gentleman. 
"  There  was  a  gentleman  (says  the  tale)  whom  God  had  endued 
with  good  living,  to  maintain  his  small  wit, — one  that  took  great 
delight  to  have  the  first  hearing  of  any  work  that  George  had 
done,  himself  being  a  writer. — This  self-conceited  brock  had 
George  invited  to  half  a  score  sheets  of  paper ;  whose  Christianly 
pen  had  tvrit  Finis  to  the  famous  play  of  The  Turkish  Mahomet 
arid  Hyren  the  fair  Greek  ; — in  Italian  called  a  curtezan ;  in 
Spaine,  a  margarite ;  in  French,  un  curtain  ;  in  English,  among 
the  barbarous,  a  whore ;  among  the  gentles,  their  usual  asso- 
ciates, a  punk. — This  fantastick,  whose  brain  was  made  of  nought 
but  cork  and  spunge,  came  to  the  cold  lodging  of  Monsieur 
Peel. — George  bids  him  welcome  ; — told  him  he  would  gladly 
have  his  opinion  of  his  book. — He  willingly  condescended,  and 
George  begins  to  read,  and  between  every  scene  he  would  make 
pauses,  and  demand  his  opinion  how  he  liked  the  carriage  of  it," 
&c. 

"  Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ?  "  was,  without  doubt,  a  quotation 
from  this  play  of  Peele's,  and,  from  the  explanation  of  the  word 
Hiren  above  given,  is  put  with  peculiar  propriety  on  the  present 
occasion  into  the  mouth  of  Pistol.  In  Eastward  Hoe,  a  comedy,  by 
Jonson,  Chapman,  and  Marston,  1605,  Quicksilver  comes  in 
drunk,  and  repeats  this,  and  many  other  verses,  from  dramatick 
performances  of  that  time  : 

"  Holla,  ye  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia !  "     [Tamburlaine^] 

**  Hast  thou  not  Hiren  here  ?  " 

[Probably  The  Turkish  Mahomet.] 

"  Who  cries  on  murther  ?  lady,  was  it  you  ?" 

[A  Parody  on  The  Spanish  Tragedy, ,] 

All  these  lines  are  printed  as  quotations,  in  Italicks.     In  John 

Day's  Law  Tricks,  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens,  in  the  preceding  note, 

the  Prince  Polymetes,  when  he  says,  "Have  we  not  Hiren  here?" 

alludes  to  a  lady  then  present,  whom  he  imagines  to  be  a  harlot. 

Malone. 
The  notes  on  this  expression  have  left  it  a  matter  of  doubt  whe- 
ther Pistol  is  speaking  of  his  sword  or  of  a  woman  ;  but  the  fact 
is,  after  all,  that  the  word  Hiren  was  purposely  designed  by  the 
author  to  be  ambiguous,  though  used  by  Pistol  with  reference 
only  to  his  sword.  When  the  Hostess  replies,  "  There's  none 
such  here,  do  you  think  I  would  deny  her?"  she  evidently  con- 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  85 

Fist.  These  be  good  humours,  indeed  !    Shall 
packhorses, 
And  hollow  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia  \ 

ceives  that  he  is  calling  for  some  wench.  Pistol,  not  regarding 
her  blunder,  continues  to  handle  his  sword,  and  in  his  next  speech 
reads  the  motto  on  it — si  fortuna  me  tormenta,  sperato  me  con- 
tenta.  It  is  to  be  observed  that  most  of  the  ancient  swords  had  in- 
scriptions on  them,  and  there  is.no  doubt  that  if  diligent  search 
were  made,  the  one  before  us,  in  a  less  corrupted  state,  would  be 
found.     Douce. 

Mr.  Douce  adds,  that  he  is  possessed  of  an  old  French  rapier, 
on  which  these  lines  are  engraved  :  "  Si  Fortune  me  tourmente, 
l'esperance  me  contente."  A  representation  of  it  is  given  in 
his  Illustrations,  vol.  i.  p.  453.     Boswell. 

1  —  hollow  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia,  &c]  These  lines  are  in 
part  a  quotation  out  of  an  old  absurd  fustian  play,  entitled,  Tam- 
burlaine's  Conquests;  or,  The  Scythian  Shepherds,  1590,  [byC. 
Marlow.]     Theobald. 

These  lines  are  addressed  by  Tamburlaine  to  the  captive  princes 
who  draw  his  chariot : 

"  Holla,  you  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia, 
'*  What !  can  you  draw  but  twenty  miles  a  day  ?  " 
The  same  passage  is  burlesqued  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  in 
The  Coxcomb.     Young,  however,  has  borrowed  the  idea  for  the 
use  of  his  Busiris  : 

"'  Have  we  not  seen  him  shake  his  silver  reins 
"  O'er  harness'd  monarchs,  to  his  chariot  yok'd  ?  " 
I  was  surprised  to  find  a  simile,  much  and  justly  celebrated  by 
the  admirers  of  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  inserted  almost  word  for 
word  in  the  second  part  of  this  tragedy.  The  earliest,  edition  of 
those  books  of  The  Fairy  Queen,  in  one  of  which  it  is  to  be  found, 
was  published  in  1590,  and  Tamburlaine  had  been  represented  in 
or  before  the  year  1583,  as  appears  from  the  preface  to  Perimedes 
the  Blacksmith,  by  Robert  Greene.  The  first  copy,  however, 
that  I  have  met  with,  is  in  1590,  and  the  next  in  1593.  In  the 
vear  1590  both  parts  of  it  were  entered  on  the  books  of  the  Sta- 
tioners' Company : 

"  Like  to  an  almond-tree  ymounted  high 

"  On  top  of  green  Selinis,  all  alone, 

"  With  blossoms  brave  bedecked  daintily, 

"  Whose  tender  locks  do  tremble  every  one 

"  At  every  little  breath  that  under  heaven  is  blown." 

Spenser. 
"  Like  to  an  almond-tree  ymounted  high 
"  Upon  the  lofty  and  celestial  mount 
"  Of  ever-green  Selinis,  quaintly  deck'd 


86  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

Which  cannot  go  but  thirty  miles  a  day, 
Compare  with  Caesars,  and  with  Cannibals^, 
And  Trojan  Greeks  ?  nay,  rather  damn  them  with 
King  Cerberus ;  and  let  the  welkin  roar3. 
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  dogs4;  give  crowns  like 
pins ;  Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ? 

Host.  O'  my  word,  captain,  there's  none  such 

"  With  bloom  more  bright  than  Erycina's  brows ; 
"  Whose  tender  blossoms  tremble  every  one 
"  At  every  little  breath  from  heaven  is  blown." 

Tamburlaine. 
Steevens. 
Mr.  Todd  has,  with  great  probability,  maintained  that  Spenser 
was  the  original.     See  his  edition  of  Spenser,  vol.  iii.  p.  22. 

BoSWELl. 

2  — Cannibals,]  Cannibal  is  used  by  a  blunder  for  Hannibal. 
This  was  afterwards  copied  by  Congreve's  Bluff  and  Wittol. 
Bluff  is  a  character  apparently  taken  from  this  of  ancient  Pistol. 

Johnson. 
Perhaps  the  character  of  a  bully  on  the  English  stage  might 
have  been  originally  taken  from  Pistol ;  but  Congreve  seems  to 
have  copied  his  Nol  Bluff  more  immediately  from  Jonson's  Cap- 
tain Bobadil.     Steevens. 

3  — and  let  the  welkin  roar.]  Part  of  the  words  of  an  old  bal- 
lad entitled,  What  the  Father  Gathereth  with  the  Rake,  the 
Son  doth  Scatter  with  the  Forke  : 

"  Let  the  welkin  roare, 
"  He  never  give  ore,"  &c. 
Again,  in  another  ancient  song,  called  The  Man  in  the  Moon 
drinks  Claret : 

"  Drink  wine  till  the  welkin  roares."     Steevens. 
So,  in  Eastward  Hoe.  1605  :  "  —  turn  swaggering  gallant,  and 
let  the  welkin  roar,  and  Erebus  also."     Malone. 

4  Die  men,  like  dogs  ;]  This  expression  I  find  in  Ram-Alley, 
or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

"  Your  lieutenant's  an  ass. 

"  How  an  ass  ?  Die  men  like  dogs  ?  "     Steevens. 


sc.  if.  KING  HENRY  IV.  87 

here5.  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  6 : 
Come,  give's  some  sack. 

5  —  Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ? 

Host.  O'  my  word,  captain,  there's  none  such  here.]  i.  e. 
shall  I  fear,  that  have  this  trusty  and  invincible  sword  by  my  side? 
For,  as  King  Arthur's  swords  were  called  Caliburne  and  Ron  ;  as 
Edward  the  Confessor's,  Curtana;  as  Charlemagne's,  Joyeuse ; 
Orlando's,  Durindana  ;  Rinaldo's,  Fusberta ;  and  Rogero's,  Bali- 
sarda;  so  Pistol,  in  imitation  of  these  heroes,  calls  his  sword 
Hiren,  I  have  been  told,  Amadis  de  Gaul  had  a  sword  of  this 
name.  Hirir  is  to  strike,  and  from  hence  it  seems  probable  that 
Hiren  may  be  derived  ;  and  so  signify  a  swashing,  cutting  sword. 
—But  what  wonderful  humour  is  there  in  the  good  Hostess  so  in- 
nocently mistaking  Pistol's  drift,  fancying  that  he  meant  to  fight 
for  a  whore  in  the  house,  and  therefore  telling  him,  "  O'  my  word, 
captain,  there's  none  such  here ;  what  the  good-year !  do  you 
think,  I  would  deny  her  ?"     Theoeald. 

As  it  appears  from  a  former  note,  that  Hiren  was  sometimes  a 
cant  term  for  a  mistress  or  harlot,  Pistol  may  be  supposed  ta  give 
it  on  this  occasion,  as  an  endearing  name,  to  his  sword,  in  the 
same  spirit  of  fondness  that  he  presently  calls  it — sweetheart. 

Steevens. 

I  see  no  ground  for  supposing  that  the  words  bear  a  different 
meaning  here  from  what  they  did  in  a  former  passage.  He  is 
still,  I  think,  merely  quoting  the  same  play  he  had  quoted  before. 

Malone. 

" — Have  we  not  Hiren  here?"  I  know  not  whence  Shake- 
speare derived  this  allusion  to  Arthur's  lance,  "  Aecinctus  etiam 
Caliburno  gladio  optimo,  lancea  nomine  iron,  dexteram  suam  de^ 
coravit."     M.  Westmonasteriensis,  p.  98.     Bowle. 

Geoffery  of  Monmouth,  p.  65,  reads  Ron  instead  of  Iron. 

Steevens. 

6  —  feed,  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis  :]  This  is  a  burlesque 
on  a  line  in  an  old  play  called  The  Battel  of  Alcazar,  &c.  printed 
in  1594,  in  which  Muley  Mahomet  enters  to  his  wife  with  lion's 
flesh  on  his  sword : 

"  Feed  then,  and  faint  not,  my  faire  Calypolis." 
And  again,  in  the  same  play : 

M  Hold  thee  Calipolis  ;  feed,  and  faint  no  more." 
And  again  : 

"  Feed  and  be  fat,  that  we  may  meet  the  toe, 

"  With  strength  and  terrour  to  revenge  our  wrong." 


88  SECOND  PART  OF  aVt  ji. 

Si  for  tuna  me  torment  a,  sperato  me  con  tent  a7. — 
Fear  we  broadsides  ?  no,  let  the  fiend  give  fire  : 
Give  me  some  sack;  and,  sweetheart,  lie  thou  there. 

[Laying  doxvn  his  sword. 
Come  we  to  full  points  here 8 :  and  are  et  cet era's 
nothing  ? 
Fal.  Pistol,  I  would  be  quiet. 
Pist.  Sweet  knight,  I  kiss  thy  neif9:  What!  we 
have  seen  the  seven  stars. 

The  line  is  quoted  in  several  of  the  old  plays  ;  and  Decker,  in 
his  Satiromastix,  1602,  has  introduced  Shakspeare's  burlesque  of 
it :  "  Feed  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis ;  stir  not  my  beauteous 
wriggle-tails."     Steevens, 

It  is  likewise  quoted  by  Marston,  in  his  What  You  Will,  1607, 
as  it  stands  in  Shakspeare.     Malone. 

1  Si  fortuna  me  tormenta,  sperato  me  contenta. ~\  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer  reads  : 

Si  fortuna  me  tormenta,  il  sperare  me  contenta — . 
Which  is  undoubtedly  the  true  reading;  but  perhaps  it  was  in- 
tended that  Pistol  should  corrupt  it.     Johnson. 

Pistol  is  only  a  copy  of  Hannibal  Gonsaga,  who  vaunted  on 
yielding  himself  a  prisoner,  as  you  may  read  in  an  old  collection 
of  tales,  called  Wits,  Fits,  and  Fancies : 

Si  fortuna  me  tormenta, 
II  speranza  me  contenta. 
And  Sir  Richard  Hawkins,   in  his  Voyage  to  the  South -Sea, 
1593,  throws  out  the  same  gingling  distich  on  the  loss  of  his  pin- 
nace.    Farmer. 

8  Come  we  to  full  points  here  ;  &c]  That  is,  shall  we  stop 
here,  shall  we  have  no  further  entertainment?     Johnson. 

9  Sweet  knight,  I  kiss  thy  neif  :]  i.  e.  kiss  thy  fist.  Mr. 
Pope  will  have  it,  that  neif  here  is  from  nativa  ;  i.  e.  a  woman - 
slave  that  is  born  in  one's  house ;  and  that  Pistol  would  kiss  Fal- 
staff's  domestick  mistress,  Doll  Tear-sheet.     Theobald. 

Nief,  neif,  m&naif,  are  certainly  law-terms  for  a  woman-slave. 
So,  in  Thoroton's  Antiquities  of  Nottinghamshire  :   "  Every  naif 
or  she-villain,  that  took  a  husband  or  committed  fornication,  paid 
marchet  for  redemption  of  her  blood  5s.  and  4d. 
Again,  in  Stanyhurst's  Virgil,  1582: 

Mejamulam  famuloque  Heleno  transmisit  habendum. 
"  Me  his  nyefe  to  his  servaunt  Helenus  full  firmelye  be- 
troathed." 
But  I  believe  neif  in  used  by  Shakspeare  for  Jist.     It  is  still  em- 


m  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  89 

Dol.  Thrust  him  down  stairs  ;  I  cannot  endure 
such  a  fustian  rascal. 

Pist.  Thrust  him  down  stairs!  know  we  not 
Galloway  nags l  ? 

Ial,  Quoit  him  down,  Bardolph,  like  a  shove- 
groat  shilling ' :  nay,  if  he  do  nothing  but  speak 
nothing,  he  shall  be  nothing  here. 


ployed  in  that  sense  in  the  northern  counties,  and  by  Ben  Jonson, 
in  his  Poetaster: 

"  Reach  me  thy  neif." 

Again,  in  The  Witch  of  Edmonton,  by  Rowley,  &c.  1658  : 
"  Oh,  sweet  ningle,  thy  neif once  again."     Steevens. 

So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream :  "  Give  me  thy  neift 
Monsieur  Mustard-Seed."     Malone. 

1 — Galloway  nags  ?]     That  is,  common  hacknies.    Johnson. 

2  — like  a  shove-groat  shilling  :]  This  expression  occurs  in 
Every  Man  in  his  Humour  :  "  —  made  it  run  as  smooth  oft*  the 
tongue  as  a  shove-groat  shilling" 

Again,  in  Humour's  Ordinary,  by  Samuel  Rowlands,  Satire  iv. : 
"  At  shove-groat,  venter-point,  or  crosse  and  pile." 

I  suppose  it  to  have  been  a  piece  of  polished  metal  made  use  of 
in  the  play  of  shovel-board.     See  vol.  iv.  p.  21,  n.  2.  Steevens. 

Mr.  Steevens  supposes  the  shove-groat  shilling  to  have  been 
used  in  the  game  of  shovel-board,  by  which  he  seems  to  infer  that 
the  games  of  shove-groat  and  shovel-board  were  the  same ;  but 
this  is  apparently  a  mistake.  The  former  was  invented  during  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  for  in  the  statutes  of  his  33d  year, 
chap.  ix.  it  is  called  a  new  game.  It  was  also  known  by  the  seve- 
ral appellations  of  slide-groat,  slide-board,  slide-thrift,  and  slip- 
thrift,  the  first  of  which  was  probably  adopted  from  the  game  being 
originally  played  with  the  silver  groats  of  the  time,  then  nearly  as 
large  as  modern  shillings.  When  the  broad  shillings  of  Edward 
the  Sixth  were  coined,  they  were  substituted  for  the  groats  in  this 
game,  and  used  also  at  that  of  shovel-board,  which  seems  to  have 
been  only  a  variation  of  the  other  on  a  larger  scale.  Nothing  has 
occurred  to  carry  it  beyond  the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  and 
from  the  want  of  such  a  term  as  a  shovel-groat,  it  is  probably  not 
older  than  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  who  first  coined  the 
shilling  piece.  Shovel-board  is  already  too  well  known  to  require 
any  description  of  it  in  this  place  ;  but  of  the  other  little  seems 
recorded,  or  not  sufficient  to  discover  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
played.  Holinshed,  or  rather  Stanihurst,  in  his  History  of  Ire- 
land, speaking  of  a  mandate  for  the  execution  of  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
dare  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  says,  that  "  one  night  when 


90  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

Bard.  Come,  get  you  down  stairs. 

Fist.  What !  shall  we  have  incision  ?  shall  we 

imbrue  ? [Snatching  up  his  sword. 

Then  death  rock  me  asleep 3,  abridge  my  doleful 

days ! 
Why  then,  let  grievous,  ghastly,  gaping  wounds 
Untwine  the  sisters  three  !  Come,  Atropos,  I  say 4 ! 


the  lieutenant  and  he  for  their  disport  were  playing  at  slidegrote  or 
shofleboorde,  sodainly  commeth  from  the  Cardinall  (Wolsey)  a 
mandatum  to  execute  Kyldare  on  the  morrow.  The  earle  mark- 
ing the  lieutenant's  deepe  sigh,  By  S.  Bryde,  Lieutenant,  quoth 
he,  there  is  some  made  game  in  that  scrole ;  hut  fall  how  it  will, 
this  throive  is  for  a  huddle."  Here  the  writer  has  either  con- 
founded the  two  games,  or  might  only  mean  to  state  that  the 
Earl  was  playing  at  one  or  the  other  of  them.  Rice  the  puritan, 
in  his  Invective  Againt  Vices,  black  letter,  no  date,  12mo.  speaks 
of  "paysed  [weighed]  groates  to  plaie  at  slip-thrifte ;  "  and  in 
another  place  he  asks  whether  God  sent  Adam  into  Paradise  to 
play  at  it.  There  is  a  modern  game  called  Justice,  Jervis  which  is 
supposed  by  Mr.  Strutt,  who  has  described  it  at  large,  to  bear 
some  resemblance  to  shove-groat.  See  his  Sports  and  Pastimes, 
p.  225,     Douce. 

Slide-thrift,  or  shove-groat,  is  one  of  the  games  prohibited  by 
statute  33  Henry  VIII.  c.  9.     Blackstone. 

3  Then  death  rock  me  asleep,]  This  is  a  fragment  of  an  ancient 
song  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  Anne  Boleyn  : 

"  O  death  rock  me  on  slepe, 
"  Bring  me  on  quiet  rest,"  &c. 
For  the  entire  song,  see  Sir  John  Hawkin's  General  History  of 
Musick,  vo).  iii.  p.  31.     Steevens. 

In  Arnold  Cosbie's  Ultimum  Vale  to  the  Vaine  World,  an  elegie 
written  by  himselfe  in  the  Marshalsea,  after  his  condemnation,  for 
murthering  Lord  Brooke,  4to.  1591,  are  these  lines  : 
"  O  death,  rock  me  asleepe  !  Father  of  heaven, 
"  That  hast  sole  power  to  pardon  sinnes  of  men, 
"  Forgive  the  faults  and  follies  of  my  youth."     Reed. 

4  —  Come,  Atropos,  I  say !]  It  has  been  suggested  that  this 
is  a  name  which  Pistol  gives  to  his  sword  ;  but  surely  he  means  no- 
thing more  than  to  call  on  one  of  the  sisters  three  to  aid  him  in  the 
fray.     Mai.  one. 

Perhaps  Pistol  alludes  to  a  poem  printed  in  A  Gorgious  Gallery 
of  Gallant  Inuentions,  &c.  4to.  1578  :  "  The  Louer  complayneth 
of  his  Ladie's  Inconstancy,"  to  the  tune  of  '  I  lothe  that  I  did 
loue  :* 


sc.  m  KING  HENRY  IV.  91 

Host.  Here's  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. 

[Drawing,  and  driving  Pistol  out. 

Host.  Here's  a  goodly  tumult !  I'll  forswear 
keeping  house,    afore   I'll  be  in   these  tirrits  and 

frights.      So ;   murder,    I  warrant  now. Alas, 

alas!  put   up   your  naked   weapons,  put  up  your 
naked  weapons.       [Exeunt  Pistol  and  Bardolph. 

Dol.  I  pray  thee,  Jack,  be  quiet ;  the  rascal  is 
gone.     Ah,  you  whoreson  little  valiant  villain,  you. 

Host.  Are  you  not  hurt  i'  the  groin 3  ?  methought 
he  made  a  shrewd  thrust  at  your  belly. 

Re-enter  Bardolph. 

Fal.  Have  you  turned  him  out  of  doors  ? 

Bard.  Yes,  sir.  The  rascal's  drunk :  you  have 
hurt  him,  sir,  in  the  shoulder. 

Fal.  A  rascal !  to  brave  me  ! 

Dol.  Ah,  you  sweet  little  rogue,  you!  Alas, 
poor  ape,  how  thou  sweat'st !  Come,  let  me  wipe 
thy  face  ; — come  on,  you  whoreson  chops  : — Ah, 
rogue  !  i  faith,  1  love  thee.  Thou  art  as  valourous 
as  Hector  of  Troy,  worth  five  of  Agamemnon,  and 
ten  times  better  than  the  nine  worthies.  Ah,  vil- 
lain6! 

"  I  hate  this  lothsome  life, 

"  O  Atropos  dravo  nie, 
"  Untwist  ye  thred  of  mortall  strife, 

"  Send  death,  and  let  mee  die."     Steevens. 

5  Are  you  not  hurt  i'  the  groin  ?]  Falstaff  had  promised  to 
marry  Mrs.  Quickly,  who,  on  this  occasion,  appears  to  have  had 
the  widow  Wadman's  solicitudes  ahout  her.     Steevens. 

6  —  Ah,  villain  !]  Thus  the  folio  :  the  quarto  reads — a  villain  ; 
which  I  once  thought  might  be  right,  and  that  she  meant  Pistol. 
But  I  have  observed  that  a  is  frequently  printed  in  the  quarto 
copies  for  ah  :  the  reading  of  the  folio  is  therefore  certainly  right. 

Malone. 


92  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Fal.  A  rascally  slave !  I  will  toss  the  rogue  in  a 
blanket. 

Dol.  Do,  if  thou  darest  for  thy  heart :  if  thou 
dost,  I'll  canvas  thee  between  a  pair  of  sheets7. 

Enter  Musick. 

Page.  The  musick  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 
church.  Thou  whoreson  little  tidy  Bartholomew 
boar-pig 8,  when  wilt  thou  leave  fighting  o'  days, 

7  —  I'll  canvas  thee  between  a  pair  of  sheets.]  This  phrase 
occurs  in  the  12th  Mery  Ieste  of  the  Widow  Edyth,  1573  : 

"  Hore,  hore,  by  coks  blood  euen  here, 

"  Sayd  Cotes,  and  it  were  not  for  shame, 

"  1  should  canvas  thee,  and  make  thee  lame."    Steevens. 

Doll's  meaning  here  is  sufficiently  clear.     There  is  however  an 

allusion  which  might  easily  escape  notice,  to  the  material  of  which 

coarse  sheets  were  formerly  made.     So,  in  the  MS.  Account-book 

of  Mr.  Philip  Henslow,  which  has  been  already  quoted  :  "  7  Maye, 

1594'.     Lent  goody  Nalle  upon  a  payre  of  canvas  sheates,  for  v  s." 

Malone. 

8  —  little  tidy  Bartholomew  boar  pig,]  For  tidy,  Sir  T. 
Han mer  reads  tiny;  but  they  are  both  words  of  endearment, 
and  equally  proper.  Bartholomew  boar-pig  is  a  little  pig  made  of 
paste,  sold  at  Bartholomew  fair,  and  given  to  children  for  a  fair- 
ing.    Johnson. 

Tidy  has  two  significations,  timely  and  neat.  In  the  first  of 
these  senses,  I  believe,  it  is  used  in  The  Arraignment  of  Paris, 
1584: 

"  I  myself  have  given  good,  tidie  lambs."     Steevens. 

From  Ben  Jonson's  play  of  Bartholomew  Fair,  we  learn,  that 
it  was  the  custom  formerly  to  have  booths  in  Bartholomew  Fair, 
in  which  pigs  were  dressed  and  sold,  and  to  these  it  is  probable 
the  allusion  is  here,  and  not  to  the  pigs  of  paste  mentioned  by  Dr. 
Johnson. 

The  practice  of  roasting  pigs  at  Bartholomew  Fair  continued 
until  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  if  not  later.  It  is  men- 
tioned in  Ned  Ward's  London  Spy,  1697.  When  about  the  year 
1708  some  attempts  were  made  to  limit  the  duration  of  the  fair  to 
three  days,  a  poem  was  published   entitled  The  Pig's   Petition 


sc.  if.  KING  HENRY  IV.  93 

and  foining  o'  nights,  and  begin  to  patch  up  thine 
old  body  for  heaven  ? 

Enter  behind,  Prince  Henry  and  Poijvs,  disguised 
like  Drawers, 
Fal.  Peace,  good  Doll !  do   not  speak   like  a 
death's  head 9 :  do  not  bid  me  remember  mine  end. 

against  Bartholomew  Fair,  &c.     See  Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old 
Plays,  1780,  vol.  xii.  p.  419. 

Tidy,  I  apprehend,  means  oxi\y  fat,  and  in  that  sense  it  was  cer- 
tainly sometimes  used.  See  an  old  translation  of  Galateo  of  Man- 
ners and  Behaviour,  bl.  1.  1578,  p.  77  :  "  and  it  is  more  proper 
and  peculiar  speache  to  say,  the  shivering  of  an  ague,  than  to  call 
it  the  colde ;  and  flesh  that  is  tidie  to  terme  it  xoXhtrfat  than  ful- 
some."    Reed. 

Again,  in  Gawin  Douglas's  translation  of  the  5th  iEneid : 
"  And  als  mony  swine  and  tydy  qwyis."     Steevens. 
See  also  D'Avenant's  burlesque  Verses  on  a  long  Vacation, 
written  about  1630 : 

"  Now  London's  chief  on  saddle  new 
"  Rides  into  fair  of  Barthol'mew  ; 
"  He  twirls  his  chain,  and  looking  big 
"  As  if  to  fright  the  head  of  pig, 
"  That  gaping  lies  on  greasy  stall, 
"  Till  female  with  great  belly  call,"  &c. 
Coles,  whose  Dictionary  explains  many  of  Shakspeare's  words, 
interprets  tidy  by  dapper,  habilis,  agilis  ;  for  dapper,  he  gives  us 
homunculus  agilis,  animosus.     And  this  I  believe  is  the  meaning 
here.     Doll  meant  to  praise  Falstaff's  nimbleness  and  agility  in 
fighting  o'  days  and  foining  o'  nights.     Malone. 

9  — like  a  death's  head;]  It  appears  from  the  following 
passage  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtezan,  1605,  that  it  was  the 
custom  for  the  bawds  of  that  age  to  wear  a  death's  head  in  a 
ring,  very  probably  with  the  common  motto,  memento  mori. 
Cocledemoy,  speaking  of  some  of  these,  says  t  "  —  as  for  their 
death,  how  can  it  be  bad,  since  their  wickedness  is  always  before 
their  eyes,  and  a  death's  head  most  commonly  on  their  middle 
finger." 

Again,  in  Massinger's  Old  Law  :  "  — sell  some  of  my  cloaths 
to  buy  thee  a  death's  head,  and  put  it  upon  thy  middle  finger  : 
your  least  considering  bawds  do  so  much." 

Again,  in  Northward  Hoe,  1607  :  "  — as  if  I  were  a  baxvd,  no 
ring  pleases  me  but  a  death's  head." 

On  the  Stationers'  books,  Feb.  21,  1582,  is  entered  a  ballad 
intitled  Remember  thy  End.     Steevens. 


94  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Dol.  Sirrah,  what  humour  is  the  prince  of? 

Fal.  A  good  shallow  young  fellow:  he  would 
have  made  a  good  pantler,  he  would  have  chipped 
bread  well. 

Dol.  They  say,  Poins  has  a  good  wit. 

Fal.  He  a  good  wit?  hang  him,  baboon!  his 
wit  is  as  thick  as  Tewksbury  mustard l ;  there  is  no 
more  conceit  in  him,  than  is  in  a  mallet 2. 

Dol.  Why  does  the  prince  love  him  so  then  ? 

Fal.  Because  their  legs  are  both  of  a  bigness ; 
and  he  plays  at  quoits  well ;  and  eats  conger  and 
fennel ;  and  drinks  off  candles'  ends  for  flap-dra- 
gons 3 ;  and  rides  the  wild  mare  with  the  boys  4 ; 


Falstaff's  allusion,  I  should  have  supposed,  was  to  the  death's 
head,  and  motto  on  hatchments,  grave-stones,  and  the  like. — 
Such  a  ring,  however,  as  Mr.  Steevens  describes,  but  without 
any  inscription,  being  only  brass,  is  in  my  possession.     Ritson. 

1  Tewksbury  mustard :]  Tewksbury  is  a  market  town  in  the 
county  of  Gloucester,  formerly  noted  for  mustard-balls  made 
there,  and  sent  into  other  parts.     Grey. 

2  — in  a  mallet.]  So,  in  Milton's  Prose  Works,  1738, 
vol.  i.  p.  330  :  "  Though  the  fancy  of  this  doubt  be  as  obtruse  and 
sad  as  any  mallet."     Tollet. 

3  — eats  conger  and  fennel;  and  drinks  off  candles'  ends 
for  flap-dragons  ;]  Conger  with  fennel  was  formerly  regarded 
as  a  provocative.  It  is  mentioned  by  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Bartho- 
lomew Fair:  " — like  a  long-laced  conger  with  green  fennel  in 
the  joll  of  it."  And  in  Philaster,  one  of  the  ladies  advises  the 
wanton  Spanish  prince  to  abstain  from  this  article  of  luxury. 

Greene  likewise,  in  his  Quip  for  an  upstart  Courtier,  calls 
fennel  "  women's  weeds," — fit  generally  for  that  sex,  sith  while 
they  are  maidens  they  wish  wantonly." 

The  qualification  that  follows,  viz.  that  of  swallowing  candles' 
ends  by  way  qffap-dragons,  seems  to  indicate  no  more  than 
that  the  Prince  loved  him,  because  he  was  always  ready  to  do 
any  thing  for  his  amusement,  however  absurd  or  unnatural. 
Nash,  in  his  Pierce  Pennylesse  his  Supplication  to  the  Devil, 
advises  hard  drinkers  *.*  —  to  have  some  shooing  home  to 
pull  on  their  wine,  as  a  rasher  on  the  coals,  or  a  red  herring ; 
or  to  stir  it  about  with  a  candle's  end  to  make  it  taste  the 
better,"  &c. 

And  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  News  from  the  Moon,  &c.  a  masque, 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  95 

and  jumps  upon  joint-stools ;  and  swears  with  a 
good  grace  ;  and  wears  his  boot  very  smooth,  like 
unto  the  sign  of  the  leg 5 ;  and  breeds  no  bate  with 
telling  of  discreet  stories  6,  and  such  other  gambol 

speaks  of  those  who  eat  candles'  ends,  as  an  act  of  love  and  gal- 
lantry ;  and  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  in  Monsieur  Thomas : 
"  —carouse  her  health  in  cans,  and  candles'  ends." 

In  Rowley's  Match  at  Midnight,  ]  633,  a  captain  says,  that  his 
"  corporal  was  lately  choaked  at  Delf  by  swallowing  aflap- 
dragon." 

Again,  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtezan,  1605  :  "  — have  I  not 
been  drunk  to  your  health,  swallowed  ftapdragons,  eat  glasses, 
drank  urine,  stabbed  arms,  and  done  all  the  offices  of  protested 
gallantry  for  your  sake  ?  " 

Again,  in  The  Christian  turn'd  Turk,  1612:  " — as  familiarly 
as  pikes  do  gudgeons,  and  with  as  much  facility  as  Dutchmen 
swallow  Jlapdragons."     Steevens. 

A  flap-dragon  is  some  small  combustible  body,  fired  at  one 
end,  and  put  afloat  in  a  glass  of  liquor.  It  is  an  act  of  a  toper's 
dexterity  to  toss  off  the  glass  in  such  a  manner  as  to  prevent  the 
Jlap-dragon  from  doing  mischief.     Johnson. 

*  —  and  rides  the  wild  mare  with  the  boys  ;]  w  Riding  the 
wild  mare,"  is  another  name  for  the  childish  sport  of  see-saw,  or 
what  the  French  call  bascule  and  balangoire.     Douce. 

5  —  wears  his  boot  very  smooth,  like  unto  the  sign  of  the  leg  ;] 
The  learned  editor  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales,  1775,  observes, 
that  such  is  part  of  the  description  of  a  smart  abbot,  by  an  ano- 
nymous writer  of  the  thirteenth  century :  "  Ocreas  habebat  in 
cruribus,  quasi  innatae  essent,  sine  plica  porrectas."  MS.  Bod. 
James,  n.  6,  p.  121.     Steevens. 

6  —  discreet  stories  ;]     We  should  read — indiscreet. 

Warburton. 

I  suppose  by  discreet  stories  is  meant  what  suspicious  masters 
and  mistresses  of  families  would  call  prudential  information ; 
i.  e.  what  ought  to  be  known,  and  yet  is  disgraceful  to  the  teller : 
Among  the  virtues  of  John  Rugby,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,  Mrs.  Quickly  adds,  that  "  he  is  no  tell-tale,  no  breed- 
bate."     Steevens. 

Dr.  Warburton  would  most  unnecessarily  read  indiscreet.  Mr. 
Steevens  supposes  that  "  by  discreet  stories  is  meant  what  suspi- 
cious masters  and  mistresses  of  families  would  call  prudential  infor- 
mation ;  i.  e.  what  oughlto  be  known,  and  yet  is  disgraceful  to 
the  teller."  But  Poins,  of  whom  Falstaff  is  speaking,  had  no 
masters  or  mistresses  ;  and  if  it  be  recollected  with  what  sort  of 


96  SECOND  PART  OF  actii. 

faculties  he  hath,  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  avoirdu- 
pois. 

P.  Hen.  Would  not  this  nave  of  a  wheel 7  have 
his  ears  cut  off? 

Poins.  Let's  beat  him  before  his  whore. 

P.  Hen.  Look,  if  the  withered  elder  hath  not  his 
poll  clawed  like  a  parrot8. 

Poins.  Is  it  not  strange,  that  desire  should  so 
many  years  outlive  performance  ? 

Fal.  Kiss  me,  Doll. 

P.  Hen.  Saturn  and  Venus  this  year  in  conjunc- 
tion 9 !  what  says  the  almanack  to  that  ? 

companions  he  was  likely  to  associate,  Falstaffs  meaning  will 
appear  to  be,  that  he  excites  no  censure  Jbr  telling  them  modest 
stories  ;  or  in  plain  English  that  he  tells  them  nothing  but  immo- 
dest ones.     Douce. 

7  —  nave  of  a  wheel  — ]  Nave  and  knave  are  easily  recon- 
ciled, but  why  '  nave  of  a  wheel  ?  '  I  suppose  from  his  round- 
ness.    He  was  called  round  man,  in  contempt,  before. 

Johnson. 
So,   in   the   play  represented  before  the   king  and  queen  in 
Hamlet : 

"  Break  all  the  spokes  and  fellies  of  her  wheel, 
"  And  bowl  the  round  nave  down  the  steep  of  heaven." 

Steevens. 

8  —  his  poll  clawed  like  a  parrot.]  This  custom,  we  may 
suppose,  was  not  peculiar  to  Falstaff,  especially  as  it  occurred 
among  the  French,  to  whom  we  were  indebted  for  most  of  our 
artificial  gratifications.  So,  in  La  Venerie,  &c.  by  Jaques  de 
Fouilloux,  &c.  Paris,  4to.  1585 :  "  Le  seigneur  doit  auoir  sa 
petite  charette,  la  ou  il  sera  dedans,  auec  sa  fillette,  aagee  de 
seize  a  dix  sept  ans,  la  quelle  lui  frottera  la  teste  par  les  che- 
mins."  A  wooden  cut  annexed,  represents  this  operation  on  an 
old  man,  who  lies  along  in  his  carriage,  with  a  girl  sitting  at  his 
head.     Steevens. 

9  Saturn  and  Venus  this  year  in  conjunction  !]  This  was, 
indeed,  a  prodigy.  The  astrologers,  says  Ficinus,  remark,  that 
Saturn  and  Venus  are  never  conjoined.     Johnson. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  97 

Poms.  And,  look,  whether  the  firy  Trigon  \  his 
man,  be  not  lisping  to  his  master's  old  tables 2 ;  his 
note -book,  his  counsel-keeper. 

1  — the  firy  Trigon,  &c]  Trigonum  igneum  is  the  as- 
tronomical term  when  the  upper  planets  meet  in  a  fiery  sign. 
The  fiery  Trigon,  I  think,  consists  of  Aries,  Leo,  and  Sagit- 
tarius. So,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  b.  vi.  chap.  xxxi. : 

"  Even  at  the^ene  Trigon  shall  your  chief  ascendant  be." 
Again,  in  Pierce's  Supererogation,  or  a  new  Praise  of  the  old 
Asse,    &c.   by  Gabriel   Harvey,    1593:    "  —  now   the   warring 
planet  was  expected  in  person,  and  the  fiery  Trigon  seemed  to 
give  the  alarm."     Steevens. 

So,  in  A  Dialogue  both  pleasaunt  and  pietifull,  &c.  by  Wm. 
Bulleyne,  1564? :  "  Aries,  Leo,  and  Sagittarius,  are  hotte,  drie, 
bitter,  and  cholerike,  governing  hot  and  drie  thinges,  and  this  is 
called  the  fierie  triplicitie."     Malone. 

2  —  lisping  to  his  master's  old  tables,  &c]  We  should 
read — "  clasping  too  his  master's  old  tables,"  &c.  i.  e.  embracing 
his  master's  cast  off  whore,  and  now  his  bawd  {his  note-booh,  his 
counsel-keeper].     We  have  the  same  phrase  again  in  Cymbeline: 

*  You  clasp  young  Cupid's  tables."     Warburton. 
I  believe  the  old  reading  to  be  the  true  one.     Bardolph  was 
very  probably  drunk,  and  might  lisp  a  little  in  his  courtship ;  or 
might  assume   an  affected  softness  of  speech,  like  Chaucer's 
Frere :  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  Prol.  v.  266  : 

"  Somewhat  he  lisped  for  his  wantonnesse, 
"  To  make  his  English  swete  upon  his  tonge." 
Or,  like  the  Page,  in  The  Mad  Lover  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
who 

"  Lisps  when  he  list  to  catch  a  chambermaid." 
Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost : 

"  ■'         He  can  carve  too  and  lisp." 
Again,  in  Marston's  8th  Satire  : 

"  With  voyce  distinct,  all  fine,  articulate, 

"  Lisping,  *  Fayre  saynt,  my  woe  compassionate  t 

"  By  heaven  thine  eye  is  my  soule-guiding  fate." 

Steevens. 
Certainly  the  word  clasping  better  preserves  the  integrity  of 
the  metaphor;  or,  perhaps,  as  the  expression  is  old  tables,  we 
might  read  licking  ;  Bardolph  was  kissing  the  Hostess  ;  and  old 
ivory  books  were  commonly  cleaned  by  licking  them.     Farmer. 

The  old  table-book  was  a  counsel-keeper,  or  a  register  of  secrets ; 
and  so  also  was  Dame  Quickly.  I  have  therefore  not  the  least 
suspicion  of  any  corruption  in  the  text.  Lisping  is,  in  our  author's 
dialect,  making  love,  or,  in  modern  language,  saying  soft  things. 
So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Falstaff  apologises  to 
VOL.  XVII.  H 


98  SECOND  PART  OF  act  n. 

Fal.  Thou  dost  give  me  flattering  busses. 

Dol.  Nay,  truly ;  I  kiss  thee  with  a  most  con- 
stant 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 3  ?     I  shall 


Mrs.  Ford  for  his  concise  address  to  her,  by  saying,  "  I  cannot 
cog,  and  say  this  and  that,  like  a  many  of  these  lisping  hawthorn- 
buds,  that  come  like  women  in  men's  apparel,  and  smell  like 
Buckler's-bury  in  simple-time;  I  cannot;  but  I  love  thee,"  &c. 

Malone. 

s  —  a  kirtle  of?]  I  know  not  exactly  what  a  kirtle  is.  The 
following  passages  may  serve  to  show  that  it  was  something  dif- 
ferent from  a  gown :  "  How  unkindly  she  takes  the  matter,  and 
cannot  be  reconciled  with  less  than  agoton  or  a,  kirtle  of  silk." 
Greene's  Art  of  Legerdemain,  &c.  1612.  Again,  in  one  of  Stany- 
hurst's  poems,  1582 : 

"  This  goixrne  your  lovemate,  that  kirtle  costlye  she  craveth." 

Bale,  in  his  Actes  of  English  Votaries,  says,  that  Roger  earl  of 
Shrewsbury  sent  "  to  Clunyake  in  France,  for  the  kyrtle  of  holy 
Hugh  the  abbot."  Perhaps  kirtle,  in  its  common  acceptation, 
means  a.  petticoat.  "  Half  a  dozen  taffata  gowns  or  sattin  kirtles." 
Cynthia's  Revels,  by  Ben  Jonson. 

Stubbs  mentions  kirtles,  but  is  not  precise  in  his  description  of 
them.  Dr.  Farmer  supposes  them  to  be  the  same  as  safe-guards 
or  riding-hoods. 

In  A  Lytell  Treatyse  for  to  lerne  Englysshe  and  Frensshe,  em- 
prynted  at  Westminster,  by  Wynken  de  Worde,  we  find  "  a  kyr- 
tell"  explained  by  the  word — "  ung  corset."     Steevens. 

A  kirtle,  I  believe,  meant  a  long  cloak.  Minsheu  describes  it 
as  an  upper  or  exterior  garment,  worn  over  another  ;  what  in 
French  is  called  a  garde-robe.  See  his  Diet.  1617.  The  latter 
word  is  explained  by  Cotgrave  thus  :  "A  cloth  or  cloak  worn  or 
cast  over  a  garment  to  keep  it  from  dust,  rain,"  &c.  That 
writer,  however,  supposes  kirtle  and  petticoat  to  be  synonymous  ; 
for  he  renders  the  word  vasquine  thus  :  "  A  kirtle  or  petticoat ;  " 
and  surcot  he  calls  "  an  upper  kirtle,  or  a  garment  worn  over  a 
kirtle." 

When,  therefore,  a  kirtle  is  mentioned  simply,  perhaps  a  petti- 
coat is  meant ;  when  an  upper  kirtle  is  spoken  of,  a  long  cloak  or 
mantle  is  probably  intended  ;  and  I  imagine  a  half-kirtle,  which 
occurs  in  a  subsequent  scene  in  this  play,  meant  a  short  cloak, 
half  the  length  of  the  upper  kirtle.     The  term  half-kirtle  seems 


sc.  iv,  KING  HENRY  IV.  99 

receive  money  on  Thursday :  thou  shalt  have  a  cap 
to-morrow.  A  merry  song,  come :  it  grows  late, 
we'll  to  bed.     Thou'lt  forget  me,  when  I  am  gone, 

Dol.  By  my  troth  thou'lt  set  me  a  weeping,  an 
thou  say  st  so :  prove  that  ever  I  dress  myself  hand- 
some till  thy  return. Well,  hearken  the  end. 

Fal.  Some  sack,  Francis. 

P.  Hen.  Poins.  Anon,  anon,  sir4.     [Advancing. 

- 

inconsistent  with  Dr.  Farmer's  idea ;  as  does  Milton's  use  of  the 
word  in  his  Masque,  "  the  fiowery-kirtled  Naiades." 

Stubbes,  in  his  Anatomie  of  Abuses,  1595,  describes  a  hirtle 
as  distinct  from  both  a  goivn  and  a  petticoat.  After  having  de- 
scribed the  gowns  usually  worn  at  that  time,  he  proceeds  thus  : 
"  —  then  have  thei  petticots  of  the  best  clothe,  of  scarlette, 
grograine,  taffatie,  or  silke,  &c.  But  of  whatsoever  their  petti- 
coats be,  yet  must  they  have  kirtles,  (for  so  they  call  them,) 
either  of  silke,  velvet,  grograine,  taffatie,  satten  or  scarlet,  bor- 
dered with  gardes,  lace,"  &c.  I  suppose  he  means  a  mantle  or 
long  cloak. 

So  also,  in  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two 
Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  1600  :  "  Marry,  he  that  will 
lustily  stand  to  it,  shall  go  with  me,  and  take  up  these  commo- 
dities following:  item,  a  gown,  a  kirtle,  a  petticoat,  and  a  smock." 

My  interpretation  of  kirtle  is  confirmed  by  Barret's  Alvearie, 
1580,  who  renders  kirtle,  by  subminia,  cyclas,  palla,  pallula, 
X^ciiva,  surcot. — Subminia  Cole  interprets  in  his  Latin  Dictionary, 
1697,  "  A  kirtle,  a  light  red  coat." — Cyclas,  "  a  kirtle,  a  cimarr." 
—Palla,  "  a  woman's  long  gown  ;  a  veil  that  covers  the  head." — 
Pallula,  "  a  short  kirtle." — Lcena,  "  an  Irish  rugge,  a  freeze 
cassock,  a  rough  hairy  gaberdine." 

From  hence  it  appears,  that  a  woman's  kirtle,  or  rather  upper- 
kirtle,  (as  distinguished  from  a  petticoat,  which  was  sometimes 
called  a  kirtle,)  was  a  long  mantle  "which  reached  to  the  ground, 
with  a  head  to  it  that  entirely  covered  the  face  ;  and  it  was,  per- 
haps, usually  red.  A  half-kirtle  was  a  similar  garment,  reaching 
only  somewhat  lower  than  the  waist.  See  Florio's  Italian  Diet. 
1598:  "  Semicinto.  A  garment  coming  lower  than  the  belly; 
also  half-girt,  as  we  may  say  a  half-kirtle."  Cotgrave,  however, 
translates  Le  devant  du  robe,  an  apron,  or  kirtle.     Malone. 

*  Anon,  anon,  sir.]  The  usual  answer  of  drawers  at  this  period. 
So,  in  The  Discoverie  of  the  Knights  of  the  Poste,  1597  :  "where- 
fore hee  calling,  the  drawer  presently  answered  with  a  shrill  voyce, 
anon,  anon,  sir."     Reed. 

H  2 


100  SECOND  PART  OF  act  31. 

Fal.  Ha !  a  bastard  son  of  the  king's 5  ? — And 
art  not  thou  Poins  his  brother  6  ? 

P.  Hen.  Why,  thou  globe  of  sinful  continents, 
what  a  life  dost  thou  lead  ? 

Fal.  A  better  than  thou ;  I  am  a  gentleman, 
thou  art  a  drawer. 

P.  Hen.  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  London. — Now  the  Lord 
bless  that  sweet  face  of  thine  !  O  Jesu,  are  you 
come  from  Wales  ? 

Fal.  Thou  whoreson  mad  compound  of  majesty, 
— by  this  light  flesh  and  corrupt  blood,  thou  art 
welcome.  [Leaning  his  hand  upon  Doll. 

Dol.  How  !  you  fat  fool,  I  scorn  you. 

Poins.  My  lord,  he  will  drive  you  out  of  your  re- 
venge, and  turn  all  to  a  merriment,  if  you  take  not 
the  heat 7. 

P.  Hen.  You  whoreson  candle-mine  8,  you,  how 
vilely  did  you  speak  of  me  even  now,  before  this 
honest,  virtuous,  civil  gentlewoman  ? 

Host.  "Blessing  o'  your  good  heart !  and  so  she 
is,  by  my  troth. 

Fal.  Didst  thou  hear  me  ? 

P.  Hen.  Yes ;  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. 

5  Ha !  a  bastard,  &c]  The  improbability  of  this  scene*  is 
scarcely  balanced  by  the  humour.     Johnson. 

6  —  Poins  his  brother  ?]  i.  e.  Poins's  brother,  or  brother  to 
Poins;  a  vulgar  corruption  of  the  genitive  case.     Ritson. 

1  — if  you  take  not  the  heat.]  Alluding,  I  suppose,  to  the 
proverb,  "  Strike  while  the  iron  is  hot."  So  again,  in  King  Lear : 
"  We  must  do  something,  and  i'  the  heat.'"     Steevens. 

8  —  candle-mine,]     Thou  inexhaustible  magazine  of  tallow. 

Johnson. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  101 

Fal.  No,  no,  no ;  not  so ;  I  did  not  think,  thou 
wast  within  hearing. 

P.  Hen.  I  shall  drive  you  then  to  confess  the  wil- 
ful abuse  ;  and  then  I  know  how  to  handle  you. 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Hal,  on  mine  honour ;  no  abuse. 

P.  Hen.  Not !  to  dispraise  me 9 ;  and  call  me — 
pantler,  and  bread-chipper,  and  I  know  not  what  ? 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Hal. 

Poins.  No  abuse  ! 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Ned,  in  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,  Ned,  none ; — no, 
boys,  none. 

P.  Hen.  See  now,  whether  pure  fear,  and  entire 
cowardice,  doth  not  make  thee  wrong  this  virtuous 
gentlewoman  to  close  with  us?  Is  she  of  the 
wicked  ?  Is  thine  hostess  here  of  the  wicked  ?  Or 
is  the  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  ir- 
recoverable ;  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  \ 


9  Not  !  to  dispraise  me  ;]  The  Prince  means  to  say,  "What  J 
is  it  not  abuse  to  dispraise  me,"  &c.  Some  of  the  modern  editors 
read— *No  I  &c.  but,  I  think,  without  necessity.  So,  in  Corio- 
lanus; 

"  Com.  He'll  never  hear  him. 
"Sic.  Not?" 

There  also  Not  has  been  rejected  by  the  modern  editors,  and 
No  inserted  in  its  place.     Malone. 

i  —  outbids  him  too.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto  reads — 
**  —  the  devil  blinds  him  too ; "  and  perhaps  it  is  right.  Malone. 


102                      SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

P.  Hen.  For  the  women, 


Fal.  For  one  of  them, — she  is  in  hell  already, 
and  burns,  poor  soul ' !  For  the  other, — 1  owe  her 
money ;  and  whether  she  be  damned  for  that,  I 
know  not. 

Host.  No,  I  warrant  you. 

Fal.  No,  I  think  thou  art  not ;  I  think,  thou  art 
quit  for  that :  Marry,  there  is  another  indictment 
upon  thee,  for  suffering  flesh  to  be  eaten  in  thy 
house 3,  contrary  to  the  law ;  for  the  which,  I  think 
thou  wilt  howl. 

Host.  All  victuallers  do  so  4 :  What's  a  joint  of 
mutton  or  two  in  a  whole  Lent  ? 

P.  Hen.  You,  gentlewoman, 

Dol.  What  says  your  grace  ? 

Fal.  His  grace  says  that  which  his  flesh  rebels 
against. 

Host.  Who  knocks  so  loud  at  door  ?  look  to  the 
door  there,  Francis. 

Enter  Peto. 
P.  Hen.  Peto,  how  now  ?  what  news  ? 

2  —  and  burns,  poor  soul !]  This  is  Sir  T.  Hanraer's  reading. 
Undoubtedly  right.  The  other  editions  had — "she  is  in  hell 
already,  and  burns  poor  souls."  The  venereal  disease  was  called, 
in  those  times,  the  brennynge,  or  burning.     Johnson. 

3  —  for  suffering  flesh  to  be  eaten,  &c]  By  several  statutes 
made  in  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I.  for  the  regulation 
and  observance  of  fish-days,  victuallers  were  expressly  forbidden 
to  wttex  Jlesh  in  Lent,  and  to  these  Falstaff  alludes.     Douce. 

*  —  all  victuallers  do  so  :]  The  brothels  were  formerly 
screened,  under  pretext  of  being  victualling  houses  and  taverns. 

So,  in  Webster  and  Rowley's  Cure  for  a  Cuckold :  "  This  in- 
former comes  into  Turnbull  Street  to  a  victualling  house,  and  there 
falls  in  league  with  a  "wench,  &.c. — Now,  Sir,  this  fellow,  in  re- 
venge, informs  against  the  baivd  that  kept  the  house,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Gascoigne's  Glass  of  Government,  1575 :  "  —  at  a 
house  with  a  red  lattice  you  shall  find  an  old  baivd  called  Pande- 
rina,  and  a  young  damsel  called  Lamia." 

Barrett,  in  his  Alvearie,  1580,  defines  a  victualling  house  thus  : 
"  A  tavern  where  meate  is  eaten  out  of  due  season."     Steevens. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  103 

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. 

P.  Hen.  By  heaven,   Poins,  I  feel  me  much  to 
blame, 
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  heard.^  More  knocking  at  the  door  ? 

Re-enter  Bardolph. 

How  now  ?  what's  the  matter  ? 

Bard.  You  must  away  to  court,  sir,  presently ;  a 
dozen  captains  stay  at  door  for  you. 

Fal.  Pay  the  musicians,  sirrah.  [To  the  Page.~\ — 
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. 

Dol.  I  cannot  speak  ; — If  my  heart  be  not  ready 
to  burst : — Well,  sweet  Jack,  have  a  care  of  thy- 
self. 

Fal.  Farewell,  farewell. 

[Exeunt  Falstaff  and  Bardolph. 

Host.  Well,  fare  thee  well :  I  have  known  thee 
these  twenty-nine  years,  come  peascod-time  ;  but 


104  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

an  honester,  and  truer-hearted  man, — Well,  fare 
thee  well. 

Bard.  \JVithin.~\  Mistress  Tear-sheet, 

Host.  What's  the  matter  ? 

Bard.  \JVithin.~\  Bid  mistress  Tear-sheet  come 
to  my  master. 

Host.  O  run,  Doll,  run ;  run,  good  Doll 6. 

\Exeunt. 


ACT  III.     SCENE  I7. 
A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry  in  his  Nightgown,  with  a  Page. 

K.  Hen.  Go,  call   the   earls   of  Surrey  and   of 
Warwick ; 
But,  ere  they  come,  bid  them  o'er-read  these  let- 
ters, 

And  well  consider  of  them :  Make  good  speed. 

\_Evit  Page. 
How  many  thousand  of  my  poorest  subjects 
Are  at  this  hour  asleep  ! — O  sleep,  O  gentle  sleep8, 

6  O  run,  Doll,  run  ;  run,  good  Doll.]  Thus  the  folio.  The 
quarto  reads — "  O  run,  Doll  run ;  run  :  Good  Doll,  come  :  she 
comes  blubber'd  :  Yea,  will  you  come,  Doll  ?"     Steevens. 

7  Scene  I.]  This  first  scene  is  not  in  my  copy  of  the  first  edition. 

Johnson. 
There  are  two  copies  of  the  same  date,  and  in  one  of  these 
[quarto  B]  the  scene  has  been  added.  They  are  in  all  other  re- 
spects, alike.  It  should  seem  as  if  the  defect  in  this  quarto  was 
undiscovered  till  most  of  the  copies  of  it  were  sold,  for  only  one 
that  I  have  seen  contains  the  addition.  Signature  E  consists  of 
six  leaves.  Four  of  these,  exclusive  of  the  two  additional  ones, 
were  reprinted  to  make  room  for  the  omission.     Steevens. 

8  —  Sleep,  gentle  sleep,]  The  old  copy,  in  defiance  of  metre, 
reads : 

"  O  sleep,  O  gentle  sleep." 
The  repeated  tragic  O  was  probably  a  playhouse  intrusion. 

Steevens, 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  105 

Nature's  soft  nurse,  how  have  I  frighted  thee, 

That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eyelids  down, 

And  steep  my  senses  in  forgetfulness  ? 

Why  rather,  sleep,  liest  thou  in  smoky  cribs, 

Upon  uneasy  pallets  stretching  thee, 

And    hush'd    with    buzzing     night-flies     to    thy 

slumber; 
Than  in  the  perfum'd  chambers  of  the  great, 
Under  the  canopies  of  costly  state, 
And  lull'd  with  sounds  of  sweetest  melody? 
O  thou  dull  god,  why  liest  thou  with  the  vile, 
In  loathsome  beds ;  and  leav'st  the  kingly  couch, 
A  watch-case,  or  a  common  'larum  bell9  ? 
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  ; 
And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 
Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 
Curling  their  monstrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 
With  deaf 'ning  clamours  in  the  slippery  clouds  \ 


9  A  watch-case,  &c]  This  alludes  to  the  watchman  set  in 
garrison-towns  upon  some  eminence,  attending  upon  an  alarum- 
bell,  which  was  to  ring  out  in  case  of  fire,  or  any  approaching 
danger.  He  had  a  case  or  box  to  shelter  him  from  the  weather, 
but  at  his  utmost  peril  he  was  not  to  sleep  whilst  he  was  upon 
duty.  These  alarum-bells  are  mentioned  in  several  other  places 
of  Shakspeare.     Hanmer. 

In  an  ancient  inventory  cited  in  Strutt's  ponba  Angel-cynnan, 
vol.  iii.  p.  70,  there  is  the  following  article  :  "  Item,  a  laume  or 
watche  of  iron,  in  an  iron  case,  with  2  leaden  plumets."  Strutt 
supposes,  and  no  doubt  rightly,  that  laume  is  an  error  for  larum. 
Something  of  this  kind,  I  believe,  is  here  intended  by  watch-case, 
since  this  speech  does  not  afford  any  other  expressions  to  induce 
the  supposition  that  the  King  had  a  sentry-box  in  his  thoughts. 

Holt  White. 

1  — slippery  clouds,]  The  modern  editors  read  shroxvds, 
meaning  the  rope  ladders  by  which  the  masts  of  ships  are 
ascended.  The  old  copy—"  in  the  slippery  clouds;  "  but  I  know 
not  what  advantage  is  gained  by  the  alteration,  for  shroxvds  had 
anciently  the  same  meaning  as  clouds.     I  could  bring  many  in- 


106  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

That,  with  the  hurly 2,  death  itself  awakes  ? 
Can'st  thou,  O  partial  sleep  !  give  thy  repose 

stances  of  this  use  of  the  word  from  Drayton.     So,  in  his  Mira- 
cles of  Moses : 

"  And  the  sterne  thunder  from  the  airy  shrotvds, 
"  To  the  sad  world,  in  fear  and  horror  spake." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Poem  on  Inigo  Jones  : 

"  And  peering  forth  of  Iris  in  the  shrotvds." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  twentieth  Iliad : 
"  ■         casting  all  thicke  mantles  made  of  clouds, 
'*  On  their  bright  shoulders.     Th'  oppos'd  gods  sat  hid  in 
other  shrouds." 
A  moderate  tempest  would  hang  the  waves  in  the  shrotvds  of  a 
ship  ;  a  great  one  might  poetically  be  said  to  suspend  them  on 
the  clouds,  which  were  too  slippery  to  retain  them. 
So,  in  Julius  Caesar : 
"  — —  I  have  seen 

"  Th'  ambitious  ocean  swell,  and  rage  and  foam 
"  To  be  exalted  with  the  threatening  clouds." 
Again,   in   Golding's  translation    of   Ovid's    Metamorphosis, 
book  xi. : 

"  The  surges  mounting  up  aloft  did  seeme  to  mate  the  skie, 
"  And  with  their  sprinkling  for  to  wet  the  clouds  that  hang  on 
hie." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Queens,  1609 : 

"  ■ when  the  boisterous  sea, 

"  Without  a  breath  of  wind,  hath  knock' d  the  sky." 
Again,  Virg.  Mx\.  lib.  iii. : 

i         spumam  elisam,  et  rorantia  vidimus  astra. 
Drayton's  airy  shrotvds  are  the  airy  covertures  of  heaven  ;  which 
in  plain  language  are  the  clouds. 

A  similar  image  to  that  before  us,  occurs  in  Churchyard's  Praise 
of  Poetrie,  1595  : 

<'  The  poets  that  can  clime  the  cloudes, 

"  Like  ship-boy  to  the  top, 
"  When  sharpest  stormes  do  shake  the  shrotvdes,"  &c. 
Lee,  in  his  Mithradates,  is  the  copier  of  Shakspeare : 
"  So  sleeps  the  sea-boy  on  the  cloudy  mast, 
' '  Safe  as  a  drowsy  Triton,  rock'd  by  storms, 
"  While  tossing  princes  wake  on  beds  of  down." 

Steevens. 
The  instances  produced  by  Mr.  Steevens  prove  that  clouds  were 
sometimes  called  poetically  airy  shrouds,  or  shrouds  suspended  in 
air ;  but  they  do  not  appear  to  me  to  prove  that  any  writer,  speak- 
ing of  a  ship,  ever  called  the  shrouds  of  the  ship  by  the  name  of 
clouds.     I  entirely,  however,  agree  with  him  in  thinking  that 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  107 

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 3  ?  Then,  happy  low,  lie  down 4 ! 

Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 


clouds  here  is  the  true  reading ;  and  the  passage  produced  from 
Julius  Caesar,  while  it  fully  supports  it,  shows  that  the  word  is  to 
be  understood  in  its  ordinary  sense.  So  again,  in  The  Winters 
Tale  :  "  —  now  the  ship  boring  the  moon  with  her  main-mast, 
and  anon  swallowed  up  with  yest  and  froth."     Malone. 

My  position  appears  to  have  been  misunderstood.  I  meant  not 
to  suggest  that  the  shrowds  of  a  ship  were  ever  called  clouds. 
What  I  designed  to  say  was,  that  the  clouds  and  the  shrowds  of 
heaven  were  anciently  synonymous  terms,  so  that  by  the  exchange 
of  the  former  word  for  the  latter,  no  fresh  idea  would,  in  fact,  be 
ascertained  ;  as  the  word  shrowds  might  be  received  in  the  sense 
of  clouds  as  well  as  that  of  ship-tackle.     Steevens. 

The  epithet  slippery  agrees  better  with  shrowds  than  clouds. 

Talbot. 

2  That,  with  the  hurly,]  Hurly  is  noise,  derived  from  the 
French  hurler  to  howl,  as  hurly-burly  from  Hurluberlu,  Fr. 

Steevens. 
Holinshed,  speaking  of  the  commotions  in  the  time  of  King 
Richard  II.  says  :  "  It  was  rightly  called  the  hurling  time,  there 
were  such  hurly  bur  lyes  kept  in  every  place."  Holinshed,  vol.  ii. 
p.  1030,  edit.  1577.  So  also  in  The  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  62: 
"  And  anone  aftyr  y*  hurlyng  the  Bysshop  Rosse  apechyd  me  to 
the  quene."     Boswell. 

3  Deny  it  to  a  king  ?]  Surely,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  we 
should  read — 

"  Deny't  a  king  ?  "     Steevens. 

4 — Then,  happy  low,  lie  down!]  Evidently  corrupted  from 
happy  lowly  clown.  These  two  lines  making  the  just  conclusion 
from  what  preceded.  "  If  sleep  will  fly  a  king  and  consort 
itself  with  beggars,  then  happy  the  lowly  clown,  and  uneasy  the 
crowned  head."     Warburton. 

Dr.  Warburton  has  not  admitted  this  emendation  into  his  text : 
I  am  glad  to  do  it  the  justice  which  its  author  has  neglected. 

Johnson. 

The  sense  of  the  old  reading  seems  to  be  this :  "  You,  who 
are  happy  in  your  humble  situations,  lay  down  your  heads  to 
rest !  the  head  that  wears  a  crown  lies  too  uneasy  to  expect  such 
a  blessing."     Had  not  Shakspeare  thought  it  necessary  to  subject 


108  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

Enter  Warwick  and  Surrey. 

War.  Many  good  morrows  to  your  majesty  ! 

K.  Hen.  Is  it  good  morrow,  lords  ? 

War.  Tis  one  o'clock,  and  past. 

K.  Hen.  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. 

K.  Hen.  Then  you  perceive,  the  body  of  our 
kingdom 
How  foul  it  is  ;  what  rank  diseases  grow, 

himself  to  the  tyranny  of  rhyme,  he  would  probably  have  said  : 
'*  then  happy  low,  sleep  on  !  " 
So,  in  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur,  a  tragedy,  1587  : 
"  Behold  the  peasant  poore  with  tattered  coate, 
"  Whose  eyes  a  meaner  fortune  feeds  with  sleepe, 
"  How  safe  and  sound  the  carelesse  snudge  doth  snore." 
Sir  W.  D'Avenant  has  the  same  thought  in  his  Law  against 
Lovers : 

"  How  soundly  they  sleep,  whose  pillows  lie  low !  " 

Steevens. 
5  Why  then,  good  morrow  to  you  all,  my  lords.]     In  my  re- 
gulation of  this  passage  I  have  followed  the  late  editors ;  but  I 
am  now  persuaded  the  first  line  should  be  pointed  thus  : 
"  Why  then  good  morrow  to  you  all,  my  lords." 
This  mode  of  phraseology,  where  only  two  persons  are  ad- 
dressed, is  not  very  correct,  but  there  is  no  ground  for  reading — 

"  Why,  then,  good  morrow  to  you.  Well,  my  lords,"  &c. 
as  Theobald  and  all  the  subsequent  editors  do ;  for  Shakspeare, 
in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  II.  has  put  the  same  ex- 
pression into  the  mouth  of  York,  when  he  addresses  only  his 
two  friends,  Salisbury  and  Warwick ;  though  the  author  of  the 
original  play,  printed  in  1600,  on  which  The  Second  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  was  founded,  had,  in  the  corresponding  place,  employed 
the  word  both  ! 

"  — —  Where  as  all  you  know, 
"  Harmless  Richard  was  murder'd  traiterously." 
This  is  one  of  the  numerous  circumstances  that  contribute  to 
prove  that  Shakspeare's  Henries  were  formed  on  the  work  of  a 
preceding  writer.      See  the    Dissertation   on   that  subject,    in 
vol.  xviii.    Malone. 


sc.  j.  KING  HENRY  IV.  109 

And  with  what  danger,  near  the  heart  of  it. 

War.  It  is  but  as  a  body,  yet,  distemper'd 6 ; 
Which  to  his  former  strength  may  be  restor'd, 

With  good  advice,  and  little  medicine  : 

My  lord  Northumberland  will  soon  be  cool'd  7. 

K.  Hen.  O  heaven !  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 8 
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  9, 


6  It  is  but  as  a  body,  yet,  distemper'd;]  Distemper,  that 
is,  according  to  the  old  physick,  a  disproportionate  mixture  of  hu- 
mours, or  inequality  of  innate  heat  and  radical  humidity,  is  less 
than  actual  disease,  being  only  the  state  which  foreruns  or  pro- 
duces diseases.  The  difference  between  distemper  and  disease 
seems  to  be  much  the  same  as  between  disposition  and  habit. 

Johnson. 

7  My  lord  Northumberland  will  soon  be  cool'd.]  I  believe 
Shakspeare  wrote  schooVd  j  tutor'd,  and  brought  to  submission. 

Warburton. 
Cool'd  is  certainly  right.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  :  "  —  my  humour  shall 
not  cool."     Steevens. 

8  O  heaven  !  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,   &c]     So,  in   our 
author's  64-th  Sonnet : 

"  When  I  have  seen  the  hungry  ocean  gain 

"  Advantage  on  the  kingdom  of  the  shore, 

"  And  the  firm  soil  win  of  the  watry  main, 

"  Increasing  store  with  loss,  and  loss  with  store ; 

"  When  I  have  seen  such  interchange  of  state,"  &c. 

Malone. 

9  —  O,  if  this  were  seen,  &c]  These  four  lines  are  supplied 
from  the  edition  of  1600.     Warburton. 


110  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

The  happiest  youth, — viewing  his  progress  through, 
What  perils  past,  what  crosses  to  ensue, — 
Would  shut  the  book,  and  sit  him  down  and  die. 
'Tis  not  ten  years  gone, 

Since  Richard,  and  Northumberland,  great  friends, 
Did  feast  together,  and  in  two  years  after 
Were  they  at  wars :  It  is  but  eight  years,  since 

My  copy  wants  the  whole  scene,  and  therefore  these  lines. 

There  is  some  difficulty  in  the  line — 

"  What  perils  past,  what  crosses  to  ensue — ," 
because  it  seems  to  make  past  perils  equally  terrible  with  ensuing 
crosses.     Johnson. 

This  happy  youth,  who  is  to  foresee  the  future  progress  of  his 
life,  cannot  be  supposed,  at  the  time  of  his  happiness,  to  have 
gone  through  many  perils.  Both  the  perils  and  the  crosses  that 
the  King  alludes  to  were  yet  to  come  ;  and  what  the  youth  is  to 
foresee  is,  the  many  crosses  he  would  have  to  contend  with,  even 
after  he  has  passed  through  many  perils.     M.  Mason. 

In  answer  to  Dr.  Johnson's  objection  it  may  be  observed,  that 
past  perils  are  not  described  as  equally  terrible  with  ensuing 
crosses,  but  are  merely  mentioned  as  an  aggravation  of  the  sum 
of  human  calamity.  He  who  has  already  gone  through  some 
perils,  might  hope  to  have  his  quietus,  and  might  naturally  sink 
in  despondency,  on  being  informed  that  "  bad  begins  and  worse 
remains  behind."  Even  past  perils  are  painful  in  retrospect,  as 
a  man  shrinks  at  the  sight  of  a  precipice  from  which  he  once 
fell. — To  one  part  of  Mr.  M.  Mason's  observation  it  may  be  re- 
plied, that  Shakspeare  does  not  say  the  happy,  but  the  happiest, 
youth  ;  that  is,  even  the  happiest  of  mortals,  all  of  whom  are 
destined  to  a  certain  portion  of  misery. 

Though  what  I  have  now  stated  may,  I  think,  fairly  be  urged 
in  support  of  what  seems  to  have  been  Dr.  Johnson's  sense  of 
this  passage,  yet  I  own  Mr.  M.  Mason's  interpretation  is  ex- 
tremely ingenious,  and  probably  is  right.  The  perils  here  spoken 
of  may  not  have  been  actually  passed  by  the  peruser  of  the  book 
of  fate,  though  they  have  been  passed  by  him  in  "  viewing  his 
progress  through  ; "  or,  in  other  words,  though  the  register  of 
them  has  been  perused  by  him.  They  may  be  said  to  be  past  in 
one  sense  only;  namely,  with  respect  to  those  which  are  to 
ensue  ;  which  are  presented  to  his  eye  subsequently  to  those 
which  precede.  If  the  spirit  and  general  tendency  of  the  pas- 
sage, rather  than  the  grammatical  expression,  be  attended  to, 
this  may  be  said  to  be  the  most  obvious  meaning.  The  con- 
struction is,  "  What  perils  having  been  past,  tvhat  crosses  are  to 
ensue."     Malone. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  Ill 

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 2,  as  I  may  remember,) 

[To  Warwick. 
When  Richard, — with  his  eye  brimfull  of  tears, 
Then  check'd  and  rated  by  Northumberland, — 
Did  speak  these  words,  now  prov'd  a  prophecy  ? 
Northumberland,  thou  ladder,  by  the  which 
My  cousin  Bolingbroke  ascends  my  throne  ; — 
Though  then,  heaven  knows,  I  had  no  such  intent3; 
But  that  necessity  so  bow'd  the  state, 


1  — But  which  of  you  was  by,  &c]  He  refers  to  King 
Richard  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  II.  But  whether  the  king's  or  the  au- 
thor's memory  fails  him,  so  it  was,  that  Warwick  was  not  present 
at  that  conversation.     Johnson. 

Neither  was  the  King  himself  present,  so  that  he  must  have 
received  information  of  what  passed  from  Northumberland.  His 
memory,  indeed,  is  singularly  treacherous,  as,  at  the  time  of 
which  he  is  now  speaking,  he  had  actually  ascended  the  throne. 

Ritson. 

*  —  cousin  Nevil,]  Shakspeare  has  mistaken  the  name  of 
the  present  nobleman.  The  earldom  of  Warwick  was,  at  this 
time,  in  the  family  of  Beauchamp,  and  did  not  come  into  that  of 
the  Nevils  till  many  years  after,  in  the  latter  end  of  the  reign  of 
King  Henry  VI.  when  it  descended  to  Anne  Beauchamp,  (the 
daughter  of  the  earl  here  introduced,)  who  was  married  to  Richard 
Nevil,  Earl  of  Salisbury.     Steevens. 

Anne  Beauchamp  was  the  wife  of  that  Richard  Nevil,  (in  her 
right,)  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  son  to  Richard  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
who  makes  so  conspicuous  a  figure  in  our  author's  Second  and 
Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  He  succeeded  to  the  latter  title 
on  his  father's  death,  in  1460,  but  is  never  distinguished  by  it. 

Ritson. 

3  —  I  had  no  such  intent ;"]  He  means,  "  I  should  have  had 
no  such  intent,  but  that  necessity,"  &c.  or  Shakspeare  has  here 
akso  forgotten  his  former  play,  or  has  chosen  to  make  Henry 
forget  his  situation  at  the  time  mentioned.  He  had  then  actually 
accepted  the  crown.     See  King  Richard  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  I. : 

"  In  God's  name,  I'll  ascend  the  regal  throne."   Malone. 


112  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

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, 
Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceas'd  : 
The  which  observ'd,  a  man  may  prophecy, 
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  4, 
King  Richard  might  create  a  perfect  guess, 
That  great  Northumberland,  then  false  to  him, 
Would,  of  that  seed,  grow  to  a  greater  falseness ; 
Which  should  not  find  a  ground  to  root  upon, 
Unless  on  you. 

K.  Hen.  Are  these  things  then  necessities5? 
Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities 6 : — 

4  And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  this,]  I  think  we  might 
better  read : 

"  the  necessary  form  of  things." 

The  word  this  has  no  very  evident  antecedent.     Johnson. 

If  any  change  were  wanting,  I  would  read  : 

"  And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  these" 
i.  e.  the  things  mentioned  in  the  preceding  line.     Steevens. 

"  And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  this"  is,  I  apprehend,  to  be 
understood  this  history  of  the  times  deceased.     Henley. 

*  Are  these  things  then  necessities?]  I  suspect  that— 
things  then  are  interpolated  words.  They  corrupt  the  measure, 
do  not  improve  the  sense,  and  the  anticipation  of  then  diminishes 
the  force  of  the  same  adverb  in  the  following  line.     Steevens. 

6  Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities  :]  I  am  inclined  to 
read  : 

"  Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessity." 

That  is,  with  the  resistless  violence  of  necessity ;  then  comes 
more  aptly  the  following  line  : 

"  And  that  same  word  even  now  cries  out  on  us." 
That  is,  the  word  necessity.     Johnson. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  113 

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  ; 

Rumour  doth  double,  like  the  voice  and  echo, 
The  numbers  of  the  fear'd  : — Please  it  your  grace, 
To  go  to  bed ;  upon  my  life,  my  lord, 
The  powers  that  you  already  have  sent  forth, 
Shall  bring  this  prize  in  very  easily. 
To  comfort  you  the  more,  I  have  receiv'd 
A  certain  instance,  that  Glendower  is  dead 7. 
Your  majesty  hath  been  this  fortnight  ill ; 
And  these  unseason'd  hours,  perforce,  must  add 
Unto  your  sickness. 

K.  Hen.  I  will  take  your  counsel : 

And,  were  these  inward  wars  once  out  of  hand, 
We  would,  dear  lords,  unto  the  Holy  Land 8. 

[Exeunt. 

That  is,  let  us  meet  them  with  that  patience  and  quiet  temper 
with  which  men  of  fortitude  meet  those  events  which  they  know 
to  be  inevitable. — I  cannot  approve  of  Johnson's  explanation. 

M.  Mason. 

7  — that  Glendower  is  dead.]  Glendower  did  not  die  till 
after  King  Henry  IV. 

Shakspeare  was  led  into  this  error  by  Holinshed,  who  places 
Owen  Glendower's  death  in  the  tenth  year  of  Henry's  reign. 
See  vol.  xvi.  p.  310,  n.  5.     Malone. 

8  —  unto  the  Holy  Land.]  This  play,  like  the  former,  pro- 
ceeds in  one  unbroken  tenor  through  the  first  edition,  and  there  is 
therefore  no  evidence  that  the  division  of  the  Acts  was  made  by  the 
author.  Since,  then,  every  editor  has  the  same  right  to  mark  the 
intervals  of  action  as  the  players,  who  made  the  present  distribu- 
tion, I  should  propose  that  this  scene  may  be  added  to  the  fore- 
going Act,  and  the  remove  from  London  to  Gloucestershire  be 
made  in  the  intermediate  time,  but  that  it  would  shorten  the  next 
Act  too  much,  which  has  not,  even  now,  its  due  proportion  to  the 
rest.     Johnson. 


VOL.  XVII 


114  SECOND  PART  OF  act  m. 


SCENE  II. 

Court  before  Justice  Shallow's  House  in  Glouces- 
tershire9. 

Enter  Shallow  and  Silence,  meeting ;  Mouldy, 
Shadow,  Wart,  Feeble,  Bull-calf,  and  Ser- 
vants, behind. 

Shal.  Come  on,  come  on,  come  on ;  give  me 
your  hand,  sir,  give  me  your  hand,  sir :  an  early 
stirrer,  by  the  rood  '.  And  how  doth  my  good 
cousin  Silence  ? 

9  —  Justice  Shallow's  House  in  Gloucestershire.]  From  the 
following  passage  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  1606,  we  may- 
conclude  that  Kempe  was  original  Justice  Shallow. — Bur- 
bage  and  Kempe  are  introduced,  instructing  some  Cambridge  stu- 
dents to  act.  Burbage  makes  one  of  the  students  repeat  some 
lines  of  Hieronymo  and  King  Richard  III.  Kempe  says  to  ano- 
ther, "  Now  for  you, — methinks  you  belong  to  my  tuition  ;  and 
your  face  methinks  would  be  good  for  a  foolish  Mayor,  or  a  foolish 
Justice  of  Peace." — And  again  :  "  Thou  wilt  do  well  in  time  if 
thou  wilt  be  ruled  by  thy  betters,  that  is,  by  myselfe,  and  such 
grave  aldermen  of  the  play-house  as  I  am."  It  appears  from 
Nashe's  Apologie  of  Pierce  Penniless,  1593,  that  he  likewise 
played  the  Clown  :  "  What  can  be  made  of  a  rope-maker  more 
than  ncloixme.  Will.  Kempe,  I  mistrust  it  will  fall  to  thy  lot  for  a 
merriment  one  of  these  dayes."     Malone. 

1 — by  the  rood.]     i.  e.  the  cross.     Pope. 

Hearne,  in  his  Glossary  to  Peter  Langtoft,  p.  544,  under  the 
word  cross,  observes,  that  although  the  cross  and  the  rood  are  com- 
monly taken  for  the  same,  yet  the  rood  properly  signified  formerly 
the  image  of  Christ  on  the  cross ;  so  as  to  represent  both  the 
cross  and  figure  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  as  he  suffered  upon  it. 
The  roods  that  were  in  churches  and  chapels  were  placed  in 
shrines  that  were  called  rood  lofts.  "  Roodlqft,  (saith  Blount,)  is 
a  shrine  whereon  was  placed  the  cross  of  Christ.  The  rood  was 
an  image  of  Christ  on  the  cross,  made  generally  of  wood,  and 
erected  in  a  loft  for  that  purpose,  just  over  the  passage  out  of  the 
church  into  the  chancel."     Reed. 

Bullokar,  however,  is  a  better  authority  than  any  of  these, 
being  contemporary  with  Shakspeare.     In  his  English  Expositor, 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  115 

Sil?  Good  morrow,  good  cousin  Shallow. 

Shal.  And  how  doth  my  cousin,  your  bedfellow  ? 
and  your  fairest  daughter,  and  mine,  my  god- 
daughter Ellen  ? 

Sil.  Alas,  a  black  ouzel,  cousin  Shallow. 

Shal.  By  yea  and  nay,  sir,  I  dare  say,  my  cousin 
William  is  become  a  good  scholar :  He  is  at  Ox- 
ford, still,  is  he  not  ? 

Sil.  Indeed,  sir  ;  to  my  cost. 

Shal.  He  must  then  to  the  inns  of  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,  and  roundly 
too.  There  was  I,  and  little  John  Doit  of  Stafford- 
shire, and  black  George  Bare,  and  Francis  Pick- 
bone,  and  Will  Squele  a  Cotswold  man  3 — you  had 

8vo.  1616,  he  defines  roode  thus  :  "  In  land  it  signifies  a  quarter 
of  an  acre.  It  is  sometimes  taken  for  the  picture  of  our  Saviour 
upon  the  cross."     Malone. 

2  Sil.]  The  oldest  copy  of  this  play  was  published  in  1600. 
It  must  however  have  been  acted  somewhat  earlier,  as  in  Ben 
Jonson's  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  which  was  performed  in 
1599,  is  the  following  reference  to  it :  "  No,  lady,  this  is  a  kins- 
man to  Justice  Silence."     Steevens. 

3  —  Will  Squele  a  Cotswold  man,]  The  games  at  Cotswold 
were,  in  the  time  of  our  author,  very  famous.  Of  these  I  have 
seen  accounts  in  several  old  pamphlets ;  and  Shallow,  by  distin- 
guishing Will  Squele,  as  a  Cotswold  man,  meant  to  have  him 
understood  as  one  who  was  well  versed  in  manly  exercises,  and 
consequently  of  a  daring  spirit,  and  an  athletic  constitution. 

Steevens. 
The  games  of  Cotswold,  I  believe,  did  not  commence  till  the 
reign  of  James  I.  I  have  never  seen  any  pamphlet  that  mentions 
them  as  having  existed  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  Randolph 
speaks  of  their  revival  in  the  time  of  Charles  I. ;  and  from  Dover's 
book  they  appear  to  have  been  revived  in  1636.  But  this  does 
not  prove  that  they  were  exhibited  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Thev  ccrtainlv  were  in  that  of  King  James,  and  were  probably 

I   2 


116  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

not  four  such  swinge-bucklers 4  in  all  the  inns  of 
court  again  :  and,  I  may  say  to  you,  we  knew  where 
the  bona-robas 5  were ;  and  had  the  best  of  them 
all  at  commandment.  Then  was  Jack  Falstaff, 
now  sir  John,  a  boy ;  and  page  to  Thomas  Mow- 
bray, duke  of  Norfolk. 

Sil.  This  sir  John,  cousin,  that  comes  hither 
anon  about  soldiers  ? 

Shal.  The  same  sir  John,  the  very  same.    I  saw 

discontinued  after  his  death.  However,  Cotswold  might  have 
been  long  famous  for  meetings  of  tumultuous  swinge-bucklers. 
See  vol.  viii.  p.  16,  n.  6.     Malone. 

4  —  swinge-bucklers  — ]  Swinge-bucklers  and  swash-bucklers 
were  words  implying  rakes  or  rioters  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare. 

Nash,  addressing  himself  to  his  old  opponent  Gabriel  Harvey, 
1598,  says  :  "  Turpe  senex  miles,  'tis  time  for  such  an  olde  foole 
to  leave  playing  the  swash-buckler ." 

Again,  in  The  Devil's  Charter,  1607,  Caraffa  says,  "  when  I 
was  a  scholar  in  Padua,  faith,  then  I  could  have  swinged  a  sword 
and  buckler,"  &c.     Ste evens. 

"  West  Smithfield  (says  the  Continuator  of  Stowe's  Annals, 
1631,)  was  for  many  years  called  Ruffians'  Hall,  by  reason  it  was 
the  usual  place  of  frayes  and  common  fighting,  during  the  time 
that  sword  and  buckler  were  in  use  ;  when  every  serving-man, 
from  the  base  to  the  best,  carried  a  buckler  at  his  backe,  which 
hung  by  the  hilt  or  pummel  of  his  sword  which  hung  before  him. 
— Untill  the  20th  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  it  was  usual  to  have 
frayes,  fights,  and  quarrels  upon  the  sundayes  and  holydayes, 
sometimes,  twenty,  thirty,  and  forty  swords  and  bucklers,  halfe 
against  halfe,  as  well  by  quarrels  of  appointment  as  by  chance. — 
And  in  the  winter  season  all  the  high  streets  were  much  annoyed 
and  troubled  with  hourly  frayes,  and  sword  and  buckler  men,  who 
took  pleasure  in  that  bragging  fight ;  and  although  they  made 
great  shew  of  much  furie,  and  fought  often,  yet  seldome  any  man 
was  hurt,  for  thrusting  was  not  then  in  use,  neither  would  any  one 
of  twenty  strike  beneath  the  waste,  by  reason  they  held  it  cowardly 
and  beastly."     Malone. 

5  —  bona-robas  — ]  i.  e.  ladies  of  pleasure.  Bona  Roba,  Ital. 
So,  in  The  Bride,  by  Nabbes,  1640  : 

"  Some  bona-roba  they  have  been  sporting  with." 

Steevens. 
See  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary,   1598  ;   "  Buona  roba,  as  we 
say  good  stuff;  a  good  wholesome  plump-cheeked  wench." 

Malone. 


ac  //.  KING  HENRY  IV.  117 

him  break  Skogan's  head 7  at  the  court  gate,  when 
he  was  a  crack 8,  not  thus  high :  and  the  very  same 

7  —  Skogan's  head  — ]  Who  Skogan  was,  may  be  understood 
from  the  following  passage  in  The  Fortunate  Isles,  a  masque,  by 
Ben  Jonson,  1626 : 

" Methinks  you  should  enquire  now  after  Skelton, 

"  And  master  Scogan. 

" Scogan  ?  what  was  he  ? 

"  Oh,  a  fine  gentleman,  and  a  master  of  arts 

"  Of  Henri/  the  Fourth's  times,  that  made  disguises 

"  For  the  king's  sons,  and  writ  in  ballad  royal 

"  Daintily  well,"  &c. 
Among  the  works  of  Chaucer  is  a  poem  called  "  Scogan  unto 
the  Lordes  and  Gentilmen  of  the  Kinge's  House."     Steevens. 

In  the  written  copy,  (says  the  editor  of  Chaucer's  Works,  1598,) 
the  title  hereof  is  thus  :  "  Here  followethe  amorall  ballade  to  the 
Prince,  now  Prince  Henry,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  Duke  of 
Bedford,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  the  kinges  sons,  by  Henri/  Sco- 
gan, at  a  supper  among  the  merchants  in  the  vintrey  at  London, 
in  the  house  of  Lewis  John."  The  purport,  of  the  ballad  is  to  dis- 
suade them  from  spending  their  youth  "  folily." 

John  Skogan,  who  is  said  to  have  taken  the  degree  of  master  of 
arts  at  Oxford,  "  being  (says  Mr.  Warton)  an  excellent  mimick, 
and  of  great  pleasantry  in  conversation,  became  the  favourite  buf- 
foon of  the  court  of  King  Edward  IV."  Bale  and  Tanner  have 
confounded  him  with  Henri/  Scogan,  if  indeed  they  were  distinct 
persons,  which  I  doubt.  The  compositions  which  Bale  has  attri- 
buted to  the  writer  whom  he  supposes  to  have  lived  in  the 
time  of  Edward  IV.  were  written  by  the  poet  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  IV.  which  induces  me  to  think  that  there  was  no  poet  or 
master  of  arts  of  this  name,  in  the  time  of  Edward.  There  might 
then  have  been  a  jester  of  the  same  name.  Scogin's  Jests  were 
published  by  Andrew  Borde,  a  physician  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. 
They  were  entered  in  the  Stationers'  books  in  1565,  by  Thomas 
Colwell :  and  were  probably  published  in  that  year.  Shakspeare 
had  probably  met  with  this  book  ;  and  as  he  was  very  little  scru- 
pulous about  anachronisms,  this  person,  and  not  Henri/  Scogan, 
the  poet  of  the  time  of  Henry  IV.  may  have  been  in  his  thoughts : 
I  say  niai/,  for  it  is  by  no  means  certain,  though  the  author  of  Re- 
marks on  the  last  edition  of  Shakspeare,  &c.  has  asserted  it  with 
that  confidence  which  distinguishes  his  observations. 

Since  this  note  was  written,  I  have  observed  that  Mr.  Tyrwhitt 
agrees  with  me  in  thinking  that  there  was  no  poet  of  the  name  of 
Scogan  in  the  time  of  King  Edward  IV.  nor  any  ancient  poet  of 
that  name  but  Henri/  Scogan,  Master  of  Arts,  who  lived  in  the 
time  of  King  Henry  IV.  and  he  urges  the  same  argument  that  I 


118  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

day  did  I  fight  with  one  Sampson  Stockfish,  a  fruit- 
erer, behind  Gray's-inn.     O,  the  mad  days  that  I 


have  done,  namely,  that  the  compositions  which  Bale  ascribes  to 
the  supposed  John  Scogan,  were  written  by  Henry.  Bale  and 
Tanner  were,  I  believe,  Mr.  Warton's  only  authority. 

"  As  to  the  two  circumstances  (says  Mr.  Tyrwhitt,)  of  his  being 
a  master  of  arts  of  Oxford,  and  jester  to  the  king,  I  can  find  no 
older  authority  for  it  than  Dr.  Borde's  book.  That  he  was  con- 
temporary with  Chaucer,  but  so  as  to  survive  him  several  years, 
perhaps  till  the  reign  of  Hemy  V.  is  sufficiently  clear  from  this 
poem  [the  poem  mentioned  in  the  former  part  of  my  note]. 

"  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  followed  the  jest-book,  in  consi- 
dering Scogan  as  a  mere  buffoon,  when  he  mentions  as  one  of 
Falstaffs  boyish  exploits  that  he  broke  Scogan's  head  at  the  court- 
gate."     Tyrwhitfs  Chaucer,  vol.  v.  Pref. 

"  Among  a  number  of  people  of  all  sorts  who  had  letters  of 
protection  to  attend  Richard  II.  upon  his  expedition  into  Ireland 
in  1399,  is  Henricus  Scogan,  Armiger."     Ibidem,  p.  xv. 

M  ALONE. 

This  was  John  Scogan,  jester  to  King  Edward  IV.  and  not 
Henry,  the  poet,  who  lived  long  before,  but  is  frequently  con- 
founded with  him.  Our  author,  no  doubt,  was  well  read  in  John's 
Jests,  "  gathered  by  Andrew  Boarde,  doctor  of  physick,"  and 
printed  in  4to.  and  black  letter,  but  without  date ;  and  his  exist- 
ence, which  has  been  lately  called  in  question,  (for  what  may  not 
be  called  in  question  ?)  is  completely  ascertained  by  the  following 
characteristic  epitaph,  accidentally  retrieved  from  a  contemporary 
manuscript  in  the  Harleian  library  (No.  1587)  : 

Hie  iacet  in  tumulo  corpus  Scogan  ecce  Johannis  ; 

Sit  tibi  pro  speculo,  letus  fuit  eius  in  annis  : 

Leti  transibunt,  transitus  vitare  nequibunt ; 

Quo  nescimus  ibunt,  vinosi  cito  peribunt. 
Holinshed,  speaking  of  the  great  men  of  Edward  the  Fourth's 
time,  mentions  "  Scogan,  a  learned  gentleman,  and  student  for 
a  time  in  Oxford,  of  a  pleasaunte  witte,  and  bent  to  mery  deuises, 
in  respect  whereof  he  was  called  into  the  courte,  where  giuing 
himselfe  to  his  naturall  inclination  of  mirthe  and  pleasaunt  pas- 
time, he  plaied  many  sporting  parts,  althoughe  not  in  suche  vnci- 
uill  maner  as  hath  bene  of  hym  reported."  These  uncivil  reports, 
evidently  allude  to  the  above  jest-book,  a  circumstance  of  whieh 
no  one  who  consults  it  will  have  the  least  doubt.  See  also  Bale's 
Scriptores  Britanniae,  and  Tanner's  Bibliotheca  Britannico-Hiber- 
nica,  art.  Skogan.  After  all,  there  is  some  reason  to  believe  that 
John  was  actually  a  little  bit  of  a  poet.  Drayton,  in  his  preface 
to  his  Eclogues,  says,  that  "  the  Colin  Clout  of  Scogan,  under 

7 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  119 

have  spent !  and  to  see  how  many  of  mine  old  ac- 
quaintance are  dead  ! 

Sil.  We  shall  all  follow,  cousin. 

Shal.  Certain,  'tis  certain  ;  very  sure,  very  sure : 
death,  as  the  Psalmist  saith,  is  certain  to  all;  all 
shall  die.  How  a  good  yoke  of  bullocks  at  Stam- 
ford fair  ? 

Sil.  Truly,  cousin,  I  was  not  there. 

Shal.  Death  is  certain. — Is  old  Double  x)f  your 
town  living  yet. 


Henry  the  Seventh,  is  pretty ;  "  cleavly  meaning  some  pastoral 
under  that  title,  and  of  that  age,  which  he  must  have  read,  and, 
consequently,  not  Skelton's  poem  so  called,  nor  any  thing  of  Spen- 
ser's. Langham,  in  his  enumeration  of  Captain  Cox's  library,  no- 
tices "  the  Seargeaunt  that  became  a  Fryar,  Skogan,  Collyn 
Cloout,  the  Fryar  and  the  Boy,  Elynor  Rumming,  and  the  Nut- 
brooun  Maid ;  "  and  that,  by  Skogan,  the  writer  does  not  mean 
his  Jests,  is  evident,  from  the  circumstance  of  all  the  rest  being 
poetical  tracts.  He  is  elsewhere  named  in  company  with  Skelton  ; 
and,  in  support  of  this  idea,  one  may  refer  to  the  facetious  epigram 
he  wrote  on  taking  his  degree,  at  Oxford,  of  Master  of  Arts.  Mr. 
Tyrwhitt's  opinion  will,  on  all  occasions.be  intitled  to  attention  and 
respect ;  but  no  opinion  can  have  any  weight  whatever  against  a 
positive  and  incontrovertible  fact.     Ritson. 

Mr.  Ritson  has  maintained  the  same  opinion  in  his  Bibliogra- 
phia  Poetica,  with  ludicrous  vehemence.  The  only  argument  he 
has  produced  to  show  that  John  Scogan  was  a  poet,  namely,  the 
quotation  from  Drayton,  will  by  no  means  prove  his  point.  Dray- 
ton, or  his  printer,  may  have  mistaken  Scogan  for  Skelton,  for  it 
is  not  so  clear  that  he  meant  that  Colin  Clout  was  a  pastoral, 
if  we  read  what  follows  :  "  The  Colin  Clout  of  Scogan  under 
Henry  the  Seventh  is  pretty,  hut  Barclay's  Ship  of  Foolshath  twenty 
•wiser  in  it"  The  Ship  of  Fools  was  certainly  not  a  pastoral.  It 
is  admitted  that  the  date  given  by  Drayton,  "  under  Henry  the  Se- 
venth," is  wrong;  and  Mr.  Ritson,  in  his  Bibliographia,  corrects  it 
to  Edward  the  Fourth.  It  may  as  well  have  been  Henry  IV.  which 
might  more  easily  be  mistaken  for  Henry  VII.  The  facetious  epi- 
gram alluded  to.  which  Mr.  Ritson  has  given  in  his  Bibliographia, 
will  go  a  very  little  way  towards  proving  him  a  poet.     Boswell. 

8  —  crack,]  This  is  an  old  Islandic  word,  signifying  a  boy  or 
child.  One  of  the  fabulous  kings  and  heroes  of  Denmark,  called 
Hrolf,  was  surnamed-  Krake.     See  the  story  in  Edda,  Fable  63. 

Tykwhitt. 


120  SECOND  PART  OF  act  m, 

Sil.  Dead,  sir. 

Shal.  Dead  ! — See,  see  ! — he  drew  a  good 
bow; — And  dead  ! — he  shot  a  fine  shoot: — John 
of  Gaunt  loved  him  well,  and  betted  much  money 
on  his  head.  Dead ! — he  would  have  clapped  i'  the 
clout9  at  twelve  score  ' ;  and  carried  you  a  forehand 
shaft  a  fourteen  and  fourteen  and  a  half2,  that  it 

would  have  done  a  man's  heart  good  to  see. 

How  a  score  of  ewes  now  ? 

9  —  clapped  i'  the  clout  — ]     i.  e.  hit  the  white  mark. 

Warbukton. 
So,  in  King  Lear:  "  O,  well  flown,  bird  ! — i  the  clout,   V  the 
clout."     Steevens. 

1  —  at  twelve  score  ;]  i.  e.  of  yards.  So,  in  Drayton's  Poly- 
olbion,  1612: 

"  At  markes  full  fortie  score  they  us'd  to  prick  and  rove." 

Malone. 
This  mode  of  expression,  certainly  in  this  instance,  and  I  be- 
lieve in  general,  means  yards;  but  the  line  from  Drayton  makes 
this  opinion  doubtful,  or  shows  the  extreme  inaccuracy  of  the  poet, 
for  no  man  was  ever  capable  of  shooting  an  arrow  forty  score 
yards.     Douce. 

2  —  fourteen,  and  fourteen  and  a  half,]  That  is,  fourteen 
score  of  yards.     Johnson. 

Twelve  score  appears,  however,  from  a  passage  in  Churchyard's 
Charitie,  1 595,  to  have  been  no  shot  of  an  extraordinary  length  : 
"  They  hit  the  white  that  never  shot  before, 
"  No  marke-men  sure,  nay  bunglers  in  their  kind, 
"  A  sort  of  swads  that  scarce  can  shoot  twelve  score." 

Steevens. 
The  utmost  distance  that  the  archers  of  ancient  times  reached, 
is  supposed  to  have  been  about  three  hundred  yards.  Old  Double 
therefore  certainly  drew  a  good  bow.     Malone. 

Shakspeare  probably  knew  what  he  was  about  when  he  spoke 
of  archery,  which  in  his  time  was  practised  by  every  one.  He  is 
describing  Double  as  a  very  excellent  archer,  and  there  is  no  in- 
consistency in  making  such  a  one  shoot  fourteen  score  and  a  half; 
but  it  must  be  allowed  that  none  but  a  most  extraordinary  archer 
would  be  able  to  hit  a  mark  at  twelve  score.  Some  allowance, 
however,  should  be  made  when  the  speaker  is  considered.  Douce. 
The  long  field  (I  believe  at  Finsbury)  is  16  score  10  yards.  A 
Mr.  Bates  once  shot  an  arrow  near  30  yards  beyond  the  bound  of 
it,  which  was  18  score.  Mr.  John  Rowston,  of  Manchester,  has 
often  shot  IS  score.     Miss  Banks. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  121 

Sil.  Thereafter  as  they  be:  a  score  of  good  ewes 
may  be  worth  ten  pounds. 

Shal.     And  is  old  Double  dead  ! 

Enter  Bardolph,  and  one  with  him. 

Sil.  Here  come  two  of  sir  John  FalstafTs  men, 
as  I  think. 

Bard.  Good  morrow,  honest  gentlemen  #  :  I  be- 
seech 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 
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  well 
said  indeed  too.  Better  accommodated! — it  is 
good  ;  yea,  indeed,  it  is :  good  phrases  are  surely, 
and  ever  were,  very  commendable.  Accommo- 
dated ! — it  comes  from  accommodo :  very  good  ;  a 
good  phrase  3. 

*  Folio  gives  Good  morrow,  honest  gentlemen,  to  Shallow. 

3  —  very  good  ;  a  good  phrase,  &c.]  Accommodate  was  a 
modish  term  of  that  time,  as  Ben  Jonson  informs  us  :  "  You  are 
not  to  cast  or  wring  for  the  perfumed  terms  of  the  time,  as  ac- 
commodation, complement,  spirit,  &c.  but  use  them  properly  in 
their  places  as  others."  Discoveries.  Hence  Bardolph  calls  it  a 
word  of  exceeding  good  command.  His  definiton  of  it  is  admirable, 
and  highly  satirical :  nothing  being  more  common  than  for  in- 
accurate speakers  or  writers,  when  they  should  define,  to  put  their 
hearers  off  with  a  synonymous  term  ;  or,  for  want  of  that,  even 
with  the  same  term  differently  accommodated  :  as  in  the  instance 
before  us.     War  burton. 

The  same  word  occurs  in  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his 
Humour  : 


122  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

Barb.  Pardon  me,  sir ;  I  have  heard  the  word. 
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  ex- 
ceeding good  command.  Accommodated  ;  That 
is,  when  a  man  is,  as  they  say,  accommodated  :  or, 
when  a  man  is, — being, — whereby, — he  may  be 
thought  to  be  accommodated  ;  which  is  an  excel- 
lent thing. 

Enter  Falstaff. 

Shal.  It  is  very  just : — Look,  here  comes  good 
sir  John. — Give  me  your  good  hand,  give  me  your 
worship's  good  hand  :  By  my  troth,  you  look  well, 
and  bear  your  years  very  well :  welcome,  good  sir 
John. 

Fal.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well,  good  master 
Robert  Shallow  : — Master  Sure-card,  as  I  think4. 

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. 

Fal.  Fye!  this  is  hot  weather. — Gentlemen, 
have  you  provided  me  here  half  a  dozen  sufficient 
men  ? 

Shal.  Marry,  have  we,  sir.     Will  you  sit  ? 

Fal.  Let  me  see  them,  I  beseech  you. 

Shal.    Where's    the    roll  ?     where's    the   roll  ? 


"  Hostess,  accommodate  us  with  another  bedstaff : 

"  The  woman  does  not  understand  the  iwrds  of  action." 

Steevens. 
4  —  Master  Sure-card,  as  I  think.]  It  is  observable,  that 
many  of  Shakspeare's  names  are  invented,  and  characteristical. 
Master  Forth-right,  the  tilter ;  Master  Shoe-tie,  the  traveller; 
Master  Smooth,  the  silkman ;  Mrs.  Over-done,  the  bawd ;  Kate 
Keep-down,  Jane  Night-work,  &c.  Sure-card  was  used  as  a  term 
for  a  boon  companion,  so  lately  as  the  latter  end  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, by  one  of  the  translators  of  Suetonius.     Malone. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  123 

where's  the  roll  ? — Let  me  see,  let  me  see.  So,  so, 
so,  so:  Yea,  marry,  sir: — Ralph  Mouldy: — let 
them  appear  as  I  call;  let  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? 

Moul.  Yea,  an't  please  you. 

Fal.  'Tis  the  more  time  thou  wert  used. 

Shal.  Ha,  ha,  ha  I  most  excellent,  i'  faith ! 
things,  that  are  mouldy,  lack  use:  Very  singular 
good ! — In  faith,  well  said,  sir  John  ;  very  well  said. 

Fal.  Prick  him.  [To  S hallo fr. 

Moul.  I  was  pricked  well  enough  before,  an  you 
could  have  let  me  alone :  my  old  dame  will  be  un- 
done 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. 

Moul.  Spent ! 

Shal.  Peace,  fellow,  peace  ;  stand  aside  :  Know 
you  where  you  are  ? — For  the  other,  sir  John : — 
let  me  see ; — Simon  Shadow ! 

Fal.  Ay  marry,  let  me  have  him  to  sit  under: 
he's  like  to  be  a  cold  soldier. 

Shal.  Where's  Shadow. 

Shad.  Here,  sir. 

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 
shadow  of  the  male:  It  is  often  so,  indeed;  but 
not  much  of  the  father's  substance. 

Shal.  Do  you  like  him,  sir  John  ? 

Fal.  Shadow  will  serve  for  summer,  prick  him; 


J  24  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

—for  we  have  a  number  of  shadows  to  fill  up  the 
muster-book 5. 

Shal.  Thomas  Wart ! 

Fal.  Where's  he  ? 

Wart.  Here,  sir. 

Fal.  Is  thy  name  Wart  ? 

Wart.  Yea,  sir. 

Fal.  Thou  art  a  very  ragged  wart. 

Shal.  Shall  I  prick  him,  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  ? 

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  would  have  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. 

Fal.  Well  said,  good  woman's  tailor  !  well  said, 
courageous  Feeble  !  Thou  will  be  as  valiant  as  the 
wrathful  dove,  or  most  magnanimous  mouse. — Prick 
the  woman's  tailor  well,  master  Shallow ;  deep, 
master  Shallow. 


s  —  we  have  a  number  of  shadows  to  fill  up  the  muster-book.] 
That  is,  we  have  in  the  muster-book  many  names  for  which  we 
receive  pay,  though  we  have  not  the  men.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Barnabie  Riche's  Souldiers  Wishe  to  Britons  Welfare,  or 
Captaine  Skill  and  Captaine  Pill,  160*,  p.  19:  "  One  speciall 
meane  that  a  shifting  captaine  hath  to  deceive  his  prince,  is  in  his 
number,  to  take  pay  for  a  whole  company,  when  he  hath  not 
halfe."     Steevens. 

6 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  125 

Fee.  I  would,  Wart  might  have  gone,  sir. 

Fal.  I  would,  thou  wert  a  man's  tailor;  that 
thou  might'st  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. 

Fee.  It  shall  suffice,  sir. 

Fal.  I  am  bound  to  thee,  reverend  Feeble. — 
Who  is  next  ? 

Shal.  Peter  Bull-calf  of  the  green ! 

Fal.  Yea,  marry,  let  us  see  Bull-calf. 

Bull.  Here,  sir. 

Fal.  'Fore  God,  a  likely  fellow! — Come,  prick 
me  Bull-calf  till  he  roar  again. 

Bull.  O  lord!  good  my  lord  captain, — 

Fal.  What,  dost  thou  roar  before  thou  art 
pricked  ? 

Bull.  O  lord,  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 
order6,  that  thy  friends  shall  ring  for  thee. —  Is  here 
all? 

Shal.  Here  is  two  more  called  than  your  num- 
ber 7 ;  you  must  have  but  four  here,  sir ; — and  so, 
I  pray  you,  go  in  with  me  to  dinner. 

6  —  take  such  order,]  i.  e.  take  such  measures.  So,  in 
Othello  : 

"  Honest  Iago  hath  td'en  order  for't."     Steevens. 

7  Here  is  two  more  called  than  your  number ;]  Five  only  have 
been  called,  and  the  number  required  \sjbur.  Some  name  seems 
to  have  been  omitted  by  the  transcriber.  The  restoration  of  this 
sixth  man  would  solve  the  difficulty  that  occurs  below ;  for  when 
Mouldy  and  Bull-calf  are  set  aside,  Falstaff,  as  Dr.  Farmer  has 
observed,  gets  but  three  recruits.  Perhaps  our  author  himself  is 
answerable  for  this  slight  inaccuracy.     Malone. 

Mr.  Capell  omits  the  word  two.     Boswell. 


126  SECOND  PART  OF  ' act  iit. 

Fal.  Come,  I  will  go  drink  with  you,  but  I  can- 
not tarry  dinner.  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  in  good 
troth,  master  Shallow. 

8 hal.  O,  sir  John,  do  you  remember  since  we 
lay  all  night  in  the  windmill  in  Saint  George's 
fields8. 

Fal.  No  more  of  that,  good  master  Shallow, 
no  more  of  that. 

Shal.  Ha,  it  was  a  merry  night.  And  is  Jane 
Night-work  alive  ? 

Fal.  She  lives,  master  Shallow. 

Shal.  She  never  could  away  with  me 9. 

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-roba1.  Doth  she  hold 
her  own  well. 

Fal.  Old,  old,  master  Shallow. 


8  —  the  windmill  in  Saint  George's  fields.]  It  appears  from 
the  following  passage  in  Churchyard's  Dreame,  a  poem  that  makes 
part  of  the  collection  entitled  his  Chippes,  4to.  1578,  that  this 
windmill  was  a  place  of  notoriety : 

"  And  from  the  windmill  this  dreamd  he, 

"  Where  hakney  horses  hired  be."     Steevens. 

9  She  never  could  away  with  me.]  This  expression  of  dislike 
is  used  by  Maurice  Kyffin,  in  his  translation  of  the  Andria  of 
Terence,  1588  :  "  All  men  that  be  in  love  can  ill  away  to  have 
wives  appointed  them  by  others."  Perhaps  the  original  meaning 
was — '  such  a  one  cannot  travel  on  the  same  road  with  me.' 

Steevens. 
So,  in  Harrington's  Orlando  Furioso,  book  i. : 

" scarce  to  look  on  him  she  can  away"     Malone. 

This  mode  of  expression  had  not  become  obsolete  even  in  the 
time  of  Mr.  Locke,  who  himself  uses  it  in  one  of  his  popular 
works  :  "  —  with  those  alone  he  converses,  and  can  away  with 
no  company  whose  discourse  goes  beyond  what  claret  or  disso- 
luteness inspires."     On  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding. 

Reed. 
1  —bona-roba.]     A  fine  showy  wanton.     Johnson. 
Bona-roba  was,  in   our  author's  time,  the  common  term  for  a 
harlot.     It  is  used  in  that  sense  by  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Every  Man 
out  of  his  Humour,  and  by  many  others.     Steevens. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  127 

Shai,.  Nay,  she  must  be  old  ;  she  cannot  choose 
but  be  old ;  certain,  she's  old ;  and  had  Robin 
Night- work  by  old  Night- work,  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'2? 

Fal.  We  have  heard  the  chimes  at  midnight3, 
master  Shallow. 

Shal.  That  we  have,  that  we  have,  that  we 
have ;  in  faith,  sir  John,  we  have  ;  our  watch-word 
was,  Hem,  boys! — Come,  let's  to  dinner;  come, 
let's  to  dinner : — O,  the  days  that  we  have  seen ! — 
Come,  come. 

[Exeunt  Falstaff,  Shallow,  and  Silence. 

Bull.  Good  master  corporate  Bardolph,  stand 
my  friend ;  and  here  is  four  Harry  ten  shillings  in 
French  crowns  for  you 4.  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,  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. 

Moul.  And  good  master  corporal  captain,  for 
my  old  dame's  sake,  stand  my  friend  :  she  has  no- 
body to  do  any  thing  about  her,  when  I  am  gone  ; 

*  —  said  I  well  ?]  This  phrase  has  already  occurred  in  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.     See  vol.  viii.  p.  34-,  n.  1.     Steevens. 

3  —  the  chimes  at  midnight,]  So,  in  the  second  part  of  an  an- 
cient song  entitled  A  Bill  of  Fare,  &c.  bl.  1. : 

"  We  rose  from  our  mirth  with  the  twelve  o'clock  chimes." 

Steevens. 

4  —  here  is  four  Harry  ten  shillings  in  French  crowns  for 
you.]  This  is  an  anachronism  ;  there  were  no  coins  of  ten  shil- 
lings value  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  Shakspeare's 
Harry  ten  shillings  were  those  of  Henry  the  Seventh  or  Eighth  ; 
but  he  thought  those  might  do  for  any  other  Henry.     Douce. 


128  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

and  she  is  old,  and  cannot  help  herself :  you  shall 
have  forty,  sir. 

Bard.  Go  to ;  stand  aside. 

Fee.  By  my  troth,  I  care  not;  a  man  can  die  but 
once ; — we  owe  God  a  death ;  I'll  ne'er  bear  a  base 
mind : — an't  be  my  destiny,  so ;  an't  be  not,  so : 
No  man's  too  good  to  serve  his  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'll  bear  no  base  mind. 

Re-enter  Falstaff,  and  Justices. 

Fal.  Come,  sir,  which  men  shall  I  have  ? 

8 hal.  Four,  of  which  you  please. 

Bard.  Sir,  a  word  with  you: — I  have  three 
pound  4  to  free  Mouldy  and  Bull-calf. 

Fal.  Go  to  ;  well. 

Shal.  Come,  sir  John,  which  four  will  you  have  ? 

Fal.  Do  you  choose  for  me. 

Shal.  Marry  then, — Mouldy,  Bull-calf,  Feeble, 
and  Shadow. 

Fal.  Mouldy,  and  Bull-calf : — For  you,  Mouldy, 
stay  at  home  till  you  are  past  service 5 : — and,  for 

*•  I  have  three  pound  — "]  Here  seems  to  be  a  wrong  computa- 
tion. He  had  forty  shillings  for  each.  Perhaps  he  meant  to 
conceal  part  of  the  profit.     Johnson. 

5  —  For  you,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home  still  ;  you  are  past  ser- 
vice :]  The  old  copies  read — "  For  you,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home 
till  you  are  past  service."     Steevens. 

This  should  surely  be  :  "  For  you,  Mouldy,  you  have  stated  at 
home,"  &c.  Falstaff  has  before  a  similar  allusion  :  "  'Tis  the 
more  time  thou  wert  used." 

There  is  some  mistake  in  the  number  of  recruits :  Shallow  says, 
that  Falstaff  should  have  Jour  there,  but  he  appears  to  get  but 
three:  Wart,  Shadow,  and  Feeble."     Farmer. 

See  p.  125,  n.  7.  I  believe,  "  stay  at  home  till  you  are  past 
service  "  is  right ;  the  subsequent  part  of  the  sentence  being  like- 
wise imperative :  "  and,  for  your  part,  Bull-calf,  grow  till  you 
come  unto  it."     Malone. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  129 

your  part,  Bull-calf, — grow  till  you  come  unto  it ; 
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  6, 
the  stature,  bulk,  and  big  assemblance  of  a  man 7 ! 
Give  me  the  spirit,  master  Shallow. — Here's  Wart ; 
— you  see  what  a  ragged  appearance  it  is :  he  shall 
charge  you,  and  discharge  you,  with  the  motion  of 
a  pewterer's  hammer ;  come  off,  and  on,  swifter 
than  he  that  gibbets-on  the  brewer's  bucket 8.  And 


Perhaps  this  passage  should  be  read  and  pointed  thus  :  "  For 

you,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home  still ;  you  are  past  service ." 

Tyrwhitt. 

I  have  admitted  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  amendment,  as  it  is  the  least 
violent  of  the  two  proposed,  being  effected  by  a  slight  change  in 
punctuation,  and  the  supplement  of  a  single  letter.     Steevens. 

6  —  the  thewes,]  i.  e.  the  muscular  strength  or  appearance 
of  manhood.     So,  again  : 

"  For  nature  crescent,  does  not  grow  alone 
"  In  thewes  and  bulk." 
In  ancient  writers  this  term  usually  implies  manners,  or  beha- 
viour only.     Spenser  often  employs  it ;  and  I  find  it  likewise  in 
Gascoigne's  Glass  of  Government,  1575: 

**  And  honour'd  more  than  bees  of  better  thewes." 
Shakspeare  is  perhaps  singular  in  his  application  of  it  to  the 
perfections  of  the  body.     The  following  passage,   however,    in 
Turberville's  translation  of  Ovid's  Epistle  from  Paris  to  Helen, 
leaves  the  question  undecided  : 

"  What  doost  thou  thinke  indeede 

"  that  doltish  silly  man 
"  The  thewes  of  Helen's  passing  forme 

"  may  judge  or  throughly  scan  ?  "     Steevens. 

7  — assemblance  of  a  man  !]  Thus  the  old  copies.  The 
modern  editors  read — assemblage.     Steevens. 

8  —  swifter  than  he  that  gibbets-on   the  brewer's   bucket.  ] 
Swifter  than  he  that  carries  beer  from  the  vat  to  the  barrel,  in 
buckets  hung  upon  a  gibbet  or  beam  crossing  his  shoulders. 

Johnson. 
I  do  not  think  Johnson's  explanation  of  this  passage  just. — 
VOL.  XVII.  K 


130  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

this  same  half-faced  fellow,  Shadow, — give  me  this 
man  ;  he  presents  no  mark  to  the  enemy ;  the  foe- 
man  9  may  with  as  great  aim  level  at  the  edge  of 
a  penknife :  And,  for  a  retreat, — 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  caliver1  into  Wart's  hand,  Bardolph. 


The  carryingbeer  from  the  vat  to  the  barrel,  must  be  a  matter  that 
requires  more  labour  than  swiftness.  Falstaff  seems  to  mean, 
"  swifter  than  he  that  puts  the  buckets  on  the  gibbet ;  "  for  as  the 
buckets  at  each  end  of  the  gibbet  must  be  put  on  at  the  same  in- 
stant, it  necessarily  requires  a  quick  motion.     M.  Mason. 

9  —  fo'eman  — ]  This  is  an  obsolete  term  for  an  enemy  in  war. 

Steevens. 

So,  in  Selimus,  1594  : 

"  For  he  that  never  saw  his Jbeman's  face, 

"  But  alwaies  slept  upon  a  ladies  lap,"  &c.    Henderson. 

1  —caliver — ]     A  hand-gun.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Masque  of  Flowers,  1613 :  "  The  serjeant  of 
Kawasha  carried  on  his  shoulders  a  great  tobacco-pipe  as  big  as  a 
caliver" 

It  is  singular  that  Shakspeare,  who  has  so  often  derived  his 
sources  of  merriment  from  recent  customs  or  fashionable  follies, 
should  not  once  have  mentioned  tobacco,  though  at  a  time  when 
all  his  contemporaries  were  active  in  its  praise  or  its  condemna- 
tion. 

It  is  equally  remarkable  (as  Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me)  that 
he  has  written  no  lines  on  the  death  of  any  poetical  friend,  nor 
commendatory  verses  on  any  living  author,  which  was  the  con- 
stant practice  of  Jonson,  Fletcher,  &c.  Perhaps  the  singular 
modesty  of  Shakspeare  hindered  him  from  attempting  to  decide 
on  the  merits  of  others,  while  his  liberal  turn  of  mind  forbade 
him  to  express  such  gross  and  indiscriminate  praises  as  too  often 
disgrace  the  names  of  many  of  his  contemporaries.  Our  author, 
indeed,  seems  to  condemn  this  practice,  through  a  sentiment 
given  to  Rosaline,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  where,  speaking  of 
the  Princess,  she  says  : 

"  My  lady  {to  the  manner  of  these  days) 

"  In  courtesy,  gives  undeserving  praise."     Steevens. 

Mr.  Grose,  in  A  Treatise  on  ancient  Armour  and  Weapons, 
4to.  p,  67,  says :  "  That  a  caliver  was  less  and  lighter  than  a 
musquet,  as  is  evident  from  its  being  fired  without  a  rest.  This 
is  shown  in  a  Military  Treatise,  containing  the  Exercise  of  the 
Musket,    Caliver,    and  Pike,    with  figures  finely  engraved   by 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  131 

Bard.  Hold,  Wart,  traverse2;  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,  chapped,  bald 
shot 3. — Well  said,  i'  faith,  Wart ;  thou'rt  a  good 
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 4,  (when 

J.  de  Gheyn."  And,  in  a  note  in  loc.  Mr.  Grose  also  observes, 
"  That  this  is  confirmed  by  Shakspeare,  where  Falstaff,  review- 
ing his  recruits,  says  of  Wart,  a  poor,  weak,  undersized  fellow, 
*  put  me  a  caliver  into  Wart's  hands,' — meaning,  that  although 
Wart  is  unfit  for  a  musqueteer,  yet,  if  armed  with  a  lighter  piece, 
he  may  do  good  service."     Vaillant. 

The  accent  of  this  word  was  laid  on  the  second  syllable.  So, 
in  Withers's  Abuses  Whipt  and  Stript : 

**  Both  musquet  and  caliver  are  forgot."     Malone. 

2  —  traverse  — ]  An  ancient  term  in  military  exercise.  So, 
in  Othello : 

"  Traverse;  go;  provide  thy  money."     Steevens. 

3  —  bald  shot.]  Shot  is  used  for  shooter,  one  who  is  to  fight 
by  shooting.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Exercise  of  Armes  for  Calivres,  Muskettes,  and 
Pykes,  1619 :  <(  First  of  all  is  in  this  figure  showed  to  every 
shot  how  he  shall  stand  and  marche,  and  carry  his  caliver,'"'  &c. 
With  this  instance  I  was  furnished  by  Dr.  Farmer.  We  still  say 
of  a  skilful  sportsman  or  game-keeper  that  he  is  a  good  shot. 

Steevens. 

Again,  in  Stowe's  Annales,  1631:  "  —  men  with  armour, 
ensignes,  drums,  fifes,  and  other  furniture  for  the  wars,  the 
greater  part  whereof  were  shot,  and  other  were  pikes  and  halberts, 
in  faire  corslets."     Malone. 

4  —  Mile-end  green,]  We  learn  from  Stowe's  Chronicle, 
(edit.  1615,  p.  702,)  that  in  the  year  1585,  4000  citizens  were 
trained  and  exercised  at  Mile-end.  It  appears,  however,  that 
the  pupils  of  this  military  school  were  but  slightly  thought  of ; 
for,  in  Barnabie  Riche's  Souldiers  Wishe,  to  Britons  Welfare,  or 
Captaine  Skill  and  Captaine  Pill,  1604-,  is  the  following  passage  : 
*•  Skill.  God  blesse  me,  my  countrey,  and  frendes,  from  his  direc- 
tion that  hath  no  better  experience  than  what  hee  hath  atteyned 
unto  at  the  fetching  home  of  a  Maye-pole,  at  a  Midsomer  sighte, 
or  from  a  training  at  Mile-end-greene."     Steevens. 

From  the  same  Chronicle,  p.  789,  edit.  1631,  it  appears  that 
"  thirty  thousand  citizens— shewed  on  the  27th  of  August,  1599, 

K  2 


132  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

I  lay  at  Clement's  inn 5,) — I  was  then  sir  Dagonet 
in  Arthur's  show 6,  there  was  a  little  quiver  fellow7, 


on  the  Miles-end,  where  they  trained  all  that  day,  and  other 
dayes,  under  their  captaines,  (also  citizens,)  until  the  4th  of 
September."     Malone. 

5  I  remember  at  Mile-end  green,  (when  I  lay  at  Clement's- 
inn,]  "  When  I  lay"  here  signifies,  when  I  lodged  or  lived.  So 
Leland  :  "  An  old  manor  place  where  in  tymes  paste  sum  of  the 
Moulbrays  lay  for  a  starte  ;  "  i.  e.  lived  for  a  time,  or  sometimes. 
Itin.  vol.  i.  fol.  119.     T.  Warton. 

Again,  in  Maston's  What  You  Will,  a  comedy,  1607  : 
*?  Survey'd  with  wonder  by  me,  when  I  lay 
"  Factor  in  London."     Malone. 

6  —  I  was  then  sir  Dagonet  in  Arthur's  show,]  The  story 
of  Sir  Dagonet  is  to  be  found  in  La  Morte  d'Arthure,  an  old 
romance  much  celebrated  in  our  author's  time,  or  a  little  before 
it.  "  When  papistry  (says  Ascham,  in  his  Schoolmaster,)  as  a 
standing  pool,  overflowed  all  England,  few  books  were  read  in 
our  tongue,  saving  certaine  books  of  chivalry,  as  they  said,  for 
pastime  and  pleasure ;  which  books,  as  some  say,  were  made  in 
monasteries  by  idle  monks.  As  one  for  example  La  Mort 
d'Arthure."  In  this  romance  Sir  Dagonet  is  King  Arthur's  fool. 
Shakspeare  would  not  have  shown  his  justice  capable  of  repre- 
senting any  higher  character.     Johnson. 

Sir  Dagonet  is  King  Arthur's  'squire  ;  but  does  he  mean  that 
he  acted  Sir  Dagonet  at  Mile-end  Green,  or  at  Clement's-inn  ? 
By  the  application  of  a  parenthesis  only,  the  passage  will  be 
cleared  from  ambiguity,  and  the  sense  I  would  assign  will  appear 
to  be  just. — "  I  remember  at  Mile-end  Green  (when  I  lay  at 
Clement's-inn,  I  was  then  Sir  Dagonet  in  Arthur's  show)  there 
was,"  &c.  That  is  :  "I  remember  when  I  was  a  very  young  man 
at  Clement's-inn,  and  not  fit  to  act  any  higher  part  than  Sir 
Dagonet  in  the  interludes  which  we  used  to  play  in  the  society, 
that  among  the  soldiers  who  were  exercised  at  Mile-end  Green, 
there  was,"  &c.  The  performance  of  this  part  of  Sir  Dagonet 
was  another  of  Shallow's  feats  at  Clement's-inn,  on  which  he 
delights  to  expatiate  ;  a  circumstance,  in  the  mean  time,  quite 
foreign  to  the  purpose  of  what  he  is  saying,  but  introduced,  on 
that  account,  to  heighten  the  ridicule  of  his  character.  Just  as 
he  had  told  Silence,  a  little  before,  that  he  saw  Scogan's  head 
broke  by  Falstaff  at  the  court-gate,  "and  the  very  same  day,  I 
did  fight  with  one  Sampson  Stockfish,  a  fruiterer,  behind  Gray's- 
inn."  Not  to  mention  the  satire  implied  in  making  Shallow  act 
Sir  Dagonet,  who  was  King  Arthur's  fool.  Arthur's  show,  here 
supposed  to  have  been  presented  at  Clement's-inn,  was  probably 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  133 

and  'a  would  manage  you  his  piece  thus :  and  'a 
would  about,  and  about,  and  come  you  in,  and 

an  interlude,  or  masque,  which  actually  existed,  and  was  very 
popular  in  Shakspeare's  age :  and  seems  to  have  been  compiled 
from  Mallory's  Morte  Arthur,  or  the  History  of  King  Arthur, 
then  recently  published,  and  the  favourite  and  most  fashionable 
romance. 

That  "  Mile-end  Green  "  was  the  place  for  public  sports  and 
exercises,  we  learn  from  Froissart. 

Theobald  remarks  on  this  passage :  "  The  only  intelligence  I 
have  gleaned  of  this  worthy  knight  (Sir  Dagonet)  is  from  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher,  in  their  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle." 

The  commentators  on  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the 
Burning  Pestle  have  not  observed  that  the  design  of  that  play 
is  founded  upon  a  comedy  called  The  Four  Prentices  of  London, 
with  the  Conquest  of  Jerusalem ;  as  it  hath  been  diverse  Times 
acted  at  the  Red  Bull,  by  the  Queen's  Majesty's  Servants. 
Written  by  Thomas  Heywood,  1613.  For  as  in  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  play,  a  grocer  in  the  Strand  turns  knight-errant,  mak- 
ing his  apprentice  his  'squire,  &c.  so  in  Heywood's  play,  four 
apprentices  accoutre  themselves  as  knights,  and  go  to  Jerusalem 
in  quest  of  adventures.  One  of  them,  the  most  important  cha- 
racter, is  a  goldsmith,  another  a  grocer,  another  a  mercer,  and  a 
fourth  an  haberdasher.  But  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  play, 
though  founded  upon  it,  contains  many  satirical  strokes  against 
Heywood's  comedy,  the  force  of  which  are  entirely  lost  to  those 
who  have  not  seen  that  comedy. 

Thus,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Prologue,  or  first  scene,  a 
citizen  is  introduced,  declaring  that,  in  the  play,  he  "  will  have 
a  grocer,  and  he  shall  do  admirable  things." 

Again,  Act  I.  Sc.  I.  Rafe  says  :  "  Amongst  all  the  worthy 
books  of  achievements,  I  do  not  call  to  mind  that  I  have  yet 
read  of  a  grocer-errant :  I  will  be  the  said  knight.  Have  you 
heard  of  any  that  hath  wandered  unfurnished  of  his  'squire  and 
dwarf?  My  elder  brother  Tim  shall  be  my  trusty  'squire,  and 
George  my  dwarf." 

In  the  following  passage  the  allusion  to  Heywood's  comedy  is 
demonstrably  manifest,  Act  IV.  Sc.  1. : 

"  Boy.  It  will  show  ill-favouredly  to  have  a  grocer's  prentice 
court  a  king's  daughter. 

**  Cit.  Will  it  so,  sir?  You  are  well  read  in  histories;  I  pray 
you  who  was  Sir  Dagonet  ?  Was  he  not  prentice  to  a  grocer  in 
London  ?  Read  the  play  of  The  Four  Prentices,  where  they  toss 
their  pikes  so." 

In  Heywood's  comedy,  Eustace,  the  grocer's  prentice,  is  in- 
troduced, courting  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  France  ;  and  in 


134  SECOND  PART  OF  act  m. 

come  you  in :  rah,  tah,  tah,  would  'a  say ;  bounce, 
would  'a  say ;  and   away  again  would  'a  go,  and 


the  frontispiece  the  four  prentices  are  represented  in  armour, 
tilting  with  javelins. 

Immediately  before  the  last  quoted  speeches  we  have  the  fol- 
lowing instances  of  allusion : 

**  Cit.  Let  the  Sophy  of  Persia  come,  and  christen  him  a 
child." 

' *  Boy.  Believe  me,  sir,  that  will  not  do  so  well ;  'tis  flat ;  it 
has  been  before  at  the  Red  Bull." 

A  circumstance  in  Heywood's  comedy,,  which,  as  has  been 
already  specified,  was  acted  at  the  Red  Bull.  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  play  is  pure  burlesque.  Heywood's  is  a  mixture  of  the 
droll  and  serious,  and  was  evidently  intended  to  ridicule  the 
reigning  fashion  of  reading  romances.     T.  Warton. 

This  account  of  the  matter  was  so  reasonable,  that  I  believe 
every  reader  must  have  been  satisfied  with  it ;  but  a  passage  in  a 
forgotten  book,  which  has  been  obligingly  communicated  to 
me  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Bowie,  induces  me  to  think  that  the 
words  before  us  have  hitherto  been  misunderstood  ;  that  Arthur's 
Show  was  not  an  interlude,  but  an  Exhibition  of  Archery; 
and  that  Shallow  represented  Sir  Dagonet,  not  at  Clement's 
Inn,  but  at  Mile-end  Green.  Instead  therefore  of  placing  the 
words  "  I  was  then  Sir  Dagonet  in  Arthur's  show,"  in  a  paren- 
thesis, (as  recommended  very  properly  by  Mr.  Warton  on  his 
hypothesis,)  I  have  included  in  a  parenthesis  the  words  "  when  I 
lay  at  Clement's  Inn."  And  thus  the  meaning  is, — I  remember, 
when  I  was  student  and  resided  at  Clement's  Inn,  that  on  a  certain 
exhibition-day  at  Mile-end  Green,  when  I  was  Sir  Dagonet,  &c. 

"  A  society  of  men,  (I  now  use  the  words  of  Mr.  Bowie,) 
styling  themselves  Arthur's  Knights,  existed  in  our  poet's  time. 
Richard  Mulcaster,  Master  of  St.  Paul's  School,  in  his  Positions 
concerning  the  training  up  of  Children,  twice  printed  in  London, 
1581  and!587,  in  4to.  (my  copy  wants  the  title,)  ch.  xxvi.  in 
praising  of  Archerie  as  a  principal  exercise  to  the  preservation  of 
health,  says, — '  how  can  I  but  prayse  them,  who  professe  it  tho- 
roughly, and  maintaine  it  nobly,  the  friendly  and  frank  fellow- 
ship of  Prince  Arthur's  Knights,  in  and  about  the  citie  of  London  ? 
which  if  I  had  sacred  to  silence,  would  not  my  good  friend  in  the 
citie,  Maister  Hewgh  Offly,  and  the  same  my  noble  fellow  in  that 
order,  Syr  Launcelot,  at  our  next  meeting  have  given  me  a  soure 
nodde,  being  the  chief  furtherer  of  the  fact  which  I  commend, 
and  the  famousest  knight  of  the  fellowship  which  I  am  of?  Nay, 
would  not  even  Prince  Arthur  himselfe,  Maister  Thomas  Smith, 
and  the  whole  table  of  those  well  known  knights,  and  most  active 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  135 

again  would  a'  come : — I  shall  never  see  such  a 
fellow. 

Fal.  These  fellows  will  do  well,  master  Shallow. 
— God  keep  you,  master  Silence;  I  will  not  use 
many  words  with  you  : — Fare  you  well,  gentlemen 
both :  I  thank  you :  I  must  a  dozen  mile  to-night. — 
Bardolph,  give  the  soldiers  coats. 

Shal.  Sir  John,  heaven  bless  you,  and  prosper 
your  affairs,  and  send  us  peace !  As  you  return,  visit 


archers,  have  laid  in  their  challenge  against  their  fellow-knight, 
if  speaking  of  their  pastime  I  should  have  spared  their  names  ?  * 
This  quotation  (adds  Mr.  Bowie)  rescues  three  of  them  from 
oblivion ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  presumed  that  the  tvhole  table  of 
these  well  known  knights,  most  probably  pretty  numerous,  could 
escape  the  knowledge  of  Shakspeare. — Maister  Hewgh  Offly  was 
sheriff  of  London  in  1588." 

The  passage  above  quoted  places  Shallow's  words  in  so  clear  a 
light  that  they  leave  me  little  to  add  upon  the  subject.  We  see 
that  though  he  is  apt  enough  to  introduce  frivolous  and  foreign 
circumstances,  the  mention  of  Sir  Dagonet  here,  is  not  of  that 
nature,  Mile-end  Green  being  probably  the  place  where  Arthur's 
knights  displayed  their  skill  in  archery,  or,  in  other  words,  where 
Arthur's  show  was  exhibited. 

Whether  this  fellowship  existed  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  is 
very  unnecessary  to  enquire.  We  see  in  almost  every  one  of  his 
plays  how  little  scrupulous  Shakspeare  was  in  ascribing  the  cus- 
toms of  his  own  time  to  preceding  ages. 

It  may  perhaps  be  objected,  that  the  "  little  quiver  fellow," 
afterwards  mentioned,  is  not  described  as  an  archer,  but  as  ma- 
naging a  piece;  but  various  exercises  might  have  been  practised 
at  the  same  time  at  Mile-end  Green.  If,  however,  this  objection 
should  appear  to  the  reader  of  any  weight,  by  extending  the 
parenthesis  to  the  Words — "  Arthur's  Show,"  it  is  obviated  ;  for 
Shallow  might  have  resided  at  Clement's  Inn,  and  displayed  his 
feats  of  archery  in  Arthur  s  show  elsewhere,  not  on  the  day  here 
alluded  to.  The  meaning  will  then  be,  I  remember  when  I 
resided  at  Clement's  Inn,  and  in  the  exhibition  of  archery  made 
by  Arthur's  knights  I  used  to  represent  Sir  Dagonet,  that  among 
the  soldiers  exercised  at  Mile-end  Green,  there  was,  &c.    Malone. 

7  —  a  little  auivER  fellow,]  Quiver  is  nimble,  active,  &c. 
"  There  is  a  maner  fishe  that  hyght  mugill,  which  is  full  quiver 
and  swifte."     Bartholomeus,  1535,  bl.  I.     Henderson. 


136  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

my  house  ;  let  our  old  acquaintance  be  renewed  : 
peradventure,  I  will  with  you  to  the  court. 

Fal.  1  would  you  would,  master  Shallow. 

8 hal.  Go  to;  I  have  spoke  at  a  word.  Fare 
you  well.  [Exeunt  Shallow  and  Silence. 

Fal.  Fare  you  well,  gentle  gentlemen.  On, 
Bardolph ;  lead  the  men  away.  \Exeunt  Bar- 
dolph,  Recruits,  8$c.~\  As  I  return,  I  will  fetch  off 
these  justices:  I  do  see  the  bottom  of  justice  Shal- 
low. Lord,  lord,  how  subject  we  old  men  are  to 
this  vice  of  lying  !  This  same  starved  justice  hath 
done  nothing  but  prate  to  me  of  the  wildness  of 
his  youth,  and  the  feats  he  hath  done  about  Turn- 
bull-street8;  and  every  third  word  a  lie,  duer  paid  to 
the  hearer  than  the  Turk's  tribute.  I  do  remember 
him  at  Clement's-inn,  like  a  man  made  after  supper 
of  a  cheese-paring  :  when  he  was  naked,  he  was, 
for  all  the  world,  like  a  forked  radish,  with  a  head 


8  —  about  Turnbull-street  ;]      In  an  old  comedy  called 
Ram-Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  this  street  is  mentioned  again  : 
"  You  swaggering,  cheating,  Turnbull-street  rogue." 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady:  "  Here  has 
been  such  a  hurry,  such  a  din,  such  dismal  drinking,  swearing,  &c. 
we  have  all  lived  in  a  perpetual  Turnbull-street." 

Nash,  in  Pierce  Pennilesse  his  Supplication,  commends  the  sis- 
ters of  Turnbull-street  to  the  patronage  of  the  Devil. 

Again,  in  The  Inner  Temple  Masque,  by  Middleton,  1619  : 
"  'Tis  in  your  charge  to  pull  down  bawdy-houses, 

" cause  spoil  in  Shoreditch, 

"  And  deface  Turnbull." 
Again,  in  Middleton's  comedy,  called  Any  Thing  for  a  Quiet 
Life,  a  French  bawd  says  :  "  J'ay  une  fille   qui  parle  un  peu 
Frangois ;  elle  conversera  avec  vous,  a  la  Fleur  de  Lys,  en  Turn- 
bull-street.," 

Turnbull  or  Turnmill-street,  is  near  Cow-cross,   West  Smith- 
field. 

The  continuator  of  Stowe's  Annals  informs  us  that  West  Smith- 
Jleld,  (at  present  the  horse-market,)  was  formerly  called  Ruffian's 
Hall,  where  turbulent  fellows  met  to  try  their  skill  at  sword  and 
buckler.     Steevens. 

6 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  IV.  137 

fantastically  carved  upon  it  with  a  knife :  he  was  so 
forlorn,  that  his  dimensions  to  any  thick  sight  were 
invincible  9 :  he  was  the  very  Genius  of  famine ; 
yet  lecherous  as  a  monkey,  and  the  whores  called 
him — mandrake  ' :  he  came  ever  in  the  rear-ward 

9  —  were  invincible  :]  That  is,  could  not  be  mastered  by 
any  thick  sight.  Mr.  Rowe  and  the  other  modern  editors  read, 
invisible.     M  alone. 

Invincible  cannot  possibly  be  the  true  reading;  invincible  to,  not 
being  English  ;  for  whoever  wrote  or  said — not  be  conquered  to  ? 

Invincible  by  is  the  usual  phrase  ;  though  Shakspeare,  in  Much 
Ado  About  Nothing,  makes  Don  Pedro  say,  "  I  would  have  thought 
her  spirit  had  been  invincible  against  all  assaults  of  affection  ; "  a 
sufficient  proof  that  he  would  not  have  written  "  invincible  to  a 
thick  sight."     Steevens. 

We  have  already  had  in  these  plays — guilty  to  self  wrong,  in- 
terest to  the  state,  and  a  multitude  of  other  instances  of  phraseo- 
logy which  seem  strange  to  us  now.  See  the  Essay  on  Shak- 
speare's  Phraseology.     Malone. 

Let  us  apply  Mr.  Steevens's  process  of  translation  to  invisible, 
i.  e.  cannot  be  seen  to,  and  it  will  be  equally  objectionable.  The 
fact  is,  these  verbal  adjectives  will  admit  of  either  conjunction. 
An  object  is  perceived  by,  but  it  is  perceptible  either  by  or  to  the 
sight.  We  are  wounded  by  something  ;  but  Coriolanus,  vol.  xiv. 
p.  209,  wishes  that  his  son  may  prove  to  shame  invulnerable. 

Boswell. 

1  —  call'd  him — mandrake  :]  This  appellation  will  be  some- 
what illustrated  by  the  following  passage  in  Caltha  Poetarum,  or 
the  Bumble  Bee,  composed  by  T.  Cutwode,  Esquyre,  1599.  This 
book  was  commanded  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the 
Bishop  of  London  to  be  burnt  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  the  41st  year 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  : 

"  Upon  the  place  and  ground  where  Caltha  grew, 

"  A  mightie  mandrag  there  did  Venus  plant ; 
•*  An  object  for  faire  Primula  to  view, 

"  Resembling  man  from  thighs  unto  the  shank,"  &c. 

The  rest  of  the  description  might  prove  yet  further  explana- 
tory ;  but  on  some  subjects  silence  is  less  reprehensible  than  in- 
formation. 

In  the  age  of  Shakspeare,  however,  (as  I  learn  from  Thomas 
Lupton's  Third  Booke  of  Notable  Thinges,  4to.  bl.  1.)  it  was  cus- 
tomary "  to  make  counterfeat  mandrag,  which  is  sold  by  deceyuers 
for  much  money."  Out  of  the  great  double  root  of  briony  (by 
means  of  a  process  not  worth  transcribing)  they  produced  the  kind 
of  priapic  idol  to  which  Shallow  has  been  compared.     Steevens. 

Bullein,  in  his  Bullvvark  of  Defence  against  all  Sicknesse,  &c. 


138  SECOND  PART  OF  act  m, 

of  the  fashion ;  and  sung  those  tunes  to  the  over- 
scutched2  huswives  that  he  heard  the  carmen 
whistle,  and  sware — they  were  his  fancies,  or  his 
good-nights 3.     And  now  is  this  Vice's  dagger 4  be- 

fol.  1597,  p.  41,  speaking  of  mandrake,  says:  "  —  this  hearbe  is 
called  also  anthropomorphos,  because  it  beareth  the  image  of  a 
man  ;  and  that  is  false.  For  no  herbe  hath  the  shape  of  a  man  or 
woman  ;  no  truly,  it  is  not  naturall  of  his  owne  growing :  but  by 
the  crafty  invention  of  some  false  men  it  is  done  by  arte." — "  My 
friend  Marcellus,  the  description  of  this  mandrake,  as  I  have  sayd, 
was  nothing  but  the  imposterous  subtility  of  wicked  people. 
Perhaps  of  fryers  or  supersticious  monkes  whych  have  wrytten 
thereof  at  length  ;  but  as  for  Dioscorides,  Galen,  and  Plinie,  &c. 
they  have  not  wrytten  thereof  so  largely  as  for  to  have  head,  armes, 
fyngers,"  &c.     Reed. 

See  a  former  scene  of  this  play,  p.  24,  n.  9 ;  and  Sir  Thomas 
Brown's  Vulgar  Errors,  p.  72,  edit.  1686.     Malone. 

2  —  over-scuTCHED — ]     That  is,  whipt,  carted.     Pope. 

I  rather  think  that  the  word  means  dirty  or  grimed.  The  word 
huswives  agrees  better  with  this  sense.  Shallow  crept  into  mean 
houses,  and  boasted  his  accomplishments  to  dirty  women. 

Johnson. 

Ray,  among  his  north  country  words,  says  that  an  over-switched 
huswife  is  a  strumpet.  Over-scutched  has  undoubtedly  the  mean- 
ing which  Mr.  Pope  has  affixed  to  it.  Over-scutched  is  the  same 
as  over-scotched.  A  scutch  or  scotch  is  a  cut  or  lash  with  a  rod  or 
whip.     Steevens. 

The  following  passage  in  Maroccus  Extaticus,  or  Bankes'  Bay 
Horse  in  a  Traunce,  4to.  1595,  inclines  me  to  believe  that  this 
word  is  used  in  a  wanton  sense:  " The  leacherous  landlord  hath 
his  wench  at  his  commandment,  and  is  content  to  take  ware  for  his 
money  ;  his  private  scutcherie  hurts  not  the  common-wealth  farther 
than  that  his  whoore  shall  have  a  house  rent-free."     Malone. 

3  —  fancies,  or  his  good-nights.]  Fancies  and  Good- 
nights  were  the  titles  of  little  poems.  One  of  Gascoigne's  Good- 
nights  is  published  among  his  Flowers.     Steevens. 

4  And  now  is  this  Vice's  dagger — ]  By  Vice  here  the  poet 
means  that  droll  character  in  the  old  plays  (which  I  have  several 
times  mentioned  in  the  course  of  these  notes)  equipped  with  asses 
ears  and  a  wooden  dagger.  It  was  very  satirical  in  Falstaff  to 
compare  Shallow's  activity  and  impertinence  to  such  a  machine  as 
a  wooden  dagger  in  the  hands  and  management  of  a  buffoon. 

Theobald. 

See  vol.  xi.  p.  479,  n.  9.  Steevens. 

Vice  was  the  name  given  to  a  droll  figure,  heretofore  much 
shown  upon  our  stage,  and  brought  in  to  play  the  fool  and  make 
sport  for  the  populace.     His  dress  was  always  a  long  jerkin,  a 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  139 

come  a  squire ;  and  talks  as  familiarly  of  John  of 
Gaunt,  as  if  he  had  been  sworn  brother  to  him : 


fool's  cap  with  ass's  ears,  and  a  thin  wooden  dagger,  such  as  is 
still  retained  in  the  modern  figures  of  Harlequin  and  Scaramouch. 
Minsheu,  and  others  of  our  more  modern  criticks,  strain  hard  to 
find  out  the  etymology  of  the  word,  and  fetch  it  from  the  Greek : 
probably  we  need  look  no  further  for  it  than  the  old  French  word 
Vis,  which  signified  the  same  as  Visage  does  now.  From  this  in 
part  came  Visdase,  a  word  common  among  them  for  a  fool,  which 
Menage  says  is  but  a  corruption  from  Vis  d'asne,  the  face  or  head 
of  an  ass.  It  may  be  imagined  therefore  that  Visdase,  or  Vis 
d'asne,  was  the  name  first  given  to  this  foolish  theatrical  figure, 
and  that  by  vulgar  use  it  was  shortened  to  plain  Vis  or  Vice. 

Hanmer. 

The  word  Vice  is  an  abbreviation  of  Device  ;  for  in  our  old  dra- 
matick  shows,  where  he  was  first  exhibited,  he  was  nothing  more 
than  an  artificial  figure,  a  puppet  moved  by  machinery,  and  then 
originally  called  a  Device  or  Vice.  In  these  representations  he 
was  a  constant  and  the  most  popular  character,  afterwards  adopted 
into  the  early  comedy.  The  smith's  machine  called  a  vice,  is  an 
abbreviation  of  the  same  sort. —  Hamlet  calls  his  uncle  "a  vice  of 
kings,"  afantastick  andfactitious  image  of  majesty,  a  mere  puppet 
of  royalty.     See  Jonson's  Alchymist,  Act  I.  Sc.  III. : 

"  And  on  your  stall  a  puppet  with  a  vice."     T.  Warton. 

To  each  of  the  proposed  etymologies  of  Vice  in  the  note  there 
seem  to  be  solid  objections. 

Hanmer's  derivation  from  the  French  visdase,  is  unsupported  by 
any  thing  like  authority.  This  word  occurs  in  no  ancient  French 
writer  as  a  theatrical  character,  and  has  only  been  used  by  modern 
ones  in  the  sense  of  ass  or  fool,  and  then  probably  by  corruption  ; 
there  being  good  reason  to  suppose  that  it  was  originally  a  very 
obscene  expression.  It  is  seldom,  if  ever,  that  an  English  term  is 
made  up  from  a  French  one,  unless  the  thing  itself  so  expressed 
be  likewise  borrowed ;  and  it  is  certain  that  in  the  old  French 
moralities  and  comedies  there  is  no  character  similar  to  the  Vice. 

Mr.  Warton  says  it  is  an  abbreviation  of  device,  because  in  the 
old  dramatical  shows  this  character  was  nothing  more  than  a  pup- 
pet moved  by  machinery,  and  then  originally  called  a  device.  But 
where  is  the  proof  of  these  assertions,  and  why  should  one  puppet 
in  particular  be  termed  a  device  ?  As  to  what  he  states  concern- 
ing the  name  of  the  smith's  machine,  the  answer  is,  that  it  is  im- 
mediately derived  from  the  French  vis,  a  screw,  and  neither  pro- 
bably from  device  ;  for  the  machine  in  question  is  not  more  a  de- 
vice than  many  other  mechanical  contrivances.  Mr.  Warton  has 
likewise  informed  us  that  the  vice  had  appeared  as  a  puppet  before 


140  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

and  I'll  be  sworn  he  never  saw  him  but  once  in  the 
Tilt-yard  :  and  then  he  burst  his  head 5,  for  croud- 


he  was  introduced  into  the  early  comedies ;  but  it  would  be  no 
easy  task  to  maintain  such  an  opinion.  Nor  is  it  by  any  means 
clear  that  Hamlet,  in  calling  his  uncle  a  vice,  means  to  compare 
him  to  a  puppet  ox  factitious  image  of  majesty  ;  but  rather  simply 
to  a  buffoon,  or,  as  he  afterwards  expresses  it,  a  king  of  shreds  and 
patches.  The  puppet  shows  had,  probably,  kings  as  well  as  vices 
in  their  dramas ;  and  Hamlet  might  as  well  have  called  his  uncle 
at  once,  a  puppet  king. 

What  Mr.  Steevens  has  said  on  this  subject  in  a  note  to  Twelfth 
Night,  vol.  xi.  p.  479,  deserves  a  little  more  consideration.  He 
states,  but  without  having  favoured  us  with  proof,  that  the  vice 
was  always  acted  in  a  mask  ;  herein  probably  recollecting  that  of 
the  modern  Harlequin,  the  illegitimate  successor  to  the  old  vice.  But 
the  mask  of  the  former  could  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  of  the 
latter,  if  he  really  wore  any.  Admitting  however  that  he  might, 
it  is  improbable  that  he  should  take  his  name  from  such  a  circum- 
stance ;  and  even  then,  it  would  be  unnecessary  to  resort,  with 
Mr.  Steevens,  to  the  French  word  vis,  which,  by  the  bye,  never 
signified  a  mask,  when  our  own  visard,  i.  e.  a  covering  for  the 
visage,  would  have  suited  much  better. 

A  successful  investigation  of  the  origin  and  peculiarities  of  this 
singular  theatrical  personage  would  be  a  subject  of  extreme  curio- 
sity. The  etymology  of  the  word  itself  is  all  that  we  have  here  to 
attend  to  ;  and  when  the  vicious  qualities  annexed  to  the  names  of 
the  above  character  in  our  old  dramas,  together  with  the  mis- 
chievous nature  of  his  general  conduct  and  deportment,  be  consi- 
dered, there  will  scarcely  remain  a  doubt  that  the  word  in  question 
must  be  taken  in  its  literal  and  common  acceptation.  It  may  be 
worth  vvhile  just  to  state  some  of  these  curious  appellations,  such 
as  shift,  ambidexter,  sin,  fraud,  vanity,  covetousness,  iniquity, 
prodigality,  infidelity,  inclination  ;  and  many  others  that  are  either 
entirely  lost,  or  still  lurk  amidst  the  impenetrable  stores  of  our 
ancient  dramatick  compositions.     Douce. 

5  — he  burst  his  head,]  Thus  the  folio  and  quarto.  The 
modern  editors  read  broke.  To  break  and  to  burst  were,  in  our 
poet's  time,  synonymously  used.  Thus  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Poet- 
aster, translates  the  following  passage  in  Horace  : 

fracta  pereuntes  cuspide  Gallos. 

"  The  lances  burst  in  Gallia's  slaughter'd  forces." 

So,  in  The  Old  Legend  of  Sir  Bevis  of  Hampton  : 

"  But  syr  Bevis  so  hard  him  thrust,  that  his  shoulder-bone  he 
burst." 

Again,  in  The  Second  Part  of  Tamburlaine,  1590: 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  141 

ing  among  the  marshal's  men.  I  saw  it ;  and  told 
John  of  Gaunt,  he  beat  his  own  name  G :  for  you 
might  have  truss'd  *  him,  and  all  his  apparel,  into  an 
eel-skin  ;  the  case  of  a  treble  hautboy  was  a  man- 
sion for  him,  a  court ;  and  now  has  he  land  and 
beeves.  Well ;  I  will  be  acquainted  with  him,  if  I 
return  :  and  it  shall  go  hard,  but  I  will  make  him  a 
philosopher's  two  stones  to  me 7 :  If  the  young  dace8 

*  Quartos,  thrust. 

"  Whose  chariot  wheels  have  burst  th'  Assyrian's  bones." 
Again,  in  Holinshed,  p.  809  :    "  that  manie  a  speare  was  bursty 
and  manie  a  great  stripe  given." 

To  brast  had  the  same  meaning.  Barrett,  in  his  Alvearie,  or 
Quadruple  Dictionary,  1580,  calls  a  housebreaker  "  a  breaker  and 
braster  of  doors."  The  same  author  constantly  uses  burst  as  syno- 
nymous to  broken.     See  vol.  v.  p.  358,  n.5.     Steevens. 

6  —  beat  his  own  name  :]  That  is,  beat  gaunt,  a  fellow  so 
slender,  that  his  name  might  have  been  gaunt.     Johnson. 

7  —  philosopher's  two  stones  — ]  One  of  which  was  an 
universal  medicine,  and  the  other  a  transmuter  of  base  metals 
into  gold.     Warburton. 

I  believe  the  commentator  has  refined  this  passage  too  much. 
A  philosopher's  two  stones  is  only  more  than  the  philosopher's 
stone.  The  universal  medicine  was  never,  so  far  as  I  know, 
conceived  to  be  a  stone  before  the  time  of  Butler's  stone. 

Johnson. 

Mr.  Edwards  ridicules  Dr.  Warburton's  note  on  this  passage, 
but  without  reason.  Gower  has  a  chapter  in  his  Confessio  Amantis, 
"  Of  the  three  stones  that  philosophres  made  :  "  and  Chaucer,  in 
his  tale  of  the  Chanon's  Yeman,  expressly  tells  us,  that  one  of 
them  is  Alixar  cleped;  and  that  it  is  a  water  made  of  the  four 
elements.  Face,  in  the  Alchymist,  assures  us,  it  is  "  a  stone, 
and  not  a  stone."     Farmer. 

That  the  ingredients  of  which  this  Elixir,  or  Universal  Medi- 
cine, was  composed,  were  by  no  means  difficult  of  acquisition, 
maybe  proved  by  the  following  conclusion  of  a  letter  written  by 
Villiers  Duke  of  Buckingham  to  King  James  I.  on  the  subject  of 
the  Philosopher's  Stone.  See  the  second  volume  of  Royal  Let- 
ters in  the  British  Museum,  No.  6987,  art.  101  : 

"  — —  I  confess,  so  longe  as  he  conseled  the  meanes  he 
wrought  by,  I  dispised  all  he  said  :  but  when  he  tould  me,  that 
which  he  hath  given  your  sovrainship  to  preserve  you  from  all 
sicknes  ever  hereafter,  was  extracted  out  of  a  t — d,  I  admired 
the  fellow ;  and  for  theis  reasons  :  that  being  a  stranger  to  you, 


142  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

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. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  I. 

A  Forest  in  Yorkshire. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Mowbray,  Hast- 
ings, and  Others. 

Arch.  What  is  this  forest  call'd  ? 

yett  he  had  found  out  the  kind  you  are  come  of,  and  your  natural 
affections  and  apetis :  and  so,  like  a  skillful  man,  hath  given  you 
natural  fisicke,  which  is  the  onlie  meanes  to  preserve  the  radicall 
hmrs  :  and  thus  I  conclude  :  My  sow  is  healthfull,  my  divill's 
luckie,  myself  is  happie,  and  needs  no  more  than  your  blessing, 
which  is  my  trew  Felosophers  stone,  upon  which  I  build  as  upon  a 
rocke  : 

"  Your  Majesties  most  humble  slave  and  doge 

"  Stinie." 
The  following  passage  in  Churchyard's  Commendation  to  them 
that  can  make  Gold,  &c.  1593,  will   sufficiently  prove  that  the 
Elixir  was  supposed  to  be  a  stone  before  the  time  of  Butler : 

"  ■ much  matter  may  you  read 

"  Of  this  rich  art  that  thousands  hold  full  deere  : 
"  Remundus  too,  that  long  Hud  heere  indeede, 
"  Wrate  sundry  workes,  as  well  doth  yet  appeare, 
"  Of  stone  for  gold,  and  shewed  plaine  and  cleere, 
"  A  stone  for  health.     Arnolde  wrate  of  the  same,  . 
"  And  many  more  that  were  too  long  to  name." 
Again,  in  the  Dedication  of  The  Metamorphosis  of  Pigmalion's 
Image  and  certaine  Satyres,  1598  : 

"  Or  like  that  rare  and  rich  Elixar  stone, 
"  Can  turne  to  gold  leaden  invention."     Steeveno. 
I  think  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  of  this  passage  is  the  true 
one  :  "  I  will  make  him  of  twice  the  value  of  the  philosopher's 
stone."     Malone. 

8  —  if  the  young  dace  — ]     That  is,  if  the  pike  may  prey  upon 
the  dace,  if  it  be  the  law  of  nature  that  the  stronger  may  seize 
upon  the  weaker,    Falstaff  may,    with  great  propriety,    devour 
Shallow.     Johnson. 
5 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  143 

Hast.  Tis  Gualtree  forest9,  an't  shall  please  your 
grace. 

Arch.  Here  stand,  my  lords ;  and  send  disco- 
verers forth, 
To  know  the  numbers  of  our  enemies. 

Hast.  We  have  sent  forth  already. 

Arch.  'Tis  well  done. 

My  friends  and  brethren  in  these  great  affairs, 
I  must  acquaint  you  that  I  have  receiv'd 
New-dated  letters  from  Northumberland ; 
Their  cold  intent,  tenour  and  substance,  thus : — 
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  retir'd,  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. 

Moifb.  Thus  do  the  hopes  we  have  in  him  touch 
ground, 
And  dash  themselves  to  pieces. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Hast.  Now,  what  news  ? 

Mess.  West  of  this  forest,  scarcely  off  a  mile, 
In  goodly  form  comes  on  the  enemy : 
And,  by  the  ground  they  hide,  I  judge  their  num- 
ber 
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. 

9  'Tis  Gualtree  forest,]  "  The  earle  of  Westmoreland,  &c. 
made  forward  against  the  rebels,  and  coming  into  a  plaine,  within 
Galtree  forest,  caused  their  standards  to  be  pitched  down  in  like 
sort  as  the  archbishop  had  pitched  his,  over  against  them." 

Holinshed,  p.  529.     Steevens. 

1  Let  us  sway  on,]     I  know  not  that  I  have  ever  seen  svoay 


144  SECOND  PART  OF  act iv. 

Enter  Westmoreland. 
Arch.  What  well-appointed  leader 2   fronts   us 

here  ? 
Motfb.  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, 

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 3,  guarded  with  rage  4, 

in  this  sense ;  but  I  believe  it  is  the  true  word,  and  was  intended 
to  express  the  uniform  and  forcible  motion  of  a  compact  body. 
There  is  a  sense  of  the  noun  in  Milton  kindred  to  this,  where, 
speaking  of  a  weighty  sword,  he  says,  "  It  descends  with  huge 
two-handed  sway."     Johnson. 

The  word  is  used  in  Holinshed,  English  History,  p.  986 : 
"  The  left  side  of  the  enemy  was  compelled  to  stvay  a  good  way 
back,  and  give  ground,"  &c.  Again,  in  King  Henry  VI. 
Part  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  V. : 

"  Now  sways  it  this  way,  like  a  mightie  sea, 

•*  Forc'd  by  the  tide  to  combat  with  the  wind ; 

"  Now  sways  it  that  way,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Rather  swaying  more  upon  our  part,"  &c.     Steevens. 

2  — well-appointed  leader — ]  Well-appointed  is  completely 
accoutred.     So,  in  The  Miseries  of  Queen  Margaret,  by  Drayton  : 

"  Ten  thousand  valiant,  well-appointed  men." 
Again,  in  The  Ordinary,  by  Cartwright : 

" Naked  piety 

"  Dares  more,  than  fury  well-appointed."     Steevens. 

3  Led  on  by  bloody  youth,]  I  believe  Shakspeare  wrote — 
heady  youth.     Warburton. 

Bloody  youth  is  only  sanguine  youth,  or  youth  full  of  blood, 
and  of  those  passions  which  blood  is  supposed  to  incite  or  nou- 
rish.    Johnson. 

So,  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor ;  "  Lust  is  but  a  bloody 
fire."     Malone. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  145 

And  countenanced  by  boys,  and  beggary ; 
I  say,  if  damn'd  commotion  so  appear'd 5, 
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 
With  your  fair  honours.     You,  lord  archbishop, — 
Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maintain'd  6 ; 
Whose  beard  the  silver  hand  of  peace  hath  touch'd ; 
Whose  learning  and  good  letters  peace  hath  tutor'd ; 
Whose  white  investments  figure  innocence  7, 
The  dove  and  very  blessed  spirit  of  peace, — 
Wherefore  do  you  so  ill  translate  yourself, 

4  —  guarded  with  rage,]  Guarded  is  an  expression  taken 
from  dress  ;  it  means  the  same  as  faced,  turned  up.  Mr.  Pope, 
who  has  been  followed  by  succeeding  editors,  reads  goaded. 
Guarded  is  the  reading  both  of  quarto  and  folio.  Shakspeare 
uses  the  same  expression  in  the  former  part  of  this  play : 

"  Velvet  guards  and  Sunday  citizens,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice : 

"  ■ Give  him  a  liverv 

"  More  guarded  than  his  fellows."     Steevens. 
Mr.  Steevens  is  certainly  right.     We  have  the  same  allusion  in 
a  former  part  of  this  play : 

**  To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion 

"  With  some  fine  colour,  that  may  please  the  eye 

"  Of  fickle  changelings,"  &c. 
So  again,  in  the  speech  before  us  : 

"  — —  to  dress  the  ugly  form 

"  Of  base  and  bloody  insurrection — ."     Malone. 

5  —  so  appear'd,]  Old  copies — so  appear.  Corrected  by 
Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 

6  Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maintained;]  Civil  is  grave, 
decent,  solemn.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  •  Come  civil  night, 

"  Thou  sober-suited  matron,  all  in  black."     Steevens. 

7  Whose  white  investments  figure  innocence,]  Formerly, 
(says  Dr.  Hody,  History  of  Convocations,  p.  141,)  all  bishops 
wore  white,  even  when  they  travelled.     Grey. 

By  comparing  this  passage  with  another  in  p.  91,  of  Dr.  Grey's 
notes,  we  learn  that  the  white  investment  meant  the  episcopal 
rochet ;  and  this  should  be  worn  by  the  theatrick  archbishop. 

Tollet. 

VOL.  XVII.  L 


14G  SECOND  PART  OF  act  it. 

Out  of  the  speech  of  peace,  that  bears  such  grace, 
Into  the  harsh  and  boist'rous  tongue  of  war  ? 
Turning  your  books  to  graves 8,  your  ink  to  blood, 


8  —  graves,]  For  graves  Dr.  Warburton  very  plausibly  reads 
glaives,  and  is  followed  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.     Johnson. 

We  might  perhaps  as  plausibly  read  greaves,  i.  e.  armour  for 
the  legs,  a  kind  of  boots.  In  one  of  The  Discourses  on  the  Art 
Military,  written  by  Sir  John  Smythe,  Knight,  1586,  greaves 
are  mentioned  as  necessary  to  be  worn  ;  and  Ben  Jonson  employs 
the  same  word  in  his  Hymensei : 

•'  upon  their  legs  they  wore  silver  greaves." 

Again,  in  The  Four  Prentices  of  London,  1615  : 

"  Arm'd  with  their  greaves  and  maces." 
Again,  in  the  second  Canto  of  The  Barons  Wars,  by  Drayton  : 

"  Marching  in  greaves,  a  helmet  on  her  head." 
Warner,  in  his  Albion's  England,  1602,  b.  xii.  ch.  lxix.  spells 
the  word  as  it  is  found  in  the  old  copies  of  Shakspeare  : 

"  The  taishes,  cushes,  and  the  graves,  staff,  pensell,  baises, 
all." 
I  know  not  whether  it  be  worth  adding,  that  the  ideal  metamor- 
phosis of  leathern  covers  of  books  into  greaves,  i.  e.  boots,  seems 
to  be  more  apposite  than  the  conversion  of  them  into  instruments 
of  war. 

Mr.  M.  Mason,  however,  adduces  a  quotation  (from  the  next 
scene)  which  seems  to  support  Dr.  Warburton's  conjecture  : 

"  Turning  the  word  to  sword,  and  life  to  death."  Steevens. 

The  emendation,  or  rather  interpretation,  proposed  by  Mr. 

Steevens,  appears  to  me  extremely  probable ;  yet  a  following  line, 

in  which  the  Archbishop's  again  addressed,  maybe  urged  in  favour 

of  glaives,  i.  e.  swords  : 

"  Chearing  a  rout  of  rebels  with  your  drum, 
"  Turning  the  word  to  sword,  and  life  to  death." 
The  latter  part  of  the  second  of  these  lines,  however,  may  be 
adduced  in  support  of  graves  in  its  ordinary  sense.     Mr.  Steevens 
observes,  that  "  the  metamorphosis  of  the   leathern  covers  of 
books  into  greaves,  i.  e.  boots,  seems  to  be  more  apposite  than 
the  conversion  of  them  into  such  instruments  of  war  as  glaives  ;  " 
but  surely  Shakspeare  did  not  mean,  if  he  wrote  either  greaves  or 
glaives,  that  they  actually  made  boots  or  swords  of  their  books, 
any  more  than  that  they  made  lances  of  their  pens.     The  passage 
already  quoted,  "  turning  the  word  to  sword,"  sufficiently  proves 
that  he  had  no  such  meaning.     Malonb. 

I  am  afraid  that  the  expression  "  turning  the  word  to  sword," 
will  be  found  but  a  feeble  support  for  "  glaives,"  if  it  be  con- 
sidered as  a  mere  jeu  de  mots.     Douce. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  147 

Your  pens  to  lances ;  and  your  tongue  divine 
To  a  loud  trumpet,  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,  being  infected,  died. 
But,  my  most  noble  lord  of  Westmoreland, 
I  take  not  on  me  here  as  a  physician  ; 
Nor  do  I,  as  an  enemy  to  peace, 
Troop  in  the  throngs  of  military  men  ; 
But,  rather,  show  a  while  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  we 

suffer, 
And  find  our  griefs  9  heavier  than  our  offences. 
We  see  which  way  the  stream  of  time  doth  run, 
And  are  enforc'd  from  our  most  quiet  sphere  x 

9  —our  griefs — ]  i.  e.  our  grievances.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  374, 
n.2.     Malone. 

1  And  are  enforc'd  from  our  most  quiet  sphere — ]     In  former 
editions  : 

"  And  are  enforc'd  from  our  most  quiet  there.'" 
This  is  said  in  answer  to  Westmoreland's  upbraiding  the  Arch- 
bishop for  engaging  in  a  course  which  so  ill  became  his  profes- 
sion ; 

"  — —  you,  my  lord  archbishop, 
"  Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maintain'd,"  &c. 
So  that  the  reply  must  be  this  : 

"  And  are  enforc'd  from  our  most  quiet  sphere." 

Warburton. 
The    alteration   of  Dr.  Warburton  destroys  the  sense  of  the 
passage.     There  refers  to  the  new  channel  which  the  rapidity  of 
the  flood  from  the  stream  of  time  would  force  itself  into. 

Henley. 
L  2 


148  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

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, 

And  might  by  no  suit  gain  our  audience  : 

When  we  are  wrong'd,  and  would  unfold  our  griefs, 

We  are  denied  access 2  unto  his  person 

Even  by  those  men  that  most  have  done  us  wrong. 

The  dangers  of  the  days  but  newly  gone, 

(Whose  memory  is  written  on  the  earth 

With  yet-appearing  blood,)  and  the  examples 

Of  every  minute's  instance a,  (present  now,) 

Have  put  us  in  these  ill-beseeming  arms  : 

Not  to  break  peace4,  or  any  branch  of  it ; 

But  to  establish  here  a  peace  indeed, 

Concurring  both  in  name  and  quality. 

West.  When  ever  yet  was  your  appeal  denied  ? 
Wherein  you  have  been  galled  by  the  king  ? 
What  peer  hath  been  suborn'd  to  grate  on  you  ? 
That  you  should  seal  this  lawless  bloody  book 

1  We  are  denied  access  — ]  The  Archbishop  says,  in  Holins- 
hed :  u  Where  he  and  his  companie  were  in  armes,  it  was  for 
feare  of  the  king,  to  whom  he  could  have  no  free  accesse,  by 
reason  of  such  a  multitude  of  flatterers,  as  were  about  him." 

Steevens. 

3  Of  every  minute's  instance,]  The  examples  of  an  instance 
does  not  convey,  to  me  at  least,  a  very  clear  idea.  The  frequent 
corruptions  that  occur  in  the  old  copies  in  words  of  this  kind, 
make  me  suspect  that  our  author  wrote  : 

"  Of  every  minute's  instants ." 

i.  e.  the  examples  furnished  not  only  every  minute,  but  during  the 
most  minute  division  of  a  minute. — Instance,  however,  is  else- 
where used  by  Shakspeare  for  example  ;  and  he  has  similar  pleo- 
nasms in  other  places.     Malone. 

"  Examples  of  every  minute's  instance  "  are,  I  believe,  exam- 
ples which  every  minute  supplies,  which  every  minute  presses  on 
our  notice.     Steevens. 

4  Not  to  break  peace,]  "  He  took  nothing  in  hand  against  the 
king's  peace,  but  that  whatsoever  he  did,  tended  rather  to  advance 
the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  commonwealth."  Archbishop's  speech 
in  Holinshed.     Steevens. 


SC.  I. 


KING  HENRY  IV.  149 


Of  forg'd  rebellion  with  a  seal  divine, 
And  consecrate  commotion's  bitter  edge 5  ? 

Arch.  My  brother  general,  the  commonwealth, 
To  brother  born  an  household  cruelty, 
I  make  my  quarrel  in  particular 6. 

5  And  consecrate  commotion's  bitter  edge  ?]  It  was  an  old 
custom,  continued  from  the  time  of  the  first  croisades,  for  the 
Pope  to  consecrate  the  generals  sword,  which  was  employed  in 
the  service  of  the  church.  To  this  custom  the  line  in  question 
alludes.     Warburton. 

"  —  commotion's  bitter  edge?  "  i.  e.  the  edge  of  bitter  strife 
and  commotion;  the  sword  of  rebellion.    So,  in  a  subsequent  scene  : 

"  That  the  united  vessel  of  their  blood," 
instead  of — 

"  The  vessel  of  their  united  blood."     Malone. 
This  line  is  omitted  in  the  folio.     Boswell. 

6  My  brother  general,  &c— — 

I  make  my  quarrel  in  particular.]  The  sense  is  this — 
"  My  brother  general,  the  commonwealth,  which  ought  to  dis- 
tribute its  benefits  equally,  is  become  an  enemy  to  those  of  his 
own  house,  to  brothers  born,  by  giving  some  to  all,  and  others 
none ;  and  this  (says  he)  I  make  my  quarrel  or  grievance  that 
honours  are  unequally  distributed ; "  the  constant  birth  of  male- 
contents,  and  the  source  of  civil  commotions.     Warburton. 

In  the  first  folio  the  second  line  is  omitted,  yet  that  reading, 
unintelligible  as  it  is,  has  been  followed  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.    How 
difficultly  sense  can  be  drawn  from  the  best  reading,  the  explica- 
tion of  Dr.  Warburton  may  show.     I  believe  there  is  an  error  in 
the  first  line,  which,  perhaps,  may  be  rectified  thus  : 
"  My  quarrel  general,  the  commonwealth, 
"  To  brother  born  an  household  cruelty, 
"  I  make  my  quarrel  in  particular." 
That  Is,  my  general  cause  of  discontent  is  public  mismanagement ; 
my  particular  cause,  a  domestick  injury  done  to  my  natural  bro- 
ther, who  had  been  beheaded  by  the  king's  order.     Johnson. 
This  circumstance  is  mentioned  in  the  First  Part  of  the  play; 

"  The  Archbishop who  bears  hard 

*'  His  brother's  death  at  Bristol,  the  lord  Scroop." 

Steevens. 
The  meaning  of  the  passage  appears  to  me  to  be  this — "  My 
brother-general  (meaning  Mowbray,  the  lord  Marischal)  makes 
the  misconduct  of  publick  affairs,  and  the  welfare  of  the  commu- 
nity, his  cause  of  quarrel ;  but  my  particular  cause  of  quarrel,  is 
a  family  injury,  the  cruelty  with  which  my  real  brother  has  been, 
treated ;  "  meaning  Lord  Scroop.     M.  Mason. 


150  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

West.  There  is  no  need  of  any  such  redress ; 
Or,  if  there  were,  it  not  belongs  to  you, 

Mowb.  Why  not  to  him,  in  part ;  and  to  us  all, 
That  feel  the  bruises  of  the  days  before  ; 
And  suffer  the  condition  of  these  times 
To  lay  an  heavy  and  unequal  hand 
Upon  our  honours  ? 

West,  O  my  good  lord  Mowbray 7, 

Construe  the  times  to  their  necessities 8, 

Perhaps  the  meaning  is — "  My  brother-general,  who  is  joined 
here  with  me  in  command,  makes  the  commonwealth  his  quarrel, 
i.  e.  has  taken  up  arms  on  account  of  publick  grievances  ;  a  par- 
ticular injury  done  to  my  own  brother,  is  my  ground  of  quarrel." 
I  have,  however,  very  little  confidence  in  this  interpretation.  I 
have  supposed  the  word  general  a  substantive  ;  but  probably  it  is 
used  as  an  adjective,  and  the  meaning  may  be,  I  consider  the 
wrongs  done  to  the  commonwealth,  the  common  brother  of  us  all, 
and  the  particular  and  domestick  cruelty  exercised  against  my 
natural  brother,  as  a  sufficient  ground  for  taking  up  arms. — If  the 
former  be  the  true  interpretation,  perhaps  a  semicolon  should  be 
placed  after  commonwealth.  The  word  born  in  the  subsequent 
line  ["  To  brother  born  "]  seems  strongly  to  countenance  the 
supposition  that  general  in  the  present  line  is  an  epithet  applied 
to  brother,  and  not  a  substantive. 

In  that  which  is  apparently  the  first  of  the  two  quartos,  the 
second  line  is  found ;  but  is  omitted  in  the  other,  and  the  folio. 
I  suspect  that  a  line  has  been  lost  following  the  word  common- 
tvealth  :  the  sense  of  which  was — "  is  the  general  ground  of  our 
taking  up  arms." 

This  supposition  renders  the  whole  passage  so  clear,  that  I  am 
now  decidedly  of  opinion  that  a  line  has  been  lost.  "  My  general 
brother,  the  commonwealth,  is  the  general  ground  of  our  taking 
up  arms;  a  wrong  of  a  domestic  nature,  namely  the  cruelty 
shewn  to  my  natural  brother,  is  my  particular  ground  for  engag- 
ing in  this  war."     Malone. 

It  is  now  become  certain  that  there  are  three  varieties  of  the 
quarto  editions,  1600,  of  this  play.  They  are  all  before  me,  and 
in  two  of  them  (only  one  of  which  contains  the  additional  scene 
at  the  beginning  of  the  third  Act)  the  second  line,  pointed  out  by 
Mr.  Malone,  is  wanting.     Steevens. 

It  is  wanting  in  Mr.  Malone's  copy  of  the  quarto  B.  Boswell. 

1  O  my  good  lord  Mowbray,  &c]  The  thirty-seven  lines  fol- 
lowing are  not  in  the  quarto.     Malone. 

8  Construe  the  times  to  their  necessities,]     That  is, — Judge  of 


sc.  /.  KING  HENRY  IV.  151 

And  you  shall  say  indeed, — it  is  the  time, 
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  9, 
That  you  should  have  an  inch  of  any  ground 
To  build  a  grief  on : 1  Were  you  not  restor'd 
To  all  the  duke  of  Norfolk's  signiories, 
Your  noble  and  right-well-remember'd  father's  ? 

Mowb.  What  thing,  in  honour,  had  my  father  lost, 
That  need  to  be  reviv'd,  and  breath'd  in  me  ? 
The  king,  that  lov'd  him,  as  the  state  stood  then, 
Was,  force  perforce  2,  compell'd  to  banish  him  : 
And  then,  when3  Harry  Bolingbroke,  and  he, — 
Being  mounted,  and  both  roused  in  their  seats, 
Their  neighing  coursers  daring  of  the  spur, 
Their  armed  staves  in  charge4,  their  beavers  down5, 

what  is  done  in  these  times  according  to  the  exigencies  that  over- 
rule us.     Johnson. 

9  Either  from  the  king,  &c]  Whether  the  faults  of  govern- 
ment be  imputed  to  the  time  or  the  king,  it  appears  not  tliat  you 
have,  for  your  part,  been  injured  either  by  the  king  or  the'time. 

Johnson. 

1  To  build  a  grief  on  :]     i.  e.  a  grievance.     Malone. 

*  Was,  force  perforce,]  Old  copy — "  Was  forc'd."  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Theobald.  In  a  subsequent  scene  we  have  the  same 
words  : 

"  As,  force  perforce,  the  age  will  put  it  in."     Malone. 

3  And  then,  when  — ]  The  old  copies  read — "  And  then, 
that — ."  Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.  Mr.  Rowe  reads — "And 
ivhen  that—."     Malone. 

4  Their  armed  staves  in  charge,  &c]  An  armed  staff  is  a  lance. 
To  be  in  charge,  is  to  be  fixed  in  the  rest  for  the  encounter. 

Johnson. 

5  —  their  beavers  down,]  Beaver,  it  has  been  already  ob- 
served in  a  former  note,  (see  vol.  xvi.  p.  364",  n.  5.)  meant  pro- 
perly that  part  of  the  helmet  which  let  down,  to  enable  the  wearer 
to  drink  ;  but  is  confounded  both  here  and  in  Hamlet  with  visicre, 
or  used  for  helmet  in  general. 

Shakspeare,  however,  is  not  answerable  for  any  confusion  on 
this  subject.  He  used  the  word  beaver  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
it  was  used  by  all  his  contemporaries.     Malone. 

See  Mr.  Douce's  note,  vol.  xvi.  p.  429.     Bo  swell. 


152  SECOND  PATIT  OF  act  jr. 

Their  eyes  of  fire  sparkling  through  sights  of  steel 6, 
And  the  loud  trumpet  blowing  them  together ; 
Then,  then,  when  there  was  nothing  could  have 

staid 
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. 

West.  You  speak,  lord  Mowbray,  now  you  know 

not  what : 
The  earl  of  Hereford7  was  reputed  then 
In  England  the  most  valiant  gentleman '; 
Who  knows,  on  whom  fortune  would  then  have 

smild  ? 
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   grac'd   indeed,   more  than   the 

king8. 
But  this  is  mere  digression  from  my  purpose.— 
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 

6  —  sights  of  steel,]  i.  e.  the  perforated  part  of  their  hel- 
mets, through  which  they  could  see  to  direct  their  aim.  Visiere, 
Fr.     Steevens. 

7  The  earl  of  Hereford  — ]  This  is  a  mistake  of  our  author's. 
He  was  Duke  of  Hereford.     See  King  Richard  II.     Malone. 

8  And  bless'd,  and  grac'd  indeed,  more  than  the  king.]  The 
two  oldest  folios,  (which  first  gave  us  this  speech  of  Westmore- 
land,) read  this  line  thus  : 

"  And  bless'd  and  grac'd  and  did  more  than  the  king." 
Dr.  Thirlby  reformed  the  text  very  near  to  the  traces  of  the  cor-> 
rupted  reading.    Theobald, 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  IV.  153 

It  shall  appear  that  your  demands  are  just, 
You  shall  enjoy  them  ;  every  thing  set  off, 
That  might  so  much  as  think  you  enemies. 

Motv.  But  he  hath  forc'd  us  to  compel  this  offer; 
And  it  proceeds  from  policy,  not  love. 

West.  Mowbray,  you  overween,  to  take  it  so ; 
This  offer  comes  from  mercy,  not  from  fear : 
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  wills 9,  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  of- 
fence : 
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  name1 : 
I  muse  you  make  so  slight  a  question. 

Arch.     Then  take,  my  lord  of  Westmoreland, 
this  schedule; 

9  Then  reason  wills,]  The  old  copy  has  will.  Corrected  by 
Mr.  Pope.  Perhaps  we  ought  rather  to  read — "  Then  reason 
•well — ."  The  same  mistake  has,  I  think,  happened  in  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor.     Malone. 

The  sense  is  clear  without  alteration.  Reason  wills — is,  reason 
determines,  directs.     Steevens. 

1  That  is  intended  in  the  general's  name:]  That  is,  this 
power  is  included  in  the  name  or  office  of  a  general.  We  wonder 
that  you  can  ask  a  question  so  trifling.     Johnson. 

Intended — is  understood,  i.  e.  meant  without  expressing,  like 
entendu,  Fr.  subauditur,  Lat.     Steevens. 


154  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

For  this  contains  our  general  grievances  : 

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  2  ; 

And  present  execution  of  our  wills 

To  us,  and  to  our  purposes,  consign'd 3 ; 


2  —  substantial  form ;]  That  is,  by  a  pardon  of  due  form  and 
legal  validity.     Johnson. 

3  To  us,  and  to  our  purposes,  consign'd  ;]  The  old  copies— 
confin'd.     Steevens. 

This  schedule  we  see  consists  of  three  parts  :  1.  A  redress  of 
general  grievances.  2.  A  pardon  for  those  in  arms.  3.  Some 
demands  of  advantage  for  them.  But  this  third  part  is  very 
strangely  expressed. 

"  And  present  execution  of  our  wills 
"  To  us,  and  to  our  purposes,  confin'd." 
The  first  line  shows  they  had  something  to  demand,  and  the  se- 
cond expresses  the  modesty  of  that  demand.  The  demand,  says 
the  speaker,  "  is  confined  to  us  and  to  our  purposes."  Avery 
modest  kind  of  restriction  truly  !  only  as  extensive  as  their  appe- 
tites and  passions.     Without  question  Shakspeare  wrote— 

"  To  us  and  to  our  properties  confin'd  ;  " 
i.  e.  we  desire  no  more  than  security  for  our  liberties  and  proper- 
ties :  and  this  was  no  unreasonable  demand.     Warburton. 

This  passage  is  so  obscure  that  I  know  not  what  to  make  of  it. 
Nothing  better  Occurs  to  me  than  to  read  consign  d  for  corifin'd. 
That  is,  let  the  execution  of  our  demands  be  put  into  our  hands, 
according  to  our  declared  purposes.     Johnson. 

Perhaps  we  should  read  [with  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer]  confirm'd* 
This  would  obviate  every  difficulty.     Steevens. 

I  believe  two  lines  are  out  of  place.     1  read  : 
"  For  this  contains  our  general  grievances, 
"  And  present  execution  of  our  wills  ; 
"  To  us  and  to  our  purposes  confin'd."     Farmer. 

The  present  reading  appears  to  me  to  be  right;  and  what  they 
demand  is,  a  speedy  execution  of  their  wills,  so  far  as  they  relate 
to  themselves,  and  to  the  grievances  which  they  proposed  to  re- 
dress.    M.  Mason. 

The  quarto  has — confin'd.  In  my  copy  of  the  first  folio,  the 
word  appears  to  be  consin'd.  The  types  used  in  that  edition 
were  so  worn,  that  f  and  J  are  scarcely  distinguishable.  But 
however  it  may  have  been  printed,  I  am  persuaded  that  the  true 
reading  is  consign'd;  that  is,  sealed,  ratified,  confirmed;  a  Latin 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  155 

We  come  within  our  awful  banks  again  4, 
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 : 


sense :  "  auctoritate  consignatce  literse — .     Cicero  pro  Cluentio." 
It  has  this  signification  again  in  this  play : 

"  And  (God  consigning  to  my  good  intents) 
"  No  prince  nor  peer,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  And  take  with  you  free  power  to  ratify, 
"  Augment  or  alter,  as  your  wisdoms  best 
"  Shall  see  advantageable  for  our  dignity, 
"  Any  thing  in  or  out  of  our  demands  ; 
"  And  we'll  consign  thereto."  ^ 

Again,  ibid. :  "  It  were,  my  lord,  a  hard  condition  for  a  maid  to 
consign  to — ."     Confin'd,  in  my  apprehension,  is  unintelligible. 

Supposing  these  copies  to  have  been  made  by  the  ear,  and  one 
to  have  transcribed  while  another  read,  the  mistake  might  easily 
have  happened,  for  consigned  and  consin'd  are,  in  sound,  undistin- 
guishable ;  and  when  the  compositor  found  the  latter  word  in  the 
manuscript,  he  would  naturally  print  confin'd,  instead  of  a  word 
that  has  no  existence. 

Dr.  Johnson  proposed  the  reading  that  I  have  adopted,  but  ex- 
plains the  word  differently.  The  examples  above  quoted  show,  I 
think,  that  the  explication  of  this  word  already  given  is  the  true 
one.     Malone. 

Though  I  have  followed  Mr.  Malone's  example  by  admitting 
Dr.  Johnson's  conjecture,  the  notes  of  various  commentators  are 
left  before  the  reader,  to  whose  judgment  they  are  submitted. 

Steevens. 
*  We  come  within  our  awful  banks  again,]     Awful  banks  are 
the  proper  limits  of  reverence.     Johnson. 
So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona : 

"  From  the  society  of  awful  men."     Steevens. 
It  is  also  used  in  the  same  sense  in  Pericles  : 

"  A  better  prince  and  benign  lord 

"  Prove  awful  both  in  deed  and  word."     M.  Mason. 
Dr.  Warburton  reads  lawful.     We  have  awful  in  the  last  Act 
of  this  play : 

"  To  pluck  down  justice  from  her  awful  bench." 
Here  it  certainly  means  inspiring  axve.  If  awful  banks  be  right, 
the  words  must  mean  due  and  orderly  limits.     Malone. 


156  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

And  either  5  end  in  peace,  which  heaven  so  frame  ! 
Or  to  the  place  of  difference  call  the  swords 
Which  must  decide  it. 

Arch.  My  lord,  we  will  do  so. 

[Exit  West. 

Motvb.  There  is  athing  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  6, 
Our  peace  shall  stand  as  firm  as  rocky  mountains. 

Mowb.  Ay,  but  our  valuation  shall  be  such, 
That  every  slight  and  false-derived  cause, 
Yea,  every  idle,  nice 7,  and  wanton  reason, 
Shall,  to  the  king,  taste  of  this  action : 
That,  were  our  royal  faiths  martyrs  in  love  8, 


5  And  either — ]  The  old  copies  read — "  At  either,"  &c. 
That  easy,  but  certain,  change  in  the  text,  I  owe  to  Dr.  Thirlby. 

Theobald.. 

6  —  consist  upon.]  Thus  the  old  copies.  Modern  editors — 
insist,     Steevens. 

Perhaps  the  meaning  is,  as  our  conditions  shall  stand  upon, 
shall  make  the  foundation  of  the  treaty.  A  Latin  sense.  So, 
in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  1609  : 

"  Then  welcome  peace,  if  he  on  peace  consist." 
See  also  p.  153  : 

"  Of  what  conditions  we  shall  stand  upon."     Malone. 
1  •*—  nice,]     i.  e.  trivial.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  The  letter  was  not  nice,  but  full  of  charge."  Steevens. 
8  That,  were  our  royal  faiths  martyrs  in  love,]  If  royalfaith 
can  mean  faith  to  a  king,  it  yet  cannot  mean  it  without  much  vio- 
lence done  to  the  language.  I  therefore  read,  with  Sir  T.  Han- 
mer,  loyal  faiths,  which  is  proper,  natural,  and  suitable  to  the  in- 
tention or  the  speaker.     Johnson. 

Royal  faith,  the  original  reading,  is  undoubtedly  right.    Royal 
faith  [as  Mr.  Capell  observes]  means,  the  faith  due  to  a  king.     So,, 
in  King  Henry  VIII. : 

*•'  The  citizens  have  shown  at  full  their  royal  minds  ;  " 
i.  e.  their  minds  well  affected  to  the  king.     Wolsey,  in  the  same 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  157 

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 9 : 
For  he  hath  found, — to  end  one  doubt  by  death, 
Revives  two  greater  in  the  heirs  of  life. 
And  therefore  will  he  wipe  his  tables  clean  1 ; 
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, 
That  hath  enrag'd  him  on  to  offer  strokes ; 
As  he  is  striking,  holds  his  infant  up, 
And  hangs  resolv'd  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 : 
So  that  his  power,  like  to  a  fangless  lion, 

play,  when  he  discovers  the  king  in  masquerade,  says,  "  here  I'll 
make  my  royal  choice,"  i.  e.  not  such  a  choice  as  a  king  would 
make,  but  such  a  choice  as  has  a  king  for  its  object.  So  royal 
faith,  the  faith  which  is  due  to  a  king ;  which  has  the  sovereign 
for  its  object.     Malone. 

This  reading  is  judiciously  restored,  and  well  supported  by  Mr. 
Malone.     Steevens. 

9  Of  dainty  and  such  picking  grievances  :]  I  cannot  but  think 
that  this  line  is  corrupted,  and  that  we  should  read  : 

"  Of  picking  out  such  dainty  grievances."     Johnson. 

Picking  means  piddling,  insignificant.     Steevens. 

1  —  wipe  his  tables  clean  :]    Alluding  to  a  table-book  of  slate, 
ivory,  &c.     Warburton. 


158  SECOND  PART  OP  act  iv. 

May  offer,  but  not  hold. 

Arch.  Tis  very  true  ; — 

And  therefore  be  assur'd,  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  ? 
Mojtb.  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,  the  Archbishop, 
Hastings,  and  Others:  from  the  other  side, 
Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  Westmoreland, 
Officers  and  Attendants. 

P.  John.  You  are  well  encounter'd  here,  my  cou- 
sin 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 
Your  exposition  on  the  holy  text ; 
Than  now  to  see  you  here  an  iron  man 2, 

2  — an  iron  man,]     Holinshed  says  of  the  Archbishop,  that 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  159 

Cheering  a  rout  of  rebels  with  your  drum, 
Turning  the  word  to  sword 3,  and  life  to  death. 
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  imagin'd  voice  of  God  himself4; 
The  very  opener  and  intelligencer, 
Between  the  grace,  the  sanctities  of  heaven 5, 
And  our  dull  workings  6  :  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, 


"  coming  foorth  amongst  them  clad  in  armour,  he  incouraged  and 
pricked  them  foorth  to  take  the  enterprise  in  hand."     Steevens. 

3  Turning  the  word  to  sword,  &c]  A  similar  thought  occurs 
in  Gower's  Confessio  Amantis,  1554  : 

"  Into  the  sivorde  the  churche  kaye 

"  Is  turned,  and  the  holy  bede,"  &c.     Steevens. 

4  —  the  imagin'd  voice  of  God  himself;]  The  old  copies,  by 
an  apparent  error  of  the  press,  have — "  the  imagine  voice."  Mr~ 
Pope  introduced  the  reading  of  the  text.  Perhaps  Shakspeare 
wrote — 

"  To  us,  the  image  and  voice,"  &c 
So,  in  a  subsequent  scene  : 

"  And  he,  the  noble  image  of  my  youth."     Malone. 
I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  reject  a  harmonious  reading,  that 
another  eminently  harsh  may  supply  its  place.     Steevens. 

5  —  the  sanctities  of  heaven,]  This  expression  Milton  has 
copied : 

"  Around  him  all  the  sanctities  of  heaven 
"  Stood  thick  as  stars."     Johnson.. 

6  —  workings :]  i.  e.  labours  of  thought.  So,  in  King 
Henry  V. : 

"  —  the  forge  and  xwrking-house  of  thought." 

Steevens. 


160  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

In  deeds  dishonourable  ?  You  have  taken  up 7, 
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, 

I  am  not  here  against  your  father's  peace  : 
But,  as  I  told  my  lord  of  Westmoreland, 
The  time  misorder'd  doth,  in  common  sense8, 
Croud  us  and  crush  us,  to  this  monstrous  form, 
To  hold  our  safety  up.     I  sent  your  grace 
The  parcels  and  particulars  of  our  grief; 
The  which  hath  been  with  scorn  shov'd  from  the 

court, 
Whereon  this  Hydra  son  of  war  is  born  : 
Whose  dangerous  eyes  may  well  be  charm'd  asleep9, 
With  grant  of  our  most  just  and  right  desires ; 
And  true  obedience  of  this  madness  cur'd, 
Stoop  tamely  to  the  foot  of  majesty. 

Mowb.  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 l  shall  be  born  ; 

7  You  have  taken  up,]  To  take  up  is  to  levy,  to  raise  in  arms. 

Johnson. 

8  —  in  common  sense,]     I  believe  Shakspeare  wrote  common 
fence,  i.  e.  drove  by  self-defence.     Warburton. 

Common  sense  is  the  general  sense  of  general  danger. 

Johnson. 
May  not  common  sense  here  mean,  according  to  the  dictates  of 
reason?     M.  Mason. 

9  Whose  dangerous  eyes  may  well  be  charm'd  asleep,]    Allud- 
ing to  the  dragon  charmed  to  rest  by  the  spells  of  Medea. 

Steevens. 
1  And  so  success  of  mischief — ]     Success  for  succession. 

Warburton. 


m  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  161 

And  heir  from  heir  shall  hold  this  quarrel  up, 
Whiles  England  shall  have  generation. 

P.  John.  You  are  too  shallow,  Hastings,  much 
too  shallow, 
To  sound  the  bottom  of  the  after-times. 

West.  Pleaseth  your  grace,  to  answer  them  di- 
rectly, 
How  far-forth  you  do  like  their  articles  ? 

P.  John.  I  like  them  all,  and  do  allow 2  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 ; 
Upon  my  soul,  they  shall.     If  this  may  please  you, 
Discharge  your  powers 3  unto  their  several  counties, 
As  we  will  ours :  and  here,  between  the  armies, 
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  re- 
dresses. 
P.  John.    I  give  it  you,  and  will  maintain  my 
word  : 
And  thereupon  I  drink  unto  your  grace. 

Hast.  Go,  captain,  [To  an  Officer.^  and  deliver 
to  the  army 

2  —  and  do  allow — ]  i.  e.  approve.  So,  in  King  Lear, 
Act  II.  Sc.  IV. : 

"  if  your  sweet  sway 

"  Allow  obedience."     Malone. 

3  Discharge  your  powers — ]  It  was  Westmoreland  who  made 
this  deceitful  proposal,  as  appears  from  Holinshed  :  "  The  earl  of 
Westmoreland  using  more  policie  than  the  rest,  said,  whereas  our 
people  have  been  long  in  armour,  let  them  depart  home  to  their 
woonted  trades  :  in  the  meane  time  let  us  drink  togither  in  signe 
of  agreement,  that  the  people  on  both  sides  may  see  it,  and  know 
that  it  is  true,  that  we  be  light  at  a  point."     Steevens. 

VOL.  XVII.  M 


162  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

This  news  of  peace  ;  let  them  have  pay,  and  part : 
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  you 
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  sea- 
son; 
For  I  am,  on  the  sudden,  something  ill. 

Arch.  Against  ill  chances,  men  are  ever  merry4 ; 
But  heaviness  foreruns  the  good  event. 

West.  Therefore  be  merry,  coz 5 ;  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  be 
true.  [Shouts  within. 

P.  John.  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 : 
For  then  both  parties  nobly  are  subdued, 
And  neither  party  loser. 

P.  John.  Go,  my  lord, 

*  Against  ill  chances,  men  are  ever  merry ;]  Thus  the  poet 
describes  Romeo,  as  feeling  an  unaccustomed  degree  of  cheerful- 
ness just  before  he  hears  the  news  of  the  death  of  Juliet. 

Steevens. 

i  Therefore  be  merry,  coz  ;]  That  is — Therefore,  notwith- 
standing this  sudden  impulse  to  heaviness,  be  merry,  for  such  sud- 
den dejections  forbode  good.     Johnson. 


vy. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  163 

And  let  our  army  be  discharged  too. — 

[Exit  Westmoreland. 
And,  good  my  lord,  so  please  you,  let  our  trains  6 
March  by  us ;  that  we  may  peruse  the  men 
We  should  have  cop'd  withal. 

Arch.  Go,  good  lord  Hastings, 

And,  ere  they  be  dismissd,  let  them  march  by. 

\Exit  Hastings. 
P.  John.  I  trust,  my  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, 
Will  not  go  off  until  they  hear  you  speak. 

P.  John.  They  know  their  duties. 

Re-enter  Hastings. 

Hast.  My  lord,  our  army  is  dispers'd  already : 
Like  youthful  steers  unyok'd,  they  take  their  courses 
East,  west,  north,  south ;  or,  like  a  school  broke  up, 
Each  hurries  toward  his  home,  and  sporting-place. 
West.  Good  tidings,  my  lord  Hastings ;  for  the 
which 
I  do  arrest  thee,  traitor,  of  high  treason : — 
And  you,  lord  archbishop, — and  you,  lord  Mow- 
bray, 

6  —  let  our  trains,  &c]  That  is,  our  army  on  each  part,  that 
we  may  both  see  those  that  were  to  have  opposed  us.     Johnson. 

We  ought,  perhaps,  to  read — "  your  trains."  The  Prince  knew 
his  own  strength  sufficiently,  and  only  wanted  to  be  acquainted 
with  that  of  the  enemy.  The  plural,  trains,  however,  seems  in 
favour  of  the  old  reading.     Malone. 

The  Prince  was  desirous  to  see  their  train,  and  therefore, 
under  pretext  of  affording  them  a  similar  gratification,  proposed 
that  both  trains  should  pass  in  review.     Steevens. 

M   2 


V 


164  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

Of  capital  treason  I  attach  you  both. 

Mojvb.  Is  this  proceeding  just  and  honourable  ? 

West.  Is  your  assembly  so  ? 

Arch.  Will  you  thus  break  your  faith  ? 

P.  John.  I  pawn'd  thee  none  : 

I  promis'd  you  redress  of  these  same  grievances 7, 
Whereof  you  did  complain  ;  which,  by  mine  ho- 
nour, 
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 8,  and  foolishly  sent  hence. — 
Strike  up  our  drums,  pursue  the  scatter'd  stray ; 
Heaven,  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 9. 

*  Quartos  omit  and  such  acts  as  yours. 

7  I  promis'd  you  redress  of  these  same  grievances,]  Surely 
the  two  redundant  words — these  same,  should  be  omitted,  for 
the  sake  of  metre.     They  are  undoubted  interpolations. 

Steevens. 

8  Fondly  brought  here,  &c]  Fondly  is  foolishly.  So,  in 
Lord  Surrey's  translation  of  the  second  book  of  Virgil's  JEneid  : 

"  What  wight  so  fond  such  offer  to  refuse  ?  " 

Steevens. 

9  Exeunt."]  It  cannot  but  raise  some  indignation  to  find  this 
horrid  violation  of  faith  passed  over  thus  slightly  by  the  poet, 
without  any  note  of  censure  or  detestation.     Johnson. 

Shakspeare,  here,  as  in  many  other  places,  has  merely  followed 
the  historians,  who  related  this  perfidious  act  without  animad- 
version, and  who  seem  to  have  adopted  the  ungenerous  senti- 
ment of  Chorcebus : 

dolus  an  virtus,  quis  in  hoste  requirat  ? 

But  this  is  certainly  no  excuse  ;  for  it  is  the  duty  of  a  poet 
always  to  take  the  side  of  virtue.     Malone. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  165 

SCENE  III. 

Another  Part  of  the  Forest. 

Alarums :  Excursions.    Enter  Falstaff  and 
Colevile,  meeting. 

Fal.  What's  your  name,  sir  ?  of  what  condition 
are  you  ;  and  of  what  place,  I  pray  ? 

Cole.  I  am  a  knight,  sir ;  and  my  name  is — 
Colevile  of  the  dale l. 

1  —  Colevile  of  the  dale.]  u  At  the  king's  coming  to  Dur- 
ham, the  Lord  Hastings,  sir  John  Colevile  of  the  dale,  &c.  being 
convicted  of  the  conspiracy,  were  there  beheaded."  Holinshed, 
p.  530.     Steevens. 

But  it  is  not  clear  that  Hastings  or  Colevile  was  taken  prisoner 
in  this  battle.     See  Rot.  Pari.  7  and  8  Henry  IV.  p.  604-. 

RlTSON, 

The  above  quotation  has  not  been  appositely  made  by  Mr. 
Steevens.  It  appears  very  soon  aftterwards  in  this  scene  that 
Colevile  and  his  confederates  were  sent  by  prince  John  to  York 
to  be  beheaded. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  there  are  two  accounts  of  the  termina- 
tion of  the  archbishop  of  York's  conspiracy,  both  of  which  are 
given  by  Holinshed,  who  likewise  states  that  on  the  archbishop 
and  the  earl  marshal's  submission  to  the  king  and  to  his  son 
prince  John,  there  present,  "  their  troupes  skaled  and  fledde 
their  waves,  but  being  pursued,  many  were  taken,  many  slain, 
&c.  the  archbishop  and  earl  marshal  were  brought  to  Pomfret  to 
the  king,  who  from  thence  went  to  Yorke  ivhyther  the  prisoners 
were  also  brought  and  there  beheaded."  It  is  this  account  that 
Shakspeare  has  followed,  but  with  some  variation  ;  for  the  names 
of  Hastings  and  Colevile  are  not  mentioned  among  those  who 
were  so  beheaded  at  York. 

Mr.  Ritson  says  it  is  not  clear  that  Hastings  and  Colevile  were 
taken  prisoners  in  this  battle ;  meaning,  it  is  presumed,  the 
skirmishes  with  "the  scattered  stray"  whom  prince  John  had 
ordered  to  be  pursued,  including  Hastings  and  Colevile.  It  is 
however  quite  clear  from  the  testimony  of  the  parliament  rolls, 
that  they  were  taken  prisoners  in  their  flight  from  Topcliffe,  on  the 
borders  of  Galtre  forest,  where  they  had  made  head  against  the 
king's  army,  and  were  dispersed  by  prince  John  and  the  earl  of 
Westmoreland.     Douce. 


166  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

Fal.  Well  then,  Colevile  is  your  name ;  a 
knight  is  your  degree ;  and  your  place,  the  dale  : 
Colevile  shall  still  be  your  name  ;  a  traitor  your  de- 
gree ;  and  the  dungeon  your  place, — a  place  deep 
enough  ;  so  shall  you  still  be  Colevile  of  the  dale 2. 

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  drops  of  thy  lovers,  and  they  weep 
for  thy  death :  therefore  rouse  up  fear  and  trem- 
bling, and  do  observance  to  my  mercy. 

Cole.  I  think,  you  are  sir  John  Falstaff;  and,  in 
that  thought,  yield  me. 

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  general. 

Enter  Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  Westmoreland, 
and  Others. 

P.  John.  The  heat  is  past 3,    follow  no  further 
now ; — 
Call  in  the  powers,  good  cousin  Westmoreland. — 

[Exit  West. 

2  —  and  the  dungeon  your  place, — a  place  deep  enough  ;  so 
shall  you  still  be  Colevile  of  the  dale.]  But  where  is  the  wit  or 
the  logick  of  this  conclusion?  I  am  almost  persuaded  that  we 
ought  to  read  thus  : 

" Colevile  shall  still  be  your  name,  a  traitor  your  degree, 

and  the  dungeon  your  place,  a  dale  deep  enough- ." 

He  may  then  justly  infer, 

' '  —  so  shall  you  still  be  Colevile  of  the  dale."    Tyrwhitt. 

The  sense  of  dale  is  included  in  deep  ;  a  dale  is  a  deep  place  ; 
a  dungeon  is  a  deep  place  ;  he  that  is  in  a  dungeon  may  be  there- 
fore said  to  be  in  a  dale.     Johnson. 

3  The  heat  is  past,]  That  is,  the  violence  of  resentment, 
the  eagerness  of  revenge.     Johnson. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  167 

Now,  Falstaff,  where  have  you  been  all  this  while  ? 
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. 

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,  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  Rome4, 
1  came,  saw,  and  overcame. 

P.  John.  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 
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  of  it,  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 5, 
which  show  like  pins'  heads  to  her ;  believe  not  the 
word  of  the  noble :  Therefore  let  me  have  right, 
and  let  desert  mount. 

P.  John.  Thine's  too  heavy  to  mount. 

4  —  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,]  The  quarto  reads — 
"  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,  their  cosin."  I  have  followed 
the  folio.  Some  of  the  modern  editors  read,  but  without  autho- 
rity— u  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,  there,  Ccesar." 

Steevens. 

5  —  cinders  of  the  element,]     A  ludicrous  term  for  the  stars. 

Steevens. 


168  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

Fal.  Let  it  shine  then. 

P.  John.  Thine's  too  thick  to  shine. 

Fal.  Let  it  do  something,  my  good  lord,  that 
may  do  me  good,  and  call  it  what  you  will. 

JR  John.  Is  thy  name  Colevile  °  ? 

Cole.  It  is,  my  lord. 

P.John.  A  famous  rebel  art  thou,  Colevile. 

Fal.  And  a  famous  true  subject  took  him. 

Cole.  I  am,  my  lord,  but  as  my  betters  are, 
That  led  me  hither :  had  they  been  rul'd  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  * ; 
and  I  thank  thee  for  thee. 

Re-enter  Westmoreland. 

P.  John.  Now,  have  you  left  pursuit  ? 

West.  Retreat  is  made,  and  execution  stay'd. 

P.  John.  Send  Colevile,  with  his  confederates, 
To  York,  to  present  execution  : — 
Blunt,  lead  him  hence ;  and  see  you  guard  him 
sure.  [Exeunt  some  with  Colevile. 

And  now  despatch  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  Glostershire  :  and,  when  you  come  to 
court,  stand  my  good  lord,  'pray  -j~,  in  your  good 
report 7. 

*  Quartos,  gavest  thyself  axuay  gratis. 
f  Quartos  omit  pray. 

6  —  Colevile?]  From  the  present  seeming  deficiency  in  the 
structure  of  this  and  the  two  subsequent  lines  containing  Cole- 
vile's  name,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is  repeatedly  spelt 
in  the  old  copies,  viz.  Collevile,  I  suspect  it  was  designed  to  be 
pronounced  as  a  trisyllable.     Steevens. 

7  —stand  my  good  lord,  'pray,  in  your  good  report.]     We 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  169 

P.John.  Fare  you  well,   Falstaff:  I,  in  my  con- 
dition, 
Shall  better  speak  of  you  than  you  deserve  8. 

[Exit. 

must  either  read,  pray  let  me  stand,  or,  by  a  construction  some- 
what harsh,  understand  it  thus  :  "  Give  me  leave  to  go — and— 
stand — ."  To  "  stand  in  a  report,"  referred  to  the  reporter,  is 
to  persist ;  and  Falstaff  did  not  ask  the  prince  to  persist  in  his 
present  opinion.     Johnson. 

"  Stand  my  good  lord,"  I  believe,  means  only  "  stand  my  good 
Jriend,"  (an  expression  still  in  common  use,)  in  your  favourable 
report  of  me.     So,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew : 

"  I  pray  you,  stand  good  father  to  me  now." 
Again,  in  King  Lear : 

" conjuring  the  moon 

"  To  stand  his  auspicious  mistress." 
Mr.  M.  Mason  observes  that  the  same  phrase  occurs  in  Ben 
Jonson's  Case  is  altered,  where  Onion  says  to  Chamont : 
"  Monsieur  Chamont,  stand  you  my  honour'd  Sir." 

Steevens. 
Mr.  Steevens  is  certainly  right.     In  a  former  scene  of  this 
play,  the  Hostess  says  to  the  Chief  Justice,  "  good  my  lord,  be 
good  unto  me  ;  I  beseech  you,  stand  to  me."     Though  an  equi- 
voque may  have  been  there  intended,  yet  one  of  the  senses  con- 
veyed by  this  expression  in  that  place  is  the  same  as  here. 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  Coriolanus  : 
"  — —  his  gracious  nature 
"  Would  think  upon  you  for  your  voices, — 
"  Standing  your  friendly  lord." 
Again,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy : 

" What  would  he  with  us  ? 

"  He  writes  us  here 

"  To  stand  good  lord,  and  help  him  in  distress." 

Malone. 
Stand  is  here  the  imperative  word,  as  give  is  before.     "  Stand 
my  good  lord,"  i.  e.  be  my  good  patron  and  benefactor.     **  Be  my 
good  lord  "  was  the  old  court  phrase  used  by  a  person  who  asked 
a  favour  of  a  man  of  high  rank.     So,   in  a  Letter  to  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  (printed  in  the  Appendix  to  The  Northumber- 
land Houshold  Book,)  he  desires  that  Cardinal  Wolsey  would  so 
far  "  be  his  good  lord,"  as  to  empower  him  to  imprison  a  person 
who  had  defrauded  him.     Percy. 
8  — I,  in  my  condition, 
Shall  better  speak  of  you  than  you  deserve.]     I  know  not  well 
the  meaning  of  the  word  condition  in  this  place  ;  I  believe  it  is 


y- 


170  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

Fal.  I  would,  you  had  but  the  wit;  'twere  better 
than  your  dukedom 9. — Good  faith,  this  same  young 
sober-blooded  boy  doth  not  love  me ;  nor  a  man 
cannot  make  him  laugh  l ; — but  that's  no  marvel, 
he  drinks  no  wine.  There's  never  any  of  these 
demure  boys  come  to  any  proof2 :  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,  when  they  marry,  they  get 
wenches  :  they  are  generally  fools  and  cowards  ; — 
which  some  of  us  should  be  too,  but  for  inflamma- 
tion.    A  good  sherris-sack 3  hath  a  two-fold  opera- 

the  same  with  temper  of  mind  :  I  shall,  in  my  good  nature,  speak 
better  of  you  than  you  merit.     Johnson. 

I  believe  it  means,  "  I,  in  my  condition,"  i.  e.  in  my  place  as 
commanding   officer,  who  ought  to  represent  things  merely  as 
they  are,  shall  speak  of  you  better  than  you  deserve. 
So,  in  The  Tempest,  Ferdinand  says  : 

"  ■ I  am,  in  my  condition, 

"  A  prince,  Miranda 
Dr.  Johnson's  explanation,  however,  seems  to  be  countenanced 
by  Gower's  address  to  Pistol,  in  King  Henry  V.  Act  V.  Sc.  I. : 
"  -—let  a  Welsh  correction  teach  you  a  good  English  co7idition." 

Steevens. 
9  -—your   dukedom.]      He  had  no  dukedom.     See  vol.  xvi. 
p.  178.     Ritson. 

1  — this  same  young  sober-blooded  boy  doth  not  love  me; 
nor  a  man  cannot  make  him  laugh  ;]  FalstafF  here  speaks  like  a 
veteran  in  life.  The  young  prince  did  not  love  him,  and  he 
despaired  to  gain  his  affection,  for  he  could  not  make  him  laugh. 
Men  only  become  friends  by  community  of  pleasures.  He  who 
cannot  be  softened  into  gaiety,  cannot  easily  be  melted  into  kind- 
ness.    Johnson. 

2  — to  any  proof:]  i.  e.  any  confirmed  state  of  manhood. 
The  allusion  is  to  armour  hardened  till  it  abides  a  certain  trial. 
So,  in  King  Richard  II. : 

"  Add  proof  unto  my  armour  with  thy  prayers." 

Steevens. 

3  — sherris-sack  — ]  This  liquor  is  mentioned  in  The  Captain, 
by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.     Steevens. 

The  epithet  sherry  or  skerris,  when  added  to  sack,  merely 
denoted  the  particular  part  of  Spain  from  whence  it  came.     See 


sc.m.  KING  HENRY  IV.  171 

tion  in  it.     It  ascends  me  into  the  brain ;  dries  me 
there  all  the  foolish,  and  dull,  and  crudy  vapours 4 


Minsheu's  Spanish  Dictionary,  1617  :  "  Xeres,  or  Xeres,  op- 
pidum  Boeticae,  i.  e.  Andalusiae,  prope  Cadiz,  unde  nomen  vini 
de  Xeres.  A.  \_Anglice']  Xeres  sacked  Sherris-Sack  was  there- 
fore what  we  now  denominate  Sherry.  The  sack  to  which  this 
epithet  was  not  annexed,  came  chiefly  from  Malaga.  Cole,  who 
in  1679  renders  sack,  vinum  Hispanicum,  renders  Sherry-Sack, 
by  Vinum  Eseritanum  ;  and  Ainsworth,  by  Vinum  Andalusianum. 
See  a  former  note,  vol.  xvi.  p.  200,  n.  2.     Malone. 

What  is  ludicrously  advanced  by  Falstaff,  was  the  serious  doc- 
trine of  the  School  of  Salernum  :  "  Heere  observe  that  the  witte 
of  a  man  hath  a  strong  brain e,  is  clarified  and  sharpened  more,  if 
hee  drinke  good  wine,  than  if  he  dranke  none,  as  Auicen  sayth. 
And  the  cause  why,  is  by  reason  that  of  good  wine  (more  than  of 
any  other  drinkes)  are  engendered  and  multiplied  subtile  spirits, 
cleane  and  pure.  And  this  is  the  cause  also  why  the  divines,  that 
imagine  and  study  upon  high  and  subtile  matters,  love  to  drinke 
good  wines :  and  after  the  opinion  of  Auicen,  These  wines  are 
good  for  men  of  cold  and  Jlegmaticke  complexion  ;  for  such  wines 
redresse  and  amend  the  coldnesse  of  complexion,  and  they  open 
the  opilations  and  stoppings  that  are  wont  to  be  ingendred  in 
such  persons,  and  they  digest  phlegme,  and  they  help  nature  to 
convert  and  turne  them  into  blood,  they  lightly  digest,  and  con- 
vert quickly,  they  increase  and  greatly  quicken  the  spirits."  The 
School  of  Salernes'  Regiment  qf  Health,  p.  33,  J  634. 

Holt  White. 

Of  this  work  there  were  several  earlier  translations,  &c.  one  of 
these  was  printed  by  Berthelet,  in  1541.     Steevens. 

We  have  equally  strong  testimonies  in  favour  of  good  wine 
from  some  of  our  learned  countrymen.  I  have  two  treatises  on 
this  subject,  one,  The  Tree  of  Humane  Life,  or  The  Bloud  of  the 
Grape,  &c.  by  Thomas  Whitaker,  Doctor  in  Physick  of  London, 
1638.  He  observes  that  Noah  lived  twenty  years  beyond  Adam, 
which  he  attributes  to  his  having  "  tasted  Nectar  from  that  plant 
from  which  Adam  was  excluded,  I  mean  an  inferiour  species  of 
that  tree  of  life."  The  other  is  entitled  riEPI  YTXPOnO^IAS, 
of  drinking  water,  against  our  novcllists  that  prescribed  it  in 
England,  by  Richard  Short,  of  Bury,  Doctor  of  Physick,  1656. 
He  is  not  a  little  angry  at  the  water  drinkers,  and  asks  if  we 
may  not  as  well  feed  upon  acorns.     Boswell. 

4  It  ascends  me  into  the  brain  ;  dries  me  there  all  the — crudy 
vapours  — ]  This  use  of  the  pronoun  is  a  familiar  redundancy 
among  our  old  writers.  So  Latimer,  p.  91  :  "  Here  cometh  me 
now  these  holy  fathers  from  their  counsels." — "  There  was  one 


172  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

which  environ  it:  makes  it  apprehensive5,  quick, 
forgetive6,  full  of  nimble,  firy,  and  delectable 
shapes ;  which  delivered  o'er  to  the  voice,  (the 
tongue,)  which  is  the  birth,  becomes  excellent  wit. 
The  second  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  in- 
wards 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,  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 7 ;  till  sack  commences  it 8,  and  sets  it  in 

*  Folio,  his  retinue. 

wiser  than  the  rest,  and  he  comes  me  to  the  bishop."  Edit.  1575, 
p.  75.     Bowle. 

*  —  apprehensive,]  i.  e.  quick  to  understand.  So,  in  The 
Revenger's  Tragedy,  1608  : 

"  Thou'rt  a  mad  apprehensive  knave." 

Again,  in  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour  :  "  You  are  too  quick, 
too  apprehensive,"     In  this  sense  it  is  now  almost  disused. 

Steevens. 

6  —  forgetive,]     Forgetive  from  Jorge  ;  inventive,  imaginative. 

Johnson. 

1  —  kept  by  a  devil ;]  It  was  anciently  supposed  that  all  the 
mines  of  gold,  &c.  were  guarded  by  evil  spirits.  So,  in  Certaine 
Secrete  Wonders  of  Nature,  &c.  bl.  1.  by  Edward  Fenton,  1569  : 
"  There  appeare  at  this  day  many  strange  visions  and  tvicked  spi- 
rites  in  the  metal-mines  of  the  Greate  Turke — ."  "  In  the  mine 
at  Anneburg  was  a  mettal  sprite  which  killed  twelve  workemen  ; 
the  same  causing  the  rest  to  forsake  the  myne,  albeit  it  was  very 
riche."     P.  91.     Steevens. 

8  —  till  sack  commences  it,]  I  believe,  till  sack  gives  it  a  be- 
ginning, brings  it  into  action.  Mr.  Heath  would  read  commerces 
it.     Steevens. 


sail.  KING  HENRY  IV.  173 

act  and  use.  Hereof  comes  it,  that  prince  Harry 
is  valiant :  for  the  cold  blood  he  did  naturally  in- 
herit of  his  father,  he  hath,  like  lean,  steril,  and 
bare  land,  manured,  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 
human  principle  I  would  teach  them,  should  be, — 
to  forswear  thin  potations 9,  and  addict  themselves 
to  sack. 

It  seems  probable  to  me,  that  Shakspeare,  in  these  words,  al- 
ludes to  the  Cambridge  Commencement ;  and  in  what  follows  to 
the  Oxford  Act :  for  by  those  different  names  our  two  universities 
have  long  distinguished  the  season,  at  which  each  of  them  gives 
to  her  respective  students  a  complete  authority  to  use  those  hoards 
of  learning  which  have  entitled  them  to  their  several  degrees  in 
arts,  law,  physick,  and  divinity.  Tyrwhitt. 
So,  in  The  Roaring  Girl,  1611 : 

"  Then  he  is  held  a  freshman  and  a  sot, 
"  And  never  shall  commence." 
Again,  in  Pasquil's  Jests,  or  Mother  Bunch's  Merriment,  1604  : 
*'  A  doctor  that  was  newly  commenst  at  Cambridge,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Have  With  You  to  Saffron  Walden,  or  Gabriel  Har- 
vey's Hunt  is  Up,  1596  :  "  Commence,  commence,  I  admonish  thee; 
thy  merits  are  ripe  for  it,  and  there  have  been  doctors  of  thy  fa- 
cultie."     Steevens. 

9  —  to  forswear  thin  potations,]  In  the  preference  given  by 
Falstaff  to  sack,  our  author  seems  to  have  spoken  the  sentiments 
of  his  own  time.  In  the  Ordinances  of  the  Household  of  King 
James  I.  dated  in  1604,  (the  second  year  of  his  reign,)  is  the  fol- 
lowing article  :  "  And  whereas  in  times  past  Spanish  wines  called 
sacke,  were  little  or  no  whit  used  in  our  court,  and  that  in  late 
yeares,  though  not  of  ordinary  allowance,  &c. — we  understanding 
that  it  is  used  as  comon  drinke  and  served  at  meales,  as  an  ordi- 
nary to  every  meane  officer,  contrary  to  all  order,  using  it  rather 
for  wantonesse  and  surfeiting,  than  for  necessity,  to  a  great  waste- 
full  expence,"  &c. 

Till  the  above  mentioned  period,  the  "thin  potations"  com- 
plained of  by  Falstaff,  had  been  the  common  beverage.  See  the 
Collection  of  Ordinances  and  Regulations  for  the  Government  of 
the  Royal  Household,  &c.  published  by  the  Antiquary  Society,  4to. 
1790. 

The  ancient  and  genuine  Sherry  was  a  dry  wine,  and  therefore 
fit  to  be  drank  with  sugar.     What  we  now  use  is  in  some  degree 


174  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 


Enter  Bardolph. 

How  now,  Bardolph  ? 

Bard.  The  army  is  discharged  all,  and  gone. 

Fal.  Let  them  go.  I'll  through  Glostershire ; 
and  there  will  I  visit  master  Robert  Shallow, 
esquire  :  1  have  him  already  tempering  between  my 
finger  and  my  thumb  *,  and  shortly  will  I  seal  with 
him.     Come  away.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 

Westminster.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Clarence,  Prince  Hum- 
phrey, Warwick,  and  Others. 

K.  Hen.  Now,   lords,  if  heaven  doth  give  suc- 
cessful end 
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. 


sweetened  by  art,  and  therefore  affords  no  adequate  idea  of  the 
liquor  that  was  Falstaffs  favourite.     Steevens. 

1  —  I  have  him  already  tempering,  &c]     A  very  pleasant  al- 
lusion to  the  old  use  of  sealing  with  soft  wax.     Warburton. 

This  custom  is  likewise  alluded  to  in  Any  Thing  for  a  quiet  Life, 
1662,  a  comedy,  by  Middleton  : 

"  You  must  temper  him  like  wax,  or  he'll  not  seal." 
Again,  in  Your  Five  Gallants,  by  Middleton,  no  date : 
"  Fetch  a  pennyworth  of  soft  wax  to  seal  letters." 
Again,  in  Chaucer's  Marchante's  Tale,  v.  9304  : 

"  Right  as  men  may  warm  wax  with  handes  plie." 

Steevens. 
In  our  poet's  Venus  and  Adonis,  there  is  an  allusion  to  the  same 
custom  : 

"  What  wax  so  frozen  but  dissolves  with  tempering, 
"  And  yields  at  last  to  every  light  impression  ?  " 

Malone. 


sc.  IV.  KING  HENRY  IV.  175 

Our  navy  is  address'd a,  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. 

War.  Both  which,  we  doubt  not  but  your  ma- 
jesty 
Shall  soon  enjoy. 

K.  Hen.  Humphrey,  my  son  of  Gloster, 

Where  is  the  prince  your  brother  ? 

P.  Humph.  I  think,  he's  gone  to  hunt,  my  lord, 
at  Windsor. 

K .  Hen.  And  how  accompanied  ? 

P.  Humph.  I  do  not  know,  my  lord. 

K.  Hen.  Is  not  his  brother,  Thomas  of  Clarence, 
with  him  ? 

P.  Humph.  No,  my  good  lord  ;  he  is  in  presence 
here. 

Cla.  What  would  my  lord  and  father  ? 

K.  Hen.  Nothing  but  well  to  thee,  Thomas  of 
Clarence. 
How  chance,  thou  art  not  with  the  prince  thy  bro- 
ther ? 
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  may'st  effect 
Of  mediation,  after  I  am  dead, 
Between  his  greatness  and  thy  other  brethen : — 
Therefore  omit  him  not ;  blunt  not  his  love : 
Nor  lose  the  good  advantage  of  his  grace, 
By  seeming  cold,  or  careless  of  his  will. 

2  Our  navy  is  address'd,]     i.  e.  Our  navy  is  ready,  prepared. 
So,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  To-morrow  for  our  march  are  we  address'd."  Steevens. 


176  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

For  he  is  gracious,  if  he  be  observ'd 3 ; 

He  hath  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand  i 

Open  as  day  for  melting  charity : 

Yet  notwithstanding,  being  incens'd,  he's  flint ; 

As  humorous  as  winter 5,  and  as  sudden 

As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day 6. 

3  —  if  he  be  observ'd  ;]  i.  e.  if  he  has  respectful  attention 
shown  to  him.     So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  : 

"  Follow'd  her  with  doting  observance."     Steevens. 

4  He  hath  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand,  &c]  So,  in  our  author's 
Lover's  Complaint : 

"  His  qualities  were  beauteous  as  his  form, 
"  For  maiden-tongu'd  he  was,  and  thereof  free ; 
"  Yet,  if  men  mov'd  him,  was  he  such  a  storm 
"  As  oft  'twixt  May  and  April  is  to  see, 
"  When  winds  breathe  sweet,  unruly  though  they  be." 

Malone. 

5  —  humorous  as  winter,]  That  is,  changeable  as  the  wea- 
ther of  a  winter's  day.  Dryden  says  of  Almanzor,  that  he  is  hu- 
morous as  wind.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1607  : 

"  You  know  that  women  oft  are  humourous." 

Again,  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  by  Ben  Jonson  :  "  — a  nymph  of 
a  most  wandering  and  giddy  disposition,  humourous  as  the  air," 
&c. 

Again,  in  The  Silent  Woman  :  "  —  as  proud  as  May,  and  as 
humourous  as  April."     Steevens. 

"As  humorous  as  April"  is  sufficiently  clear.  So,  in  Hey- 
wood's  Challenge  for  Beauty,  1636  :  "  I  am  as  full  of  humours  as 
an  April  day  of  variety  ;  "  but  a  'winter's  day  has  generally  too  de- 
cided a  character  to  admit  Dr.  Johnson's  interpretation,  without 
some  licence :  a  licence  which  yet  our  author  has  perhaps  taken. 
He  may,  however,  have  used  the  word  humorous  equivocally. 
He  abounds  in  capricious  fancies,  as  winter  abounds  in  moisture. 

Malone. 

6  —  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day.]  Alluding  to  the  opinion 
of  some  philosophers,  that  the  vapours  being  congealed  in  the  air 
by  cold,  (which  is  most  intense  towards  the  morning,)  and  being 
afterwards  rarified  and  let  loose  by  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  occasion 
those  sudden  and  impetuous  gusts  of  wind  which  are  called^mcs. 

Warburton. 
So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Case  is  Alter'd : 

"  Still  wrack'd  with  winds  more  foul  and  contrary 
"  Than  any  northern  gust  or  southern  jlam." 


sc.  if.  KING  HENRY  IV.  177 

His  temper,  therefore,  must  be  well  observ'd: 
Chide  him  for  faults,  and  do  it  reverently, 
When  you  perceive  his  blood  inclin'd  to  mirth : 
But,  being  moody,  give  him  line  and  scope ; 
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 7, 
(As,  force,  perforce,  the  age  will  pour  it  in,) 
Shall  never  leak,  though  it  do  work  as  strong 
As  aconitum 8,  or  rash  gunpowder  9. 

Cla.  I  shall  observe  him  with  all  care  and  love. 

K.  Hen.  Why  art  thou  not  at  Windsor  with  him, 
Thomas  ? 

Again,  in  Arden  of  Fevershara,  1592  : 

"  And  saw  a  dreadful  southern  Jlaw  at  hand." 

Chapman  uses  the  word  in  his  translation  of  Homer ;  and,  I 
believe,  Milton  has  it  in  the  same  sense.     Steevens. 

Our  author  and  his  contemporaries  frequently  use  the  word^atu 
for  a  sudden  gust  of  wind ;  but  a  gust  of  wind  congealed  is,  I  con- 
fess, to  me  unintelligible.  Mr.  Edwards  says,  that  "  Jlaws  are 
small  blades  of  ice  which  are  struck  on  the  edges  of  the  water  in 
winter  mornings."     Malone. 

Flaw  in  Scotch,  is  a  storm  of  snow.  See  Jamieson's  Dictionary 
in  voce.     Boswell. 

7  Mingled  with  venom  of  suggestion,]  Though  their  blood 
be  inflamed  by  the  temptations  to  which  youth  is  peculiarly  sub- 
ject.    See  vol.  iv.  p.  60,  n.  6.     Malone. 

8  As  aconitum,]  The  old  writers  employ  the  Latin  word  in- 
stead of  the  English  one,  which  we  now  use. 

So,  in  Heywoods  Brazen  Age,  1613  : 

" till  from  the  foam 

"  The  dog  belch'd  forth,  strong  aconitum  sprung." 
Again  : 

**  With  aconitum  that  in  Tartar  springs."     Steevens. 

9  — rash  gunpowder,]  Rash  is  quick,  violent,  sudden.  This 
representation  of  the  prince  is  a  natural  picture  of  a  young  man, 
whose  passions  are  yet  too  strong  for  his  virtues.     Johnson. 

VOL.  XVIT.  N 


178  SECOND  PART  OF  avtiv. 

Cla.  He  is  not  there  to-day ;  he  dines  in  Lon- 
don. 
K.  Hen.  And  how   accompanied  ?    can'st  thou 

tell  that  ? 
Cla.  With  Poins,   and  other  his  continual  fol- 
lowers. 
K.  Hen.  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 
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  oppos'd  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, 
'Tis  needful,  that  the  most  immodest  word 
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  2.  So,  like  gross  terms, 
The  prince  will,  in  the  perfectness  of  time, 
Cast  off  his  followers :  and  their  memory 

1  —  his  affections  — ]     His  passions  ;  his  inordinate  desires. 

Johnson. 

2  But  to  be  known,  and  hated.]     A  parallel  passage  occurs  in 
Terence : 

— — quo  modo  adolescentulus 

Meretricum  ingenia  et  mores  posset  noscere, 

Mature  utcum  cognorit,  perpetuo  oderit.    Anonymous. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  IV.  179 

Shall  as  a  pattern  or  a  measure  live, 

By  which  his  grace  must  meet  the  lives  of  others; 

Turning  past  evils  to  advantages. 

K.  Hen.  'Tis  seldom,  when  the  bee  doth  leave 
her  comb 

In  the  dead  carrion 3. — Who's  here  ?     Westmore- 
land ? 

Enter  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  unsheath'd, 
But  peace  puts  forth  her  olive  every  where. 
The  manner  how  this  action  hath  been  borne, 
Here  at  more  leisure  may  your  highness  read  ; 
With  every  course,  in  his  particular  4. 

3  'Tis  seldom,  when  the  bee,  &c]  As  the  bee  having  once 
placed  her  comb  in  a  carcase,  stays  by  her  honey,  so  he  that  has 
once  taken  pleasure  in  bad  company,  will  continue  to  associate 
with  those  that  have  the  art  of  pleasing  him.     Johnson. 

*  — in  his  particular.]  We  should  read,  I  think— "  in  this 
particular;  "  that  is,  '  in  this  detail,  in  this  account,'  which  is  mi- 
nute and  distinct.     Johnson. 

His  is  used  for  its,  very  frequently  in  the  old  plays.  The 
modern  editors  have  too  often  made  the  change;  but  it  should 
be  remembered,  (as  Dr.  Johnson  has  elsewhere  observed,)  that 
by  repeated  changes  the  history  of  a  language  will  be  lost. 

Steevens. 

It  may  certainly  have  been  used  so  here,  as  in  almost  every 
other  page  of  our  author.  Mr.  Henley,  however,  observes,  that 
"  his  particular"  may  mean  'the  detail  contained  in  the  letter  of 
Prince  John.  "A  Particular"  is  yet  used  as  a  substantive,  by 
legal  conveyancers,  '  for  a  minute  detail  of  things  singly  enume- 
rated.'    Malone. 

N  2 


180  SfcCOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

K.  Hen.  O  Westmoreland,  thou  art  a  summer 
bird, 
Which  ever  in  the  haunch  of  winter  sings 
The  lifting  up  of  day.     Look !  here's  more  news. 

Enter  Harcourt. 
Har.  From  enemies  heaven  keep  your  majesty ; 
And,  when  they  stand  against  you,  may  they  fall 
As  those  that  1  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  : 
The  manner  and  true  order  of  the  fight, 
This  packet,  please  it  you,  contains  at  large. 

K.  Hen.  And  wherefore  should  these  good  news 
make  me  sick  ? 
Will  fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full, 
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 : — 
O  me !  come  near  me,  now  I  am  much  ill. 

[Swoons. 
P.  Humph.  Comfort,  your  majesty  ! 
Cla.  O  my  royal  father ! 

Rest.    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'll  straight  be 
well. 
Cla.  No,  no;  he  cannot  long  hold  out  these 
pangs ; 


sc.iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  181 

The  incessant  care  and  labour  of  his  mind 

Hath  wrought  the  mure 5,  that  should  confine  it  in, 

i  Hath  wrought  the  mure,  &c]     i.  e.  the  wall.     Pope. 
Wrought  it  thin,  is  made  it  thin  by  gradual  detriment.    Wrought 
is  the  preterite  of  work. 

Mure  is  a  word  used  by  Heywood,  in  his  Brazen  Age,  1613  : 

"  'Till  I  have  scal'd  these  mures,  invaded  Troy." 
Again,  in  his  Golden  Age,  1611  : 

"  Girt  with  a  triple  mure  of  shining  brass." 
Again,  in  his  Iron  Age,  2d  Part,  1632  : 

"  Through  mures  and  counter-mares  of  men  and  steel." 
Again,  in  Dyonese  Settle's  Last  Voyage  of  Capteine  Frobisher, 
12mo.  bl.  1.  1577  :  "  —  the  streightes  seemed  to  be  shut  up  with 
a  long  mure  of  yce — ." 

The  same  thought  occurs  in  Daniel's  Civil  Wars,  &c.  book  iv. 
Daniel  is  likewise  speaking  of  the  sickness  of  King  Henry  IV. : 
"  As  that  the  walls  worn  thin,  permit  the  mind 
"  To  look  out  thorow,  and  his  frailtie  find." 
The  first  edition  of  Daniel's  poem  is  dated  earlier  than  this  play 
of  Shakspeare. 

Waller  has  the  same  thought : 

"  The  soul's  dark  cottage,  batter'd  and  decay'd, 

"  Let's  in  new  light  thro'  chinks  that  time  has  made." 

Steevens. 
On  this  passage  the  elegant  and  learned  Bishop  of  Worcester 
has  the  following  criticism  :  "  At  times  we  find  him  (the  imitator) 
practising  a  different  art ;  not  merely  spreading  as  it  were  and 
laying  open  the  same  sentiment,  but  adding  to  it,  and  by  a  new 
and  studied  device  improving  upon  it.  In  this  case  we  naturally 
conclude  that  the  refinement  had  not  been  made,  if  the  plain  and 
simple  thought  had  not  preceded  and  given  rise  to  it.  You  will 
apprehend  my  meaning  by  what  follows.  Shakspeare  had  said  of 
Henry  the  Fourth  : 

"  *  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.' 
"  You  have  here  the  thought  in  its  first  simplicity.     It  was  not 
unnatural,  after  speaking  of  the  body  as  a  case  or  tenement  of  the 
soul,  the  mure  that  confines  it,  to  say,  that  as  that  case  wears  away 
and  grows  thin,  life  looks  through,  and  is  ready  to  break  out." 

After  quoting  the  lines  of  Daniel,  who,  (it  is  observed,)  "by 
refining  on  this  sentiment,  if  by  nothing  else,  shews  himself  to 
be  the  copyist,"  the  very  learned  writer  adds, — "  here  we  see,  not 
simply  that  life  is  going  to  break  through  the  infirm  and  much- 
worn  habitation,  but  that  the  mind  looks  through,  and  finds  his 
frailty,  that  it  discovers  that  life  will  soon   make  his  escape. — 


182  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

So  thin,  that  life  looks  through,  and  will  break  out. 
P.  Humph.  The  people  fear  me6;    for  they  do 
observe 
Unfather'd  heirs 7,  and  loathly  birds  of  nature : 
The  seasons  change  their  manners 8,  as  the  year  9 

Daniel's  improvement  then  looks  like  the  artifice  of  a  man  that 
would  outdo  his  master.  Though  he  fails  in  the  attempt ;  for  his 
ingenuity  betrays  him  into  a  false  thought.  The  mind,  looking 
through,  does  not  find  its  own  frailty,  but  the  frailty  of  the  build- 
ing it  inhabits."  Hurd's  Dissertation  on  the  Marks  of  Imitation. 
This  ingenious  criticism,  the  general  principles  of  which  cannot 
be  controverted,  shows,  however,  how  dangerous  it  is  to  suffer  the 
mind  to  be  led  too  far  by  an  hypothesis  : — for  after  all,  there  is 
very  good  reason  to  believe  that  Shakspeare,  and  not  Daniel,  was 
the  imitator.  The  Dissention  between  the  Houses  of  Yorke 
and  Lancaster,  in  verse,  penned  by  Samuel  Daniel,  was  entered 
on  the  Stationers'  books,  by  Simon  Waterson,  in  October,  1594«, 
and  four  books  of  his  work  were  printed  in  1595.  The  lines 
quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens  are  from  the  edition  of  The  Civil  Wars, 
in  1609.  Daniel  made  many  changes  in  his  poems  in  every  new 
edition.  In  the  original  edition  in  1595,  the  verses  run  thus; 
book  iii.  st.  116  : 

"  Wearing  the  wall  so  thin,  that  now  the  mind 
"  Might  well  look  thorough,  and  his  frailty  find." 
His  is  used  for  its,  and  refers  not  to  mind,  (as  is  supposed 
above,)  but  to  wall. — There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  this  play 
was  written  before  1594,  and  it  is  highly  probable  that  Shak- 
speare had  read  Daniel's  poem  before  he  sat  down  to  compose 
these  historical  dramas.     Malone. 

6  The  people  fear  me;]  i.  e.  make  me  afraid.    Wakburton. 
So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

" this  aspect  of  mine     * 

"  Hathjear'd  the  valiant."     Steevens. 

7  Unfather'd  heirs,]  That  is,  equivocal  births :  animals  that 
had  no  animal  progenitors  ;  productions  not  brought  forth  accord- 
ing to  the  stated  laws  of  generation.     Johnson. 

8  The  seasons  change  their  manners,]  This  is  finely  expressed  ; 
alluding  to  the  terms  of  rough  and  harsh,  mild  and  soft,  applied  to 
weather.     Warburton. 

9  —  as  the  year — ]  i.  e.  as  if  the  year,  &c.  So,  in  Cymbe- 
line: 

"  He  spake  of  her,  as  Dian  had  hot  dreams, 
"  And  she  alone  were  cold." 
In  the  subsequent  line  our  author  seems  to  have  been  thinking 
oMeap~year.     Malone. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  183 

Had  found  some  months  asleep,  and  leap'd  them 
over. 
Cla.  The  river  hath  thrice  flow'd  \  no  ebb  be- 
tween : 
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. 
P.  Humph.  This  apoplex  will,  certain,  be  his  end. 
K.  Hen.  I  pray  you,  take  me  up,  and  bear  me 
hence 
Into  some  other  chamber :  softly,  'pray. 

[They  convey  the  King  into  an  inner  part  of 
the  room,  and  place  him  on  a  Bed. 
Let  there  be  no  noise  made,  my  gentle  friends ; 
Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand 
Will  whisper  musick  to  my  weary  spirit 2. 


1  The  river  hath  thrice  flow'd.]  This  is  historically  true.  It 
happened  on  the  12th  of  October,  1411.     Steevens. 

2  Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand 

Will  whisper  musick  to  my  weary  spirit.]     So,  in  the  old 
anonymous  King  Henry  V. : 

" Depart  my  chamber, 

"  And  cause  some  musick  to  rock  me  asleep."  Steevens. 
"  Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand — ."     Dull  signifies 
melancholy,  gentle,  soothing.     Johnson. 

I  believe  it  rather  means  producing  dullness  or  heaviness  ;  and 
consequently  sleep.  It  appears  from  various  parts  of  our  author's 
works,  that  he  thought  musick  contributed  to  produce  sleep.  So, 
in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  : 

"  — —  musick  call,  and  strike  more  dead 
"  Than  common  sleep,  of  all  these  five  the  sense." 
Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost : 

"  And  when  love  speaks,  the  voice  of  all  the  gods 
"  Makes  heaven  drowsy  with  the  harmony." 
So  also  in  The  Tempest,  Act  I.  when  Alonzo,  Gonzalo,  &c.  are 
to  be  overpowered  by  sleep,  Ariel,  to  produce  this  effect,  enters, 
"  playing  solemn  musick."     Malone. 

This  notion  is  not  peculiar  to  Shakspeare,  So,  in  the  exquisite 
lines  by  Strode  in  Commendation  of  Musick : 


184  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

War.  Call  for  the  musick  in  the  other  room. 
K.  Hen.  Set   me   the   crown   upon   my   pillow 

here  3. 
Cla.  His  eye  is  hollow,  and  he  changes  much. 
War.  Less  noise,  less  noise. 

Enter  Prince  Henry. 

P.  Hen.  Who  saw  the  duke  of  Clarence  ? 

Cla.  I  am  here,  brother,  full  of  heaviness. 

"  Oh,  lull  me,  lull  me,  charming  air, 

"  My  senses  rocked  with  wonder  sweet ! 
**  Like  snow  on  wool  thy  fallings  are, 
"  Soft,  like  a  spirit,  are  thy  feet. 
"  Grief  who  need  fear, 
"  That  hath  an  ear  ? 
"  Down  let  him  lie, 
"  And  slumbering  die, 
"  And  change  his  soul  for  harmony."     Boswell. 
3  Set   me  the   crown  upon  my  pillow  here.]     It  is  still  the 
custom  in  France  to  place  the  crown  on  the  King's  pillow,  when 
he  is  dying. 

Holinshed,  p.  541,  speaking  of  the  death  of  King  Henry  IV. 
says  :  "  During  this  his  last  sicknesse,  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  laie  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  linnen  cloth. 

**.  The  prince  his  sonne  being  hereof  advertised,  entered  into 
the  chamber,  tooke  awaie  the  crowne  and  departed.  The  father 
being  suddenlie  revived  out  of  that  trance,  quicklie  perceived  the 
lacke  of  his  crowne ;  and  having  knowledge  that  the  prince  his 
sonne  had  taken  it  awaie,  caused  him  to  come  before  his  pre- 
sence, requiring  of  him  what  he  meant  so  to  misuse  himselfe. 
The  prince  with  a  good  audacitie  answered  ;  Sir,  to  mine  and  all 
men's  judgements  you  seemed  dead  in  this  world,  and  therefore  I 
as  your  next  heire  apparant  tooke  that  as  mine  owne,  and  not  as 
yours.  Well,  faire  sonne,  (said  the  kinge  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  enemies,  as  you  have  doone,"  &c. 

Steevens. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  185 

P.  Hen.  How  now  I  rain  within  doors,  and  none 
abroad ! 
How  doth  the  king  ? 

P.  Humph.  Exceeding  ill. 

P.  Hen.  Heard  he  the  good  news  yet  ? 

Tell  it  him. 

P.  Humph.  He  alter'd  much  upon  the  hearing  it4. 

P.  Hen.  If  he  be  sick 
With  joy,  he  will  recover  without  physick. 

War.  Not  so   much    noise,  my  lords : — sweet 
prince,  speak  low ; 
The  king  your  father  is  dispos'd  to  sleep. 

Cla.  Let  us  withdraw  into  the  other  room. 

War.  Will't  please  your  grace  to  go  along  with 
us? 

P.  Hen.  No  ;  I   will  sit  and  watch  here  by  the 
king.  [Exeunt  all  but  P.  Henry. 

Why  doth  the  crown  lie  there  upon  his  pillow, 
Being  so  troublesome  a  bedfellow  ? 
O  polished  perturbation  !  golden  care ! 
That  keep'st  the  ports  of  slumber 5  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  biggin  bound  6, 

«  Tell  it  him, 
He  alter'd  much   upon  the  hearing  it,]     For  the  sake  of 
metre,  I  would  read — 
n  Tell 't  him. 

"  He  alter'd  much  in  hearing  it."     Steevens. 
*  — the  ports  of  slumber — ]     Are  the  gates  of  slumber.     So, 
in  Timon  of  Athens  :  "  —  Our  uncharged  ports."     Again,  in  Ben 
Jonson's  80th  Epigram  :  "  —  The  ports  of  death   are  sins  — ." 
Ports  is  the  ancient  military  term  for  gates.     Steevens. 
The  word  is  yet  used  in  this  sense  in  Scotland.     Malone. 
6  —  homely  biggin  bound,]     A  kind  of  cap,  at  present  worn 
only  by  children ;  but  so  called  from  the  cap  worn  by  the  Beguines, 
an  order  of  nuns. 

So,  in  Monsieur  Thomas,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  1639  : 
"  — —  were  the  devil  sick  now, 
"  His  horns  saw'd  off,  and  his  head  bound  with  a  biggin." 


186  SECOND  PART  OF  act  jr. 

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, 
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  fa- 
ther ! — 
This  sleep  is  sound  indeed ;  this  is  a  sleep, 
That  from  this  golden  rigol 7  hath  divorc'd 
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  : 
My  due,  from  thee,  is  this  imperial  crown ; 
Which,  as  immediate  from  thy  place  and  blood, 
Derives  itself  to  me.     Lo,  here  it  sits, — 

[Putting  it  on  his  head. 
Which  heaven  shall  guard :  And  put  the  world's 

whole  strength 
Into  one  giant  arm,  it  shall  not  force 
This  lineal  honour  from  me  :  This  from  thee 
Will  I  to  mine  leave,  as  'tis  left  to  me.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  Warwick !  Gloster !  Clarence ! 

Re-enter  Warwick,  and  the  rest. 
Cla.  Doth  the  king  call  ? 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Volpone  : 

"  Get  you  a  biggin  more,  your  brain  breaks  loose." 

Steevens. 
?  —  this  golden  rigol — ]     Rigol  means  a  circle.     I  know  not 
that  it  is  used  by  any  author  but  Shakspeare,  who  introduces  it 
likewise  in  his  Rape  of  Lucrece : 

"  About  the  mourning  and  congealed  face 
"  Of  that  black  blood,  a  watry  rigol  goes."     Steevens. 
We  meet  with  ringol,  which  was  perhaps  the  right  spelling  of 
the  word,  in  Nashe's  Lenten  Stufle :  "  What  needs  there  any 
more  ambages,  the  ringoll  or  ringed  circle  was  compast  and  chakt 
out."    Malone. 


sc.  m  KING  HENRY  IV,  187 

War,    What  would  your  majesty  ?    How  fares 

your  grace  ? 
K.  Hen.  Why  did  you  leave  me  here  alone,  my 

lords  ? 
Cla.  We  left  the  prince  my  brother  here,  my 
liege, 
Who  undertook  to  sit  and  watch  by  you. 

K.  Hen.  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. 
P.  Humph.  He  came  not  through  the  chamber 

where  we  stay'd. 
K.  Hen.  Where  is  the  crown  ?  who  took  it  from 

my  pillow  ? 
War.  When  we  withdrew,  my  liege,  we  left  it 

here. 
K.  Hen.  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, 
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 8,   their 
brains  with  care, 

*  Folio  omits  He  is  not  here.    \  Folio,  sleeps. 

8  —  with  thoughts,]     Concerning  the  education  and  promo- 
tion of  their  children.     So,  afterwards: 

"  For  this  they  have  been  thoughtful  to  invest 
"  Their  sons  with  arts,"  &c. 
Mr.  Rowe  and  the  subsequent  editors  read — with  thought ;  but 
the  change  does  not  appear  to  me  necessarv.     Malone. 

6 


188  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

Their  bones  with  industry : 

For  this  they  have  engrossed  and  pil'd  up 

The  cankerd  heaps  of  strange -achieved  gold ; 

For  this  they  have  been  thoughtful  to  invest 

Their  sons  with  arts,  and  martial  exercises : 

When,  like  the  bee,  tolling  from  every  flower  9 

The  virtuous  sweets ; 

Our  thighs   pack'd l   with  wax,   our  mouths  with 

honey, 
We  bring  it  to  the  hive ;  and,  like  the  bees, 
Are  murder'd  for  our  pains.     This  bitter  taste 
Yield  his  engrossments  2  to  the  ending  father. — 

Re-enter  Warwick. 

Now,  where  is  he  that  will  not  stay  so  long 
Till  his  friend  sickness  hath  determin'd 3  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. 

K.  Hen.  But  wherefore  did  he  take  away  the 
crown  ? 

9  — tolling  from  every  flower — ]  This  speech  has  been  cor- 
tracted,  dilated,  and  put  to  every  critical  torture,  in  order  to  force 
it  within  the  bounds  of  metre,  and  prevent  the  admission  of  hemis- 
tichs.  I  have  restored  it  without  alteration,  but  with  those  breaks 
which  appeared  to  others  as  imperfections.  The  reading  of  the 
quarto  is  tolling.     The  folio  reads  culling.     Tolling  is  taking  toll. 

Steevens. 

1  Our  thighs  pack'd  — ]  Mr.  Capell  reads — "  Packing  our 
thighs  — ."     Boswell. 

2  Yield  his  engrossments — ]     His  accumulations.     Johnson. 

3  —  determin'd  — ]  i.  e.  ended ;  it  is  still  used  in  this  sense  in 
legal  conveyances.     Reed. 

So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

" as  it  [the  hailstone]  determines,  so 

"  Dissolves  my  life."     Steevens. 
5 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  189 

Re-enter  Prince  Henry, 

Lo,  where  he  comes. — Come  hither  to  me,  Harry: — 
Depart  the  chamber,  leave  us  here  alone. 

[Exeunt  Clarence,  Prince  Humphrey, 
Lords,  8$c. 
P.  Hen.  I  never  thought  to  hear  you  speak  again. 
K.  Hen.  Thy  wish  was  father,  Harry,  to  that 
thought : 
I  stay  too  long  by  thee,  I  weary  thee. 
Dost  thou  so  hunger  for  my  empty  chair, 
That  thou  wilt  needs  invest  thee  with  mine  ho- 
nours 
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 
Is  held  from  falling  with  so  weak  a  wind, 
That  it  will  quickly  drop  :  my  day  is  dim. 
Thou  hast  stol'n  that,  which,  after  some  few  hours, 
Were  thine  without  offence ;  and,  at  my  death, 
Thou  hast  seal'd  up  my  expectation4 : 
Thy  life  did  manifest,  thou  lov'dst  me  not, 
And  thou  wilt  have  me  die  assured  of  it. 
Thou  hid'st  a  thousand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts  ; 
Which  thou  hast  whetted  on  thy  stony  heart, 
To  stab  at  half  an  hour  of  my  life 5. 

4  —  seal'd  up  my  expectation :]     Thou   hast  confirmed  my 
opinion.     Johnson. 

i  —  half  an  hour  of  my  life.]     It  should  be  remembered  that 
Shakspeare  uses  a  few  words  alternately  as  monosyllables  and  dis- 
syllables.    Mr.  Rowe,  whose  ear  was  accustomed  to  the  utmost 
harmony  of  numbers,  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  appears  to  have 
been  little  acquainted  with  our  poet's  manner,  first  added  the  word 
frail  to  supply  the  syllable  which  he  conceived  to  be  wanting. 
The  quarto  writes  the  word  hoioer,  as  it  was  anciently  pronounced. 
So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Case  is  Alter'd,  1609  : 
"  By  twice  so  many  hotvers  as  would  fill 
"  The  circle  of  a  year." 


190  SECOND  PART  OF  ,ici  if. 

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. 

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  ! 

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 6 ; 

The  reader  will  find  many  more  instances  in  the  soliloquy  of 
King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  V.  The  other  editors  [except 
Mr.  Malone]  have  followed  Mr.  Rowe.     Steevens. 

6  England  shall  double  gild  his  treble  guilt  ;]  Evidently  the 
nonsense  of  some  foolish  player :  for  we  must  make  a  difference 
between  what  Shakspeare  might  be  supposed  to  have  written  off 
hand,  and  what  he  had  corrected.  These  scenes  are  of  the  latter 
kind  ;  therefore  such  lines  are  by  no  means  to  be  esteemed  his. 
But,  except  Mr.  Pope,  (who  judiciously  threw  out  this  line,)  not 
one  of  Shakspeare's  editors  seem  ever  to  have  had  so  reasonable 
and  necessaiy  a  rule  in  their  heads,  when  they  set  upon  correcting 
this  author.     Warburton. 

I  know  not  why  this  commentator  should  speak  with  so  much 
confidence  what  he  cannot  know,  or  determine  so  positively  what 
so  capricious  a  writer  as  our  poet  might  either  deliberately  or  wan- 
tonly produce.  This  line  is,  indeed,  such  as  disgraces  a  few  that 
precede  and  follow  it,  but  it  suits  well  enough  with  the  daggers 
hid  in  thought,  and  tvhetted  on  thy  stony  heart ;  and  the  answer 
which  the  Prince  makes,  and  which  is  applauded  [by  the  King] 
for  wisdom,  is  not  of  a  strain  much  higher  than  this  ejected  line. 

Johnson. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  IV.  191 

England  shall  give  him  office,  honour,  might : 
For  the  fifth  Harry  from  curb'd  licence  plucks 
The  muzzle  of  restraint,  and  the  wild  dog 
Shall  flesh  his  tooth  in  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 7  ? 

O,  thou  wilt  be  a  wilderness  again, 
Peopled  with  wolves,  thy  old  inhabitants  ! 

P.  Hen.  O,  pardon  me,  my  liege  !  but  for  my 
tears,  [Kneeling. 

The  moist  impediments  unto  my  speech, 

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, 

How  much  this  play  on  words,  faulty  as  it  is,  was  admired  in  the 
age  of  Shakspeare,  appears  from  the  most  ancient  writers  of  that 
time  having  frequently  indulged  themselves  in  it.  So,  in  Mar- 
lowe's Hero  and  Leander,  1617  : 

"  And  as  amidst  the  enamour'd  waves  he  swims, 
"  The  god  of  gold  a  purpose  guilt  his  limbs  ; 
"  That,  this  word  guilt  including  double  sense, 
"  The  double  guilt  of  his  incontinence 
"  Might  be  express'd." 
Again,  in  Acolastus   his  Afterwit,  a  poem,  by  S.  Nicholson, 
1600: 

*'  O  sacred  thirst  of  golde,  what  canst  thou  not  ? — 
"  Some  terms  thee  gylt,  that  every  soule  might  reade, 
"  Even  in  thy  name,  thy  guilt  is  great  indeede." 
See  also  vol.  xi.  p.  109,  n.  6.     Malone. 

7  —  when  riot  is  thy  care  ?]  i.  e.  Curator.  A  bold  figure.  So 
Eumaeus  is  styled  by  Ovid,  Epist.  I.  : 

immundae  cura  fidelis  harae.     Tyrwhitt. 

One  cannot  help  wishing  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  elegant  explanation  to 
be  true  ;  yet  I  doubt  whether  the  poet  meant  to  say  more  than — 
What  wilt  thou  do,  when  riot  is  thy  regular  business  and  occupa- 
tion ?     Malone. 


192  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

(Which  my  most  true  and  inward  duteous  spirit 
Teacheth 8,)  this  prostrate  and  exterior  bending ! 
Heaven  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  the  crown,  as  having  sense, 
And  thus  upbraided  it.     The  care  on  thee  depending, 
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  me (T cine  potable  9 : 

8  Which  my  most  true,  &c]  True  is  loyal. — This  passage  is 
obscure  in  the  construction,  though  the  general  meaning  is  clear 
enough.  The  order  is,  "  this  obedience  which  is  taught  this  ex- 
terior bending  by  my  duteous  spirit ;  "  or,  "  this  obedience  which 
teaches  this  exterior  bending  to  my  inwardly  duteous  spirit."  I 
know  not  which  is  right.     Johnson. 

The  former  construction  appears  to  me  the  least  exceptionable 
of  the  two ;  but  both  are  extremely  harsh,  and  neither  of  them,  I 
think,  the  true  construction.     Malone. 

The  latter  words — "  this  prostrate  and  exterior  bending  " — ap- 
pear to  me  to  be  merely  explanatory  of  the  former  words — "  this 
obedience."  Suppose  the  intermediate  sentence — "  which  my 
most  true  and  inward-duteous  spirit  teacheth  " — to  be  included  in 
a  parenthesis,  and  the  meaning  I  contend  for  will  be  evident. 

M.  Mason. 

I  have  adopted  Mr.  M.  Mason's  regulation.     Steevens. 

"  Which  my  most  true  and  inward-duteous  spirit 
Teacheth,"     i.  e.  which  my  loyalty  and  inward  sense  of  duty 
prompt  me  to.     The  words,  "  this  prostrate  and  exterior  bending," 
are,  I  apprehend,  put  in  apposition  with  "  obedience,"  which  is 
used  for  obeisance.     Malone. 

9  —  in  med'cine  potable  :]  There  has  long  prevailed  an 
opinion  that  a  solution  of  gold  has  great  medicinal  virtues,  and 
that  the  incorruptibility  of  gold  might  be  communicated  to  the 
body  impregnated  with  it.  Some  have  pretended  to  make  potable 
gold,  among  other  frauds  practised  on  credulity.     Johnson. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  193 

But  thou,  most  fine,  most  honoured,  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. 

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 ! 

K.  Hen.  O  my  son  ! 
Heaven  put  it  in  thy  mind  to  take  it  hence, 
That  thou  might'st  win  the  more  thy  father's  love, 
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.    Heaven  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, 

So,  in  the  character  of  the  Doctor  of  Physicke,  by  Chaucer, 
Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  446  : 

"  For  gold  in  phisike  is  a  cordial."     Steevens. 

That  gold  may  be  made  potable  is  certain,  notwithstanding  Dr. 
Johnson's  incredulity.  The  process  is  inserted  in  the  Abbe  Gue- 
nee's  incomparable  work,  intitled,  Lettres  de  quelques  Juifs  a 
M.  de  Voltaire,  5th  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  416,  a  work  which  every  per- 
son unacquainted  with  it  will  be  glad  to  be  referred  to.  Henley. 

See  Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  vol.  viii.  p.  484,  edit. 
1780.     Reed. 

I  have  not  the  Abbe's  book  to  refer  to,  but  I  imagine  he  does 
not  recommend  potable  gold  as  a  medicine,  which  is  the  fraud 
alluded  to  by  Dr.  Johnson.     Boswell. 

VOL.  XVII.  O 


194  SECOND  PART  OF  act  jv. 

Better  opinion,  better  confirmation  ; 
For  all  the  soil  *  of  the  achievement  goes 
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 2 :  all  these  bold  fears 3, 
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 4 :  for  what  in  me  was  purchas'd 5, 
Falls  upon  thee  in  a  more  fairer  sort ; 
So  thou  the  garland  wear'st  successively 6. 
Yet,  though  thou  stand'st  more  sure  than  I  could 
do, 

1  —  soil — ]     Is  spot,  dirt,  turpitude,  reproach.     Johnson. 

2  —  supposed  peace  :]     Counterfeited,  imagined,  not  real. 

Johnson. 

3  —  all  these  bold  fears,]  Fear  is  here  used  in  the  active 
sense,  for  that  which  causesfear.     Johnson. 

"These  bold  fears"  are  'these  audacious  terrors.'  To  fear  is 
often  used  by  Shakspeare  for  to  fright.     Steevens. 

4  Changes  the  mode  :]     Mode  is  the^brm  or  state  of  things. 

Johnson. 

5  — for  what  in  me  was  purchas'd,]  Purchased  seems  to  be 
here  used  in  its  legal  sense,  acquired  by  a  man's  oxvn  act 
(perquisitio)  as  opposed  to  an  acquisition  by  descent.     Malone. 

Purchased,  in  this  place,  does  not  merely  signify  acquired,  but 
acquired  by  unjust  and  indirect  methods.  Purchase,  in  Shakspeare, 
frequently  means  stolen  goods,  or  goods  dishonestly  obtained. 

M.  Mason. 

6  —  successively.]  By  order  of  succession.  Every  usurper 
snatches  a  claim  of  hereditary  right  as  soon  as  he  can. 

Johnson. 
See  The  Speech  of  his  Highness  [Richard  Cromwell]  the  Lord 
Protector,  made  to  both  Houses  of  Parliament,  at  their  first  Meet- 
ing, on  Thursday  the  27th  of  January,  1658:  "  — for  my  own 
part,  being  by  the  providence  of  God,  and  the  disposition  of  the 
law,  my  father's  Successor,  and  bearing  the  place  in  the  govern- 
ment that  I  do,"  &c.     Harl.  Misc.  vol.  i.  p.  21 .     Malone. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  IV.  195 

Thou  art  not  firm  enough,  since  griefs  are  green  ; 
And  all  thy  friends 7,  which  thou  must  make  thy 

friends, 
Have  but  their  stings  and  teeth  newly  ta'en  out ; 
By  whose  fell  working  I  was  first  advancd, 
And  by  whose  power  I  well  might  lodge  a  fear 
To  be  again  displac'd  :  which  to  avoid, 
I  cut  them  off8 ;  and  had  a  purpose  now 
To  lead  out  many  to  the  Holy  Land  9 ; 
Lest  rest,  and  lying  still,  might  make  them  look 
Too  near  unto  my  state  \     Therefore,  my  Harry, 

7  And  all  thy  friends,]     Should  not  we  read  ? — 

"  And  all  my  friends  — ."     Tyrwhitt. 

8  —  which  to  avoid 

I  cut  them  off ;]  As  this  passage  stands,  the  King  is  advising 
the  Prince  to  make  those  persons  his  friends,  whom  he  has  already 
cut  off.  We  should  surely  therefore  read,  "  I  cut  some  off,"  in- 
stead of  them.     M.  Mason. 

9  To  lead  out  many  to  the  Holy  Land  ;]  The  sense  is  :  "  Of 
those  who  assisted  my  usurpation,  some  I  have  cut  off,  and  many 
I  intended  to  lead  abroad."  This  journey  to  the  Holy  Land,  of 
which  the  King  very  frequently  revives  the  mention,  had  two  mo- 
tives, religion  and  policy.  He  durst  not  wear  the  ill-gotten  crown 
without  expiation,  but  in  the  act  of  expiation  he  contrives  to  make 
his  wickedness  successful.    Johnson. 

I  confess,  I  have  no  distinct  comprehension  of  the  foregoing 
passage,  which  is  ungrammatical  as  well  as  obscure.  Dr.  John- 
son's explanation  pre-supposes  the  existence  of  such  a  reading  as 
is  since  offered  by  Mr.  M.  Mason,  viz.  some  instead  of  them. 

Steevens. 
1  Lest  rest,  and  lying  still,  might  make  them  look 
Too  near  unto  my  state.]     The  expedition  that  Caesar  medi- 
tated against  the  Parthians,   immediately  before  his  death,  has 
been  ascribed  to  the  same  apprehension  which  dictated  to  Henry  a 
journey  to  the  Holy  Land  : 

Invidiam  stimulos  ergo  ut  lenire  furentis, 
Et  capite  insidias,  quas  maturate  quietem 
Non  nescit,  Caesar  factis  avertere  possit, 
Nee  non  externo  maculas  abstergere  hello 
Civiles  ;  cum  jam  Crassi  vindicta  perisset, 
Debita  jamdudum  Latio  ;  jussu  ille  Senatus, 
(Ne  patrum  imminui  videatur  sacra  potestas) 
Decretoque  togae,  mandari  Parthica  bella 
Suppliciter  petiit.     Supplm.  Lucani.  lib.  vii.     Malone. 
o  2 


196  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

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 a ! 
And  grant  it  may  with  thee  in  true  peace  live ! 

P.  Hen.  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  Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  Warwick,  Lords, 
and  Others. 

K.  Hen.    Look,  look,  here  comes  my  John  of 

Lancaster. 
P.  John.  Health,  peace,  and  happiness,  to  my 

royal  father ! 
K.  Hen.  Thou  bring'st  me  happiness,  and  peace, 
son  John ; 
But  health,  alack,  with  youthful  wings  is  flown 
From  this  bare,  wither'd  trunk :  upon  thy  sight, 

My  worldly  business  makes  a  period. 

Where  is  my  lord  of  Warwick  ? 

P.  Hen.  My  lord  of  Warwick  ! 

K.  Hen.  Doth  any  name  particular  belong 
Unto  the  lodging  where  I  first  did  swoon  ? 
War.  'Tis  call'd  Jerusalem,  my  noble  lord. 
K.  Hen.  Laud  be  to  God ! — even  there  my  life 
must  end 3. 

2  How  I  came,  &c]  This  is  a  true  picture  of  a  mind  divided 
between  heaven  and  earth.  He  prays  for  the  prosperity  of  guilt 
while  he  deprecates  its  punishment.     Johnson. 

3  Laud  be  to  God  ! — even  there  my  life  must  end.]  "  At 
length  he  recovered  his  speech,  and  understanding  and  perceiving 
himselfe  in  a  strange  place,  which  he  knew  not,  he  willed  to 
know  if  the  chamber  had  anie    particular  name,    whereunto 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  197 

It  hath  been  prophesied  to  me  many  years, 

I  should  not  die  but  in  Jerusalem ; 

Which  vainly  I  suppos'd,  the  Holy  Land : — 

But,  bear  me  to  that  chamber ;  there  I'll  lie ; 

In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die.  [Exeunt. 

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." 
Holinshed,  p.  541. 

The  same  equivocal  prediction  occurs  also  in  the  Orygynale 
Cronykil  of  Androw  of  Wyntown,  b.  vi.  ch.  xii.  v.  47.  Pope 
Sylvester,  having  sold  himself  to  the  devil  for  the  sake  of  worldly 
advancement,  was  desirous  of  knowing  how  long  he  should  live 
and  enjoy  it : 

"  The  dewil  answeryd  hym  agayne, 
"  That  in  all  ese  wythowtyn  payne 
**  He  suld  lyve  in  prosperyte, 
"  Jerusalem  quhill  he  suld  se." 
Our  Pope  soon  afterwards  was  conducted,  by  the  duties  of  his 
office,  into  a  church  he  had  never  visited  before  : 
"  Then  speryd  he,  quhat  thai  oysyd  to  call 
"  That  kyrk.     Than  thai  answeryd  all, 
"  Jerusalem  in  Vy  Laterane,"  &c.  &c. 
And  then  the  prophecy  was  completed  by  his  death.  Steevens. 
The  same  story  of  Pope  Sylvester  is  told  in  Lodge's  Devil  Con- 
jured, where,  however,  the  reader  will  have  the  satisfaction  to  find 
that  his  holiness  at  last  outwitted  the  devil.     The  following  com- 
munication  was   received   by  Mr.   Malone,   from  the  late  very 
learned  and  excellent  Dean  of  Westminster,  nomen  mihi  semper 
honoratum.     Boswell. 

Robert  Guiscard,  king  of  Sicily,  when  invading  the  Greek 
empire,  arrives  at  Cephallenia,  and  lying  at  Cape  Ather,  is'seized 
with  a  fever.  He  asks  for  water;  when  his  people  dispersing 
about  the  island  to  find  a  spring,  one  of  the  inhabitants  addresses 
them: 

'Opare  Tuvrqvi  rrw  vvicov  rr\v  I9ax*]v  hi  ourrn  wpuyv  no\ig  /xeyaArj 
dvaxooo[ArjTOf  IepscraXrjjU,  xa*8ju.gvij,  xdv  tu  xpovu  vps'muTCU.  Iv 
avrn  7r»jyTi  yv  •Kom(j.ov  saaei  xoa  -^/uxpov  vdwp  avaSiSScra.  Txtm  o 
PojX7T£prof  axxaa.$,  Sss*  7roXX»  rwtxavra.  o~ovEO~xzfy,  o~vpi6u\w  «v  tov 
ASepa,  xax  t»v  7roAiv  lepuffakri^pi,  tov  B^KTrafxevov  oloru  Sav<xrov  ewe- 
yivwxe.  xai  yoip  irpo  woXte  tive$  olvtu  EfuzvTiuovrOy  onoict  EJuSaciv 
hi  xoXax.Es  to7$  /xeyifl-Tcwnv    eio-iryttoSat, — on  pkxpi  ri  AQepos  «vt3 


198  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 

Glostershire.     A  Hall  in  Shallow's   House. 

Enter  Shallow,  Falstaff,  Bardolph,  and  Page. 
Shal.  By  cock  and  pye  4,  sir,  you  shall  not  away 
to-night. What,  Davy,  I  say  ! 


Xpsuv  XenupyritrEis.     Anna  Comnena.     Alexias,  lib.  vi.  p.   162. 
Ed.  Paris,  1658. 

The  date  of  Robert's  death  is  1085,  of  our  Henry  IV.  1413, 
and  Anna  the  historian  is  contemporary  with  Robert.  Gibbon, 
who  mentions  Robert's  death  at  Cephallenia,  (vol.  v.  p.  625,)  takes 
no  notice  of  Jerusalem,  which  I  was  surprised  to  find,  as  it  was  a 
circumstance  agreeable  to  his  usual  way  of  thinking,  both  as  a 
classical  and  a  superstitious  fact.  I  think  he  can  hardly  have  in- 
troduced it  elsewhere. 

My  Dear  Sir, 

You  have  here  Henry  IV.  in  Greek.  You  will  not  wonder  at 
Anna's  making  out  Cephallenia  to  be  Ithaca,  when  D'Anville  can 
hardly  find  it  out  with  all  his  learning.  Yet  here  lived  the  hero 
of  Homer  in  arato  non  inglorius. 

How  ^Jerusalem  came  to  have  been  built  in  Cephallenia,  Ishall 
not  attempt  to  explain  ;  but  the  holy  sepulchre  was  visited,  from 
devotion  or  pilgrimage,  several  centuries  before  1085;  and  tem- 
ples might  consequently  have  been  built  in  Cephallenia,  as  well 
as  other  Christian  countries.  A  city  of  Jerusalem  seems  highly 
dubious.  However,  be  the  fiction  what  it  may,  it  is  previous  to 
Henry  IV.  and  corresponds  in  almost  all  its  parts. 

Yours,  very  truly, 

Deanery,  Feb.  19,  1806.  W.  Vincent. 

4  By  cock  and  pye,]  This  adjuration,  which  seems  to  have 
been  very  popular,  is  used  in  Soliman  and  Perseda,  1599  :  "  By 
cock  and  pie  and  mousefoot." 

Again,  in  Wily  Beguiled,  1606  :  "  Now  by  cock  and  pie,  you 
never  spake  a  truer  word  in  your  life." 

Again,  in  The  Two  Angry  Women  of  Abington,  1599 : 
"  Merry  go  sorry,  cock  and  pie,  my  hearts." 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  199 

Fal.  You  must  excuse  me,  master  Robert  Shal- 
low. 


Cock  is  only  a  corruption  of  the  Sacred  Name,  as  appears  from 
many  passages  in  the  old  interludes,  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle, 
&c.  viz.  Cocks'bones,  cocks-wounds,  by  cocks-mother,  and  some 
others. 

Cock's-body,  cock's  passion,  &c.  occur  in  the  old  morality  of 
Hycke  Scorner,  and  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.  Ophelia 
likewise  says  : 

"  — —  By  cock  they  are  to  blame." 

The  pie  is  a  table  or  rule  in  the  old  Roman  offices,  showing,  in  a 
technical  way,  how  to  find  out  the  service  which  is  to  be  read  upon 
each  day. 

Among  some  "  Ordinances,  however,  made  at  Eltham,  in  the 
reign  of  King  Henry  VIII."  we  have — "  Item  that  the  Pye  of 
coals  be  abridged  to  the  one  halfe  that  theretofore  had  been 
served." 

A  printing  letter  of  a  particular  size,  called  the  pica,  was  proba- 
bly denominated  from  the  pie,  as  the  brevier,  from  the  breviary, 
and  the  primer  from  the  primer.     Steevens. 

What  was  called  The  Pie  by  the  clergy  before  the  Reformation, 
was  called  by  the  Greeks  ILva|,  or  the  index.  Though  the  word 
E[iva|  signifies  a  plank  in  its  original,  yet  in  its  metaphorical  sense 
it  signifies  vcaic  i^ypa^y\ii.ivt\,  a  painted  table  or  picture  :  and 
because  indexes  or  tables  of  books  were  formed  into  square 
figures,  resembling  pictures  or  painters'  tables,  hung  up  in  a 
frame,  these  likewise  were  called  THvax.sc,  or,  being  marked  only 
with  the  first  letter  of  the  word,  Ill's  or  Pies.  All  other  deriva- 
tions of  the  word  are  manifestly  erroneous. 

In  the  second  preface  Concerning  the  Service  of  the  Church, 
prefixed  to  the  Common  Prayer,  this  table  is  mentioned  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Moreover  the  number  and  hardness  of  the  rules  called 
the  Pie,  and  the  manifold  changes,"  &c.     Ridley. 

This  oath  has  been  supposed  to  refer  to  the  sacred  name,  and 
to  that  service  book  of  the  Romish  church  which  in  England, 
before  the  Reformation,  was  denominated  a  pie :  but  it  is  impro- 
bable that  a  volume  with  which  the  common  people  would 
scarcely  be  acquainted,  and  exclusively  intended  for  the  use  of  the 
clergy,  could  have  suggested  a  popular  adjuration. 

It  will,  no  doubt,  be  recollected,  that  in  the  days  of  ancient 
chivalry  it  was  the  practice  to  make  solemn  vows  or  engagements 
for  the  performance  of  some  considerable  enterprise.  This  cere- 
mony was  usually  performed  during  some  grand  feast  or  entertain- 
ment, at  which  a  roasted  peacock  or  pheasant,  being  served  up  by 


200 


SECOND  PART  OF 


ACT  V. 


Shal.  I  will  not  excuse  you5 ;  you  shall  not  be 
excused ;  excuses  shall  not  be  admitted  ;  there  is 


ladies  in  a  dish  of  gold  or  silver,  was  thus  presented  to  each 
knight,  who  then  made  the  particular  vow  which  he  had  chosen, 
with  great  solemnity.  When  this  custom  had  fallen  into  disuse, 
the  peacock  nevertheless  continued  to  be  a  favourite  dish,  and 
was  introduced  on  the  table  in  a  pie,  the  head,  with  gilded 
beak,  being  proudly  elevated  above  the  crust,  and  the  splendid 
tail  expanded.  Other  birds  of  smaller  value  were  introduced  in 
the  same  manner,  and  the  recollection  of  the  old  peacock  vows 
might  occasion  the  less  serious,  or  even  burlesque,  imitation  of 
swearing  not  only  by  the  bird  itself  but  also  by  the  pie  ;  and 
hence  probably  the  oath  by  cock  and  pie,  for  the  use  of  which  no 
very  old  authority  can  be  found.  The  vow  to  the  peacock  had 
even  got  into  the  mouths  of  such  as  had  no  pretensions  to  knight- 
hood. Thus,  in  The  Merchant's  Second  Tale,  or  the  History  of 
Beryn,  the  host  is  made  to  say, 

"■  I  make  a  votve  to  the  pecock  there  shal  wake  a  foul  mist." 
There  is  an  alehouse  sign  of  the  cock  and  magpie,  which  seems  a 
corruption  of  the  peacock  pie.  Although  the  latter  still  preserved 
its  genuine  appellation  of  the  cock  and  pie,  the  magic  art  of 
modern  painters  would  not  fail  to  produce  a  metamorphosis  like 
that  which  we  have  witnessed  on  many  other  occasions.  Douce. 
"  By  cock  and  pie."  Perhaps  this  is  only  a  ludicrous  oath,  by 
the  common  sign  of  an  alehouse.  Here  is  a  sketch  from  an  old 
one  at  Bewdley : 


"  By  cock  and  pie  and  mousefoot,"  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens, 
looks  as  if  the  oath  had  not  so  solemn  and  sacred  an  origin  as  he 
assigns  it;  but   was  rather  of  the   nature   of  those   adjurations 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  IV.  201 

no  excuse  shall  serve ;  you  shall  not  be  excused. — 
Why,  Davy ! 

Enter  Davy. 

Davy.  Here,  sir. 

Shal.  [Davy,  Davy,  Davy, — let  me  see,  Davy; 
let  me  see : — yea,  marry,  William  cook,  bid  him 
come  hither6. — Sir  John,  you  shall  not  be  excused. 

Davy.  Marry,  sir,  thus ;  those  precepts  cannot 
be  served7:  and,  again,  sir. — Shall  we  sow  the 
headland  with  wheat  ? 


cited  by  him,  from  Decker,  in  a  note  in  the  third  Scene  of  this 
Act :  "  By  these  comfits  and  carratoays,"  &c.     Blakeway. 

The  following  passage  in  A  Catechisme,  containing  the  Surame 
of  Religion,  &c.  by  George  Giffard,  1583,  will  show  that  this 
word  was  not  considered  as  a  corruption  of  the  Sacred  Name : 
"  Men  suppose  that  they  do  not  offende  when  they  do  not  sweare 
falsly ;  and  because  they  will  not  take  the  name  of  God  to 
abuse  it,  they  sware  by  small  thinges,  as  by  cocke  and p ye,  by  the 
mouse foote,  and  many  other  suche  like."     Boswell. 

5  I  will  not  excuse  you  ;  &c]  The  sterility  of  Justice  Shal- 
low's wit  is  admirably  described,  in  thus  making  him,  by  one  of 
the  finest  strokes  of  nature,  so  often  vary  his  phrase,  to  express 
one  and  the  same  thing,  and  that  the  commonest.    Wakbueton. 

6  —  William  cook,  bid  him  come  hither.]  It  appears  from 
this  instance,  as  well  as  many  others,  that  anciently  the  lower 
orders  of  people  had  no  surnames,  or,  if  they  had,  were  only 
called  by  the  titles  of  their  several  professions.  The  cook  of  Wil- 
liam Canynge,  the  royal  Merchant  of  Bristol,  lies  buried  there 
under  a  flat  stone,  near  the  monument  of  his  master,  in  the  beau- 
tiful church  of  St.  Mary  RedclifFe.  On  this  stone  are  represented 
the  ensigns  of  his  trade,  a  skimmer  and  a  knife.  His  epitaph  is 
as  follows :  "  Hie  jacet  Willm'  Coke  quondam  serviens  Willm1. 
Canynges  mercatoris  villse  Bristoll ;  cujus  animae  propitietur 
Deus."  Lazarillo,  in  The  Woman-Hater  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  expresses  a  wish  to  have  his  tomb  ornamented  in  a  like 
manner : 

" for  others'  glorious  shields, 

"  Give  me  a  voider  ;  and  above  my  hearse, 

"  For  a  trutch  sword,  my  naked  knife  stuck  up." 

Steevens. 

7  —  those  precepts  cannot  be  served  :]  Precept  is  a,  justice's 
•warrant.     To  the  offices  which  Falstaff  gives  Davy  in  the  follow- 


202  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Shal.  With  red  wheat,  Davy.  But  for  William 
cook  ; Are  there  no  young  pigeons  ? 

Davy.  Yes,  sir. Here  is  now  the  smith's  note, 

for  shoeing,  and  plough  irons. 

Shal.  Let  it  be  cast8,  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 9  ? 

Shal.    He   shall  answer  it: Some  pigeons, 

Davy ;  a  couple  of  short-legged  hens ;  a  joint  of 
mutton  ;  and  any  pretty  little  tiny  kickshaws,  tell 
William  cook. 

Davy.  Doth  the  man  of  war  stay  all  night,  sir  ? 

Shal.  Yes,  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  back-bitten,  sir  ; 
for  they  have  marvellous  foul  linen. 

Shal.  Well  conceited,  Davy.  About  thy  busi- 
ness, Davy. 

Davy.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  to  countenance  Wil- 
liam Visor  of  Wincot  against  Clement  Perkes  of 
the  hill. 


ing  scene,  may  be  added  that  of  justice's  clerk.     Davy  has  almost 
as  many  employments  as  Scrub  in  The  Stratagem.     Johnson. 

8  Let  it  be  cast,]     That  is,  cast  up,  computed.     M.  Mason. 

9  —  Hinckley  fair?]     Hinckley  is  a  town  in  Leicester. 

Steevens. 
1  —  A  friend  i'  the  court,  &c]     So,  in  Chaucer's  Romaunt  of 
the  Rose,  v.  5540  : 

"  Friendship  is  more  than  cattell 
"  For  Jrende  in  courte  aie  better  is, 
"  Than  peny  is  in  purse,  certis."     Grey. 
'■'  A  friend  in  court  is  worth  a  penny  in  purse/'  is  one  of  Cam- 
den's proverbial  sentences.     See  his  Remaines,  4to.  1605. 

Malone. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  IV.  203 

Shal.  There  are  many  complaints,  Davy,  against 
that  Visor ;  that  Visor  is  an  arrant  knave,  on  my 
knowledge. 

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  for  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 2. 
The  knave  is  mine  honest  friend,  sir ;  therefore,  I 
beseech  your  worship,  let  him  be  countenanced. 

Shal.  Go  to ;  I  say,  he  shall  have  no  wrong. 
Look  about,  Davy.  [Exit  Davy.~\  Where  are 
you,  sir  John  ?  Come,  off  with  your  boots. — Give 
me  your  hand,  master  Bardolph. 

Bard.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  worship. 

Shal.  I  thank  thee  with  all  my  heart,  kind  mas- 
ter Bardolph  : — and  welcome,  my  tall  fellow 3.  [To 
the  Page-\-.~\     Come,  sir  John.       [Exit  Shallow. 

*  Folio,  these.  f  This  direction  is  not  in  the  old  copies. 

2  —  and  if  I  cannot  once  or  twice  in  a  quarter  bear  out  a  knave," 
&c]  This  is  no  exaggerated  picture  of  the  course  of  justice  in 
those  days.  The  Lord  Keeper,  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  in  his  speech 
to  both  houses  of  parliament,  1559,  says,  "  is  it  not  a  monstrous 
disguising  to  have  a  justice  a  maintainer,  acquitting  some  for 
gain,  enditing  others  for  malice,  bearing  with  him  as  his  servant, 
overthrowing  the  other  as  his  enemy."  D'Ewes,  p.  34.  And 
he  uses  the  same  words  in  another  speech,  1571,  ibid.  153.  A 
member  of  the  house  of  commons,  in  1601,  says,  "A  justice  of 
peace  is  a  living  creature  yet  [read  that']  for  half  a  dozen  chickens 
will  dispense  with  half  a  dozen  penal  statutes. — If  a  warrant 
come  from  the  lord  of  the  council  to  levy  a  hundred  men,  he  will 
levy  two  hundred,  and  what  with  chopping  in  and  chusing  out, 

he'll  gain  a  hundred  pounds  by  the  bargain  :  nay, he  will 

write  the  warrant  himself,  and  you  must  put  two  shillings  in  his 
pocket  as  his  clerk's  fee  (when  God  knows  he  keeps  but  two  or 
three  hindes,)  for  his  better  maintenance."    P.  661.    Blareway. 

3  —  my  tall  fellow.]     Whether  the  epithet  tall,  in  the  pre- 


204  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Fal.  I'll  follow  you,  good  master  Robert  Shallow. 
Bardolph,  look  to  our  horses.  [Exeunt  Bardolph 
and  Page.~]  If  I  were  sawed  into  quantities,  I  should 
make  four  dozen  of  such  bearded  hermit's  staves 3 
as  master  Shallow  4.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing,  to 
see  the  semblable  coherence  of  his  men's  spirits  and 
his :  They,  by  observing  him,  do  bear  themselves 
like  foolish  justices ;  he,  by  conversing  with  them, 
is  turned  into  a  justice-like  serving  man ;  their  spi- 
rits are  so  married  in  conjunction  with  the  partici- 
pation of  society,  that  they  flock  together  in  con- 
sent 5,  like  so  many  wild  geese.  If  I  had  a  suit  to 
master  Shallow,  I  would  humour  his  men,  with  the 
imputation  of  being  near  their  master 6 :  if  to  his 
men  I  would  curry  with  master  Shallow,  that  no 
man  could  better  command  his  servants.  It  is  cer- 
tain, that  either  wise  bearing  or  ignorant  carriage, 

sent  instance,  is  used  with  reference  to  the  diminutive  size  of  the 
page  or  has  the  ancient  signification — gallant,  let  the  reader 
determine.     Thus,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  eleventh  Iliad  : 

"  ■ as  little  suffer  I 

"  In  this  same  tall  exploit  of  thine."     Steevens. 
3  — bearded  hermit's  staves — ]     He  had  before  called  him 
the  starved  justice.     His  want  of  flesh  is  a  standing  jest. 

Johnson. 
*•  —master  Shallow.]      Shallow's  folly  seems  to  have  been 
almost  proverbial.     So,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix,  1602:  "  —  We 
must  have  false  fires  to  amaze  these  spangle  babies,  these  true 
heirs  of  master  Justice  Shallow."     Steevens. 

5  —  they  flock  together  in  consent,]  i.  e.  in  concentu,  or  in 
one  mind,  one  party.     So,  Macbeth  : 

"  If  you  shall  cleave  to  my  consent." 
See  vol.  xi.  p.  92,   n.  3,  and  note  on  King  Henry  VI.  Part  I. 
Act  I.  Sc.  I.  line  5.     The  word,  however,  may  be  derived  from 
consensio,  consensus,  Lat.     Steevens. 

" — in  concent,"  i.  e.  in  union,  in  accord.  In  our  author's 
time  the  word  in  this  sense  was  written  concent,  (as  it  here  is  in 
the  old  copy,)  and  that  spelling  continued  to  Cowley's  time. 
See  Davideis,  book  iii. : 

"  Learning  consent  and  concord  from  his  lyre."    Malone. 

6  —  near  their  master :]  i.  e.  admitted  to  their  master's  con- 
fidence.    Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  205 

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  wear- 
ing-out of  six  fashions,  (which  is  four  terms,  or  two 
actions  7,)  and  he  shall  laugh  without  intervallums. 
O,  it  is  much,  that  a  lie,  with  a  slight  oath,  and  a 
jest,  with  a  sad  brow 8,  will  do  with  a  fellow  that 
never  had  the  ache9  in  his  shoulders!  O,  you  shall 
see  him  laugh,  till  his  face  be  like  a  wet  cloak  ill 
laid  up. 

Shal.  [Within.']  Sir  John ! 

Fal.  I  come,  master  Shallow:  I  come,  master 
Shallow.  [Exit  Falstaff. 

SCENE  II. 

Westminster.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Warwick,  and  the  Lord  Chief  Justice. 
War.  How  now,  my  lord  chief  justice  ?  whither 

away  ? 
Ch.  Just.  How  doth  the  king  ? 
War.    Exceeding  well ;    his  cares  are  now  all 

ended. 
Ch.  Just.  I  hope,  not  dead. 
War.  He's  walk'd  the  way  of  nature ; 

And,  to  our  purposes,  he  lives  no  more. 

7  —  two  actions,]  There  is  something  humorous  in  making  a 
spendthrift  compute  time  by  the  operation  of  an  action  for  debt. 

Johnson. 

8  —  a  sad  brow,]  i.  e.  a  serious  face.  So,  in  The  Winter's 
Tale: 

"  My  father  and  the  gentlemen  are  in  sad  talk." 

Steevens. 

9  —  fellow  that  never  had  the  ache  — ]  That  is,  a  young 
fellow,  one  whose  disposition  to  merriment  time  and  pain  have 
not  yet  impaired.     Johnson. 


206  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

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, 
To  welcome  the  condition  of  the  time ; 
Which  cannot  look  more  hideously  upon  me 
Than  I  have  drawn  it  in  my  fantasy. 

Enter  Prince  John,  Prince  Humphrey,  Clarence, 
Westmoreland,  and  Others. 

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.  Alas,  I  fear,  all  will  be  overturn'd. 

P.  John.  Good  morrow,  cousin  Warwick. 

P.  Humph.  Cla.  Good  morrow,  cousin. 

P.  John.  We  meet  like  men  that  had  forgot  to 
speak. 

War.  We  do  remember ;  but  our  argument 
Is  all  too  heavy  to  admit  much  talk. 

P.  John.  Well,  peace  be  with  him  that  hath  made 
us  heavy ! 

Ch.  Just.  Peace  be  with  us,  least  we  be  heavier ! 

P.  Humph.    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. 

P.  John.  Though  no  man  be  assur'd  what  grace 
to  find, 
You  stand  in  coldest  expectation  : 
I  am  the  sorrier ;  'would,  'twere  otherwise. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  IV.  207 

Cla.  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 2. 

i  — impartial  conduct — ]  Thus  the  quartos.  The  folio 
reads — imperial.     Steevens. 

Impartial  is  confirmed  by  a  subsequent  speech  addressed  by 
the  King  to  the  Chief  Justice : 

•*  ■ •  That  you  use  the  same 

"  With  the  like  bold,  just,  and  impartial  spirit, 
"  As  you  have  done  'gainst  me."     Malone. 
2  A  ragged  and  forestall'd   remission.]     Ragged  has   no 
sense  here.     We  should  read:  i 

"  A  rated  and  forestall'd  remission." 
i.  e.  remission  that  must  be  sought  for,  and  bought  with  suppli- 
cation.    Warburton. 

Different  minds  have  different  perplexities.  I  am  more  puzzled 
•with forestall'd  than  with  ragged ;  for  ragged,  in  our  author's 
licentious  diction,  may  easily  signify  beggarly,  mean,  base,  ig- 
nominious ;  but  forestalled  I  know  not  how  to  apply  to  remission 
in  any  sense  primitive  or  figurative.  I  should  be  glad  of  another 
word,  but  cannot  find  it.  Perhaps,  by  forestall'd  remission,  he 
may  mean  a  pardon  begged  by  a  voluntary  confession  of  offence, 
and  anticipation  of  the  charge.     Johnson. 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  two  different  passages  in  Mas- 
singer.     In  The  Duke  of  Milan,  Sforza  says  to  the  Emperor  : 
"  Nor  come  I  as  a  slave — 
"  Falling  before  thy  feel,  kneeling  and  howling 
*'  For  a,  forestall'd  remission." 
And,  in  The  Bondman,  Pisander  says  : 

" And  sell 

"  Ourselves  to  most  advantage,  than  to  trust 
"  To  a. forestall'd  remission." 
In  all  these  passages  a  forestall'd  remission  seems  to  mean,  a 
remission  that  it  is  predetermined  shall  not  be  granted,  or  will  be 
rendered  nugatory.  Shakspeare  uses,  in  more  places  than  one, 
the  word  forestall  in  the  sense  of  to  prevent.  Horatio  says  to 
Hamlet,  "  If  your  mind  dislike  any  thing,  obey  it.  I  will  fore- 
stall their  repair  hither."  In  this  very  play,  the  Prince  says  to 
the  King: 

"  But  for  my  tears,  &c. 

"  I  had  forestall'd  this  dear  and  deep  rebuke." 


208  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

If  truth  and  upright  innocency  fail  me, 
I'll  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  V. 

Ch.  Just.  Good  morrow ;  and  heaven  save  your 
majesty. 

King.  This  new  and  gorgeous  garment,  majesty, 
Sits  not  so  easy  on  me  as  you  think. — 
Brothers,  you  mix  your  sadness  with  some  fear ; 
This  is  the  English,  not  the  Turkish  court3 ; 
Not  Amurath  an  Amurath  succeeds, 
But  Harry  Harry4:  Yet  be  sad,  good  brothers, 


In  Hamlet,  the  King  says  : 

"  And  what's  in  prayer,  but  this  twofold  force, — 
"  To  he  forestalled,  ere  we  come  to  fall, 
"  Or  pardon'd,  being  down  ?  "     M.  Mason. 
I  believe,  Jbrestall'd  only  means  asked  before  it  is  granted. 
If  he  will  grant  me  pardon  unasked,  so ;  if  not,   I  will  not  con- 
descend to  solicit  it.     In  support  of  the  interpretation  of 'forestall 'd 
remission,   i.  e.  a  remission  obtained  by  a  previous  supplication, 
the  following  passage  in  Cymbeline  may  be  urged  : 

" ■  may 

' '  This  night  forestall  him  of  the  coming  day !  " 
That  ragged  has  been  rightly  explained,    has   been   already 
shown,  see  p.  18. 

Malone. 

3  —  not  the  Turkish  court ;]     Not  the  court  where  the  prince 
that  mounts  the  throne  puts  his  brothers  to  death.     Johnson. 

4  Not  Amurath  an  Amurath  succeeds, 

But  Harry  Harry :]  Amurath  the  Third  (the  sixth  Emperor 
of  the  Turks)  died  on  January  the  18th,  1596-6.  The  people 
being  generally  disaffected  to  Mahomet,  his  eldest  son,  and  in- 
clined to  Amurath,  one  of  his  younger  children,  the  Emperor's 
death  was  concealed  for  ten  days  by  the  Janizaries,  till  Mahomet 
came  from  Amasia  to  Constantinople.  On  his  arrival  he  was 
saluted  Emperor,  by  the  great  Bassas,  and  others  his  favourers  ; 
"  which  done,  (says  Knolles,)  he  presently  after  caused  all  his 
brethren  to  be  invited  to  a  solemn  feast  in  the  court ;  whereunto 
they,  yet  ignorant  of  their  father's  death,  came  chearfully,  as 
men  fearing  no  harm  :  but,  being  come,  'were  there  all  most  mi- 
serably strangled"'     It  is  highly  probable  that  Shakspeare  here 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  IV.  209 

For  to  speak  truth,  it  very  well  becomes  you ; 

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  assur'd, 

I'll  be  your  father  and  your  brother  too  ; 

Let  me  but  bear  your  love,  I'll  bear  your  cares, 

Yet  weep,  that  Harry's  dead ;  and  so  will  I : 

But  Harry  lives,  that  shall  convert  those  tears, 

By  number,  into  hours  of  happiness. 

P.  John,  8$c.  We  hope  no  other  from  your  ma- 
jesty.       \ 

King.  You  all  look  strangely  on  me  : — and  you 
most;  [To  the  Chief  Justice. 

You  are,  I  think,  assur'd  I  love  you  not. 

Ch.  Just.  I  am  assur'd,  if  I  be  measur'd  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 
The  immediate  heir  of  England !  Was  this  easy 5  ? 
May  this  be  wash'd  in  Lethe,  and  forgotten  ? 

Ch.  Just.  I  then  did  use  the  person  of  your  fa- 
ther; 

alludes  to  this  transaction ;  which  was  pointed  out  to  me  by  Dr. 
Farmer. 

This  circumstance,  therefore,  may  fix  the  date  of  this  play 
subsequently  to  the  beginning  of  the  year  1596;  and  perhaps  it 
was  written  while  this  fact  was  yet  recent.     Malone. 

5  — Was   this   easy?]      That    is,    was    this   not   grievous? 
Shakspeare  has  easy  in  this  sense  elsewhere.     Johnson. 
Thus,  perhaps,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  I. : 

" these  faults  are  easy,  quickly  answer'd." 

"  Was  this  easy?  "  may  mean, — was  this  a  slight  offence  ? 
Thus,  Lord  Surrey : 

"  And  easy  sighes,  such  as  folkes  draw  in  love."  Steevens. 
VOL.  XVII.  P 


210  SECOND  PART  OF  act  r. 

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, 

And  struck  me  in  my  very  seat  of  judgment6 ; 

Whereon,  as  an  offender  to  your  father, 

I  gave  bold  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 7,  and  blunt  the  sword 

That  guards  the  peace  and  safety  of  your  person : 

Nay,  more ;  to  spurn  at  your  most  royal  image, 

And  mock  your  workings  in  a  second  body8. 

Question  your  royal  thoughts,  make  the  case  yours ; 

Be  now  the  father,  and  propose  a  son 9 : 

Hear  your  own  dignity  so  much  profan'd, 

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  ; 


6  And  struck  me  in  my  very  seat  of  judgment ;]  See  the  note 
at  the  end  of  this  play.     BoswELt. 

1  To  trip  the  course  of  law,]  To  defeat  the  process  of  jus- 
tice ;  a  metaphor  taken  from  the  act  of  tripping  a  runner. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  Hamlet: 

"  Then  trip  him,  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  heaven." 

Steevens. 

8  And  mock  your  workings  in  a  second  body.]  To  treat  with 
contempt  your  acts  executed  by  a  representative.     Johnson. 

9  — and  propose  a  son:]  i.  e.  image  to  yourself  a  son, 
contrive  for  a  moment  to  think  you  have  one.  So,  in  Titus  An- 
dronicus : 

"  — — —  a  thousand  deaths  I  could  propose."     Steevens. 


sen.  KING  HENRY  IV.  211 

And,  as  you  are  a  king,  speak  in  your  state *, — 
What  I  have  done,  that  misbecame  my  place, 
My  person,  or  my  liege's  sovereignty. 

Xing.  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  : 
And  not  less  happy,  having  such  a  son, 
That  would  deliver  up  his  greatness  so 
Into  the  hands  of  justice. — You  did  commit  me a : 
For  which,  I  do  commit  into  your  hand 
The  unstained  sword  that  you  have  usd  to  bear ; 
With  this  remembrance 3,  —  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 
To  your  well-practisd,  wise  directions. 
And,  princes  all,  believe  me,  I  beseech  you ; — 
My  father  is  gone  wild4  into  his  grave, 

1  — in  your  state,]  In  your  regal  character  and  office,  not 
with  the  passion  of  a  man  interested,  but  with  the  impartiality  of 
a  legislator.     Johnson. 

2  — You  did  commit  me,  &c]  So,  in  the  play  on  this  sub- 
ject, antecedent  to  that  of  Shakspeare : 

"  You  sent  me  to  the  Fleet ;  and  for  revengement, 
"  I  have  chosen  you  to  be  the  protector 
tl  Over  my  realm."     Steevens. 

3  —  remembrance,]     That  is,  admonition.     Johnson. 

4  My  father  is  gone  wild — ]  Mr.  Pope,  by  substituting 
tvail'd  for  toild,  without  sufficient  consideration,  afforded  Mr. 
Theobald  much  matter  of  ostentatious  triumph.     Johnson. 

The  meaning  is — Mv  ivild  dispositions  having  ceased  on  my 

P  2 


212  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

For  in  his  tomb  lie  my  affections  ; 
And  with  his  spirit  sadly  I  survive 5, 
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 : 
Now  doth  it  turn,  and  ebb  back  to  the  sea : 
Where  it  shall  mingle  with  the  state  of  floods 6, 

father's  death,  and  being  now  as  it  were  buried  in  his  tomb,  he 
and  wildness  are  interred  in  the  same  grave. 

A  passage  in  King  Henry  V.  Act  I.  Sc.  I.  very  strongly  confirms 
this  interpretation : 

"  The  courses  of  his  youth  promis'd  it  not : 
"  The  breath  no  sooner  left  his  father's  body, 
"  But  that  his  wildness,  mortified  in  him, 
"  Seem'd  to  die  too." 
So,  in  King  Henry  VIII. : 

"  And  when  old  time  shall  lead  him  to  his  end, 
"  Goodness,  and  he,  fill  up  one  monument." 
A  kindred  thought  is  found  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona : 
"  And  so  suppose  am  I ;  for  in  his  grave 
"  Assure  thyself  my  love  is  buried."     Malone. 

5  — with  his  spirit  sadly  I  survive,]  Sadly  is  the  same  as 
soberly,  seriously,  gravely.     Sad  is  opposed  to  wild.     Johnson. 

The  quarto  and  first  folio  have  spirits.  The  correction  was 
made  by  the  editor  of  the  third  folio.     Malone. 

6  —  the  state  of  floods,]  i.  e.  the  assembly,  or  general  meet- 
ing of  the  floods  :  for  all  rivers,  running  to  the  sea,  are  there  re- 
presented as  holding  their  sessions.  This  thought  naturally  in- 
troduced the  following  : 

"  Now  call  we  our  high  court  of  parliament." 
But  the  Oxford  editor,  much  a  stranger  to  the  phraseology  of 
that  time  in  general,  and  to  his  author's  in  particular,  out  of  mere 
loss  for  his  meaning,  reads  it  backwards,  "the  floods  of  state." 

Warburton. 
The  objection  to  Warburton's  explanation  is,  that  the  word 
state,  in  the  singular,  does  not  imply  the  sense  he  contends  for  : 
we  say  an  assembly  of  the  states,  not  of  the  state.  I  believe 
we  must  either  adopt  Hanmer's  amendment,  or  suppose  that  state 
means  dignity  ;  and  that,  "  to  mingle  with  the  state  of  floods,"  is 
'  to  partake  of  the  dignity  of  floods.'  I  should  prefer  the  amend- 
ment to  this  interpretation.     M.  Mason. 

I  prefer  the  interpretation  to  the  amendment.  State  most  evi- 
dently means  dignity.     So,  in  The  Tempest : 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  213 

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. — 

[To  the  Lord  Chief  Justice. 
Our  coronation  done,  we  will  accite, 
As  I  before  remember'd,  all  our  state  : 
And  (God  consigning  to  my  good  intents,) 
No  prince,  nor  peer,  shall  have  just  cause  to  say, — 
Heaven  shorten  Harry's  happy  life  one  day. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE    III. 

Glostershire.     The  Garden  of  Shallow's  House. 

Enter  Falstaff,    Shallow,  Silence,  Bardolph, 
the  Page,  and  Davy. 

Shal.  Nay,  you  shall  see  mine  orchard :  where, 
in  an  arbour,  we  will  eat  a  last  year's  pippin  of  my 
own  grafting,  with  a  dish  of  carraways,  and  so 
forth 7 ; — come,  cousin  Silence ; — and  then  to  bed. 

" Highest  queen  of  state, 

"  Great  Juno  comes."     Steevens. 
"  —  with  the  state  of  floods."     With  the  majestick  dignity  of 
the  ocean,  the  chief  of  floods.     So  before,  in  this  scene  : 
"  And,  as  you  are  a  king,  speak  in  your  state  — ." 
State  and  estate,  however,  were  used  in  our  author's  time  for  a 
person  of  high  dignity,  and  may  in  that  sense  be  applied  to  the  sea, 
supposing  it  to  be  personified.     So,  in  King  John  : 

M  How  like  you  this  wild  counsel,  mighty  states  ?  " 

Malone. 
7  —  a  dish  of  carraways,  &c]  A  comfit  or  confection  so  called 
in  our  author's  time.     A  passage  in  De  Vigneul  Marville's  Me- 
langes d'  Histoire  et  de  Litt.  will  explain  this  odd  treat :  "  Dans 


214  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Fal.  'Fore  God,  you  have  here  a  goodly  dwelling, 
and  a  rich. 

le  dernier  siecle  ou  Ton  avoit  le  gout  delicat,  on  ne  croioit  pas 
pouvoir  vivre  sans  Dragees.  II  n'etoit  fils  de  bonne  mere,  qui 
n'eut  son  Dragier  ;  et  il  est  reporte  dans  l'histoire  du  due  de  Guise, 
que  quand  il  fut  tue  a  Blois,  il  avoit  son  Dragier  a  la  main." 

Warburton. 

Mr.  Edwards  has  diverted  himself  with  this  note  of  Dr.  War- 
burton's,  but  without  producing  a  happy  illustration  of  the  passage. 
The  dish  of  caraways  here  mentioned  was  a  dish  of  apples  of  that 
name.     Goldsmith. 

Dr.  Goldsmith  and  others  are  of  opinion,  that  by  carraways  in 
this  place  apples  of  that  name  were  meant.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
comfits  were  intended ;  because  at  the  time  this  play  was  written, 
they  constantly  made  part  of  the  desert,  or  banquet,  as  it  was  then 
called. — In  John  Florio's  Italian  and  English  Dialogues,  which  he 
calls  Second  Frutes,  quarto,  1591,  after  a  dinner  has  been  de- 
scribed, the  attendant  is  desired  to  bring  in  "apples,  pears,  ches- 
nuts,  &c.  a  boxe  of  marmalade,  some  bisket,  and  carrawaies,  with 
other  comfects." 

Again,  in  The  Booke  of  Carvyng,  bl.  1.  no  date  :  "  Serve  after 
meat,  peres,  nuts,  strawberies,  hurtleberies  and  hard  cheese :  also 
blaudrels  or  pipins,  with  caraway  in  cofects."     Malone. 

Whether  Dr.  Warburton,  Mr.  Edwards,  or  Dr.  Goldsmith,  is  in 
the  right,  the  following  passage  in  Decker's  Satiromastix  has  left 
undecided : 

"  By  this  handful  of  carraivays  I  could  never  abide  to  say 
grace." 

" by  these  comfits  we'll  let  all  slide." 

"  By  these  comfits  and  these  carraways;  I  warrant  it  does  him 
good  to  swear." 

" 1  am  glad,  lady  Petula,  by  this  apple,  that  they  please 

you." 

That  apples,  comfits,    and  carraways,   at  least  were  distinct 
things,  may  be  inferred  from  the  following  passage  in  the  old 
black  letter  interlude  of  The  Disobedient  Child,  no  date: 
'■  What  running  had  I  for  apples  and  nuttes, 
"  What  callying  for  biskettes,  cumfettes,  and  carowaies." 

Again,  in  How  to  Chuse  a  Good  Wife  from  a  Bad,  1602  : 
•'  For  apples,  carrawaies,  and  cheese." 

There  is  a  pear,  however,  called  a  caraway,  which  may  be  cor- 
rupted from  caillouel,  Fr.     So,  in  the  French  Roman  de  la  Rose  : 
Ou  la  poire  de  caillouel. 

Chaucer,  in  his  version  of  this  passage,  says  : 

"  With  caleweis,"  &c.     Steevens. 

It  would  be  easy  to  prove,  by  several  instances,  that  caraways 


sc.  hi.  KING  HENRY  IV.  215 

Shal.  Barren,  barren,  barren ;  beggars  all,  beg- 
gars all,  sir  John  : — marry,  good  air 8. — Spread, 
Davy;  spread,  Davy;  well  said,  Davy. 

Fal.  This  Davy  serves  you  for  good  uses ;  he  is 
your  serving-man,  and  your  husbandman  9. 

Shal.  A  good  varlet,  a  good  varlet,  a  very  good 
varlet,  sir  John. — By  the  mass1,  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  heaven  for  the  merry  year  ; 

were  generally  part  of  the  desert  in  Shakspeare's  time.  See  par- 
ticularly Murrel's  Cookery,  &c.  A  late  writer  however  asserts 
that  caraways  is  the  name  of  an  apple  as  well  known  to  the  natu- 
ral inhabitants  of  Bath,  as  nonpareil  is  in  London,  and  as  generally 
associated  with  golden  pippins.  He  observes  also  that  if  Shak- 
speare  had  meant  comfits  he  would  have  said,  "  a  dish  of  last 
year's  pippins  with  carraways." — With  a  dish,  &c.  clearly  means 
something  distinct  from  the  pippins.  Jackson's  Thirty  Letters, 
8vo.  vol.  ii.  p.  42.     Reed. 

The  following  passage  in  Cogan's  Haven  of  Health,  4to.  bl.  1. 
1595,  will  at  once  settle  this  important  question  :  "  This  is  a  con- 
firmation of  our  use  in  England,  for  the  serving  of  apples  and  other 
fruites  last  after  meales.  Howbeit  we  are  wont  to  eate  caravoaies 
or  biskets,  or  some  other  kind  of  comfits  or  seedes  together  with 
apples,  thereby  to  breake  winde  ingendred  by  them  :  and  surely  it 
is  a  very  good  way  for  students."     Steevens. 

8 barren,  barren  ;  beggars  all, — good  air.]  Justice  Shal- 
low alludes  to  a  witticism  frequent  among  rusticks,  who,  when 
talking  of  a  healthy  country,  pleasantly  observe :  "  Yes,  it  is  a 
good  air,  more  run  away  than  die."     Hoet  White. 

9 — and  your  huseandman.]  Old  copy — husband.  Corrected 
by  Mr.  Rowe.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  emendation  is  necessary. 
"  He  was  a  wise  man,  and  a.  good,"  was  the  language  of  our  au- 
thor's time.     See  also  FalstafFs  preceding  speech.     Malone. 

1  By  the  mass,]  So,  in  Springes  for  Woodcocks,  a  collection  of 
epigrams,  1606,  Ep.  221  : 

"  In  elders'  time,  as  ancient  custom  was, 
"  Men  swore  in  weighty  causes  by  the  masse  ; 
"  But  when  the  masse  went  down,  (as  others  note,) 
"  Their  oathes  were,  by  the  crosse  of  this  same  groat,"  &c. 

Steevens. 


216  SECOND  PART  OF  act  r. 

When  flesh  is  cheap  and  females  dear 2, 

And  lusty  lads  roam  here  and  there, 
So  merrily, 
And  ever  among  so  merrily 3. 

Fal.  There's  a  merry  heart! — -Good  master  Si- 
lence, I'll  give  you  a  health  for  that  anon. 

Shal.  Give  master  Bardolph  some  wine,  Davy. 

Davy.  Sweet  sir,  sit;    [Seating  Bardolph  and 
the  Page  at  another  table.~\  I'll  be  with  you  anon : — 

most  sweet  sir,  sit. Master  page,  good  master 

page,  sit :  proface  4  !  What  you  want  in  meat,  we'll 


2 — and  females   dear,  &c]     This  very  natural  character  of 
Justice  Silence  is  not  sufficiently  observed.     He  would  scarcely 
speak  a  word  before,  and  now  there  is  no  possibility  of  stopping 
his  mouth.     He  has  a  catch  for  every  occasion  : 
"  When  flesh  is  cheap  and  females  dear." 
Here  the  double  sense  of  the  word  dear  must  be  remembered. 

Farmer. 

3  And  ever  among  so  merrily."]  Ever  among  is  used  by 
Chaucer  in  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  : 

"  Ever  among  (sothly  to  saine) 
"  I  suffre  noie  and  mochil  paine."     Farmer. 
Of  the  phrase — ever  among,  I  find  an  example  in  the  old  MS. 
romance  of  The  Sowdon  of  Babyloyne  : 

"  Thai  eten  and  dronken  right  inowe, 
"  And  made  myrth  ever  among: 
"  But  of  the  Sowdon  speke  we  nowe 
'*  Howe  of  sorowe  was  his  songe." 
It  is  observable  that  this  phrase,  in  both  instances,  is  applied  to 
the  purpose  of  festivity.     Steevens. 
It  occurs  in  the  Not-browne  Mayd  : 

"  Be  it  right  or  wrong,  these  men  among, 
"  On  women  do  complain." 
Which  Dr.  Farmer  proposed,  erroneously,  I  think,  to  correct— 
"  'tis  men  among,"  supposing  it  a  Latinism.     See  Percy's  Re- 
liques,  vol.  ii.  p.  28,  edit.  1794.     So,  Turbervile's  Tragical  Tales, 
p.  132,  where  it  is  certainly  not  applied  to  the  purpose  of  festivity  : 
"  And  whipt  him  now  and  then  among."     Boswell. 

4  — proface  !]  Italian,  from  prqfaccia  ;  that  is,  much  good  may 
it  do  you.     Hanmer. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  (says  Dr.  Farmer)  is  right,  yet  it  is  no  ar- 
gument for  his  author's  Italian  knowledge. 

Old  Heywood,  the  epigrammatist,  addressed  his  readers  long 
before : 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  217 

have  in  drink.     But  you  must  bear ;  The  heart's 
all5.  [Exit. 

Shal.    Be  merry,    master  Bardolph ; — and  my 
little  soldier  there,  be  merry. 

Sil.  Be  merry,  be  merry,  my  wife  has  all6  ; 

[Singing. 

"  Readers,  reade  this  thus  :  for  preface,  prqface, 
"  Much  good  may  it  do  you,"  &c. 
So,  Taylor,  the  Water-poet,  in  the  title  of  a  poem  prefixed  to 
his  Praise  of  Hempseed  :  "  A  preamble,  preatrot,  preagallop,  prea- 
pace,  orpreface ;  and  prqface,  my  masters,  if  your  stomach  serve." 
Decker,  in  his  comedy  of  If  this  be  not  a  good  Play  the  Devil  is 
in  it,  makes  Shackle-soule,  in  the  character  of  Friar  Rush,  tempt 
his  brethren  "  with  choice  of  dishes  :" 

"  To  which  prqface  ;  with  blythe  lookes  sit  yee." 
I  am  still  much  in  doubt  whether  there  be  such  an  Italian  word 
as  prqfaccia.  Baretti  has  it  not,  and  it  is  more  probable  that  we 
received  it  from  the  French  ;  prqface  being  a  colloquial  abbrevia- 
tion of  the  phrase. — "  Bon  prou  leur  face,"  i.  e.  '  Much  good  may 
it  do  them."     See  Cotgrave,  in  voce  Prou. 

To  the  instances  produced  by  Dr.  Farmer,  I  may  add  one  more  from 
Springes  for  Woodcocks,  a  collection  of  epigrams,  1606,  Ep.  110  : 
"  Prqface,  quoth  Fulvius,  fill  us  t'other  quart." 
And  another  from  Heywood's  Epigrams  : 

"  I  came  to  be  merry,  wherewith  merrily 
"  Prqface.     Have  among  you,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  528  :  "  —  the  cardinall  came  in 
booted  and  spurred,  all  sodainly  amongst  them,  and  bade  them 
prqface."     Steevens. 

So,  in  Nashe's  Apologie  for  Pierce  Penniless,  1593  :  "  A  pre- 
face to  courteous  minds, — as  much  as  to  say  prqface,  much  good 
may  it  do  you  !  would  it  were  better  for  you !  " 

Sir  T.  Hanmer,  (as  an  ingenious  friend  observes  to  me,)  was 
mistaken  in  supposing  prqfaccia  a  regular  Italian  word ;  the  pro- 
per expression  being  buon  pro  vijaccia,  much  good  may  it  do 
you  !  Profaccia  is,  however,  as  I  am  informed,  a  cant  term  used 
by  the  common  people  in  Italy,  though  it  is  not  inserted  in  the 
best  Italian  dictionaries.     Malone. 

5  —  The  heart's  all.]  That  is,  the  intention  with  which  the 
entertainment  is  given.  The  humour  consists  in  making  Davy 
act  as  master  of  the  house.     Johnson. 

6  —  my  ivife's  as  all ;]  Old  copy — has  all.  Dr.  Farmer  very 
acutely  observes,  that  we  should  read — my  wife's  as  all,  i.  e.  as  all 
women  are.     This  affords  a  natural  introduction  to  what  follows, 

Steevens. 


218  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

For  women  are  shrews,  both  short  and  tall: 

'Tis  merry  in  hall,  when  beards  wag  all6, 
And  welcome  merry  shrove-tide7 . 

Be  merry,  be  merry,  &§c. 

Fal.  I  did  not  think,  master  Silence  had  been  a 
man  of  this  mettle. 

Sil.  Who  I  ?  I  have  been  merry  twice  and  once, 
ere  now. 


"  My  wife  has  all "  is  an  equally  good  introduction  to  what  fol- 
lows.    It  is  a  proof  that  she  is  a  shrew.     Boswell. 

6  '  Tis  merry  in  hall,  when  beards  wag  all,~\    Mr.  Warton,  in  his 
History  of  English  Poetry,  observes,  that  this  rhyme  is  found  in  a 
poem  by  Adam  Davie,  called  The  Life  of  Alexander  : 
"  Merry  swithe  it  is  in  halle, 
"  When  the  berdes  waveth  alle."     Steevens. 

This  song  is  mentioned  by  a  contemporary  author :  "  —  which 
done,  grace  said,  and  the  table  taken  up,  the  plate  presently  con- 
veyed into  the  pantrie,  the  hall  summons  this  consort  of  com- 
panions (upon  payne  to  dyne  with  duke  Humphfrie,  or  to  kisse 
the  hare's  foot)  to  appear  at  the  first  call :  where  a  song  is  to 
be  sung,  the  under  song  or  holding  whereof  is,  It  is  merrie  in 
haul  where  beards  wag  all."  The  Serving-man's  Comfort,  1598, 
sig.  C 

Again :  "  It  is  a  common  proverbe  It  is  merry  in  hall,  when 
heardes  wag  all.''  Briefe  Conceipte  of  English  Pollicye,  by  Wil- 
liam Stafford,  1581.     Reprinted  1751,  as  a  work  of  Shakspeare's. 

Reed. 

1  And  welcome  merry  sheove-tide.]  Shrove-tide  was  for- 
merly a  season  of  extraordinary  sport  and  feasting.  In  the  Romish 
church  there  was  anciently  a  feast  immediately  preceding  Lent, 
which  lasted  many  days,  called  Carniscapium.  See  Carpentier 
in  v.  Supp.  Lat.  Gloss.  Du  Cange,  torn.  i.  p.  381.  In  some 
cities  of  France,  an  officer  was  annually  chosen,  called  Le 
Prince  D'Amoreux,  who  presided  over  the  sports  of  the  youth 
for  six  days  before  Ash- Wednesday.  Ibid.  v.  Amoratus,  p.  195  ; 
and  v.  Cardinalis,  p.  818.  Also,  v.  Spinetum,  torn.  iii.  848. 
Some  traces  of  these  festivities  still  remain  in  our  universities. 
In  The  Percy  Houshold-book,  1512,  it  appears,  "  that  the  clergy 
and  officers  of  Lord  Percy's  chapel  performed  a  play  before  his 
lordship  upon  Shrowftewesday  at  night."     P.  345. 

T.  Warton. 

See  also  Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  vol.  xii.  p.  403, 
last  edition.     Reed. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  219 

Re-enter  Davy. 

Davy.  There  is  a  dish  of  leather-coats  for  you8. 
[Setting  them  before  Bardolph. 

Shal.  Davy, — 

Davy.  Your  worship  ? — I'll  be  with  you  straight. 
[To  Bard.I — A  cup  of  wine,  sir  ? 

Sil.  A  cup  of  wine,  that's  brisk  and  fine, 

And  drink  unto  the  leman  mine  ;  [Singing. 

And  a  merry  heart  lives  long-a9. 

Fal.  Well  said,  master  Silence. 

Sil.  And  we  shall  be  merry ; — now  comes  in  the 
sweet  of  the  night  \ 

Fal.  Health  and  long  life  to  you,  master  Silence. 

Szl.  Fill  the  cup,  and  let  it  come  '2  ; 

Til  pledge  you  a  mile  to  the  bottom. 

Shal.  Honest  Bardolph,  welcome :  If  thou  want- 
est  any  thing,  and  wilt  not  call,  beshrew  thy 
heart. — Welcome,  my  little  tiny  thief;  [To  the 
Page^]    and  welcome,  indeed,  too. — I'll  drink  to 

8  —  leather-coats  — ]  The  apple  commonly  denominated 
russetine,  in  Devonshire,  is  called  the  buff-coat.     Henley. 

9  —  a  merry  heart  lives  long-a.']  "  A  merry  heart  is  the  life  of 
the  flesh."     Proverbs,  xiv.  30. 

"  Gladness  prolongs  his  days."     Eccles.  xxx.  22.     Steevens. 

1  —  now  comes  in  the  sweet  of  the  night.]  So  Falstafl^  in  a 
former  scene  of  this  play  :  "  Now  comes  in  the  sweetest  morsel 
of  the  night— — ."     Steevens. 

1  believe  the  latter  words  [those  in  the  speech  of  Silence] 
make  part  of  some  old  ballad.  In  one  of  Autolycus's  songs  we 
find— 

"  Why  then  comes  in  the  siveet  of  the  year." 
The  words,  "  And  we  shall  be  merry,"  have  a  reference  to  a 
song,  of  which  Silence  has  already  sung  a  stanza.  His  speeches 
in  this  scene  are,  for  the  most  part,  fragments  of  ballads. 
Though  his  imagination  did  not  furnish  him  with  any  thing 
original  to  say,  he  could  repeat  the  verses  of  others.     Malone. 

2  Fill  the  cup,  &c]  This  passage  has  hitherto  been  printed 
as  prose,  but  I  am  told  that  it  makes  a  part  of  an  old  song,  and 
have  therefore  restored  it  to  its  metrical  form.     Steevens. 


220  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

master  Bardolph,  and  to  all  the  cavaleroes 3  about 
London. 

Davy.  I  hope  to  see  London  once  ere  I  die  4. 

Bard.  An  I  might  see  you  there,  Davy, — 

Shal.  By  the  mass,  you'll  crack  a  quart  together. 
Ha !  will  you  not,  master  Bardolph  ? 

Bard.  Yes,  sir,  in  a  pottle  pot. 

Shal.  I  thank  thee : — The  knave  will  stick  by 
thee,  I  can  assure  thee  that :  he  will  not  out ;  he  is 
true  bred. 

Bard.  And  I'll  stick  by  him,  sir. 

Shal.  Why,  there  spoke  a  king.  Lack  nothing: 
be  merry.  [Knocking  heard^]  Look  who's  at  door 
there  :  Ho !  who  knocks  ?  [Exit  Davy, 

Fal.  Why,  now  you  have  done  me  right. 

[To  Silence,  who  drinks  a  bumper. 

Sil.  Do  me  right 5,  [Singing, 

And  dub  me  knight 6  ; 


Samingo  7 


Is't  not  so  ? 


3  —  cavaleroes  — ]  This  was  the  term  by  which  an  airy, 
splendid,  irregular  fellow  was  distinguished.  The  soldiers  of 
King  Charles  were  called  Cavaliers  from  the  gaiety  which  they 
affected  in  opposition  to  the  sour  faction  of  the  parliament. 

Johnson. 

4  I  hope  to  see  London  once  ere  I  die.]  Once,  I  believe, 
here  signifies  some  time,  or — one  time  or  another.  So,  in  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Fenton  says  :  "  I  pray  thee,  once  to- 
night give  my  sweet  Nan  this  ring."     Steevens. 

s  Do  me  right."]  To  do  a  man  right,  and  to  do  him  reason, 
were  formerly  the  usual  expressions  in  pledging  healths.  He 
who  drank  a  bumper,  expected  a  bumper  should  be  drank  to  his 
toast. 

So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Silent  Woman,  Captain  Otter  says  in  the 
drinking  scene  :   "  Ha'  you  done  me  right,  gentlemen  ?  " 

Again,  in  The  Bondman,  by  Massinger : 

"  These  glasses  contain  nothing  ; — do  me  right, 
"  As  ere  you  hope  for  liberty."     Steevens. 

6  And  dub  me  knight  ;~\     It  was  the  custom  of  the  good  fellows 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  221 

Fal.  Tisso. 

Sil.  Is't  so  ?  Why,  then  say,  an  old  man  can  do 
somewhat. 

of  Shakspeare's  days  to  drink  a  very  large  draught  of  wine,  and 
sometimes  a  less  palatable  potation,  on  their  knees,  to  the  health 
of  their  mistress.  He  who  performed  this  exploit  was  dubb'd  a 
knight  for  the  evening. 

So,  in  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  1608  :  "  They  call  it  knighting 
in  London,  when  they  drink  upon  their  knees. — Come  follow  me; 
I'll  give  you  all  the  degrees  of  it  in  order."     Malone. 

7  Samingo.~]     He  means  to  say,  San  Domingo.     Hanmer. 
In  one  of  Nashe's  plays,    entitled   Summer's  last  Will   and 
Testament,  1600,  Bacchus  sings  the  following  catch  : 
"  Monsieur  Mingo  for  quaffing  doth  surpass 
"  In  cup,  in  can,  or  glass ; 
"  God  Bacchus,  do  me  right, 
"  And  dub  me  knight, 

"  Domingo." 
Domingo  is  only  the  burthen  of  the  song 
Again,  in  The  letting  of  Humours  Blood  in  the  Head-vaine : 
with  a  new  Morisco,  daunced  by  seaven  Satyres,  upon  the  Bot- 
tome  of  Diogenes  Tubbe,  1 600 : 

Epigram  I. 
••  Monsieur  Domingo  is  a  skilful  man, 

"  For  muche  experience  he  hath  lately  got, 
"  Proving  more  phisicke  in  an  alehouse  can 

•*  Than  may  be  found  in  any  vintner's  pot ; 
"  Beere  he  protestes  is  sodden  and  refin'd, 
"  And  this  he  speakes,  being  single-penny  lind. 

"  For  when  his  purse  is  swolne  but  sixpence  bigge, 

"  Why  then  he  sweares, — Now  by  the  Lorde  I  thinke, 
"  All  beere  in  Europe  is  not  worth  a  figge ; 

"  A  cuppe  of  clarret  is  the  only  drinke. 
"  And  thus  his  praise  from  beer  to  wine  doth  goe, 
"  Even  as  his  purse  in  pence  dothe  ebbe  and  flowe." 

Steevens. 
Samingo,  that  is,  San  Domingo,  as  some  of  the  commentators 
have  rightly  observed.  But  what  is  the  meaning  and  propriety  of 
the  name  here,  has  not  yet  been  shown.  Justice  Silence  is  here 
introduced  as  in  the  midst  of  his  cups  :  and  I  remember  a  black- 
letter  ballad,  in  which  either  a  San  Domingo,  or  a  signior  Do- 
mingo, is  celebrated  for  his  miraculous  feats  in  drinking.  Silence, 
in  the  abundance  of  his  festivity,  touches  upon  some  old  song,  in 
which  this  convivial  saint  or  signior  was  the  burden.  Perhaps 
too  the  pronunciation  is  here  suited  to  the  character.  T.  Warton. 


222  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Re-enter  Davy. 

Davy.  An  it  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.  God  save  you,  sir  John ! 

Fal.  What  wind  blew  you  hither,  Pistol  ? 

Pist.  Not  the  ill  wind  which  blows  no  man  to 
good8. — Sweet  knight,  thou  art  now  one  of  the 
greatest  men  in  the  realm. 

Sil.  By'r  lady,  I  think  'a  be ;  but  goodman  Puff 
of  Barson  9. 

That  is,  to  the  present  situation  of  Silence  ;  who  has  drunk  so 
deeply  at  supper,  that  Falstaff  afterwards  orders  him  to  be  carried 
to  bed.     Malone. 

Of  the  gluttony  and  drunkenness  of  the  Dominicans,  one  of 
their  own  order  says  thus  in  Weever's  Funeral  Monuments, 
p.  cxxxi.  :  "  Sanctus  Dominicus  sit  nobis  semper  amicus,  cui 
canimus — siccatis  ante  lagenis — fratres  qui  non  curant  nisi  ven- 
tres." Hence  Domingo  might  (as  Mr.  Steevens  remarks)  become 
the  burden  of  a  drinking  song.     Tollet. 

In  Marston's  Antonio  and  Mellida,  we  meet  with — 
"  Do  me  right,  and  dub  me  knight,  Ballurdo." 

Farmer. 

8  — no  man  to  good.]  I  once  thought  that  we  should  read — 
which  blows  to  no  man  good.  But  a  more  attentive  review  of 
ancient  Pistol's  language  has  convinced  me  that  it  is  very  dan- 
gerous to  correct  it.  He  who  in  quoting  from  Marlowe's  Tam- 
burlaine,  introduces  hollow-pamper' d  jades,  instead  of  "  Holla, 
ye  pamper'd  jades,"  may  be  allowed  to  change  the  order  of  the 
words  in  this  common  proverbial  saying. 

Since  this  note  was  written,  I  have  found  that  I  suspected 
Pistol  of  inaccuracy  without  reason.  He  quotes  the  proverb  as  it 
was  used  bv  our  old  English  writers,  though  the  words  are  now 
differently  arranged.  So,  in  A  Dialogue  both  pleasaunt  and 
pietifull,  by  William  Bulleyne,   1564,  sig.  F  5  : 

"  No  winde  but  it  doth  turn  some  man  to  good." 

Malone. 

9  —  but  goodman  Puff  of  Barson.]     A  little  before,  William 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  223 

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. 

Fal.  I  pr'ythee  now,  deliver  them  like  a  man  of 
this  world. 

P/st.  A  foutra  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  thereof1. 


Visor  of  Woncot  is  mentioned.  Wbodmancot  and  Barton  (says 
Mr.  Edwards's  MSS.)  which  I  suppose  are  these  two  places,  and 
are  represented  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Justice  Shallow, 
are  both  of  them  in  Berkeley  hundred  in  Glostershire.  This,  I 
imagine,  was  done  to  disguise  the  satire  a  little ;  for  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy,  who,  by  the  coat  of  arras  he  bears,  must  be  the  real 
Justice  Shallow,  lived  at  Charlecot,  near  Stratford,  in  Warwick- 
shire.    Steevens. 

Barston  is  a  village  in  Warwickshire,  lying  between  Coventry 
and  Solyhull.     Percy. 

Mr.  Toilet  has  the  same  observation,  and  adds  that  Woncot 
may  be  put  for  Wolphmancote,  vulgarly  Ovencote,  in  the  same 
county.  Shakspeare  might  be  unwilling  to  disguise  the  satire 
too  much,  and  therefore  mentioned  places  within  the  jurisdiction 
of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy.     Steevens. 

Mr.  Warton,  in  a  note  on  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  says, 
that  Wilnecote,  (or  Wiricot,)  is  a  village  in  Warwickshire,  near 
Stratford.  I  suppose,  therefore,  in  a  former  scene,  we  should 
read  Wincot  instead  of  Woncot.     Malone. 

Sir  John  Suckling,  in  his  letter  from  the  wine-drinkers  to  the 
water-drinkers,  has  this  passage  :  "  Him  captain  Puffe  of  Barton 
shall  follow  with  all  expedition  with  two  or  three  regiments  of 
claret."     Tonson's  edit.  1719,  p.  124.     Boswf.ll. 

1  Let  king  Cophetua,  &c]  Lines  taken  from  an  old  bombast 
play  of  King  Cophetua  ;  of  whom  we  learn  from  Shakspeare, 
there  were  ballads  too.     Warburton. 

This  is  mere  conjecture,  for  no  such  play  is  extant.  From  a 
passage  in  King  Richard  II.  it  may  indeed  be  surmized  that  there 
was  such  a  piece.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  156,  n.  9.     The  ballad  of  The 


224  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Sil.  And  Robin  Hood,  Scarlet,  and  John 2. 

[Sings. 

Pist.  Shall  dunghill  curs  confront  the  Helicons  ? 
And  shall  good  news  be  baffled  ? 
Then,  Pistol,  lay  thy  head  in  Furies'  lap3. 

Shal.  Honest  gentleman,  I  know  not  your  breed- 
ing. 

Pist.  Why  then,  lament  therefore4. 

Shal.  Give  me  pardon,  sir ; — If,  sir,  you  come 
with  news  from  the  court,  I  take  it,  there  is  but 
two  ways ;  either  to  utter  them,  or  to  conceal  them. 
I  am,  sir,  under  the  king,  in  some  authority. 

Pist.  Under  which  king,  Bezonian 5  ?  speak,  or 
die. 

Shal.  Under  king  Harry. 

King   (Cophetua)   and   the  Beggar,   may  be   found  in  Percy's 
Reliques  of  Ancient  Poetry,  vol.  i.     Malone. 

See  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  vol.  iv.  p.  344,  n.  2.     Johnson. 

2  —  Scarlet,  and  John.']  This  scrap  (as  Dr.  Percy  has  observed 
in  the  first  volume  of  his  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry,)  is 
taken  from  a  stanza  in  the  old  ballad  of  Robin  Hood  and  the 
Pindar  of  Wakefield.     Steevens. 

3  —in  Furies'  lap.]     Should  not  we  read? — in  Fury's  lap. 

Ritson. 

4  Why  then,  lament  therefore,]  So,  in  Marlowe's  Massacre 
of  Paris : 

"  The  Guise  is  slain,  and  I  rejoice  therefore."     Malone. 

5  —  Bezonian  ?]  So  again,  Suffolk  says,  in  The  Second  Part 
of  Henry  VI. : 

"  Great  men  oft  die  by  vile  Bezonians." 
It  is  a  term  of  reproach,  frequent  in  the  writers  contemporary  with 
our  poet.     Bisognoso,  a  needy  person  ;  thence  metaphorically,  a 
base  scoundrel.     Theobald. 

Nash,  in  Pierce  Pennilesse  his  Supplication,  &c.  1595,  says : 
"  Proud  lordes  do  tumble  from  the  towers  of  their  high  descents 
and  be  trod  under  feet  of  every  inferior  Besottian." 

In  The  Widow's  Tears,  a  comedy,  by  Chapman,  1612,  the 
primitive  word  is  used  : 

"  — —  spurn'd  out  by  grooms,  like  a  base  Besogno  ?  " 

And  again,  in  Sir  Giles  Goosecap,  a  comedy,  1606  :  "  —  If  he 
come  like  to  your  Besogno,  your  boor,  so  he  be  rich,  they  care 
not."     Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  IV.  225 

Pist.  Harry  the  fourth  ?  or  fifth  ? 

Shal.  Harry  the  fourth. 

Pist.  A  foutra  for  thine  office ! — 

Sir  John,  thy  tender  lambkin  now  is  king ; 
Harry  the  fifth's  the  mah.     I  speak  the  truth : 
When  Pistol  lies,  do  this  ;  and  fig  me,  like 
The  bragging  Spaniard  6. 

Fal,  What !  is  the  old  king  dead  ? 

Pist.  As  nail  in  door 7 :  the  things  I  speak,   are 
just. 

Fal.  Away,  Bardolph;  saddle  my  horse. — Master 

6  _^ FIG  me^  like 

The  bragging  Spaniard.]  To  Jig,  in  Spanish,  higas  dar,  is  to 
insult  by  putting  the  thumb  between  the  fore  and  middle  finger. 
From  this  Spanish  custom  we  yet  say  in  contempt,  "  a  fig  for  you." 

Johnson. 
So,  in  The  Shepherd's  Slumber,  a  song  published  in  England's 
Helicon,  1600: 

"  With  scowling  browes  their  follies  checke, 
"  And  so  give  them  the^/zo- ;  "  &c. 
See  my  note  on  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  I.  Sc.  I.     Steevens. 
Dr.  Johnson  has  properly  explained  this  phrase  ;  but  it  should 
be  added  that  it  is  of  Italian  origin.    When  the  Milanese  revolted 
against  the  Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa,  they  placed  the  em- 
press his  wife  upon  a  mule  with  her  head  towards  the  tail,  and 
ignominiously  expelled  her  their  city.     Frederick  afterwards  be- 
sieged and  took  the  place,  and  compelled  every  one  of  his  prisoners 
on  pain  of  death  to  take  with  his  teeth  afig  from  the  posteriors  of 
a  mule.     The  party  was  at  the  same  time  obliged  to  repeat  to  the 
executioner  the  words  "  eccO  la  fica."     From  this  circumstance 
"  far  la  fica  "  became  a  term  of  derision,  and  was  adopted  by 
other  nations.     The  French  say  likewise  •*  faire  la  figue." 

Douce. 
See  this  phrase  fully  explained  in  Mr.  Douce's  Illustrations  of 
Shakspeare.     Boswellv 

7  Fal.  What !  is  the  old  king  dead  ? 

Pist.  As  nail  in  door:]  This  proverbial  expression  is 
oftener  used  than  understood.  The  door  nail  is  the  nail  on  which 
in  ancient  doors  the  knocker  strikes.  It  is  therefore  used  as  a 
comparison  to  any  one  irrecoverably  dead,  one  who  has  fallen  (as 
Virgil  says)  multa  morte,  i.  e.  with  abundant  death,  such  as  re- 
iteration of  strokes  on  the  head  would  naturally  produce. 

Stelvens. 
VOL.  XVII.  Q 


226  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Robert  Shallow,  choose  what  office  thou  wilt  in  the 
land,  'tis  thine. — Pistol,  I  will  double-charge  thee 
with  dignities. 

Bard.  O  joyful  day ! — I  would  not  take  a  knight- 
hood 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'll  ride 
all  night: — O,  sweet  Pistol: — Away,  Bardolph. 
[Exit  Bard.~\ — Come,  Pistol,  utter  more  to  me ; 
and,  withal,  devise  something,  to  do  thyself  good. — 
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  commandment. 
Happy  are  they  which  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  they8: 
Why,  here  it  is  ;  Welcome  these  pleasant  days 9. 

[Exeunt, 

SCENE  IV. 

London.     A  Street. 

Enter  Beadles,  dragging  in  Hostess  Quickly,  and 
Doll  Tear-sheet1, 

Host.  No,  thou  arrant  knave  ;  I  would  I  might 

8  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led,  &c]  Words  of  an  old 
ballad.     War  bur  ton. 

The  same  has  been  already  introduced  in  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew.     Steevens. 

9  —  Welcome  these  pleasant  days.]  Perhaps,  (as  Sir  Tho- 
mas Hanmer  suggests,)  the  poet  concluded  this  scene  with  a 
rhyming  couplet,  and  therefore  wrote  : 

"  — i —  Welcome  this  pleasant  day."     Steevens. 
1  Enter  Beadles,  &c]     This  stage-direction,   in  the  quarto 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  IV.  227 

die,  that  I  might  have  thee  hanged  :  thou  hast 
drawn  my  shoulder  out  of  joint. 

1  Bead.  The  constables  have  delivered  her  over 
to  me;  and  she  shall  have  whipping-cheer2  enough, 
I  warrant  her :  There  hath  been  a  man  or  two 
lately  killed  about  her. 

Dol.  Nut-hook,  nut-hook 3,  you  lie.     Come  on; 

edit,  of  1600,  stands  thus :  '•  Enter  Sincklo,  and  three  or  four 
Officers."  And  the  name  of  Sincklo  is  prefixed  to  those  speeches, 
which  in  the  later  editions  are  given  to  the  Beadle.  This  is  an 
additional  proof  that  Sincklo  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  players. 
See  the  note  on  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  vol.  v.  p.  367,  n.  7. 

Tyrwhitt. 

2  —  whipping-cheer  — ]  So,  in  Thomas  Newton's  Herball  to 
the  Bible,  8vo.  1587  :  "  —  in  wedlocke  all  pensive  sullenes  and 
loivring-cheer  ought  to  be  utterly  excluded,"  &c.  Again,  in  an 
ancient  bl.  1.  ballad,  intitled,  O,  Yes,  &c. : 

"  And  if  he  chance  to  scape  the  rope, 

"  He  shall  have  ivhipping-cheere."     Steevens. 

3  Nut-hook,  &c]  It  has  been  already  observed,  in  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  that  nut-hook  seems  to  have  been  in  those 
times  a  name  of  reproach  for  a  catchpoll.     Johnson. 

A  nut-hook  was,  I  believe,  a  person  who  stole  linen,  &c.  out  at 
windows,  by  means  of  a  poll  with  a  hook  at  the  end  of  it.  Greene, 
in  his  Arte  of  Coney-catching,  has  given  a  very  particular  account 
of  this  kind  of  fraud  ;  so  that  nut-hook  was  probably  as  common 
a  term  of  reproach  as  rogue  is  at  present.  In  an  old  comedy  in- 
titled  Match  me  in  London,  1631,  I  find  the  following  passage: 
"  She's  the  king's  nut-hook,  that  when  any  filbert  is  ripe,  pulls 
down  the  bravest  boughs  to  his  hand." 

Again,  in  The  Three  Ladies  of  London,  1584  :  "  To  go  a  fish- 
ing with  a  cranke  through  a  window,  or  to  set  lime-twigs  to  catch 
a  pan,  pot,  or  dish." 

Again,  in  Albumazar,  1615 : 

"  — —  picking  of  locks  and  hooking  cloaths  out  of  window." 

Again,  in  The  Jew  of  Malta,  by  Marlowe,  1633  : 
"  I  saw  some  bags  of  money,  and  in  the  night 
•*  I  clamber'd  up  with  my  hooks." 

Hence  perhaps  the  phrase  By  hook  or  by  crook,  which  is  as  old 
as  the  time  of  Tusser  and  Spenser.  The  first  uses  it  in  his 
Husbandry  for  the  month  of  March,  the  second  in  the  third  book 
of  his  Fairy  Queen.  In  the  first  volume  of  Holinshed's  Chro- 
nicle, p.  188,  the  reader  may  find  the  cant  titles  bestowed  by  the 
vagabonds  of  that  age  on  one  another,  among  which  are  hookers, 

tt  2 


228  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

I'll  tell  thee  what,  thou  damned  tripe-visaged  ras- 
cal ;  an  the  child  I  now  go  with,  do  miscarry,  thou 
hadst  better  thou  hadst  struck  thy  mother,  thou 
paper-faced  villain. 

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 ! 

1  Bead.  If  it  do,  you  shall  have  a  dozen  of 
cushions 4  again ;  you  have  but  eleven  now.  Come, 
I  charge  you  both  go  with  me ;  for  the  man  is  dead, 
that  you  and  Pistol  beat  among  you. 

Dol.  I'll  tell  thee  what,  thou  thin  man  in  a 
censer 5 !  I   will  have  you  as  soundly  swinged  for 


or  anglers ;  and  Decker,  in  The  Bell-man  of  London,  5th  edit. 
1640,  describes  this  species  of  robbery  in  particular.    Steevens. 

4  —  a  dozen  of  cushions — ]  That  is,  to  stuff  her  out  that  she 
might  counterfeit  pregnancy.  So,  in  Massinger's  Old  Law  : 
"  I  said  1  was  with  child,  &c.  Thou  said'st  it  was  a  cushion," 
&c. 

Again,  in  Greene's  Disputation  between  a  He  Coneycatcher, 
&c.  1592 :  "  —  to  wear  a  cushion  under  her  own  kirtle,  and  to 
faine  herself  with  child."     Steevens. 

5  —  thou  thin  man  in  a  censer  !]  These  old  censers  of  thin 
metal  had  generally  at  the  bottom  the  figure  of  some  saint  raised 
up  with  a  hammer,  in  a  barbarous  kind  of  imbossed  or  chased 
work.  The  hunger-starved  beadle  is  compared,  in  substance,  to 
one  of  these  thin  raised  figures,  by  the  same  kind  of  humour  that 
Pistol,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  calls  Slender  a  latten 
bilboe.     Warbukton. 

Dr.  Warburton's  explanation  is  erroneous.  The  embossed 
figure  to  which  Doll  refers,  was  in  the  middle  of  the  pierced  con- 
vex lid  of  the  censer;  and  not  at  the  bottom,  where  it  must  have 
been  out  of  sight. 

That  Doll  Tear-sheet,  however,  may  not  be  suspected  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  censers  mentioned  in  Scripture,  and  confined 
to  sacred  use,  it  should  be  remarked,  that  the  consummate  slut- 
tery  of  ancient  houses  rendered  censers  or  fire-pans,  in  which 
coarse  perfumes  were  burnt,  most  necessary  utensils.  In  Much 
Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  I.  Sc.  III.  Borachio  says  he  had  been 
*'  entertained  for  a  perfumer  to  smoke  a  musty  room  at  Leonato's : " 
and  in  a  Letter  from  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  in  the  reign  of  King 
Edward  VI.   (see   Lodge's   Illustrations  of  British  History,  &c. 


sc.  if.  KING  HENRY  IV.  229 

this,  you  blue-bottle  *  rogue 6 !  you  filthy  famished 
correctioner !  if  you  be  not  swinged,  I'll  forswear 
half-kirtles  7. 

*  Folio,  blexa-bottled. 

vol.  i.  p.  141,)  we  are  told  that  Lord  Paget's  house  was  so  small, 
that,  "  after  one  month  it  would  wax  unsavery  for  hym  to  con- 
tynue  in,"  &c.  Again,  from  the  Correspondence  of  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury  with  Lord  Burleigh,  during  the  confinement  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  at  Sheffield-castle,  in  1572,  (see  vol.  ii.  p.  68.)  we 
learn  that  her  Majesty  was  to  be  removed  for  five  or  six  days  "  to 
klense  her  chambar,  being  kept  very  unklenly" 

Again,  in  a  Memoir  written  by  Anne,  Countess  of  Dorset,  Pem- 
broke, and  Montgomery,  1603  :  "  —  we  all  went  to  Tibbalstosee 
the  Kinge,  who  used  my  mother  and  my  aunt  very  gratiouslie ; 
but  we  all  saw  a  great  chaunge  betweene  the  fashion  of  the  Court 
as  it  was  now,  and  of  yl  in  ye  Queene's.,  for  tve  mere  all  loxozy  by 
sittinge  in  ST.  Thomas  Erskin's  chamber."  See  Mr.  Seward's 
Anecdotes,  &c.  vol.  iv.  p.  305.     Steevens. 

6  —  blue-bottle-rogue  !]  A  name,  I  suppose,  given  to  the 
beadle,  from  the  colour  of  his  livery.     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  is  right  with  respect  to  the  livery,  but  the  allusion 
seems  to  be  to  the  greatjlesh-jly,  commonly  called  a  blue-bottle. 

Farmer. 

The  same  allusion  is  in  Northward  Hoe,  1607  : 

"  Now  blue-bottle  J  what  flutter  you  for,  sea-pie  ?  " 

The  serving  men  were  anciently  habited  in  blue,  and  this  is 
spoken  on  the  entry  of  one  of  them.  It  was  natural  for  Doll  to 
have  an  aversion  to  the  colour,  as  a  blue  gotvn  was  the  dress  in 
which  a  strumpet  did  penance.  So,  in  The  Northern  Lass,  1633: 
" —  let  all  the  good  you  intended  me  be  a  lockram  coif,  a  blew 
govon,  a  wheel,  and  a  clean  whip."  Mr.  Malone  confirms  Dr. 
Johnson's  remark  on  the  dress  of  the  beadle,  by  the  following 
quotation  from  Michaelmas  Term,  by  Middleton,  1607  :  "  And 
to  be  free  from  the  interruption  of  blue  beadles  and  other  bawdy 
officers,  he  most  politickly  lodges  her  in  a  constable's  house." 

Steevens. 

'  — half-kirtles.]  Probably  the  dress  of  the  prostitutes  of 
that  time.     Johnson. 

A  half-kirtle  was  perhaps  the  same  kind  of  thing  as  we  call  at 
present  a  short-gown,  or  a  bed-gown.  There  is  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression now  in  use  which  may  serve  to  confirm  it.  When  a 
person  is  loosely  dressed,  the  vulgar  say — Such  a  one  looks  like  a 

w in   a  bed-gown.      See  Westward  Hoe,    by   Decker  and 

Webster,  1607:  ". —  forty  shillings  I  lent  her  to  redeem  two 
half-silk  kirtles."     Stekvens. 

The  dress  of  the  courtezans  of  the  time  confirms  Mr.  Steevens' s 


230  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

1  Bead.  Come,  come,  you  she  knight- errant, 
come. 

Host.  O,  that  right  should  thus  overcome  might! 
Well ;  of  sufferance  comes  ease. 

Dol.  Come,  you  rogue,  come  ;  bring  me  to  a 
justice. 

Host.  Ay ;  come,  you  starved  blood-hound. 

Dol.  Goodman  death !  goodman  bones ! 

Host.  Thou  atomy  thou 8 ! 

Dol.  Come,  you  thin  thing  ;  come,  you  rascal9! 

1  Bead.  Very  well.  [Exeunt* 

observation.  So,  in  Michaelmas  Term,  by  Middleton,  1607 : 
"  Dost  dream  of  virginity  now  ?  remember  a  loose-bodied  gown, 
wench,  and  let  it  go."  Again,  in  Skialetheia,  or  a  Shadow  of 
Truth  in  certain  Epigrammes  and  Satires,  1598  : 

"  To  women's  loose  go-xns  suiting  her  loose  rhimes." 
Yet,  from  the  description  of  a  kirtle  already  given,  (see  p.  98, 
n.  3,)   a  half-kirtle  should  seem  to  be  a  short  cloak,   rather  than 
a  short  gown.     Perhaps  such  a  cloak,  without  sleeves,  was  here 
meant.     Malone. 

8  Thou  atomy  thou  !]     Atomy  for  anatomy.     Atomy  or  otamy 
is  sometimes  used  by  the  ancient  writers  where  no  blunder  or 
depravation  is  designed.     So,  in  Look  About  You,  1600: 
"  For  thee,  for  thee,  thou  otamie  of  honour, 
"  Thou  worm  of  majesty — ."     Steevens. 
The  preceding  expression   seems  to  confirm  Mr.  Steevens's 
explanation.     But  whether  the  otamies  of  Surgeons'  Hall  were 
known  at  this  time,  may  perhaps  be  questioned.     Atomy  is  per- 
haps here  the  motes  or  atoms  in  the  sun  beams,  as  the  poet  him- 
self calls  them,  speaking  of  Queen  Mab's  chariot : 

"  Drawn  with  a  team  of  little  atomies"     Romeo  and  Juliet. 
And  otamie  of  honour,  may  very  easily  be  so  understood. 

Whalley. 
Shakspeare  himself  furnishes  us  with  a  proof  that  the  word 
in  his  time,  bore  the  sense  which  we  now  frequently  affix  to  it, 
having  employed  it  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  precisely  with  the 
signification  in  which  the  Hostess  here  uses  atomy  : 

<l  They  brought  one  Pinch,  a  hungry  lean-fac'd  villain, 
"  A  mere  anatomy,  a  mountebank, 
"  A  needy,  hollow-ey'd,  sharp-looking  wretch, 
"  A  living  dead  man." 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  And  rouse  from  sleep  that  fell  anatomy."     Malone. 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  IV.  231 

SCENE  V. 
A  public  Place  near  Westminster  Abbey. 

Enter  Two  Grooms,  strewing  Rushes. 

1  Groom.  More  rushes,  more  rushes  \ 

2  Groom.  The  trumpets  have  sounded  twice. 

1  Groom.  It  will  be  two  o'clock  ere  they  come 
from  the  coronation :  Despatch,  despatch. 

[Exeunt  Grooms. 

Enter  Falstaff,  Shallow,  Pistol,  Bardolph, 
and  the  Page. 

Fal.  Stand  here  by  me,  master  Robert  Shallow ; 
I  will  make  the  king  do  you  grace :  I  will  leer  upon 

9  — you  rascal!]  In  the  language  of  the  forest,  lean  deer 
were  called  rascal  deer.     See  p.|73,  n.  4.    Steevens. 

On  this  note  the  following  observation  has  been  made  :  "  Doll 
could  not  speak  but  in  the  language  of  the  forest.  Rascal,  does 
not  signify  rascal,  but  lean  deer.  See  what  it  is  to  be  on  the 
watch  to  show  a  little  musty  reading  and  unknoivn  knowledge." 

Who,  except  this  superficial  writer,  is  so  little  acquainted  with 
our  author's  manner,  as  not  to  know  that  he  often  introduces 
allusions  to  customs  and  practices  with  which  he  was  himself 
conversant,  without  being  solicitous  whether  it  was  probable 
that  the  speaker  should  have  known  any  thing  of  the  matter. 
Thus,  to  give  one  instance  out  of  a  thousand,  he  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  kings  the  language  of  his  own  stage,  and  makes  them 
talk  of  cues  and  properties,  who  never  had  been  in  a  tiring-room, 
and  probably  had  never  heard  of  either  the  one  or  the  other.  Of 
the  language  of  the  forest  he  was  extremely  fond  ;  and  the  parti- 
cular term  rascal  he  has  introduced  in  at  least  a  dozen  places. 

Malone. 

1  More  rushes,  &c]  It  has  been  already  observed,  that,  at 
ceremonial  entertainments,  it  was  the  custom  to  strew  the  floor 
with  rushes.     Caius  de  Ephemera.     Johnson. 

Chambers,  and  indeed  all  apartments  usually  inhabited,  were 
formerly  strewed  in  this  manner.  As  our  ancestors  rarely  washed 
their  floors,  disguises  of  uncleanliness  became  necessary  things. 
See  note  on  Cymbeline,  Act  II.  Sc.  II. — In  the  present  instance, 
however,  the  rushes  are  supposed  to  be  scattered  on  the  pave- 
ment of  a  street,  or  on  a  platform.     Steevens. 


232  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

him,  as  'a  comes  by  ;  and  do  but  mark  the  counte- 
nance that  he  will  give  me. 

Pist.  God  bless  thy  lungs,  good  knight. 

Fal.  Come  here,  Pistol ;  stand  behind  me. — O, 
if  I  had  had  time  to  have  made  new  liveries,  I 
would  have  bestowed  the  thousand  pound  I  bor- 
rowed of  you.  [To  Shallow^  But  'tis  no  matter ; 
this  poor  show  doth  better :  this  doth  infer  the  zeal 
I  had  to  see  him. 

Shal.  It  doth  so. 

Fall.  It  shows  my  earnestness  of  affection, 

Shal.  It  doth  so. 

Fal.  My  devotion. 

Shal.  It  doth,  it  doth,  it  doth2. 

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  most  certain. 

Fal.  But  to  stand  stained  with  travel3,  and  sweat- 
ing with  desire  to  see  him  :  thinking  of  nothing 
else  ;  putting  all  affairs  else  in  oblivion ;  as  if  there 
were  nothing  else  to  be  done,  but  to  see  him. 

Pist.  Tis  semper  idem,  for  absque  hoc  nihil  est : 
Tis  all  in  every  part  *  4. 

*  Quartos,  'Tis  in  every  part. 

2  It  doth,  it  doth,  it  doth.]  The  two  little  answers  which  are 
given  to  Pistol  in  the  old  copy,  are  transferred  by  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer  to  Shallow.    The  repetition  of  it  doth  suits  Shallow  best. 

Johnson. 
In  the  quarto,  Shallow's  first  speech  in  this  scene,  as  well  as 
these  two,  is  erroneously  given  to  Pistol.  The  editors  of  the 
folio  corrected  the  former,  but  overlooked  these.  They  likewise, 
in  my  apprehension,  overlooked  an  error  in  the  end  of  Falstaff's 
speech,  below,  though  they  corrected  one  in  the  beginning  of  it. 
See  note  4>.     Malone. 

3  —  to  stand  stained  with  travel,]  So,  in  King  Henry  IV. 
Part  I. : 

H  Stain'd  with  the  variation  of  each  soil, 

"  Betwixt  that  Holmedon  and  this  seat  of  ours."     Malone. 

4  —  'Tis  all  in  every  part.]     The  sentence  alluded  to  is  : 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  IV.  233 

Shal.  'Tis  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  ; 
Haul'd  thither 

By  most  mechanical  and  dirty  hand : — 
Rouze  up  revenge  from  ebon  den  with  fell  Alecto's 

snake, 
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. 


"  'Tis  all  in  all,  and  all  in  every  part." 

And  so  doubtless  it  should  be  read.  'Tis  a  common  way  of 
expressing  one's  approbation  of  a  right  measure  to  say,  "  'tis  all 
in  all."  To  which  this  fantastick  character  adds,  with  some 
humour,  "  and  all  in  every  part:"  which,  both  together,  make  up 
the  philosophick  sentence,  and  complete  the  absurdity  of  Pistol's 
phraseology.     Warburton. 

I  strongly  suspect  that  these  words  belong  to  FalstafPs  speech. 
They  have  nothing  of  Pistol's  manner.  In  the  original  copy  in 
quarto,  the  speeches  in  this  scene  are  all  in  confusion.  The 
two  speeches  preceding  this,  which  are  jumbled  together,  are 
given  to  Shallow,  and  stand  thus :  "  Sh.  It  is  best  certain :  but 
to  stand  stained  with  travel,"  &c. 

The  allusion,  if  any  allusion  there  be,  is  to  the  description  of 
the  soul.     So,  in  Nosce  Teipsum,  by  Sir  John  Davies,  4to.  1599  : 
"  Some  say,  she's  all  in  all,  and  all  in  every  part." 

Again,  in  Drayton's  Mortimeriados,  4to.  1596 : 
"  And  as  his  soul  possesseth  head  and  heart, 
"  She's  all  in  all,  and  all  in  every  part."     Malone. 

In  The  Phoenix  Nest,  &c.  4to.  1593,  we  find,  p.  20:  "  Tota  in 
toto,  et  tota  in  qualibet  parte."     Ritson. 

In  my  opinion,  this  speech  accords  but  little  with  the  phrase- 
ology of  Falstaff ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  agrees  well  with  that 
of  Pistol,  who  (as  Moth  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost  says  of  IIolo- 
fernes)  appears  to  "  have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages, 
and  stolen  the  scraps."  See  his  concluding  words  in  the  scene 
before  us.     Stkevens. 


234  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Enter  King  and  his  Train,  the  Chief  Justice  among 

them. 

Fal.  God  save  thy  grace,  king  Hal 5 !  my  royal 
Hal! 

Pist.  The  heavens  thee  guard  and  keep,  most 
royal  imp  of  fame 6 ! 

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 

'tis  you  speak  ? 
Fal.  My  king  !  my  Jove "' !  I  speak  to  thee  my 

heart ! 


5  God  save  thy  grace,  king  Hal !]  A  similar  scene  occurs  in 
the  anonymous  Henry  V.  Falstaff  and  his  companions  address 
the  King  in  the  same  manner,  and  are  dismissed  as  in  this  play 
of  Shakspeare.     Steevens. 

6  —  most  royal  imp  of  fame  !]  The  word  imp  is  perpetually 
used  by  Ulpian  Fulwell,  and  other  ancient  writers,  for  progeny  : 

"  And  were  it  not  thy  royal  impe 
"  Did  mitigate  our  pain — ." 
Here  Fulwell  addresses  Anne  Boleyn,  and  speaks  of  the  young 
Elizabeth.     Churchyard  also  calls  Edward  VI.  "  impe  of  grace." 
Again,  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar,  1594  : 

"  — —  Amurath,  mighty  emperor  of  the  east, 
"  That  shall  receive  the  imp  of  royal  race." 
Again,  in  Fuimus  Troes,  1633  : 

" from  hence  I  bring 

"  A  pair  of  martial  imps ." 

Imp-yn  is  a  Welsh  word,  and  primitively  signifies  a  sprout,  a 
sucker.     So,  in  the  tragedy  of  Darius,  1603  : 

"  Like  th'  ancient  trunk  of  some  disbranched  tree 
"  Which  iEol's  rage  hath  to  confusion  brought, 
"  Disarm'd  of  all  those  imps  that  sprung  from  me, 
"  Unprofitable  stock,  I  serve  for  nought." 
Again,  in  Thomas  Newton's  Herball  to  the  Bible,  8vo.  1587, 
there  is  a  chapter  on  "  shrubs,  shootes,  slippes,  graffes,  sets, 
sprigges,    boughs,    branches,    twigs,    yoong  imps,    sprayes,  and 
buds."     Steevens. 

7  My  king !  my  Jove !]     It  appears,  from  many  passages  both 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  IV.  235 

King.  1  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  8 ; 
But,  being  awake,  I  do  despise  my  dream. 
Make  less  thy  body,  hence  9,  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 ' ; 
Presume  not  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was : 
For  heaven  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 

in  our  author's  plays  and  poems,  that  he  had  diligently  read  the 
earlier  pieces  of  Daniel.  When  he  wrote  the  speech  before  us, 
he  perhaps  remembered  these  lines  in  Daniel's  Complaint  of 
Rosamond,  1594 : 

"  Doost  thou  not  see,  how  that  thy  Icing,  thy  Jove, 

"  Lightens  forth  glory  on  thy  dark  estate?  "     Malone. 

8  —  profane  ;]  In  our  author  it  often  signifies  love  of  talk, 
without  the  particular  idea  now  given  it.  So,  in  Othello  :  "  Is  he 
not  a  profane  and  very  liberal  counsellor  ?"     Johnson. 

9  —  hence,]     i.  e.  henceforward,  from  this  time,  in  the  future. 

Steevens. 
1  '  know,  the  grave  doth  gape 

For  thee  thrice  wider  than  for  other  men  : — 
Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest ;]  Nature  is  highly 
touched  in  this  passage.  The  King  having  shaken  off  his  vanities, 
schools  his  old  companion  for  his  follies  with  great  severity :  he 
assumes  the  air  of  a  preacher,  bids  him  fall  to  his  prayers,  seek 
grace,  and  leave  gormandizing.  But  that  word  unluckily  pre- 
senting him  with  a  pleasant  idea,  he  cannot  forbear  pursuing  it. 
"  Know,  the  grave  doth  gape  for  thee  thrice  wider,"  &c.  and  is 
just  falling  back  into  Hal,  by  an  humorous  allusion  to  Falstaff's 
bulk  ;  but  he  perceives  it  immediately,  and  fearing  Sir  John 
should  take  the  advantage  of  it,  checks  both  himself  and  the 
knight,  with  — 

*  Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest ;  " 
And  so  resumes  the  thread  of  his  discourse,  and  goes  moralizing 
on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  Thus  the  poet  copies  nature  with 
great  skill,  and  shows  us  how  apt  men  are  to  fall  back  into  their 
old  customs,  when  the  change  is  not  made  by  degrees,  and 
brought  into  a  habit,  but  determined  of  at  once,  on  the  motives  of 
honour,  interest,  or  reason.     Warburton. 


236  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

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 2. 

2  Not  to  come  near  our  person  by  ten  mile.]  Mr.  Rowe  ob- 
serves, that  many  readers  lament  to  see  Falstaff  so  hardly  used 
by  his  old  friend.  But  if  it  be  considered,  that  the  fat  knight  has 
never  uttered  one  sentiment  of  generosity,  and  with  all  his  power 
of  exciting  mirth,  has  nothing  in  him  that  can  be  esteemed,  no 
great  pain  will  be  suffered  from  the  reflection  that  he  is  compelled 
to  live  honestly,  and  maintained  by  the  King,  with  a  promise  of 
advancement  when  he  shall  deserve  it. 

I  think  the  poet  more  blameable  for  Poins,  who  is  always  repre- 
sented as  joining  some  virtues  with  his  vices,  and  is  therefore 
treated  by  the  Prince  with  apparent  distinction,  yet  he  does  no- 
thing in  the  time  of  action  ;  and  though  after  the  bustle  is  over  he 
is  again  a  favourite,  at  last  vanishes  without  notice.  Shakspeare 
certainly  lost  him  by  heedlessness,  in  the  multiplicity  of  his  cha- 
racters, the  variety  of  his  action,  and  his  eagerness  to  end  the 
play.     Johnson. 

The  dismission  of  Falstaff  was  founded  on  an  historical  fact. 
Stowe  says,  that  "  King  Henry,  after  his  coronation,  called  unto 
him  all  those  young  lords  and  gentlemen  that  were  the  followers 
of  his  young  acts,  to  every  one  of  whom  he  gave  rich  gifts ;  and 
then  commanded,  that  as  many  as  would  change  their  manners,  as 
he  intended  to  do,  should  abide  with  him  in  his  court ;  and  to  all 
that  would  persevere  in  their  former  like  conversation,  he  gave  ex- 
press commandment,  upon  pain  of  their  heads,  never  after  that 
day  to  come  in  his  presence."     Steevens. 

This  circumstance  was  originally  mentioned  by  Hall,  and  is 
thus  recorded  by  Holinshed,  who  was  certainly  Shakspeare's  his- 
torian :  "  Immediately  after  that  he  was  invested  kyng,  and  had 
receyved  the  crowne,  he  determined  with  himselfe  to  putte  upon 
him  the  shape  of  a  new  man,  turning  insolence  and  wildness  into 
gravitie  and  sobernesse :  and  whereas  he  had  passed  his  youth  in 
wanton  pastime  and  riotous  misorder,  with  a  sorte  of  misgoverned 
mates,  and  unthriftie  playfeers,  he  now  banished  them  from  his 
presence,  (not  unrewarded  nor  yet  unpreferred,)  inhibiting  them 
upon  a  great  pat/ne,  not  once  to  approche,  lodge  or  sojourue  within 
ten  miles  of  his  courte  or  mansion :  and  in  their  places  he  elected 


sc.  V.  KING  HENRY  IV.  237 

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  strength  and  quali- 
ties,— 
Give  you  advancement. — Be  it  your  charge,  my  lord, 
To  see  perform'd  the  tenor  of  our  word. — 
Set  on.  [Exeunt  King  and  his  Train. 

Fal.  Master  Shallow,  I  owe  you  a  thousand 
pound. 

Shal.  Ay,  marry,  sir  John ;  which  I  beseech  you 
to  let  me  have  home  with  me. 

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  advancement ;  I  will  be  the  man  yet, 
that  shall  make  you  great. 

Shal.  I  cannot  perceive  how;  unless  you  give 
me  your  doublet,  and  stuff  me  out  with  straw.  I 
beseech  you,  good  sir  John,  let  me  have  five  hun- 
dred of  my  thousand. 

Fal.  Sir,  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word :  this  that 
you  heard,  was  but  a  colour. 

*  Folio,  redeem. 

and  chose  men  of  gravitie,  witte,  and  hygh  policie,  by  whose  wise 
counsell  he  might  at  all  times  rule  to  his  honoure  ; — whereas  if  he 
should  have  reteined  the  other  lustie  companions  aboute  him,  he 
doubted  least  they  might  have  allured  him  into  such  lewtle  and 
lighte  partes,  as  with  them  before  tyme  he  had  youthfully  used." — 
Our  author  might  have  found  the  same  circumstance  in  the  anony- 
mous play  of  King  Henry  V. : 

" your  former  life  grieves  me, 

"  And  makes  me  to  abandon  and  abolish  your  company  for 
ever : 

"  And  therefore  not  upon  pain  of  death  to  approche  my  pre- 
sence, 

"  By  ten  miles'  space ;  then,  if  I  heare  well  of  you, 

"  It  may  be  I  will  doe  somewhat  for  you ; 

"  Otherwise  looke  for  no  more  favour  at  my  hands, 

"  Than  anv  other  man's."     Malone. 


238  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

8 hal.  A  colour,  I  fear,  that  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  Prince  John,  the  Chief  Justice,  Officers, 

8sc. 

Ch.  Just.    Go,  carry  sir  John  Falstaff  to  the 
Fleet3; 
Take  all  his  company  along  with  him. 

Fal.  My  lord,  my  lord, 

Ch.  Just.  I  cannot  now  speak :  I  will  hear  you 
soon. 
Take  them  away. 

Fist.  Sifortuna  me  tormenta,  spero  me  contenta. 
[Exeunt  Fal.  Shal.  Pist.  Bard.  Page, 
and  Officers. 
P.  John.  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. 
P.  John.  The  king  hath  call'd  his  parliament,  my 

lord. 
Ch.  Just.  He  hath. 

P.  John.    I  will  lay   odds, — that,  ere  this  year 
expire, 
We  bear  our  civil  swords,  and  native  fire, 


3  —  to  the  Fleet ;]  I  do  not  see  why  Falstaff  is  carried  to  the 
Fleet.  We  have  never  lost  sight  of  him  since  his  dismission  from 
the  King ;  he  has  committed  no  new  fault,  and  therefore  incurred 
no  punishment ;  but  the  different  agitations  of  fear,  anger,  and 
surprize  in  him  and  his  company,  made  a  good  scene  to  the  eye ; 
and  our  author,  who  wanted  them  no  longer  on  the  stage,  was  glad 
to  find  this  method  of  sweeping  them  away.     Johnson. 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  IV.  239 

As  far  as  France :  I  heard  a  bird  so  sing4, 
Whose  musick,  to  my  thinking,  pleasd  the  king. 
Come,  will  you  hence  ?  [Exeunt 5. 

■»  —  I  heard  a  bird  so  sing,]  This  phrase,  which  I  suppose  to 
be  proverbial,  occurs  in  the  ancient  ballad  of  The  Rising  in  the 
North: 

"  /  heare  a  bird  sing  in  mine  eare, 

"  That  I  must  either  fight  or  flee."     Steevens. 

5  Exeunt.']  I  fancy  every  reader,  when  he  ends  this  play,  cries 
out  with  Desdemona,  "  O  most  lame  and  impotent  conclusion !  " 
As  this  play  was  not,  to  our  knowledge,  divided  into  Acts  by  the 
author,  I  could  be  content  to  conclude  it  with  the  death  of  Henry 
the  Fourth : 

"  In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die." 

These  scenes,  which  now  make  the  fifth  Act  of  Henry  the 
Fourth,  might  then  be  the  first  of  Henry  the  Fifth  ;  but  the  truth 
is,  that  they  do  not  unite  very  commodiously  to  either  play. 
When  these  plays  were  represented,  I  believe  they  ended  as  they 
are  now  ended  in  the  books  ;  but  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  de- 
signed that  the  whole  series  of  action,  from  the  beginning  of 
Richard  the  Second,  to  the  end  of  Henry  the  Fifth,  should  be  con- 
sidered by  the  reader  as  one  work,  upon  one  plan,  only  broken 
into  parts  by  the  necessity  of  exhibition. 

None  of  Shakspeare's  plays  are  more  read  than  the  First  and 
Second  Parts  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  Perhaps  no  author  has  ever, 
in  two  plays,  afforded  so  much  delight.  The  great  events  are  in- 
teresting, for  the  fate  of  kingdoms  depends  upon  them ;  the 
slighter  occurrences  are  diverting,  and,  except  one  or  two,  suffi- 
ciently probable ;  the  incidents  are  multiplied  with  wonderful  fer- 
tility of  invention,  and  the  characters  diversified  with  the  utmost 
nicety  of  discernment,  and  the  profoundest  skill  in  the  nature  of 
man. 

The  Prince,  who  is  the  hero  both  of  the  comick  and  tragick 
part,  is  a  young  man  of  great  abilities  and  violent  passions,  whose 
sentiments  are  right,  though  his  actions  are  wrong ;  whose  virtues 
are  obscured  by  negligence,  and  whose  understanding  is  dissipated 
by  levity.  In  his  idle  hours  he  is  rather  loose  than  wicked  ;  and 
when  the  occasion  forces  out  his  latent  qualities,  he  is  great  with- 
out effort,  and  brave  without  tumult.  The  trifler  is  roused  into  a 
hero,  and  the  hero  again  reposes  in  the  trifler.  The  character  is 
great,  original,  and  just. 

Percy  is  a  rugged  soldier,  cholerick  and  quarrelsome,  and  has 
only  the  soldier's  virtues,  generosity  and  courage. 

But  Falstaff  unimitated,  unimitable  Falstaff,  how  shall  I  describe 
thee  ?  thou  compound  of  sense  and  vice ;  of  sense  which  may  be 
admired,  but  not  esteemed  ;  of  vice  which  may  be  despised,  but 
hardly  detested.     Falstaff  is  a  character  loaded  with  faults,  and 


240         SECOND  PART  OF  K.  HENRY  IV.      act  v. 

with  those  faults  which  naturally  produce  contempt.  He  is  a 
thief  and  a  glutton,  a  coward  and  a  boaster,  always  ready  to  cheat 
the  weak,  and  prey  upon  the  poor ;  to  terrify  the  timorous,  and  in- 
sult the  defenceless.  At  once  obsequious  and  malignant,  he  sati- 
rizes in  their  absence  those  he  lives  by  flattering.  He  is  familiar 
with  the  prince  only  as  an  agent  of  vice,  but  of  this  familiarity  he 
is  so  proud,  as  not  only  to  be  supercilious  and  haughty  with  com- 
mon men,  but  to  think  his  interest  of  importance  to  the  Duke  of 
Lancaster.  Yet  the  man  thus  corrupt,  thus  despicable,  makes 
himself  necessary  to  the  prince  that  despises  him,  by  the  most 
pleasing  of  all  qualities,  perpetual  gaiety  ;  by  an  unfailing  power 
of  exciting  laughter,  which  is  the  more  freely  indulged,  as  his  wit 
is  not  of  the  splendid  or  ambitious  kind,  but  consists  in  easy  scapes 
and  sallies  of  levity,  which  make  sport,  but  raise  no  envy.  It 
must  be  observed,  that  he  is  stained  with  no  enormous  or  sangui- 
nary crimes,  so  that  his  licentiousness  is  not  so  offensive  but  that  it 
may  be  borne  for  his  mirth. 

The  moral  to  be  drawn  from  this  representation  is,  that  no  man 
is  more  dangerous  than  he  that,  with  a  will  to  corrupt,  hath  the 
power  to  please  ;  and  that  neither  wit  nor  honesty  ought  to  think 
themselves  safe  with  such  a  companion,  when  they  see  Henry  se- 
duced by  Falstaff.     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  objects,  with  good  reason,  I  think,  to  the  "lame 
and  impotent  conclusion"  of  this  play.  Our  author  seems  to 
have  been  as  careless  in  the  conclusion  of  the  following  plays  as 
in  that  before  us. 

In  The  Tempest  the  concluding  words  are  : 
' ' please  you  draw  near." 

In  Much  Ado  About  Nothing : 

"  •         Strike  up,  pipers." 

In  Love's  Labour's  Lost : 

' ' You  that  way  ;  we  this  way." 

In  The  Winter's  Tale : 

"  — —  Hastily  lead  away."^ 

In  Timon  of  Athens  : 

"  Let  our  drums  strike." 

In  Hamlet : 

"  Go,  bid  the  soldiers  shoot."     Malone. 

That  there  is  no  apparent  full  and  energetic  close  to  any  of  the 
plays  enumerated  by  Mr.  Malone,  is  undeniable  ;  but  perhaps  the 
epilogue  spoken  in  the  character  ofProspero,  the  dance  which  ter- 
minates Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  a  final  and  picturesque  sepa- 
ration and  procession  of  the  personages  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost 
and  The  Winter's  Tale,  the  symphony  of  warlike  instruments  at  the 
end  of  Timon,  and  the  peal  of  ordnance  shot  off  while  the  survi- 
vors in  Hamlet  are  quitting  the  stage,  might  have  proved  as  satis- 
factory to  our  ancestors  as  the  moral  applications  and  polished 
couplets  with  which  so  many  of  our  modern  dramatick  pieces  con- 
clude.    Steevens. 


EPILOGUE6. 

SPOKEN   BY   A   DANCER. 

FIRST,  my  fear;  then,  my  court'sy:  last  my 
speech.  My  fear  is,  your  displeasure ;  my  court'sy, 
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  purpose,  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  it,  and  to  promise  you  a 
better.  I  did  mean,  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,  1  would  be,  and  here  I  com- 
mit my  body  to  your  mercies  :  bate  me  some,  and 
I  will  pay  you  some,  and,  as  most  debtors  do,  pro- 
mise 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  debt. 
But  a  good  conscience  will  make  any  possible  satis- 
faction, and  so  will  I.  All  the  gentlewomen  here 
have  forgiven  me  7 ;  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 

6  This  epilogue  was  merely  occasional,  and  alludes  to  some 
theatrical  transaction.     Johnson. 

7  All  the  gentlewomen,  &c]  The  trick  of  influencing  one 
part  of  the  audience  by  the  favour  of  the  other,  has  been  played 
already  in  the  epilogue  to  As  You  Like  It.     Johnson. 

VOL.  XVII.  R 


242  EPILOGUE. 

too  much  cloyed  with  fat  meat,  our  humble  author 
will  continue  the  story,  with  Sir  John  in  it,  and 
make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  of  France  9 : 
where,  for  any  thing  I  know,  Falstaff  shall  die  of  a 
sweat,  unless  already  he  be  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  K 

9  — and  make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  of  France  :] 
I  think  this  is  a  proof  that  the  French  scenes  in  King  Henry  V. 
however  unworthy  of  our  author,  were  really  written  by  him.  It 
is  evident  from  this  passage  that  he  had  at  this  time  formed  the 
plan  of  that  play ;  and  how  was  "  fair  Katharine  to  make  the 
audience  merry,"  but  by  speaking  broken  English  ?  The  conver- 
sation and  courtship  of  a  great  princess,  in  the  usual  style  of  the 
drama,  was  not  likely  to  afford  any  merriment.     Tyrwhitt. 

1  —  to  pray  for  the  queen.]  1  wonder  no  one  has  remarked,  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  epilogue,  that  it  was  the  custom  of  the  old 
players,  at  the  end  of  the  performance,  to  pray  for  their  patrons. 
Thus,  at  the  end  of  New  Custom  : 

"  Preserve  our  noble  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  her  councell  all." 
And  in  Locrine  : 

"  So  let  us  pray  for  that  renowned  maid,"  &c 
And  in  Middleton's  Mad  World  my  Masters :  "  This  shows 
like  kneeling  after  the  play ;  I  praying  for  my  lord  Owemuch  and 
his  good  countess,  our  honourable  lady  and  mistress."     Farmer. 
Thus,  at  the  end  of  Preston's  Cambyses  : 

"  As  duty  binds  us,  for  our  noble  queene  let  us  pray, 

"  And  for  her  honourable  councel,  the  truth  that  they  may 
use, 
"  To  practise  justice,  and  defend  her  grace  eche  day ; 

"  To  maintaine  God's  word  they  may  not  refuse, 
"  To  correct  all  those  that  would  her  grace  and  grace's  laws 

abuse : 
"  Beseeching  God  over  us  she  may  reign  long, 
*  To  be  guided  by  trueth  and  defended  from  wrong." 
"  Amen,  q.  Thomas  Preston." 
So,  at  the  end  of  All  for  Money,  a  morality,  by  T.  Lupton, 
1578: 

"  Let  us  pray  for  the  queen's  majesty,  our  sovereign  gover- 

nour, 
"  That  she  mav  raign  quietly  according  to  God's  will,"  &c. 
6 


EPILOGUE.  243 

Again,  at  the  end  of  Lusty  Juventus,  a  morality,  1561  : 
"  Now  let  us  make  supplications  together, 
"  For  the  prosperous  estate  of  our  noble  and  virtuous  king," 
&c. 
Again,  at  the  end  of  The  Disobedient  Child,  an  interlude,  by 
Thomas  Ingeland,  bl.  1.  no  date : 

"  Here  the  rest  of  the  players  come  in,  and  kneel  down  all  togy- 
thert  eche  of  them  sayinge  one  of  these  verses  : 
"  And  last  of  all,  to  make  an  end, 

"  O  God  to  the  we  most  humblye  praye 
"  That  to  Queen  Elizabeth  thou  do  sende 

"  Thy  lyvely  pathe  and  perfect  wave,"  &c.  &c. 
Again,  at  the  conclusion  of  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife,  16G1  : 
"  Which  God  preserve  our  noble  queen, 
"  From  perilous  chance  which  hath  been  seene  ; 
"  And  send  her  subjects  grace,  say  I, 
•*  To  serve  her  highness  patiently  !  " 
Again,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  comedy  called  A  Knack  to  Know 
a  Knave,  1594 : 

"  And  may  her  days  of  blisse  never  have  an  end, 
"  Upon  whose  lyfe  so  many  lyves  depend." 
Again,  at  the  end  of  Apius  and  Virginia,  1575  : 

"  Beseeching  God,  as  duty  is,  our  gracious  queene  to  save, 
"  The  nobles  and  the  commons  eke,  with  prosperous  life  I 
crave." 
Lastly,  Sir  John  Harrington's  Metamorphosis  of  Ajax,  1596, 
finishes  with  these  words  :  "  But  I  will  neither  end  with  sermon 
nor  prayer,    lest  some  wags  liken   me  to  my  L.  (  ) 

players,  who  when  they  have  ended  a  baudie  comedy,  as  though 
they  were  a  preparative  to  devotion,  kneele  down  solemnly,  and 
pray  all  the  companie  to  pray  with  them  for  their  good  lord  and 
maister." 

Almost  all  the  ancient  interludes  I  have  met  with  conclude  with 
some  solemn  prayer  for  the  king  or  queen,  house  of  commons,  &c. 
Hence,  perhaps,  the  Vivant  Rex  et  Regina,  at  the  bottom  of  our 
modern  play-bills.     Steevens. 


*'  And  struck  me  in  my  very  seat  of  judgment."  p.  210,  Idonot 
recollect  that  any  of  the  editors  of  our  author  have  thought  this 
remarkable  passage  worthy  of  a  note.  The  Chief  Justice,  in 
this  play,  was  Sir  William  Gascoigne,  of  whom  the  following 
memoir  may  be  as  acceptable  as  necessary: 

While  at  the  bar,  Henry  of  Bolingbroke  had  been  his  client ; 
and  upon  the  decease  of  John  of  Gaunt,  by  the  above  Henry, 
his  heir,  then  in  banishment,  he  was  appointed  his  attorney,  to 
sue  in  the  Court  of  Wards  the  livery  of  the  estates  descended  to 
him.  Richard  II.  revoked  the  letters  patent  for  this  purpose, 
and  defeated  the  intent  of  them,  and  therebv  furnished  a  ground 

R  2 


244  EPILOGUE. 

for  the  invasion  of  his  kingdom  by  the  heir  of  Gaunt ;  who  be- 
coming afterwards  Henry  IV.  appointed  Gascoigne  Chief  Justice 
of  the  King's  Bench  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign.  In  that  station 
Gascoigne  acquired  the  character  of  a  learned,  an  upright,  a 
wise,  and  an  intrepid  judge.  The  story  so  frequently  alluded  to 
of  his  committing  the  prince  for  an  insult  on  his  person,  and 
the  court  wherein  he  presided,  is  thus  related  by  Sir  Thomas 
Elyot,  in  his  book  entitled  The  Governour  :  "The  moste  renouned 
prince  king  Henry  the  fyfte,  late  kynge  of  Englande,  durynge  the 
lyfe  of  his  father,  was  noted  to  be  fiers  and  of  wanton  courage  : 
it  hapned,  that  one  of  his  seruauntes,  whom  he  fauoured  well,  was 
for  felony  by  him  committed,  arrained  at  the  kynges  benche : 
whereof  the  prince  being  aduertised  and  incensed  by  lyghte 
persones  aboute  him,  in  furious  rage  came  hastily  to  the  barre 
where  his  seruante  stode  as  a  prisoner,  and  commaunded  him  to 
be  vngyued  and  set  at  libertie :  whereat  all  men  were  abashed, 
reserved  the  chiefe  Justice,  who  humbly  exhorted  the  prince,  to 
be  contented,  that  his  seruaunt  mought  be  ordred,  accordynge  to 
the  aunciente  lawes  of  this  realme :  or  if  he  wolde  haue  hym 
saued  from  the  rigour  of  the  lawes,  that  he  shulde  obteyne,  if  he 
moughte,  of  the  kynge  his  father,  his  gratious  pardon,  wherby 
no  lawe  or  justyce  shulde  be  derogate.  With  whiche  answere 
the  prince  nothynge  appeased,  but  rather  more  inflamed,  en- 
deuored  hym  selfe  to  take  away  his  seruant.  The  iuge  consider- 
ing the  perillous  example,  and  inconuenience  that  mought  therby 
ensue,  with  a  valyant  spirite  and  courage,  commanded  the  prince 
vpon  his  alegeance,  to  leave  the  prisoner,  and  depart  his  way. 
With  which  commandment  the  prince  being  set  all  in  a  fury,  all 
chafed  and  in  a  terrible  maner,  came  vp  to  the  place  of  iugement, 
men  thynking  that  he  wold  haue  slayne  the  iuge,  or  haue  done 
to  hym  some  damage  :  but  the  iuge  sittynge  styll  without  mouing, 
declaring  the  maiestie  of  the  kynges  place  of  iugement,  and  with 
an  assured  and  bolde  countenaunce,  had  to  the  prince,  these 
wordes  followyng, 

"  '  Syr,  remembre  yourselfe,  I  kepe  here  the  place  of  the  kyng 
your  soueraine  lorde  and  father,  to  whom  ye  owe  double  obe- 
dience :  wherfore  eftsoones  in  his  name,  I  charge  you  desyste  of 
your  wylfulnes  and  vnlaufull  enterprise,  &  from  hensforth  giue 
good  example  to  those,  whyche  hereafter  shall  be  your  propre 
subjectes.  And  nowe,  for  your  contempte  and  disobedience,  go 
you  to  the  prysone  of  the  kynges  benche,  wherevnto  I  commytte 
you,  and  remayne  ye  there  prysoner  vntyll  the  pleasure  of  the 
kynge  your  father  be  further  knowen.' 

"  With  whiche  wordes  being  abashed,  and  also  wondiynge  at 
the  meruayjous  gravitie  of  that  worshypfulle  justyce,  the  noble 
prince  layinge  his  weapon  aparte,  doying  reuerence,  departed, 
and  wente  to  the  kynges  benche,  as  he  was  commanded.  Wherat 
his  servauntes  disdaynynge,  came  and  shewed  to  the  kynge  all 
the  hole  affaire.     Whereat  he  awhyles  studyenge,  after  as  a  man 


EPILOGUE.  245 

all  rauyshed  with  gladnes,  holdynge  his  eien  and  handes  vp  to- 
warde  heuen,  abraided,  saying  with  a  loude  voice,  '  O  mercifull 
God,  howe  moche  am  I,  aboue  all  other  men,  bounde  to  your 
infinite  goodnes,  specially  for  that  ye  haue  gyuen  me  a  iuge,  who 
feareth  nat  to  minister  iustyce,  and  also  a  sonne,  who  can  suffre 
semblably,  and  obeye  iustyce  !  ' " 

And  here  it  may  be  noted,  that  Shakspeare  has  deviated  from 
history  in  bringing  the  Chief  Justice  and  Henry  V.  together,  for 
it  is  expressly  said  by  Fuller,  in  his  Worthies  of  Yorkshire,  and 
that  on  the  best  authority,  that  Gascoigne  died  in  the  life-time 
of  his  father,  viz.  on  the  first  day  of  November,  14  Henry  IV. 
See  Dugd.  Origines  Juridic.  in  the  Chronica  Series,  fol.  54,  56. 
Neither  is  it  to  be  presumed  but  that  this  laboured  defence  of  his 
conduct  is  a  fiction  of  the  poet:  and  it  may  justly  be  inferred 
from  the  character  of  this  very  able  lawyer,  whose  name  fre- 
quently occurs  in  the  year-book  of  his  time,  that,  having  had 
spirit  and  resolution  to  vindicate  the  authority  of  the  law,  in  the 
punishment  of  the  prince,  he  disdained  a  formal  apology  for  an 
act  that  is  recorded  to  his  honour.     Sir  J.  Hawkins. 

In  the  foregoing  account  of  this  transaction,  there  is  no  men- 
tion of  the  Prince's  having  struck  Gascoigne,  the  Chief  Justice. 
Holinshed,  however,  whom  our  author  copied,  speaking  of  the 
"  wanton  pastime  "  in  which  Prince  Henry  passed  his  youth, 
says,  that  "  where  on  a  time  hee  stroke  the  chieje  justice  on  the 
face  with  his  Jisle,  for  emprisoning  one  of  his  mates,  he  was  not 
only  committed  to  straighte  prison  himselfe  by  the  sayde  chief 
justice,  but  also  of  his  father  put  out  of  the  privie  counsell  and 
banished  the  courte."  Holinshed  has  here  followed  Hall.  Our 
author  (as  an  anonymous  writer  has  observed)  [Mr.  Ritson] 
might  have  found  the  same  circumstance  in  the  old  play  of  King 
Henry  V. 

With  respect  to  the  anachronism,  Sir  William  Gascoigne  cer- 
tainly died  before  the  accession  of  Henry  V.  to  the  throne,  as 
appears  from  the  inscription  which  was  once  legible  on  his  tomb- 
stone, in  Harwood  church,  in  Yorkshire,  and  was  as  follows  : 
"  Hie  jacet  Wil'mus  Gascoigne,  nuper  capit.  justic.  de  banco, 
Hen.  nuper  regis  Angliae  quarti,  qui  quidem  Wil'mus  ob.  die 
domi'ca  17."  die  Decembris.  an  dom.  1412,  14. t0  Henrici  quarti, 
factus  index,  1491 ."     See  Gent.  Magazine,  vol.  li.  p.  624. 

Shakspeare,  however,  might  have  been  misled  on  the  autho- 
rity of  Stowe,  who  in  a  marginal  note,  1  Henry  V.  erroneously 
asserts  that  "  William  Gascoigne  was  chief  justice  of  the  Kings 
Bench  from  the  sixt  of  Henry  IV.  to  the  third  of  Henry  the 
Fift:"  or,  (which  is  full  as  probable,)  Shakspeare  might  have 
been  careless  about  the  matter.     Malone. 


KING    HENRY    V. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


1  HIS  play  was  writ  (as  appears  from  a  passage  in  the  chorus  to 
the  fifth  Act)  at  the  time  of  the  Earl  of  Essex's  commanding  the 
forces  in  Ireland  in  the  reign  of  Queeh  Elizabeth,  and  not  till 
after  Henry  the  Sixth  had  been  played,  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
conclusion  of  this  play.     Popk. 

The  transactions  comprised  in  this  historical  play  commence 
about  the  latter  end  of  the  first,  and  terminate  in  the  eighth  year 
of  this  king's  reign:  when  he  married  Katharine  princess  of 
France,  and  closed  up  the  differences  betwixt  England  and  that 
crown.     Theobald. 

This  play,  in  the  quarto  edition,  1608,  is  styled  The  Chronicle 
History  of  Henry,  &c.  which  seems  to  have  been  the  title  an- 
ciently appropriated  to  all  Shakspeare's  historical  dramas.  So, 
in  The  Antipodes,  a  comedy,  by  R.  Brome,  1638  : 

"  These  lads  can  act  the  emperors'  lives  all  over, 
"  And  Shakspeare's  Chronicled  Histories  to  boot." 

The  players  likewise,  in  the  folio  edition,  1623,  rank  these 
pieces  under  the  title  of  Histories. 

It  is  evident  that  a  play  on  this  subject  had  been  performed 
before  the  year  1592.  Nash,  in  Pierce  Penniless  his  Supplication 
to  the  Devil,  dated  1592,  says :  "  —  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is 
to  have  Henry  the  Fift  represented  on  the  stage,  leading  the 
French  king  prisoner,  and  forcing  both  him  and  the  Dolphin  to 
sweare  fealtie." 

Perhaps  this  is  the  same  play  as  was  thus  entered  in  the  books 
of  the  Stationers'  company :  "  Tho.  Strode]  May  2,  1594.  A 
booke  entituled  The  famous  Victories  of  Henry  the  Fift,  con- 
taining the  honorable  Battle  of  Agincourt."  There  are  two 
more  entries  of  a  play  of  Henry  V.  viz.  between  1596  and  1615, 
and  one  August  14th,  1600.  I  have  two  copies  of  it  in  my 
possession ;  one  without  date,  (which  seems  much  the  elder  of 
the  two,)  and  another,  (apparently  printed  from  it,)  dated  1617, 
though  printed  by  Bernard  Alsop,  (who  was  printer  of  the  other 
edition,)  and  sold  by  the  same  person,  and  at  the  same  place. 
Alsop  appears  to  have  been  a  printer  before  the  year  1600,  and 
was  afterwards  one  of  the  twenty  appointed  by  decree  of  the 
Star-chamber  to  print  for  this  kingdom.  I  believe,  however,  this 
piece  to  have  been  prior  to  that  of  Shakspeare,  for  several  reasons. 
First,  because  it  is  highly  probable  that  it  is  the  very  "  dis- 
pleasing play  "  alluded  to  in  the  epilogue  to  The  Second  Part  of 
King  Henry  IV. — "  for  Oldcastle  died  a  martyr."     Oldcastle  is 


250  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

the  Falstaff  of  the  piece,  which  is  despicable,  and  full  of  ribaldry 
and  impiety  from  the  first  scene  to  the  last. — Secondly,  because 
Shakspeare  seems  to  have  taken  not  a  few  hints  from  it ;  for  it 
comprehends,  in  some  measure,  the  story  of  the  two  parts  of 
Henry  IV.  as  well  as  of  Henry  V.  and  no  ignorance,  I  think, 
could  debase  the  gold  of  Shakspeare  into  such  dross  ;  though  no 
chemistry  but  that  of  Shakspeare  could  exalt  such  base  metal 
into  gold. — When  the  Prince  of  Wales,  ift  H<>iiy  IV.  calls 
Falstaff  "  my  old  lad  of  the  Castle,"  it  is  probably  but  a  sneering 
allusion  to  the  deserved  fate  which  this  performance  met  with  ; 
for  there  is  no  proof  that  our  poet  was  ever  obliged  to  change  the 
name  of  Oldcastle  into  that  of  Falstaff,  though  there  is  an  absolute 
certainty  that  this  piece  must  have  been  condemned  by  any 
audience  before  whom  it  was  ever  represented. — Lastly,  because 
it  appears  (as  Dr.  Farmer  has  observed)  from  the  Jests  of  the 
famous  comedian,  Tarlton,  4to.  1611,  that  he  had  been  particu- 
larly celebrated  in  the  part  of  the  Clown  *,  in  Henry  V.  and 
though  this  character  does  not  exist  in  our  play,  we  find  it  in  the 
other,  which,  for  the  reasons  already  enumerated,  I  suppose  to 
have  been  prior  to  this. 

This  anonymous  play  of  Henry  V.  is  neither  divided  into  Acts 
or  scenes,  is  uncommonly  short,  and  has  all  the  appearance  of 
having  been  imperfectly  taken  down  during  the  representation. 
As  much  of  it  appears  to  have  been  omitted,  we  may  suppose 
that  the  author  did  not  think  it  convenient  for  his  reputation  to 
publish  a  more  ample  copy. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  play  called  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  published 
in  1600,  with  the  name  of  William  Shakspeare  prefixed  to  it. 
The  prologue  beitog  very  short,  I  shall  quote  it,  as  it  serves  to 
prove  that  a  former  piece,  in  which  the  character  of  Oldcastle 
was  introduced,  had  given  great  offence  : 

"  The  doubtful  title  (gentlemen)  prefixt 

"  Upon  the  argument  we  have  in  hand, 

"  May  breed  suspense,  and  wrongfully  disturbe 

"  The  peaceful  quiet  of  your  settled  thoughts. 


*  Mr.  Oldys,  in  a  manuscript  note  in  his  copy  of  Langbaine, 
says,  that  Tarleton  appeared  in  the  character  of  the  Judge  who 
receives  the  box  on  the  ear.  This  Judge  is  likewise  a  character 
in  the  old  play.  I  may  add,  on  the  authority  of  the  books  at 
Stationers'  Hall,  that  Tarleton  published  what  he  called  his 
Farewell,  a  ballad,  in  Sept.  1588.  In  Oct.  1589,  was  entered, 
"  Tarleton's  Repentance,  and  his  Farewell  to  his  Friends  in  his 
Sickness  a  little  before  his  Death ; "  in  1590,  "  Tarleton's 
Newes  out  of  Purgatorie  ;  "  and  in  the  same  year,  "  A  pleasrunt 
Ditty  Dialogue-wise,  between  Tarlton's  Ghost  and  Robyn  Good- 
fellowe."     Stebvens.  r- 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  251 

"  To  stop  which  scruple,  let  this  breefe  suffice : 

"  It  is  no  pamper'd  glutton  we  present, 

"  Nor  aged  councellour  to  youthful  sinne  ; 

"  But  one,  whose  vertue  shone  above  the  rest, 

"  A  valiant  martyr,  and  a  vertuous  peere  ; 

"  In  whose  true  faith  and  loyalty  exprest 

"  Unto  his  soveraigne,  and  his  countries  weale, 

"  We  strive  to  pay  that  tribute  of  our  love 

"  Your  favours  merit :  let  faire  truth  be  grac'd, 

"  Since  forg'd  invention  former  time  defac'd." 

Steevens. 
The  piece  to  which  Nash  alludes  is  the  old  anonymous  play 
of  King  Henry  V.  which  had  been  exhibited  before  the  year 
1588.  Tarlton,  the  comedian,  who  performed  in  it  both  the 
parts  of  the  Chief  Justice  and  the  Clown,  having  died  in  that 
year.  It  was  entered  on  the  Stationers'  books  in  1594,  and,  I 
believe,  printed  in  that  year,  though  I  have  not  met  with  a  copy 
of  that  date.  An  edition  of  it,  printed  in  1598,  is  in  my  col- 
lection. See  also  the  notes  at  the  end  of  Henry  IV.  Part  I. 
vol.  xvi.  p.  410. 

The  play  before  us  appears  to  have  been  written  m  the  middle 
of  the  year  1599.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of 
Shakspeare's  Plays,  vol.  ii. 

The  old  King  Henry  V.  may  be  found  among  Six  old  Plays 
on  which  Shakspeare  founded,  &c.  printed  by  S.  Leacroft,  1778. 

Malone. 
Of  this  play  there  were  three  quarto  editions  in  our  author's  life- 
time, 1600,  1602,  and  1608.      In  all  of  them  the  choruses  are 
omitted,  and  the  play  commences  with  the  fourth  speech  of  the 
second  scene.     Boswell. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


King  Henry  the  Fifth. 

Duke  of  Gloster,   It,,,        .    ..     „. 

~  T       tj  5    y  Brothers  to  the  King;. 

Duke  of  Bedford,  j  ° 

Duke  of  Exeter,  Uncle  to  the  King. 

Duke  of  York,  Cousin  to  the  King. 

Earls    of    Salisbury,    Wesmoreland,    and 

Warwick. 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

Bishop  of  Ely. 

Earl  of  Cambridge,"*  ^  .  .      ,u 

Lord  Scroop,  (Conspirators  against   the 

Sir  Thomas  Grey,      j  Kmg* 

Sir  Thomas  Erpingham,   Gower,   Fluellen, 

Macmorris,  Jamy,  Officers  in  King  Henry's 

Army. 
Bates,  Court,  Williams,  Soldiers  in  the  same. 
Nym,  Bardolph,  Pistol,  formerly  Servants  to 

Falstaff,  now  Soldiers  in  the  same. 
Boy,  Servant  to  them.     A  Herald.     Chorus. 

Charles  the  Sixth,  King  of  France. 

Lewis,  the  Dauphin. 

Dukes  of  Burgundy,  Orleans,  and  Bourbon. 

The  Constable  of  France. 

Rambures,  and  Grandpree,  French  Lords. 

Governor  of  Harfleur.  Montjoy,  a  French  Herald. 

Ambassadors  to  the  King  of  England. 

Isabel,  Queen  of  France. 
Katharine,  Daughter  of  Charles  and  Isabel. 
Alice,  a  Lady  attending  on  the  Princess  Katharine. 
Quickly,  Pistol's  Wife,  an  Hostess. 

Lords,  Ladies,  Officers,  French  and  English  Soldiers, 
Messengers,  and  Attendants. 

The  SCENE,  at  the  Beginning  of  the  Play,  lies  in 
England  ;  but  afterwards,  wholly  in  France. 


CHORUS. 

=  .  - 1  j 

Enter  Chorus. 

O,  for  a  muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 
The  brightest  heaven  of  invention l ! 
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  employment3.     But  pardon,  gentles  all, 

1  O,  for  a  muse  of  fire,  &c]  This  goes  upon  the  notion  of  the 
Peripatetic  system,  which  imagines  several  heavens  one  above 
another ;  the  last  and  highest  of  which  was  one  of  fire. 

Warburton. 

It  alludes  likewise  to  the  aspiring  nature  of  fire,  which,  by  its 
levity,  at  the  separation  of  the  chaos,  took  the  highest  seat  of  all 
the  elements.     Johnson. 

"  This,"  says  Dr.  Warburton,  "  goes  upon  the  notion  of  the 
Peripatetic  system,  which  imagines  several  heavens  one  above 
another ;  the  last  and  highest  of  which  was  one  of  fire."  We 
have  here  one  of  the  very  best  specimens  of  the  doctor's  flights  of 
fancy.  Shakspeare,  in  all  probability,  knew  nothing  of  the  Peri- 
patetic philosophy ;  he  simply  wishes  for  poetic  fire,  and  a  due 
portion  of  inventive  genius.  The  other  explanation  by  Dr.  John- 
son seems  likewise  too  refined.     Douce. 

2  —  princes  to  act, 

And  monarchs  to  behold  — ]     Shakspeare  does  not  tfeem  to 
set  distance  enough  between  the  performers  and  spectators. 

Johnson. 

3  Leash'd  in  like  hounds,  should  famine,  sword,  and  fire, 
Crouch  for  employment.]      In  King  Henry  VI.  "  Lean  fa- 
mine,  quartering  steel,  and  climbing  fire,"  are  called  the  three 
attendants  on  the  English  General,  Lord  Talbot ;  and,  as  I  sup- 
pose, are  the  dogs  of  war  mentioned  in  Julius  Caesar. 

This  image  of  the  warlike  Henry  very  much  resembles  Mont- 
faucon's  description  of  the  Mars  discovered  at  Bresse,  who  leads 
a  lion  and  a  lioness  in  couples,  and  crouching  as  for  employment. 

Tollet. 
Warner,  in  his   Albion's  England,  1602,   speaking  of  King 
Henry  V.  says : 

"  He  led  good  fortune  in  a  line,  and  did  but  war  and  win." 

5 


254  CHORUS. 

The  flat  unraised  spirit4  that  hath  dar'd, 
On  this  unworthy  scaffold,  to  bring  forth 
So  great  an  object :  can  this  cockpit  hold 
The  vasty  fields  of  France  ?  or  may  we  cram 
Within  this  wooden  O  5  the  very  casques,  ° 

Holinshed,  (p.  567,)  when  the  people  of  Roan  petitioned  King 
Henry  V.  has  put  this  sentiment  into  his  mouth  :  "  He  declared 
that  the  goddesse  of  battell,  called  Bellona,  had  three  hand- 
maidens, ever  of  necessitie  attending  upon  her,  as  blood,  fire,  and 
famine"     Steevens. 

*  —  spirit,]     Old  copy — spirits.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe. 

Malone. 

5  Within  this  wooden  O,]  Nothing  shows  more  evidently  the 
power  of  custom  over  language,  than  that  the  frequent  use  of  call- 
ing a  circle  an  O  could  so  much  hide  the  meanness  of  the  meta- 
phor from  Shakspeare,  that  he  has  used  it  many  times  where  he 
makes  his  most  eager  attempts  at  dignity  of  style.     Johnson. 

Johnson's  criticism  on  Shakspeare's  calling  a  circle  an  O,  is 
rather  injudiciously  introduced  in  this  place,  where  it  was  evidently 
the  poet's  intention  to  represent  the  circle  in  which  they  acted  in 
as  contemptible  a  light  as  he  could.     M.  Mason. 

"  Within  this  wooden  O."  An  allusion  to  the  theatre  where 
this  history  was  exhibited,  being,  from  its  circular  form,  called 
The  Globe.  The  same  expression  is  applied,  for  the  like  reason, 
to  the  world,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  A  sun  and  moon  which  kept  their  course,  and  lighted 
"  The  little  o,  the  earth." 

I  know  not  whether  Shakspeare  calls  the  Globe  playhouse  a 
cock-pit,  from  its  being  a  round  building,  or  else  from  its  serving 
that  purpose  also :  the  latter  appears  probable,  from  his  styling 
the  floor  an  unworthy  scaffold,  which  suggests  the  idea  of  its  being 
temporary,  and  that  the  edifice  answered  both  turns,  by  means  of 
a  slight  alteration.     Henley. 

This  theatre,  like  all  our  ancient  ones,  was  denominated  from 
its  sign,  viz.  The  Globe,  and  not  from  its  shape.  Had  playhouses 
been  named  with  reference  to  their  form  of  construction,  what  sort 
of  building  could  have  corresponded  with  the  title  of  a  Red  Bull, 
a  Curtain,  a  Fortune,  Cross  Keys,  a  Phoenix,  &c.  ?  " 

Shakspeare,  meaning  to  degrade  the  stage  he  was  describing, 
may  call  it  a  cock-pit,  because  a  cock-pit  was  the  most  diminutive 
enclosure  present  to  his  mind  ;  or,  perhaps,  because  there  was  a 
playhouse  called  The  Cock-pit,  at  which  King  Henry  V.  might 
first  have  been  acted.  N.  B.  From  Mr.  Henley's  own  drawing  of 
The  Globe,  the  outside  of  it,  at  least,  appears  to  have  been  octa- 
gonal.    Steevens. 


CHORUS.  255 

That  did  affright  the  air  at  Agincourt 7? 
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 8  work  : 
Suppose,  within  the  girdle  of  these  walls 
Are  now  confin'd  two  mighty  monarchies, 
Whose  high  upreared  and  abutting  fronts 
The  perilous,  narrow  ocean  parts  asunder 9. 

Mr.  Steevens's  first  explanation  was  the  right  one.  The  play- 
house called  the  Cock-pit  was  not  built  till  several  years  after  the 
appearance  of  Henry  V.  See  the  History  of  the  English  Stage, 
vol.  iii.     Malone. 

6  — the  very  CAsauES,]     The  helmets.     Johnson. 
"  The  very  casques,"  does  not  mean  the  identical  casques,  but 
the  casques  only,  the  casques  alone.     So,  in  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,  Katharine  says  to  Grumio : 

" Thou  false  deluding  slave, 

"  That  feed'st  me  with  the  very  name  of  meat." 
The  very  name,  means  here,  the  name  only.     M.  Mason. 
"  The  very  casques,"  are — even  the  casques  or  helmets  ;  much 
less  the  men  by  whom  they  were  worn.     So,  in  Macbeth : 
"  — —  for  fear 

"  Thy  very  stones  prate  of  my  wherealxwt."     Malone. 
?  —  casques, 
That  did  affright  the  air — ]  Thus  Prudentius,  in  Psycho- 
machia,  297  : 

clypeo  dum  territat  auras.     Steevens. 

8  —  imaginary  forces — ]  Imaginary  for  imaginative,  or 
your  powers  of  fancy.  Active  and  passive  words  are  by  this  au- 
thor frequently  confounded.     Johnson. 

9  Whose  high  upreared  and  abutting  fronts 

The  perilous,  narrow  ocean  parts  asunder.]  Perilous 
narrow,  in  burlesque  and  common  language,  meant  no  more  than 
very  narrow.  In  old  books  this  mode  of  expression  occurs  per- 
petually. A  perilous  broad  brim  to  a  hat,  a  perilous  long  sword, 
&c.  So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Humourous  Lieutenant : 
"  She  is  perilous  crafty." 
Thus,  villainous  is  only  used  to  exaggerate,  in  The  Tempest : 

" be  turn'd  to  barnacles  or  apes 

"  With  foreheads  villainous  low." 
Again,   in  John  Florio's  Preface  to  his  translation   of  Mon- 
taigne : 

" in  this  perilous  crook'd  passage — ." 


256  CHORUS. 

Piece  out  our  imperfections  with  your  thoughts ; 
Into  a  thousand  parts  divide  one  man  \ 
And  make  imaginary  puissance  2 : 
Think,  when  we  talk  of  horses,  that  you  see  them 
Printing  their  proud  hoofs  i'  the  receiving  earth : 
For  'tis  your  thoughts   that  now  must  deck  our 
kings, 

The  narrow  seas,  however,  were  always  reckoned  dangerous, 
insomuch  that  Golding,  in  his  version  of  the  14-th  book  of  Ovid's 
Metamorphosis,  translates — Scevior  illajreto  surgente, — 

" the  lady  crueller 

"  Than  are  the  rising  narrow  seas'' 
Again,  in  Burton's  Anatomie  of  Melancholy,  edit.  1632,  p.  326 : 
"  How  full  of  feare,  how  furious  ? 
"  The  narrow  seas  are  not  so  boisterous."     Steevens. 
The  present  reading  is  right,  but  there  should  be  a  comma 
between  the  words  perilous  and  narrow,  as  it  was  by  no  means 
Shakspeare's  intention  to  join  them  together,  and  to  make  a  bur- 
lesque phrase  of  them,  such  as  Steevens  describes.  The  perilous- 
ness  of  the  ocean  to  be  passed  by  the  army,  before  the  meeting 
of  the  kings,  adds  to  the  grandeur  and  interest  of  the  scene  ; 
and  it  is  well  known  that  narrow  seas  are  the  most,  perilous.     So, 
the  Chorus  in  the  next  Act  insinuates  that  it  was  necessary, 

" To  charm  the  narrow  seas 

"  To  give  them  gentle  pass." 
And  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  the  narrow  seas  are  made  the 
scene  of  shipwrecks,  where  Salarino  says,  "  Antonio  hath  a  ship 
of  rich  lading  wrecked  on  the  narrow  seas  ;  the  Goodwins  I  think 
they  call  the  place  ;  a  very  dangerous  flat,  and  fatal,"  &c. 

M.  Mason. 

1  Into  a  thousand  parts  divide  one  man,"]  The  meaning  of 
this  is,  '  Suppose  every  man  to  represent  a  thousand ; '  but  it  is 
very  ill  expressed.     M.  Mason. 

2  And  make  imaginary  puissance  :]  This  shows  that  Shak- 
speare  was  fully  sensible  of  the  absurdity  of  showing  battles  on 
the  theatre,  which,  indeed,  is  never  done,  but  tragedy  becomes 
farce.  Nothing  can  be  represented  to  the  eye,  but  by  something 
like  it,  and  within  a  wooden  O  nothing  very  like  a  battle  can  be 
exhibited.     Johnson. 

Other  authors  of  that  age  seem  to  have  been  sensible  of  the 
same  absurdities.  In  Heywood's  Fair  Maid  of  the  West,  1631,  a 
Chorus  enters  and  says  : 

"  Our  stage  so  lamely  can  express  a  sea, 

'*  That  we  are  forc'd  by  Chorus  to  discourse 

"  What  should  have  been  in  action,"  &c.     Steevens. 


CHORUS.  257 

Carry  them  here  and  there 3 ;  jumping  o'er  times  4 ; 
Turning  the  accomplishment  of  many  years 
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. 

3  For 'tis  your  thoughts  that  now  must  deck  our  kings, 
Carry  them  here  and  there ;]  We  may  read  king  for  kings. 
The  prologue  relates  only  to  this  single  play.  The  mistake  was 
made  by  referring  them  to  kings,  which  belongs  to  thoughts.  The 
sense  is,  '  your  thoughts  must  give  the  king  his  proper  greatness ; 
carry  therefore  your  thoughts  here  and  there,  jumping  over  time, 
and  crouding  years  into  an  hour.'     Johnson. 

I  am  not  sure  that  Dr.  Johnson's  observation  is  just.  In  this 
play  the  king  of  France,  as  well  as  England,  makes  his  appear- 
ance ;  and  the  sense  may  be  this  : — "  It  must  be  to  your  ima- 
ginations that  our  kings  are  indebted  for  their  royalty.'  Let  the 
fancy  of  the  spectator  furnish  out  those  appendages  to  greatness 
which  the  poverty  of  our  stage  is  unable  to  supply.  The  poet  is 
still  apologizing  for  the  defects  of  theatrical  representation. 

Steevens. 

Johnson  is,  in  my  opinion,  mistaken  also  in  his  explanation  of 
the  remainder  of  the  sentence.  "  Carry  them  here  and  there" 
does  not  mean,  as  he  supposes,  '  Carry  your  thoughts  here  and 
there ; '  for  the  Chorus  not  only  calls  upon  the  imagination  of  the 
audience  to  adorn  his  kings,  but  to  carry  them  also  from  one  place 
to  another,  though  by  a  common  poetical  licence  the  copulative 
be  omitted.     M.  Mason. 

*  —  jumping  o'er  times ;]  So,  in  the  prologue  to  Troilus 
and  Cressida : 

"  Leaps  o'er  the  vaunt  and  firstlings  of  those  broils — ." 

Steevens. 


VOL.  XVII. 


KING    HENRY    V. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  P. 

London  6.    An  Ante-chamber  in  the  King's  Palace. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury1  ,  and  Bishop 
of  Ely8. 

Cant.  My  lord,  I'll  tell  you,— that  self  bill  is 
urg'd, 
Which  in  the  eleventh  year  o'  the  last  king's  reign 
Was  like,  and  had  indeed  against  us  pass'd, 
But  that  the  scambling  and  unquiet  time9 

5  This  first  scene  was  added  since  the  edition  of  1608,  which  is 
much  short  of  the  present  editions,  wherein  the  speeches  are  ge- 
nerally enlarged  and  raised  :  several  whole  scenes  besides,  and  all 
the  chorusses  also,  were  since  added  by  Shakspeare.     Pope. 

6  London.]  It  appears  from  Hall's  and  Holinshed's  Chronicles, 
that  the  business  of  this  scene  was  transacted  at  Leicester,  where 
King  Henry  V.  held  a  parliament  in  the  second  year  of  his  reign. 
But  the  chorus  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  Act  shows  that  the 
author  intended  to  make  London  the  place  of  his  first  scene. 

Malone. 

7  —  of  Canterbury,]  Henry  Chicheley,  a  Carthusian  monk, 
recently  promoted  to  the  see  of  Canterbury.     Malone 

8  Ely.~\     John  Fordham,  consecrated  1388;  died  1426. 

Reed. 

9  —  the  scambling  and  unquiet  time — ]  In  the  household 
book  of  the  5th  Earl  of  Northumberland  there  is  a  particular  sec- 
tion, appointing  the  order  of  service  for  the  scambling  days  in  Lent ; 
that  is,  days  on  which  no  regular  meals  were  provided,  but  every 
one  scumbled,  i.  e.  scrambled  and  shifted  for  himself  as  well  as  he 
could.  So,  in  the  old  noted  book  intitled  Leicester's  Common- 
wealth, one  of  the  marginal  heads  is,  "  Scrambling  between  Leices- 
ter and  Huntington  at  the  upshot."  Where  in  the  text,  the  au- 
thor says,  "  Hastings,  for  ought  I  see,  when  hee  commeth  to 
the  scambling,  is  like  to  have  no  better  luck  by  the  beare  [Leices- 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  259 

Did  push  it  out  of  further  question1. 

Ely.  But  how,  my  lord,  shall  we  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, 
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  alms-houses,  right  well  supplied ; 
And  to  the  coffers  of  the  king  beside, 
A  thousand  pounds  by  the  year2 :  Thus  runs  the 
bill. 

Ely.  This  would  drink  deep. 

Cant.  'Twould  drink  the  cup  and  all. 

Ely.  But  what  prevention  ? 

Cant.  The  king  is  full  of  grace,  and  fair  regard. 


ter]  then  his  ancestour  had  once  by  the  boare."  [K.  Richard  III.] 
edit.  1641,  12mo.  p.  87.  So  again,  Shakspeare  himself  makes 
King  Henry  V.  say  to  the  Princess  Katharine,  **  I  get  thee  with 
scambling,  and  thou  must  therefore  prove  a  good  soldier-breeder." 
Act  V.     Percy. 

Shakspeare  uses  the  same  word  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing : 

"  Scambling,  out-facing,  fashion-mong'ring  boys." 
Again,  in  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton,  1608  : 
"  Leave  us  to  scamble  for  her  getting  out." 
See  vol.  vii.  p.  134?,  n.  3.     Steevens. 
1  —  out  of  further  auESTioN.]     i.  e.  of  further  debate. 

Malone. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra : 

"  If  we  contemn,  out  of  our  question  wipe  him." 

Steevens. 
*  A  thousand  pounds  by  the  year :]    Hall,  who  appears  to  have 
been  Shakspeare's  authority,    in  the   above   enumeration,  says, 
"  and  the  kyng  to  have  clerely  in  his  cofers  tvoentie  thousand 
poundes."     Reed. 

S  2 


260  KING  HENRY  V.  act  l 

Ely.  And  a  true  lover  of  the  holy  church. 

Cant.  The  courses  of  his  youth  promis'd  it  not. 
The  breath  no  sooner  left  his  father's  body, 
But  that  his  wildness,  mortified  in  him, 
Seem'd  to  die  too 3 :  yea,  at  that  very  moment, 
Consideration  like  an  angel  came4, 
And  whipp'd  the  offending  Adam  out  of  him  ; 
Leaving  his  body  as  a  paradise, 
To  envelop  and  contain  celestial  spirits. 
Never  was  such  a  sudden  scholar  made  : 
Never  came  reformation  in  a  flood 5, 
With  such  a  heady  current 6,  scouring  faults ; 
Nor  never  Hydra-headed  wilfulness 
So  soon  did  lose  his  seat,  and  all  at  once, 
As  in  this  king. 

Ely.  We  are  blessed  in  the  change. 

Cant.  Hear  him  but  reason  in  divinity 7, 

3  The  breath  no  sooner  left  his  father's  body, 
But  that  his  wildness,  mortified  in  him, 

Seem'd  to  die  too :]     The  same  thought  occurs  in  the  last 
scene  of  the  preceding  play,  where  Henry  V.  says  : 
"  My  father  is  gone  wild  into  his  grave, 
"  For  in  his  tomb  lie  my  affections."     M.  Mason. 

4  Consideration  like  an  angel,  &c]  As  paradise,  when  sin 
and  Adam  were  driven  out  by  the  angel,  became  the  habitation  of 
celestial  spirits,  so  the  king's  heart,  since  consideration  has  driven 
out  his  follies,  is  now  the  receptacle  of  wisdom  and  of  virtue. 

Johnson. 
Mr.  Upton  observes  that,  according  to  the  Scripture  expression, 
the  old  Adam,  or  the  old  man,   signified  man  in  an  unregenerated 
or  gentile  state.     Malone. 

5  Never  came  reformation  in  a  flood,]  Alluding  to  the  method 
by  which  Hercules  cleansed  the  famous  stables,  when  he  turned  a 
river  through  them.  Hercules  still  is  in  our  author's  head  when 
he  mentions  the  Hydra.     Johnson. 

6  With  such  a  heady  current,]  Old  copy — currance.  Cor- 
rected by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

7  Hear  him  but  reason  in  divinity,  &c]  This  speech  seems  to 
have  been  copied  from  King  James's  prelates,  speaking  of  their 
Solomon ;  when  Archbishop  Whitgift,  who,  as  an  eminent  writer 
says,  "  died  soon  afterwards,  and  probably  doated  then,  at  the 
Hampton-Court  conference,  declared  himself  verily  persuaded, 


TO.  /.  KING  HENRY  V.  261 

And,  all-admiring,  with  an  inward  wish 

You  would  desire,  the  king  were  made  a  prelate: 

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  render'd  you  in  musick : 

Turn  him  to  any  cause  of  policy, 

The  Gordian  knot  of  it  he  will  unloose, 

Familiar  as  his  garter ;  that,  when  he  speaks, 

that  his  sacred  majesty  spake  by  the  spirit  of  God."  And,  in 
effect,  this  scene  was  added  after  King  James's  accession  to  the 
crown  :  so  that  we  have  no  way  of  avoiding  its  being  esteemed  a 
compliment  to  him,  but  by  supposing  it  a  compliment  to  his 
bishops.     Warburton. 

Why  these  lines  should  be  divided  from  the  rest  of  the  speech 
and  applied  to  King  James,  I  am  not  able  to  conceive  ;  nor  why 
an  opportunity  should  be  so  eagerly  snatched  to  treat  with  con- 
tempt that  part  of  his  character  which  was  the  least  contemptible. 
King  James's  theological  knowledge  was  not  inconsiderable.  To 
preside  at  disputations  is  not  very  suitable  to  a  king,  but  to  un- 
derstand the  questions  is  surely  laudable.  The  poet,  if  he  had 
James  in  his  thoughts,  was  no  skilful  encomiast ;  for  the  mention 
of  Harry's  skill  in  war  forced  upon  the  remembrance  of  his  au- 
dience the  great  deficiency  of  their  present  king  ;  who  yet,  with  all 
his  faults,  and  many  faults  he  had,  was  such,  that  Sir  Robert 
Cotton  says,  "  he  would  be  content  that  England  should  never 
have  a  better,  provided  that  it  should  never  have  a  worse." 

Johnson. 

Those  who  are  solicitous  that  justice  should  be  done  to  the 
theological  knowledge  of  our  British  Solomon,  may  very  easily 
furnish  themselves  with  specimens  of  it  from  a  book  entitled,  Rex 
Platonicus,  sive  de  potentissimi  Principis  Jacobi  Britanniarum  Re- 
gis ad  illustrissimam  Academiam  Oxoniensem  adventu,  Aug.  27. 
Anno  1605.  In  this  performance  we  may  still  hear  him  reasoning 
in  Divinity,  Physick,  Jurisprudence,  and  Philosophy.  On  the 
second  of  these  subjects  he  has  not  failed  to  express  his  well- 
known  enmity  to  tobacco,  and  throws  out  many  a  royal  witticism 
on  the  "Medici  Nicotianistae,"  and  "  Tobacconists  "  of  the  age  ; 
insomuch,  that  Isaac  Wake,  the  chronicler  of  his  triumphs  at  Ox- 
ford, declares,  that  "  nemo  nisi  iniquissimus  rerum  estimator,  bo- 
nique  publici  pessime  invidus  Jacobo  nostro  recusabit  immortalem 
gloriae  aram  figere,  qui  ipse  adeo  mirabilem  in  Theologice,  Juris- 
prudentice,  et  Medicines  arcanis  peritiam  eamque  plane  divinitus 
assecutus  est,  ut,"  &c.     Steevens. 


262  KING  HENRY  V.  act  j. 

The  air,  a  charter'd  libertine,  is  still8, 

And  the  mute  wonder  lurketh  in  men's  ears, 

To  steal  his  sweet  and  honeyed  sentences ; 

So  that  the  art  and  practick  part  of  life 9 

Must  be  the  mistress  to  this  theorick ' : 

Which  is  a  wonder,  how  his  grace  should  glean  it, 

Since  his  addiction  was  to  courses  vain : 

His  companies 2  unletter'd,  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  popularity3. 


8  The  air,  &c]     This  line  is  exquisitely  beautiful.     Johnson. 
The  same  thought  occurs  in  As  You  Like  It,  Act  II.  Sc.  VII. : 

*'  «  I  must  have  liberty 

"  Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  tvind, 

"  To  blow  on  whom  I  please."     Malone. 

9  So  that  the  art  and  practick  part  of  life  — ]  He  discourses 
with  so  much  skill  on  all  subjects,  that  "  the  art  and  practice  of 
life  must  be  the  mistress  or  teacher  of  his  theorick  ;  "  that  is, 
'  that  his  theory  must  have  been  taught  by  art  and  practice ; ' 
which,  says  he,  is  strange,  since  he  could  see  little  of  the  true  art 
or  practice  among  his  loose  companions,  nor  ever  retired  to  digest 
his  practice  into  theory.  Art  is  used  by  the  author  for  practice, 
as  distinguished  from  science  or  theory.     Johnson. 

1  -r-to  this  theorick  :]  Theorick  is  what  terminates  in  spe- 
culation.    So,  in  The  Valiant  Welshman,  1615 : 

"  „  son  Caradoc, 

"  'Tis  yet  unfit  that,  on  this  sudden  warning, 

°  You  leave  your  fair  wife  to  the  theorique 

*'  Of  matrimonial  pleasure  and  delight." 
Bookish  theorick  is  mentioned  in  Othello.     Steevens. 
In  our  author's  time  this  word  was  always  used  where  we  now 
use  theory.     See  vol.  x.  p.  443,  n.  7.     Malone. 

2  —  companies  — ]  Is  here  used  for  companions.  It  is  used  by 
other  authors  of  Shakspeare's  age  in  the  same  sense.  See  vol.  v. 
p.  188,  n.  2.     Malone. 

3  —  popularity.]  i.  e.  plebeian  intercourse ;  an  unusual  sense 
of  the  word :  though  perhaps  the  same  idea  was  meant  to  be  com- 
municated by  it  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  where  King  Richard  II. 
is  represented  as  having 

"  Enfeoffd  himself  to  popularity."     Steevens. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  263 

Ely.    The    strawberry    grows   underneath  the 
nettle 4 ; 
And  wholesome  berries  thrive  and  ripen  best, 
Neighbour'd  by  fruit  of  baser  quality: 
And  so  the  prince  obscur'd  his  contemplation 
Under  the  veil  of  wildness ;  which,  no  doubt, 
Grew  like  the  summer  grass,  fastest  by  night, 
Unseen,  yet  crescive  in  his  faculty 5. 

Cant.  It  must  be  so  :  for  miracles  are  ceas'd ; 
And  therefore  we  must  needs  admit  the  means, 
How  things  are  perfected. 

Ely.  But,  my  good  lord, 

How  now  for  mitigation  of  this  bill 
Urg'd  by  the  commons  ?  Doth  his  majesty 
Incline  to  it,  or  no  ? 

Cant.  He  seems  indifferent ; 

Or,  rather,  swaying  more  upon  our  part 6, 
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 
Than  ever  at  one  time  the  clergy  yet 

4  The  strawberry,  &c]  i.  e.  the  wild  fruit  so  called,  that  grows 
in  the  woods.     Steevens. 

s  —  crescive  in  his  faculty.]     Increasing  in  its  proper  power. 

Johnson. 
"  Grew  like  the  summer  grass,  fastest  by  night 
*'  Unseen,  yet  crescive  in  his  faculty." 

Crescit  occulto  velut  arbor  gevo 
Fama  Marcelli. 
Crescive  is  a  word  used  by  Drant,  in  his  translation  of  Horace's 
Art  of  Poetry,  1567  : 

"  As  lusty  youths  of  crescive  age  doe  flourishe  freshe  and 
grow."     Steevens. 
6  —  swaying  more  upon  our  part,]  Swaying  is  inclining.    So, 
in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

"  Now  sways  it  this  way,  like  a  mighty  sea,— 
"  Now  sways  it  that  way."     Malone. 


264  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

Did  to  his  predecessors  part  withal. 

Ely.  How  did  this  offer  seem  receiv'd,  my  lord  ? 

Cant.  With  good  acceptance  of  his  majesty; 
Save,  that  there  was  not  time  enough  to  hear 
(As,  I  perceiv'd,  his  grace  would  fain  have  done,) 
The  severals,  and  unhidden  passages 7 
Of  his  true  titles  to  some  certain  dukedoms ; 
And,  generally,  to  the  crown  and  seat  of  France, 
Deriv'd  from  Edward,  his  great  grandfather. 

Ely.  What  was  the  impediment  that  broke  this 
off? 

Cant.  The  French  ambassador,  upon  that  instant, 
Crav'd  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'll  wait  upon  you  ;  and  I  long  to  hear  it. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

The  Same.     A  Room  of  State  in  the  Same. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Gloster,  Bedford,  Exeter, 
Warwick,  Westmoreland,  and  Attendants. 

K.  Hen.  Where  is  my  gracious  lord  of  Canter- 
bury ? 
Exe.  Not  here  in  presence. 
K.  Hen.  Send  for  him,  good  uncle 8, 

'  The  sevekals,  and  unhidden  passages,]  This  line  I  sus- 
pect of  corruption,  though  it  may  be  fairly  enough  explained  :  the 
passages  of  his  titles  are  the  lines  of  succession  by  which  his  claims 
descend.     Unhidden  is  open,  clear.     Johnson. 

I  believe  we  should  read  several,  instead  of  severals. 

M.  Mason. 

8  Send  for  him,  good  uncle.]     The  person  here  addressed  was 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  265 

West.    Shall   we   call   in  the   ambassador,  my 

liege 9  ? 
K.  Hen.  Not  yet,  my  cousin ;  we  would  be  re- 
solv'd, 
Before  we  hear  him,  of  some  things  of  weight, 
That  task '  our  thoughts,  concerning  us  and  France. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  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, 
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 2 


Thomas  Beaufort,  Earl  of  Dorset,  who  was  half-brother  to  King 
Henry  IV.  being  one  of  the  sons  of  John  of  Gaunt,  by  Katharine 
Swynford.  Shakspeare  is  a  little  too  early  in  giving  him  the  title 
of  Duke  of  Exeter ;  for  when  Harfleur  was  taken,  and  he  was  ap- 
pointed governour  of  the  town,  he  was  only  Earl  of  Dorset.  He 
was  not  made  Duke  of  Exeter  till  the  year  after  the  battle  of 
Agincourt,  Nov.  14,  1416.     Macone. 

Perhaps  Shakspeare  confounded  this  character  with  that  of  John 
Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  who  was  married  to  Elizabeth,  the  king's 
aunt.  He  was  executed  at  Plashey  in  1400  :  but  with  this  circum- 
stance our  author  might  have  been  unacquainted.  See  Remarks, 
&c.  on  the  last  edition  of  Shakspeare,  [i.  e.  that  of  1778,]  p.  239. 

Steevens. 

9  Shall  we  call  in,  &c]     Here  began  the  old  play.     Pope. 

1  —  task  — ]  Keep  busied  with  scruples  and  laborious  dis- 
quisitions.    Johnson. 

2  Or  nicely  charge  your  understanding  soul  — ]  Take  heed, 
lest  by  nice  and  subtle  sophistry  you  burthen  your  knowing  soul, 
Or  hwxvingli/  burthen  your  soul,  with  the  guilt  of  advancing  a 


266  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

With  opening  titles  miscreate  3,  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  4 
Of  what  your  reverence  shall  incite  us  to : 
Therefore  take  heed  how  you  impawn  our  person 5, 
How  you  awake  the  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  give  edge  unto   the 
swords 

false  title,  or  of  maintaining,  by  specious  fallacies,  a  claim  which, 
if  shown  in  its  native  and  true  colours,  would  appear  to  be  false. 

Johnson. 

3 — miscreate,]     Ill-begotten,  illegitimate,  spurious. 

Johnson. 

*  —  in  approbation  — ]  i.  e.  in  proving  and  supporting  that 
title  which  shall  be  now  set  up.  So,  in  Braithwaite's  Survey 
of  Histories,  1614- :  "  Composing  what  he  wrote,  not  by  report 
of  others,  but  by  the  approbation  of  his  own  eyes." 

Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale  : 

"  That  lack'd  sight  only ; — nought  for  approbation, 
"  But  only  seeing."     Malone. 

5  —take  heed  how  you  impawn  our  person,]     The  whole 
drift  of  the  king  is  to  impress  upon  the  archbishop  a  due  sense  of 
the  caution  with  which  he  is  to  speak.     He  tells  him  that  the 
crime  of  unjust  war,  if  the  war  be  unjust,  shall  rest  upon  him  : 
"  Therefore  take  heed  how  you  impawn  your  person." 

So,  I  think,  it  should  be  read,  Take  heed  hoto  you  pledge  your- 
self, your  honour,  your  happiness,  in  support  of  bad  advice. 

Dr.  Warburton  explains  impawn  by  engage,  and  so  escapes  the 
difficulty.     Johnson. 

The  allusion  here  is  to  the  game  of  chess,  and  the  disposition 
of  the  pawns  with  respect  to  the  King,  at  the  commencement  of 
this  mimetick  contest.     Henley. 

To  engage  and  to  pawn  were,  in  our  author's  time,  synony- 
mous. See  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  in  v.  engage.  But  the  word 
pawn,  had  not,  I  believe,  at  that  time,  its  present  signification. 
To  impawn  seems  here  to  have  the  same  meaning  as  the  French 
phrase  se  commeltre.    Malone. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  267 

That  make  such  waste  in  brief  mortality6. 
Under  this  conjuration 7,  speak,  my  lord  : 
And  we  will  hear,  note,  and  believe  in  heart, 
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  your  lives,  your  faith,  and  services  *, 
To  this  imperial  throne ; — There  is  no  bar 8 
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  gloze  9, 
To  be  the  realm  of  France,  and  Pharamond 
The  founder  of  this  law  and  female  bar. 
Yet  their  own  authors  faithfully  affirm, 

*  Folio,  Which  owe  yourselves,  your  lives,  and  services. 

6  — brief  mortality.] 

Nulla  brevem  dominum  sequetur.     Horace.     Steevens. 
?  Under   this   conjuration,]     The  quartos,   1600  and   1608, 
read : 

"  After  this  conjuration ."     Steevens. 

8  —  There  is  no  bar,  &c]  This  whole  speech  is  copied  (in  a 
manner  verbatim)  from  Hall's  Chronicle,  Henry  V.  year  the 
second,  folio  iv.  xx.  xxx.  xl.  &c.  In  the  first  edition  it  is  very 
imperfect,  and  the  whole  history  and  names  of  the  princes  are 
confounded ;  but  this  was  afterwards  set  right,  and  corrected 
from  the  original,  Hall's  Chronicle.     Pope. 

This  speech  (together  with  the  Latin  passage  in  it)  may  as 
well  be  said  to  be  taken  from  Holinshed  as  from  Hall.  Steevens. 

See  a  subsequent  note,  in  which  it  is  proved  that  Holinshed, 
and  not  Hall,  was  our  author's  historian.  The  same  facts,  in- 
deed, are  told  in  both,  Holinshed  being  a  servile  copyist  of  Hall ; 
but  Holinshed's  book  was  that  which  Shakspeare  read;  and 
therefore  I  always  quote  it  in  preference  to  the  elder  chronicle, 
contrary  to  the  rule  that  ought  in  general  to  be  observed. 

Malone. 

9  —  gloze,]  Expound,  explain,  and  sometimes  comment 
upon.     So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida: 

"  ■ you  have  said  well ; 

"  And  on  the  cause  and  question  now  in  hand, 
"  Have  gloz'd  but  superficially."     Reed. 


268  KING  HENRY  V.  act  j. 

That  the  land  Salique  lies  in  Germany, 
Between  the  floods  of  Sala  and  of  Elbe : 
Where  Charles  the  great,  having  subdued  the  Sax- 
ons, 
There  left  behind  and  settled  certain  French ; 
Who,  holding  in  disdain  the  German  women, 
For  some  dishonest  manners  of  their  life, 
Establish'd  there  this  law, — to  wit,  no  female 
Should  be  inheritrix  in  Salique  land ; 
Which  Salique,  as  I  said,  'twixt  Elbe  and  Sala, 
Is  at  this  day  in  Germany  call'd — Meisen. 
Thus  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  suppos'd  the  founder  of  this  law ; 
Who  died  within  the  year  of  our  redemption 
Four  hundred  twenty-six ;  and  Charles  the  great 
Subdued  the  Saxons,  and  did  seat  the  French 
Beyond  the  river  Sala,  in  the  year 
Eight  hundred  five.     Besides,  their  writers  say, 
King  Pepin,  which  deposed  Childerick, 
Did,  as  heir  general,  being  descended 
Of  Blithild,  which  was  daughter  to  king  Clothair, 
Make  claim  and  title  to  the  crown  of  France. 
Hugh  Capet  also, — that  usurp'd  the  crown 
Of  Charles  the  duke  of  Lorain,  sole  heir  male 
Of  the  true  line  and  stock  of  Charles  the  great, — 
To  fine  his  title  with  some  show  of  truth \ 


1  To  fine  his  title,  &c]     This  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto  of 
160S  ;  that  of  the  folio  is — "  To  Jind  his  title."     I  would  read  : 
"  To  line  his  title  with  some  show  of  truth." 
To  line  may  signify  at  once  to  decorate  and  to  strengthen.    So, 
in  Macbeth  : 

"  >  did  line  the  rebel 

"  With  hidden  help  and  vantage — ." 
Dr.  Warburton  says,  that  "  to  fine  his  title,"  is  to  refine  or  im- 
prove it.    The  reader  is  to  judge. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  269 

(Though,  in  pure  truth,  it  was  corrupt  and  naught,) 

Convey'd  himself2  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 3.  Also  king  Lewis  the  tenth  4, 

I  now  believe  that  find  is  right ;  the  jury  finds  for  the  plain- 
tiff, or  finds  for  the  defendant;  to  find  his  title  is,  "  to  determine 
in  favour  of  his  title  with  some  show  of  truth."     Johnson. 

To  fine  his  title,  is  to  make  it  showy  or  specious,  by  some  ap- 
pearance of  justice.     Steevens. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I. : 

"  To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion, 
"  With  some  fine  colour." 

The  words  in  Holinshed's  Chronicle  are :  "  —  to  make  his 
title  seem  true,  and  appear  good,  though  indeed  it  was  stark 
naught." — In  Hall,  "  to  make,  &c. — though  indeed  it  was  both 
evil  and  untrue."     Malone. 

1  believe  that  fine  is  the  right  reading,  and  that  the  metaphor 
is  taken  from  the  fining  of  liquors.  In  the  next  line  the  speaker 
says : 

"  Though  in  pure  truth  it  was  corrupt  and  naught." 
It  is  the  jury  that  finds  a  verdict,  not  the  plaintiff  or  defendant, 
and  therefore  a  man  cannot  find  his  own  title.     M.  Mason. 

2  Convey'd  himself — ]  Derived  his  title.  Our  poet  found 
this  expression  also  in  Holinshed.     Malone. 

3  — the  lady  Lingake, 

Daughter  to  Charlemain,  &c]  By  Charles  the  Great  is 
meant  the  Emperor  Charlemagne,  son  of  Pepin  :  Charlemain 
is  Charlechauve,  or  Charles  the  Bald,  who,  as  well  as  Charles  le 
Gros,  assumed  the  title  of  Magnus.  See  Goldasti  Animadversiones 
in  Einhardum.  Edit.  1711,  p.  157.  But  then  Charlechauve  had 
only  one  daughter,  named  Judith,  married,  or,  as  some  say,  only 
betrothed,  to  our  King  Ethelwulf,  and  carried  off,  after  his 
death,  by  Baldwin  the  forester,  afterward  Earl  of  Flanders,  whom, 
it  is  very  certain,  Hugh  Capet  was  neither  heir  to,  nor  any  way 
descended  from.  This  Judith,  indeed,  had  a  great-grand-daughter 
called  Luitgarde,  married  to  a  Count  Wichman,  of  whom  nothing 
further  is  known.  It  was  likewise  the  name  of  Charlemagne's  fifth 
wife;  but  no  such  female  as  Lingare  is  to  be  met  with  in  any  French 
historian.  In  fact,  these  fictitious  personages  and  pedigrees  seem 
to  have  been  devised  by  the  English  heralds,  to  "  fine  a  title 
with  some  show  of  truth,"  which,  "  in  pure  truth  was  corrupt  and 
naught."  It  was  manifestly  impossible  that  Henry,  who  had  no 
hereditary  title  to  his  own  dominions,  could  derive  one,  by  the 
same  colour,  to  another  person's.     He  merely  proposes  the  inva- 


270  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

Who  was  sole  heir  to  the  usurper  Capet, 

Could  not  keep  quiet  in  his  conscience, 

Wearing  the  crown  of  France,  till  satisfied 

That  fair  queen  Isabel,  his  grandmother, 

Was  lineal  of  the  lady  Ermengare, 

Daughter  to  Charles  the  foresaid  duke  of  Lorain : 

By  the  which  marriage,  the  line  of  Charles  the  great 

Was-reunited  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 5,  all  appear 

sion  and  conquest  of  France,  in  prosecution  of  the  dying  advice  of 
his  father  : 

"  ■ '  to  busy  giddy  minds 

"  In  foreign  quarrels  ;  that  action,  thence  bome  out, 
"  Might  waste  the  memory  of  former  days  :  " 
that  his  subjects  might  have  sufficient  employment  to  mislead 
their  attention  from  the  nakedness  of  his  title  to  the  crown.     The 
zeal  and  eloquence  of  the  Archbishop  are  owing  to  similar  mo- 
tives.    Ritson. 

4  —Also  king  Lewis  the  tenth,]  The  word  ninth  has  been 
inserted  by  some  of  the  modern  editors.  The  old  copies  read 
tenth.  Ninth  is  certainly  wrong,  and  tenth  certainly  right. 
Isabel  was  the  wife  of  Philip  the  second,  father  of  Lewis  the 
ninth,  and  grandfather  of  Lewis  the  tenth.     Ritson. 

" — Lewis  the  tenth."  This  is  a  mistake,  (as  is  observed  in 
The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  liii.  Part  II.  p.  588,)  into  which 
Shakspeare  was  led  by  Holinshed,  (vol.  ii.  p.  546,  edit.  1577), 
whom  he  copied.  St.  Lewis,  (for  he  is  the  person  here  described,) 
the  grandson  of  Queen  Isabel,  the  wife  of  Philip  II.  King  of 
France,  was  Lewis  the  Ninth.  He  was  the  son  of  Lewis  VIII. 
by  the  Lady  Blanch  of  Castile.  In  Hall's  Chronicle,  Henry  V. 
folio  iiii.  b.  (which  Holinshed  has  closely  followed,  except  in 
this  particular  error,  occasioned  by  either  his  own  or  his  printer's 
inaccuracy,)  Lewis  is  rightly  called  the  Ninth.  Here  therefore 
we  have  a  decisive  proof  that  our  author's  guide  in  all  his  histo- 
rical plays  was  Holinshed,  and  not  Hall.  See  n.  8,  p.  267.  I 
have  however  left  the  error  uncorrected,  on  the  same  principle 
on  which  similar  errors  in  Julius  Caesar,  into  which  Shakspeare 
was  led  by  the  old  translation  of  Plutarch,  have  been  suffered  to 
remain  undisturbed ;  and  also,  because  it  ascertains  a  fact  of 
some  importance.     Malonk. 

5  King  Lewis  his  satisfaction,]     He  had  told  us  just  above, 


sc.  it.  KING  HENRY  V.  271 

To  hold  in  right  and  title  of  the  female : 
So  do  the  kings  of  France  unto  this  day ; 
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  imbare  their  crooked  titles  6 


that  Lewis  could  not  wear  the  crown  with  a  safe  conscience, 
"  till  satisfied"  &c.     Theobald. 

6  —  imbare  their  crooked  titles  — ]     Mr.  Pope  reads : 

"  Than  openly  imbrace ," 

But  where  is  the  antithesis  betwixt  hide  in  the  preceding  line, 
and  imbrace  in  this  ?    The  two  old  folios  read  : 
"  Than  amply  to  imbarre-        ■." 
We  certainly  must  read,  as  Mr.  Warburton  advised  me : 

'*  Than  amply  to  imbare "" 

lay  open,  display  to  view.  I  am  surprized  Mr.  Pope  did  not 
start  this  conjecture,  as  Mr.  Rowe  had  led  the  way  to  it  in  his 
edition  ;  who  reads  : 

"  Than  amply  to  make  bare  their  crooked  titles." 

Theobald. 
Mr.  Theobald  might  have   found,  in  the  4to.  of  1608,  this 
reading  : 

"  Than  amply  to  embrace  their  crooked  causes;  " 
out  of  which  line  Mr.  Pope  formed  his  reading,  erroneous  in- 
deed, but  not  merely  capricious.     Johnson. 
The  quarto,  1600,  reads — imbace. 

I  have  met  with  no  example  of  the  word — imbare.  To  unbar 
is  to  open,  and  might  have  been  the  word  set  down  by  the  poet, 
in  opposition  to — bar. 

So,  in  the  first  scene  of  Timon,  the  poet  says,  *'  I'll  unbolt  to 
you." 

To  embar,  however,  seems,  from  the  following  passage  in  the 
first  book  of  Stanyhurst's  translation  of  Virgil,  1583,  to  signify  to 
break  or  cut  off  abruptly  : 

"  Heere  Venus  embarring  his  tale,"  &c. 
Yet,  as  to  bar,  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  is  to  strengthen, — 

" that  is  stronger  made, 

"  Which  was  before  barr'd  up  with  ribs  of  iron — ," 
so,  amply  to  unbar,  may  mean  to  "weaken  by  an  open  display  of 
invalidity. 

As  imbare,  however,  is  not  unintelligible,  and  is  defended  by 

the  following  ablecriticks,  I  have  left  it  in  the  text.     Steevens. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  imbare  is  the  right  reading.     Though  the 

editor  who  has  adopted  it  seems  to  argue  against  it,  it  makes 

the  sense  more  clear  than  any  of  the  other  readings  proposed. 


272  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

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  son  dies,  let  the  inheritance 
Descend  unto  the  daughter.     Gracious  lord, 
Stand  for  your  own  ;  unwind  your  bloody  flag ; 
Look  back  unto  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 ; 
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 7. 
O  noble  English,  that  could  entertain 
With  half  their  forces  the  full  pride  -j-  of  France ; 

*  Quarto,  grave.  f  Quarto,  power. 

Imbare,  in  the  last  line,  is  naturally  opposed  to  hide  in  that  which 
precedes,  and  it  differs  but  little  from  the  reading  of  the  quarto 
1600.  The  objection  that  there  is  no  such  word  as  imbare,  can 
have  but  little  weight.  It  is  a  word  so  fairly  deduced,  and  so 
easily  understood,  that  an  author  of  much  less  celebrity  than 
Shakspeare,  had  a  right  to  coin  it.     M.  Mason. 

In  the  folio  the  word  is  spelt  imbarre.  Imbare  is,  I  believe, 
the  true  reading.  It  is  formed  like  impaint,  impawn,  and  many 
other  similar  words  used  by  Shakspeare.     Malone. 

7  Whiles  his  most  mighty  father  on  a  hill 
Stood  smiling,  &c]  This  alludes  to  the  battle  of  Cressy,  as 
described  by  Holinshed :  "  The  earle  of  Northampton  and  others 
sent  to  the  king,  where  he  stood  aloft  on  a  windmill-hill;  the  king 
demanded  if  his  sonne  were  slaine,  hurt,  or  felled  to  the  earth. 
No,  said  the  knight  that  brought  the  message,  but  he  is  sore 
matched.  Well,  (said  the  king,)  returne  to  him  and  them  that 
sent  you,  and  saie  to  them,  that  they  send  no  more  to  me  for  any 
adventure  that  falleth,  so  long  as  my  son  is  alive  ;  for  I  will  that 
this  journeye  be  his,  with  the  honour  thereof.  The  slaughter  of 
the  French  was  great  and  lamentable  at  the  same  battle,  fought 
the  26th  August,  1346."     Holinshed,  vol.  ii.  p.  372,  col.  i. 

BoWLE. 


sc.  //.  KING  HENRY  V.  273 

And  let  another  half  stand  laughing  by, 
All  out  of  work,  and  cold  for  action 8 ! 

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, 
Ripe  for  exploits  and  mighty  enterprizes. 

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  9 ;  never  king  of  England 


8  —  and  cold  for  action !]  i>  e.  cold  for  toant  of  action.  So 
Lyly,  in  Euphues  and  his  England,  1581  :  "  —  if  he  were  too 
long  for  the  bed,  Procrustes  cut  off  his  legs,  for  catching  cold, 
i.  e.  for  fear  of  catching  cold.     Malone. 

I  always  regarded  the  epithet  cold  as  too  clear  to  need  expla- 
nation. The  soldiers  were  eager  to  tvarm  themselves  by  action, 
and  were  cold  for  want  of  it.  A  more  recondite  meaning,  indeed, 
may  be  found  ;  a  meaning  which  will  be  best  illustrated  by  a  line 
in  Statius,  Theb.  vi.  395  : 

Concurrit  summos  animosumjrigus  in  artus.     Steevens. 

9  They  know,  your  grace  hath  cause,  and  means,  and  might ; 
So  hath  your  highness  ;]     We  should  read  : 

" your  race  had  cause," 

which  is  carrying  on  the  sense  of  the  concluding  words  of  Exeter: 

"  As  did  the  former  lions  of  your  blood  ;  " 
meaning  Edward  III.  and  the  Black  Prince.     Warburton. 

I  do  not  see  but  the  present  reading  may  stand  as  I  have  pointed 
it.     Johnson. 

Warburton's  amendment  is  unnecessaiy ;  but  surely  we  should 
point  the  passage  thus  : 

"  They  know  your  grace  hath  cause  ;  and  means,  and  might, 
"  So  hath  your  highness  ;  " 
Meaning  that  the  king  had  not  only  a  good  cause,  but  force  to 
support  it.     So,  in  this  place,  has  the  force  of  also,  or  likewise. 

M.  Mason. 

VOL.  XVII.  T 


274  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

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, 
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 2,  gracious  sove- 
reign, 
Shall  be  a  wall  sufficient  to  defend 
Our  inland  from  the  pilfering  borderers. 
K.  Hen.  We  do  not  mean  the  coursing  snatchers* 
only, 
But  fear  the  main  intendment  of  the  Scot 3, 

*  Quarto,  sneakers. 

"  So  hath  your  highness."  i.  e.  your  highness  hath  indeed 
what  they  think  and  know  you  have.     Malone. 

1  With  blood,  &c]  Old  copy — bloods.  Corrected  in  the 
third  folio.     Malone. 

This  and  the  foregoing  line  Dr.  Warburton  gives  to  Westmore- 
land, but  with  so  little  reason  that  I  have  continued  them  to  Can- 
terbury. The  credit  of  old  copies,  though  not  great,  is  yet  more 
than  nothing.     Johnson. 

2  They  of  those  marches,]  The  marches  are  the  borders,  the 
limits,  the  confines.  Hence  the  Lords  Marchers,  i.  e.  the  lords 
presidents  of  the  marches,  &c.  So,  in  the  first  canto  of  Drayton's 
Barons'  Wars : 

"  When  now  the  marchers  well  upon  their  way,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

3  —  the  main  intendment  of  the  Scot,]  Intendment  is  here 
perhaps  used  for  intention,  which,  in  our  author's  time,  signified 
extreme  exertion.  The  main  intendment  may,  however,  mean,  the 
general  disposition.     Malone. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  275 

Who  hath  been  still  a  giddy  neighbour4  to  us ; 
For  you  shall  read,  that  my  great  grandfather 
Never  went  with  his  forces  into  France 5, 
But  that  the  Scot  on  his  unfurnish'd  kingdom 
Came  pouring,  like  the  tide  into  a  breach, 
With  ample  and  brim  fulness  of  his  force ; 
Galling  the  gleaned  land  with  hot  essays  ; 
Girding  with  grievous  siege,  castles  and  towns ; 
That  England,  being  empty  of  defence, 
Hath  shook,  and  trembled  at  the  bruit  thereof  *. 
Cant.    She   hath  been  then  more  fear'd 6  than 
harm'd,  my  liege : 

*  Folio,  at  the  ill  neighbourhood. 

Main  intendment,  I  believe,  signifies — exertion  in  a  body.  The 
king  opposes  it  to  the  less  consequential  inroads  of  detached 
parties.     Steevens. 

4  —  giddy  neighbour  — ]     That  is,  inconstant,  changeable. 

Johnson. 

5  Never  went  with  his  forces  into  France,]  The  quartos,  1600 
and  1608,  read: 

" never  my  great  grandfather 

"  Unmask'd  his  power  for  France — ." 
What  an  opinion  the  Scots  entertained  of  the  defenceless  state 
of  England,  may  be  known  by  the  following  passage  from  The 
Battle  of  Floddon,  an  ancient  historical  poem  : 
"  For  England's  king,  you  understand, 

"  To  France  is  past  with  all  his  peers  : 
"  There  is  none  at  home  left  in  the  land, 

"  But  joult-head  monks,  and  bursten  freers. 
"  Of  ragged  rusties,  without  rules, 

"  Of  priests  prating  for  pudding  shives ; 
"  Of  milners  madder  than  their  mules, 
"  Of  wanton  clerks,  waking  their  wives." 
Thus  also  in  Wyntown's  Cronykil,  b.  viii.  ch.  xl.  v.  96 : 
M  Thai  sayd,  that  thai  mycht  rycht  welle  fare 
"  Til  Lwndyn,  for  in  Ingland  than 
"  Of  gret  mycht  wes  left  na  man, 
"  For,  thai  sayd,  all  war  in  Frawns, 
"  Bot  sowteris,  skynneris,  or  marchauns."     Steevens. 

6  —  fear'd — ]     i.  e.  frightened.     Malone. 
So,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 

"  Setting  it  up  tojear  the  birds  of  prey."     Steevens. 
T  2 


276  KING  HENRY  V.  act  j. 

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, 

The  king  of  Scots ;  whom  she  did  send  to  France  *, 

To  fill  king  Edward's  fame  with  prisoner  kings ; 

And  make  your  chronicle  as  rich  with  praise 8, 

As  is  the  ooze  and  bottom  of  the  sea 

With  sunken  wreck  and  sumless  treasuries  9. 

West.  But  there's  a  saying,  very  old  and  true  l, — 
If  that  you  will  France  win, 
Then  with  Scotland  first  begin 2 : 

*  Quarto,   Whom  like  a  caytiffe  she  did  leade  to  France. 

8  And  make  your  chronicle  as  rich  with  praise,  &c]  The 
similitude  between  the  chronicle  and  the  sea  consists  only  in  this, 
that  they  are  both  full,  and  filled  with  something  valuable.  The 
quarto  has  your,  the  folio  their  chronicle. 

Your  and  their,  written  by  contraction  yr,  are  just  alike,  and 
her,  in  the  old  hands,  is  not  much  unlike  yr.  I  believe  we  should 
read  her  chronicle.     Johnson. 

Your  chronicle  means,  I  think,  the  chronicle  of  your  kingdom, 
England.     Malone. 

9  — and  sumless  treasuries.]  The  quartos,  1600  and  1603, 
read  : 

"  *         and  shipless  treasury."     Steevens. 

1  West.  But  there's  a  saying,  &c]  This  speech,  which  is  dis- 
suasive of  war  with  France,  is  absurdly  given  to  one  of  the  church- 
men in  confederacy  to  push  the  king  upon  it,  as  appears  by  the 
first  scene  of  this  Act.  Besides,  the  poet  had  here  an  eye  to  Hall, 
who  gives  this  observation  to  the  Duke  of  Exeter.  But  the  editors 
have  made  Ely  and  Exeter  change  sides,  and  speak  one  another's 
speeches :  for  this,  which  is  given  to  Ely,  is  Exeter's ;  and  the 
following  given  to  Exeter,  is  Ely's.     Warburton. 

This  speech  is  given  in  the  folio  to  the  Bishop  of  Ely.  But  it 
appears  from  Holinshed,  (whom  our  author  followed,)  and  from 
Hall,  that  these  words  were  the  conclusion  of  the  Earl  of  West- 
moreland's speech  ;  to  whom,  therefore,  I  have  assigned  them. 
In  the  quarto  Lord  only  is  prefixed  to  this  speech.  Dr.  Warbur- 
ton and  the  subsequent  editors  attributed  it  to  Exeter,  but  cer- 
tainly without  propriety;  for  he,  on  the  other  hand,  maintained 
that  "  he  whiche  would  Scotland  winne,  with  France  must  first 
beginne."     Malone. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  277 

For  once  the  eagle  England  being  in  prey, 

To  her  unguarded  nest  the  weasel  Scot 

Comes  sneaking,  and  so  sucks  her  princely  eggs  ; 

Playing  the  mouse  in  absence  of  the  cat, 

To  spoil  and  havock  more  than  she  can  eat 3. 

Exe.  It  follows  then,  the  cat  must  stay  at  home : 
Yet  that  is  but  a  curs'd  necessity 4 : 

4  If  that  you  mil  France  xvin,  &c]  Hall's  Chronicle,  Hen.  V. 
year  2,  fol.  7,  (p.  2,)  x.     Pope. 

It  is  likewise  found  in  Holinshed,  and  in  the  old  anonymous 
play  of  King  Henry  V.     Steevens. 

3  To  spoil  and  havock  more  than  she  can  eat.]  It  is  not  much 
the  quality  of  the  mouse  to  tear  the  food  it  comes  at,  but  to  run 
over  it  and  defile  it.  The  old  quarto  reads,  spoile  ;  and  the  two 
first  folios,  tame :  'from  which  last  corrupted  word,  I  think,  I  have 
retrieved  the  poet's  genuine  reading,  taint.    Theobald. 

*  Yet  that  is  but  a  curs'd  necessity ;]  So,  the  old  quarto 
[1600].  The  folios  read  crush' d :  neither  of  the  words  convey 
any  tolerable  idea ;  but  give  us  a  counter-reasoning,  and  not  at 
all  pertinent.  We  should  read — "  'scus'd  necessity."  It  is 
Exeter's  business  to  show  there  is  no  real  necessity  for  staying  at 
home  :  he  must  therefore  mean,  that  though  there  be  a  seeming 
necessity,  yet  it  is  one  that  may  be  well  excus'd  and  got  over, 

Warburton. 

Neither  the  old  readings  nor  the  emendation  seem  very  satis- 
factory. "  A  curs'd  necessity  "  has  no  sense  ;  "  a  'scus'd  neces- 
sity "  is  so  harsh  that  one  would  not  admit  it,  if  any  thing  else 
can  be  found.  "  A  crush'd  necessity  "  may  mean  '  a  necessity 
which  is  subdued  and  overpowered  by  contrary  reasons.'  We 
might  read — "  a  crude  necessity,"  a  necessity  not  complete,  or  not 
well  considered  and  digested ;  but  it  is  too  harsh. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads : 

"  Yet  that  is  not  o'  course  a  necessity."     Johnson. 

"  A  curs'd  necessity  "  means,  I  believe,  only  an  unfortunate 
necessity.     Curs'd,  in  colloquial   phrase,  signifies  any  thing  un- 
fortunate.    So  we  say,  such  a  one  leads  a  cursed  life  ;  another 
has  got  into  a  cursed  scrape.     It  may  mean,  a  necessity  to  he 
execrated. 

This  vulgarism  is  often  used  by  Sir  Arthur  Gorges,   in  his 
translation  of  Lucan,  1614.     So,  book  vii.  p.  293  : 
"  His  cursed  fortune  he  condemned." 

Again,  p.  297 : 

" on  the  cruel  destinies 

'•  The  people  pour  out  cursed  cries." 


278  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

Since  we  have  locks  to  safeguard  necessaries, 
And  pretty  traps 5  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  lower6, 
Put  into  parts,  doth  keep  in  one  concent 7 ; 


Again,  in  Chapman's  translation  of  the  5th  Odyssey  : 

" while  thus  discourse  he  held, 

"  A  curs 'd  surge  'gainst  a  cutting  rock  impell'd 
"  His  naked  body."     Steevens. 
Mr.  M.  Mason  justly  observes  that  this  interpretation,  though 
perhaps   the  true  one,  does  not  agree  with  the  context ;  [Yet 
that  is  but  an  unfortunate  necessity,  since  we,  &c]  and  therefore 
proposes  to  read —  * 

"  Yet  that  is  not  a  curs'd  necessity." 
But  and  not  are  so  often  confounded  in  these  plays,  that  I  think 
his  conjecture  extremely  probable.     See  vol.  xiv.  p.  92,  n.  5.     It 
is  certainly  (as  Dr.  Warburton  has  observed)   the  speaker's  busi- 
ness to  show  that  there  is  no  real  necessity  for  staying  at  home. 

Malone. 

5  And  pretty  traps — ]  Thus  the  old  copy  ;  but  I  believe  we 
should  read  petty. 

Pretty,  however,  is  a  term  colloquially  employed  by  our  author 
in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

" my  daughter's  of  a  pretty  age."     Steevens. 

6  For  government,  though  high,  and  low,  and  lower,] 
The  foundation  and  expression  of  this  thought  seems  to  be  bor- 
rowed from  Cicero,  De  Republica,  lib.  ii. :  "  Sic  ex  summis,  et 
mediis,  et  hifimis  interjectis  ordinibus,  ut  sonis,  moderatam  ratione 
civitatem,  consensu  dissimiliorum  concinere ;  et  quae  hnrmonia  a 
musicis  dicitur  in  cantu,  earn  esse  in  civitate  concordiam." 

Theobald. 
1  —  in  one  concent  ;]  I  learn  from  Dr.  Burney,  that  consent 
is  connected  harmony,  in  general,  and  not  confined  to  any  spe- 
cific consonance.  "  Thus,  (says  the  same  elegant  and  well-in- 
formed writer,)  concentio  and  concentus  are  both  used  by  Cicero 
for  the  union  of  voices  or  instruments  in  what  we  should  now  call 
a  chorus,  or  concert. 

In  the  same  sense  I  suppose  Ben  Jonson  to  have  used  the  word 
in  his  Volpone,  Act  III.  Sc.  IV. : 

"  — —  as  Plato  holds,  your  music 
M  (And  so  does  wise  Pythagoras,  I  take  it) 
"  Is  your  true  rapture,  when  there  is  consent 
f4  In  face,  in  voice,"  &c.     Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  279 

Congruing  8  in  a  full  and  natural  close, 
Like  ihusick. 

Cant.  True :  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 9 :  for  so  work  the  honey  bees ; 
Creatures,  that,  by  a  rule  in  nature,  teach 
The  act  of  order '  to  a  peopled  kingdom. 
They  have  a  king 2,  and  officers  of  sorts 3  : 


8  Congruing — ]  The  folio  has  congreeing.  The  quarto  con- 
grueth.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 

In  the  old  quarto,  1 608,  the  passage  stands  thus  : 

"  For  government,  though  high  or  low,  being  put  into  parts, 
"  Congrueth  with  a  mutuall  consent  like  musicke." 

Steevens. 

9  Setting  endeavour  in  continual  motion  ; 
To  which  is  fixed,  as  an  aim  or  butt, 

Obedience :]  Neither  the  sense  nor  the  construction  of  this 
passage  is  very  obvious.  The  construction  is,  '  endeavour, — as 
an  aim  or  butt  to  which  endeavour,  obedience  is  fixed.'  The  sense 
is,  '  that  all  endeavour  is  to  terminate  in  obedience,  to  be  subor- 
dinate to  the  publick  good  and  general  design  of  government.' 

Johnson. 

1  The  act  of  order  — ]  Act  here  means  larv,  or  statute;  as  ap- 
pears from  the  old  quarto,  where  the  words  are,  "  Creatures  that 
by  awe  ordain  an  act  of  order  to  a  peopled  kingdom." 

Mr.  Pope  changed  act  to  art,  and  was  followed  by  all  the  sub- 
sequent editors.     Malone. 

2  —  for  so  work  the  honey  bees  ; 

They  have  a  king,  &c]  Our  author,  in  this  parallel,  had,  I 
have  no  doubt,  the  following  passage,  in  Lyly's  Euphues  and  his 
England,  1580,  in  view:  "  In  like  manner,  Euphues,  is  the  go- 
vernment of  a  monarchie, — that  it  is  neither  the  wise  foxe  nor  the 
malicious  woolfe,  should  venture  so  farre,  as  to  learne  whether 
the  lyon  sleepe  or  wake  in  his  denne,  whether  the  prince  fast  or 
feast  in  the  court ;  but  this  should  be  their  order, — to  understand 
there  is  a  king,  but  what  he  doth,  is  for  the  gods  to  examine, 
whose  ordinance  he  is,  not  for  men  whose  overseer  he  is.  Then 
how  vain  is  it, — that  the  foot  should  neglect  his  office,  to  correct 
the  face ;  or  that  subjects  should  seeke  more  to  know  what  their 
princes  doe,  than  what  they  are ;  wherein  they  shew  themselves  as 
bad  as  beasts,  and  much  worse  than  my  bees,  who,  in  my  conceit, 


280  KING  HENRY  V.  actj. 

Where  some,  like  magistrates,  correct  at  home ; 
Others,  like  merchants,  venture  trade  abroad  4 ; 


observe  more  order  than  they.  If  I  might  crave  pardon,  I  would 
a  little  acquaint  you  with  the  commonwealth  of  my  bees. — I  have 
for  the  space  of  these  twenty  yeeres  dwelt  in  this  place,  taking  no 
delight  in  any  thing  but  only  keeping  my  bees,  and  marking  them  ; 
and  this  I  find,  which  had  I  not  seen  I  should  hardly  have  be- 
lieved, that  they  use  as  great  wit  by  induction,  and  art  by  work- 
manship, as  ever  man  hath  or  can  ;  using  between  themselves  no 
lesse  justice  than  wisdome,  and  yet  not  so  much  wisdome  as  ma- 
jestie  ;  insomuch  as  thou  wouldest  thinke  that  they  were  a  kind  of 
•people,  a  commonwealth  of  Plato ;  where  they  all  labour,  all  gather 
hony,  flie  together  in  a  swarme,  eat  in  a  swarme,  and  sleepe  in  a 
swarme.  They  live  under  a  law,  using  great  reverence  to  their 
elder  as  to  the  wiser.  They  choose  a  king,  whose  palace  they 
frame,  both  braver  in  shew,  and  stronger  in  substance. — If  then- 
prince  die,  they  know  not  how  to  live  ;  they  languish,  weepe,  sigh, 
neither  intending  their  worke,  nor  keeping  their  old  society. 
And  that  which  is  most  marvellous  and  almost  incredible,  if  there 
be  any  that  hath  disobeyed  his  commandment,  either  of  purpose  or 
unwitting,  he  killeth  himself  with  his  own  sting,  as  an  executioner 
to  his  own  stubbornnesse.  The  king  himselfe  hath  a  sting,  which 
he  useth  rather  for  honour  than  punishment.  And  yet,  Euphues, 
albeit  they  live  under  a  prince,  they  have  their  priviledges,  and  as 
great  liberties  as  strait  lawes.  They  call  a  parliament,  wherein 
they  consult  for  lawes,  statutes,  penalties,  choosing  officers,  and 
creating  their  king. — Every  one  hath  his  office  ;  some  trimming  the 
honey,  some  working  the  wax,  one  framing  hives,  another  the 
combes;  and  that  so  artificially,  that  Dedalus  could  not  with 
greater  art  or  excellency  better  dispose  the  orders,  measures,  pro- 
portions, distinctions,  joints,  and  circles.  Diverse  hew,  others 
polish,  and  are  careful  to  do  their  worke  so  strongly  as  they  may 
resist  the  craft  of  such  drones  as  seek  to  live  by  their  labours ; 
which  maketh  them  to  keepe  watch  and  ward,  as  living  in  a  camp 
to  others,  and  as  in  a  court  to  themselves. —  When  they  goe forth  to 
worke,  they  marke  the  winde,  the  clouds,  and  whatsoever  doth 
threaten  either  their  ruin  or  rage ;  and  having  gathered  out  of 
every  flower  hony,  they  return,  loaded  in  their  mouthes,  thighes, 
winges,  and  all  the  body  ;  whom  they  that  tarried  at  home  receive 
readily,  as  easing  their  backs  of  so  great  burthens.  The  king  him- 
selfe, not  idle,  goeth  up  and  down,  intreating,  threatening,  com- 
manding ;  using  the  counsel  of  a  sequell,  but  not  losing  the  dig- 
nity of  a  prince  ;  preferring  those  that  labour  in  greater  authority, 
and  punishing  those  that  loiter  with  due  severity ." — "  The  common- 
wealth of  your  bees  [replied  Euphues]  did  so  delight  me,   that  I 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  281 

Others,  like  soldiers,  armed  in  their  stings, 
Make  boot  upon  the  summers  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 b  building  roofs  of  gold  ; 
The  civil 6  citizens  kneading  up  the  honey 7 ; 
The  poor  mechanick  porters  crouding  in 
Their  heavy  burdens  at  his  narrow  gate  ; 
The  sad-ey'd  justice,  with  his  surly  hum, 
Delivering  up  to  executors 8  pale 

was  not  a  little  sorry,  that  either  their  estates  have  not  been 
longer,  or  your  leisure  more;  for  in  my  simple  judgment,  there 
was  such  an  orderly  government  that  men  may  not  be  ashamed  to 
imitate  them."     Malone. 

3  —  and  officers  of  sorts  :]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto  reads 
— sort ;  i.  e.  high  rank.  See  vol.  vii.  p.  7,  n.  7 ;  and  vol.  ix. 
p.  171,  n.  2.     Malone. 

"  Officers  of  sorts  "  means  •  officers  of  different  degrees.'  In  a 
London  haberdasher's  bill  to  his  customer  in  the  country,  I  lately 
saw  the  following  charge:  "To  thread  of  sorts';  "  i.  e.  of  different 
kinds.     Steevens. 

In  confirmation  of  Mr.  Steevens's  opinion  it  may  be  observed, 
that  in  A  True  Relation  of  the  Admirable  Voyage  and  Travel  of 
William  Bush,  &c.  4to.  1607,  we  have  "  —  drummes  and  sortes 
of  musicke."     Reed. 

4  —  venture  trade  abroad  ;]  To  venture  trade  is  a  phrase  of 
the  same  import  and  structure  as  to  hazard  battle.     Johnson. 

5  The  singing  masons — ]  Our  author  probably  had  here  two 
images  in  his  thoughts.  The  hum  of  a  bee  is  obvious.  I  believe 
he  was  also  thinking  of  a  common  practice  among  masons,  who, 
like  many  other  artificers,  frequently  sing  while  at  work  :  a  prac- 
tice that  could  not  have  escaped  his  observation.     Malone. 

6  —  civil  — ]  i.  e.  sober,  grave.  So,  in  Twelfth  Night : 
"  Where  is  Malvolio?  he  is  sad  and  civil."  See  vol.  xi.  p.  448, 
n.  3.     Steevens. 

7  —  kneading  up  the  honey  ;]  To  knead  the  honey  gives  an 
easy  sense,  though  not  physically  true.  The  bees  do,  in  fact, 
knead  the  wax  more  than  the  honey,  but  that  Shakspeare  perhaps 
did  not  know.     Johnson. 

The  old  quartos  read — "  lading  up  the  honey."     Steevens. 

8  —  to  executors  — ]     Executors  is  here  used  for  executioners. 

Malone. 


282  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

The  lazy  yawning  drone.     I  this  infer, — 

That  many  things,  having  full  reference 

To  one  concent,  may  work  contrariously; 

As  many  arrows,  loosed  several  ways, 

Fly  to  one  mark; 

As  many  several  ways  meet  in  one  town ; 

As  many  fresh  streams  run  in  one  self  sea ; 

As  many  lines  close  in  the  dial's  center ; 

So  may  a  thousand  actions,  once  afoot, 

End  in  one  purpose,  and  be  all  well  borne 

Without  defeat 9.     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  that  power  left  at  home, 

Cannot  defend  our  own  door  from  the  dog, 

Let  us  be  worried ;  and  our  nation  lose 

The  name  of  hardiness,  and  policy. 

K.  Hen.  Call  in  the  messengers  sent  from  the 
Dauphin. 
[Exit  an  Attendant.     The  King  ascends  his 
Throne. 
Now  are  we  well  resolv'd  :  and, — by  God's  help  ; 
And  yours,  the  noble  sinews  of  our  power, — 
France  being  ours,  we'll  bend  it  to  our  awe, 
Or  break  it  all  to  pieces  :  Or  there  we'll  sit, 
Ruling  in  large  and  ample  empery l, 
O'er  France,  and  all  her  almost  kingly  dukedoms ; 
Or  lay  these  bones  in  an  unworthy  urn, 

It  is  so  used  by  other  authors.     Thus,  Burton,  in  the  preface  to 
his  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  p.  38,  edit.  1632  : 

" tremble  at  an  executor,  and  yet  not  feare  hell-fire." 

Steevens. 
9  Without  defeat.]     The  quartos  1600  and  1608  read  : 

"  Without  defect."     Steevens. 
1  —  empery,]     This  word,  which  signifies  dominion,  is  now  ob- 
solete, though  formerly  in  general  use.     So,  in  Claudius  Tiberius 
Nero,  1607  : 

"  Within  the  circuit  of  our  empery"     Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  283 

Tombless,  with  no  remembrance  over  them  : 
Either  our  history  shall,  with  full  mouth, 
Speak  freely  of  our  acts;  or  else  our  grave, 
Like  Turkish  mute,  shall  have  a  tongueless  mouth, 
Not  worship'd  with  a  paper  epitaph 2. 

2  —  with  a  paper  epitaph.]  This  is  the  reading  of  the  quartos, 
adopted  by  Mr.  Malone.  Mr.  Steevens  reads  with  the  folio— 
waxen. 

Either  a  waxen  or  a  paper  epitaph  is  an  epitaph  easily  obliter- 
ated or  destroyed ;  one  which  can  confer  no  lasting  honour  on  the 
dead. 

To  the  ancient  practice  of  writing  on  ivaxen  tablets  Shakspeare 
again  alludes  in  the  first  scene  of  Timon  of  Athens  : 

" but  moves  itself 

"  In  a  wide  sea  of  wax." 

See  notes  on  this  passage. 

Thus  also,  in  G.  Whetstone's  Garden  of  Unthriftiness,  1576 : 
"  In  waxe,  say  I,  men  easily  grave  their  will ; 

"  In  marble  stone  the  worke  with  paine  is  wonne  : 
"  But  perfect  once,  the  print  remaineth  still, 

"  When  waxen  seales  by  every  browse  are  donne." 

Steevens. 

The  second  reading  is  more  unintelligible,  to  me  at  least,  than 
the  other :  a  grave  not  dignified  with  the  slightest  memorial. 

Johnson. 

I  think  this  passage  has  been  misunderstood.  Henry  says,  "  he 
will  either  rule  with  full  dominion  in  France,  or  die  in  the  at- 
tempt, and  lay  his  bones  in  a  paltry  urn,  without  a  tomb,  or  any 
remembrance  over  him."  With  a  view  to  the  alternative  that  he 
has  just  stated,  he  adds,  by  way  of  apposition  and  illustration, 
"  either  the  English  Chronicles  shall  speak,  trumpet-tongued,  to 
the  world,  of  my  victories  in  France,  or,  being  defeated  there,  my 
death  shall  scarcely  be  mentioned  in  history;  shall  not  be  honoured 
by  the  best  epitaph  a  prince  can  have,  the  written  account  of  his 
achievements." — A  paper  epitaph,  therefore,  or,  in  other  words,  an 
historical  eulogy,  instead  of  a  slight  token  of  respect,  is  mentioned 
by  Henry  as  the  most  honourable  memorial ;  and  Dr.  Johnson's 
objection  founded  on  the  incongruity  of  saying  that  his  grave 
should  not  be  dignified  by  the  slightest  memorial,  falls  to  the 
ground. 

Dryden  has  a  similar  expression  in  the  dedication  of  his  poem 
entitled  Eleonora  to  the  Earl  of  Abingdon  :  "  Be  pleased  to  ac- 
cept of  these  my  unworthy  labours  ;  this  paper  monument." 

The  misrepresentation,  I  conceive,  arose  from  understanding  a 
figurative  expression  literally,  and  supposing  that  a  paper  epitaph 
meant  an  epitaph  written  on  a  paper,  to  be  affixed  to  a  tomb. 


284  KING  HENRY  V.  act  1. 

Enter  Ambassadors  of  France. 
Now  are  we  well  prepar'd  to  know  the  pleasure 
Of  our  fair  cousin  Dauphin ;  for,  we  hear, 
Your  greeting  is  from  him,  not  from  the  king. 
Amb.  May  it  please  your  majesty,  to  give  us  leave 


Waxen,  the  reading  of  the  folio,  when  it  is  used  by  Shakspeare 
metaphorically,  signifies  soft,  yielding,  taking  an  impression 
easily  ;  (so,  in  Twelfth -Night,  "women's  waxen  hearts  ;"  and,  in 
The  Rape  of  Lucrece,  "  For  men  have  marble,  women  waxen 
minds,"  &c.)  and  consequently  might  mean  also — easily  obliter- 
ated :  but  this  meaning  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  context ;  for 
in  the  former  part  of  the  passage  the  event  of  Henry's  being  bu- 
ried without  a  tomb,  and  without  an  epitaph,  has  been  already 
stated,  and  therefore  the  want  of  an  epitaph  (in  its  literal  acceptation) 
could  not  with  propriety  again  be  insisted  on,  in  the  latter  member 
of  the  sentence,  which  relates  to  a  different  point ;  the  question  in 
this  place  being  only,  whether  his  deeds  should  be  emblazoned  by 
narration,  or  his  actions  and  his  bones  together  consigned  to 
" dust  and  damn'd  oblivion"  If  any  alteration  was  made  by  the 
author,  in  this  passage,  he  might  perhaps  have  changed  the  epi- 
thet paper  to  lasting  ;  and  the  transcriber  who  prepared  the  folio 
copy  for  the  press,  might  have  been  deceived  by  his  ear,  and  have 
written  waxen  instead  of  the  latter  word.  There  is  not  indeed 
much  similarity  in  the  sound  of  the  two  words  ;  but  mistakes 
equally  gross  are  found  in  these  plays,  which,  it  is  highly  pro- 
bable, happened  in  this  way.  Thus,  in  this  very  play,  the  folio 
has  name  for  mare.  See  p.  296,  n.  5.  Our  poet's  55th  Sonnet 
furnishes  a  strong  confirmation  of  my  interpretation  of  this 
passage : 

"  Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 
"  Of  princes,  shall  out-live  this  powerful  rhyme  ; 
"  But  you  shall  shine  more  bright  in  these  contents 
"  Than  unswept  stone,  besmear'd  with  sluttish  time. 
"  When  wasteful  war  shall  statues  overturn, 
"  And  broils  root  out  the  work  of  masonry, 
*'  Nor  Mars  his  sword,  nor  war's  quick  fire,  shall  burn 
"  The  living  record  of  your  memory ; "  &c. 
So  also,  in  his  81st  Sonnet : 

"  Your  monument  shall  be  my  gentle  verse."     Malone. 

Mr.  Gifford  thinks  the  expression — a  waxen  epitaph,  alludes  to 

a  custom  still  prevalent  on  the  Continent,  and  anciently  in  this 

country,  to  affix  laudatory  poems,  epitaphs,  &c.  to  the  herse,  with 

pins,  wax,  paste,  &c.    See  his  edition  of  Ben  Jonson,  vol.  ix.  p.  58. 

Boswell. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.    .  285 

Freely  to  render  what  we  have  in  charge ; 

Or  shall  we  sparingly  show  you  far  off, 

The  Dauphin's  meaning  *,  and  our  embassy  ? 

K.  Hen.  We  are  no  tyrant,  but  a  Christian  king ; 
Unto  whose  grace  our  passion  is  as  subject, 
As  are  our  wretches  fetter'd  in  our  prisons  : 
Therefore,  with  frank  and  with  uncurbed  plainness, 
Tell  us  the  Dauphin's  mind. 

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; 
And  bids  you  be  advis'd,  there's  nought  in  France, 
That  can  be  with  a  nimble  galliard  won 3 ; 
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, 

*  Quarto,  pleasure. 

3  —  a  nimble  galliard  won  ;]     A  galliard  was  an  ancient 
dance,  now  obsolete.     So,  in  All  for  Money,  1574  : 

"  Where  shall  we  get  a  pipe,  to  play  the  devil  a  galliard?  " 

Steevens. 
Galliards  are  thus  described  by  Sir  John  Davis,  in  his  poem 
called  Orchestra : 

"  But  for  more  diverse  and  more  pleasing  show, 
"  A  swift  and  wand'ring  dance  she  did  invent, 
"  With  passages  uncertain  to  and  fro, 
"  Yet  with  a  certain  answer  and  consent 
"  To  the  quick  musick  of  the  instrument. 
"  Five  was  the  number  of  the  musick's  feet, 
"  Which  still  the  dance  did  with  five  paces  meet ; 
•*  A  gallant  dance,  that  lively  doth  bewray 

"  A  spirit  and  a  virtue  masculine, 
"  ^patient  that  her  house  on  earth  should  stay, 
"  Since  she  herself  is  fiery  and  divine : 
"  Oft  doth  she  make  her  body  upward  fine  ; 
"  With  lofty  turns  and  capriols  in  the  air, 
"  Which  with  the  lusty  tunes  accordeth  fair."  Reed. 


286  KING  HENRY  V.  act  1. 

Hear  no  more  of  you.     This  the  Dauphin  speaks. 

K.  Hen.  What  treasure,  uncle  ? 

Exe.  Tennis-balls,  my  liege  4. 

K.  Hen.  We  are  glad,  the  Dauphin  is  so  pleasant 
with  us5; 
His  present,  and  your  pains,  we  thank  you  for : 
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  6.     And  we  understand  him  well, 
How  he  comes  o'er  us  with  our  wilder  days, 
Not  measuring  what  use  we  made  of  them. 

4  Tennis-balls,  my  liege.]  In  the  old  play  of  King  Henry  V. 
already  mentioned,  this  present  consists  of  a  gilded  tun  of  tennis- 
balls  and  a  carpet.     Steevens. 

5  We  are  glad,  the  Dauphin  is  so  pleasant  with  us ;]  Thus 
stands  the  answer  of  King  Henry  in  the  same  old  play : 

"  My  lord,  prince  Dolphin  is  very  pleasant  with  me. 
"  But  tell  him,  that  instead  of  balls  of  leather, 
"  We  will  toss  him  balls  of  brass  and  of  iron  : 
"  Yea,  such  balls  as  never  were  toss'd  in  France. 
"  The  proudest  tennis-court  in  France  shall  rue  it." 
The  same  circumstance  also  is  thus  expressed  in  Michael  Dray- 
ton's Battle  of  Agincourt : 

"  I'll  send  him  balls  and  rackets  if  I  live  ; 

"  That  they  such  racket  shall  in  Paris  see, 

"  When  over  line  with  bandies  I  shall  drive; 

"  As  that,  before  the  set  be  fully  done, 

"  France  may  perhaps  into  the  hazard  run."     Steevens. 

6  —  chaces.]     Chace  is  a  term  at  tennis.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia,  book  iii.  :  "  Then  Fortune  (as  if  she 
had  made  chases  enow  on  the  one  side  of  that  bloody  Tenis-court) 
went  on  the  other  side  of  the  line,"  &c. 

The  hazard  is  a  place  in  the  tennis-court  into  which  the  ball  is 
sometimes  struck.     Steevens. 

A  chace,  at  tennis,  is  that  spot  where  a  ball  falls,  beyond  which 
the  adversary  must  strike  his  ball  to  gain  a  point  or  chace.  At 
long  tennis,  it  is  the  spot  where  the  ball  leaves  off  rolling.  We 
see,  therefore,  why  the  king  has  called  himself  a  ivrangler.  Douce. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  287 

We  never  valu'd  this  poor  seat  of  England 7 ; 
And  therefore,  living  hence  8,  did  give  ourself 

7  —  this  poor  seat  of  England  ;]  By  the  seat  of  England,  the 
King,  I  believe,  means  the  throne.  So,  Othello  boasts  that  he 
is  descended  "  from  men  of  royal  siege."  Henrv  afterwards 
says,  he  will  rouse  him  in  his  throne  of  France.  The  words 
below,  "  I  will  keep  my  state,"  likewise  confirm  this  interpreta- 
tion. For  this  meaning  of  the  word  state,  see  vol.  xi.  p.  164, 
n.  5.     So,   in  King  Richard  II.  : 

"  Yea,  distaff-women  manage  rusty  bills 

' '  Against  thy  seat." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  The  supreme  seat,  the  throne  majestical — ." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  II. : 

"  The  rightful  heir  to  England's  royal  seat."     Malone. 

8  And  therefore,  living  hence,]  This  expression  has  strength 
and  energy :  he  never  valued  England,  and  therefore  lived  hence, 
i.  e.  as  if  absent  from  it.  But  the  Oxford  editor  alters  hence  to 
here.     Warburton. 

Living  hence  means,  I  believe,  •withdrawing  from  the  court,  the 
place  in  which  he  is  now  speaking. 

Perhaps  Prospero,  in  The  Tempest,  has  more  clearly  expressed 
the  same  idea,  when  he  says  : 

"  The  government  I  cast  upon  my  brother, 
"  And  to  my  state  grew  stranger."     Steevens. 
In  King  Richard  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  II.  King  Henry  IV.  complains 
that  he  had  not  seen  his  son  for  three  months,  and  desires  that 
he  may  be  enquired  for  among  the  taverns,  where  he  daily  fre- 
quents,— 

"  With  unrestrain'd  and  loose  companions." 
See  also  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  II. : 
"  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." 
There  can  therefore  be  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Steevens's  explana- 
tion is  just.     Hence  refers  to  the  seat  or  throne  of  England  men- 
tioned in  the  preceding  line,  on  which  Henry  is  now  sitting.     An 
anonymous  Remarker  says,  "  It  is  evident  that  the  word  hence 
implies  here"     If  hence  means  here,  any  one  word,  as  Dr.  John- 
son   has  somewhere  observed,    may  stand   for  another.     It  un- 
doubtedly does  not  signify  here  in  the  present  passage ;  and  if  it 
did,  would  render  what  follows  nonsense.     Malone. 

The  more  I  consider  this  passage,  and  the  remarks  of  its  vari- 
ous commentators,  the  more  convinced  I  am  that  the  present 
reading  cannot  be  reconciled  to  sense.     M.  Mason. 


288  KING  HENRY  V.  act  i. 

To  barbarous  license ;  As  'tis  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, 
When  I  do  rouse  me  in  my  throne  of  France : 
For  that  I  have  laid  by9  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. 
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  hus- 
bands ; 
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, 
Tell  you  the  Dauphin  I  am  coming  on, 
To  venge  me  as  I  may,  and  to  put  forth 

9  For  that  I  have  laid  by — ]  To  qualify  myself  for  this  under- 
taking, I  have  descended  from  my  station,  and  studied  the  arts  of 
life  in  a  lower  character.     Johnson. 

The  quartos  1600  and  1608  read — "For  this."     Steevens. 

1  —  his  balls  to  gun-stones  ;]  When  ordnance  was  first 
used,  they  discharged  balls,  not  of  iron,  but  of  stone.    Johnson. 

So,  Holinshed,  p.  94/7  :  "  About  seaven  of  the  clocke  marched 
forward  the  light  pieces  of  ordinance,  with  stone  and  powder." 

In  the  Brut  of  England  it  is  said,  that  when  Henry  the  Fifth 
before  Hare-flete  received  a  taunting  message  from  the  Dauphine 
of  France,  and  a  ton  of  tennis-balls  by  way  of  contempt,  "  he 
anone  lette  make  tenes  balles  for  the  Dolfin  (Henry's  ship)  in  all 
the  haste  that  they  myght,  and  they  were  great  gonnestones  for 
the  Dolfin  to  playe  with  alle.  But  this  game  at  tennis  was  too 
rough  for  the  besieged,  when  Henry  playede  at  the  tenes  with  his 
hard  gonnestones"  &c.     Steevens. 


situ.  KING  HENRY  V.  289 

My  rightful  hand  in  a  well-hallow'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.  [Descends  from  his  Throne. 

Therefore,  my  lords,  omit  no  happy  hour, 
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 2 ;  for,  God  before, 
We'll  chide  this  Dauphin  at  his  father's  door. 
Therefore,  let  every  man  now  task  his  thought 3, 
That  this  fair  action  may  on  foot  be  brought. 

[Exeunt. 


ACT  II. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Now  all  the  youth  of  England 4  are  on  fire, 
And  silken  dalliance  in  the  wardrobe  lies; 

2  — with  reasonable  swiftness,  add 
More  feathers  to  our  wings  ;]    So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida : 

" set 

"  The  very  tvings  of  reason  to  his  heels."     Steevens. 
s  —  task  his  thought,]   The  same  phrase  has  already  occurred 
at  the  beginning  of  the  present  scene : 

"  That  task  our  thoughts,  concerning  us  and  France." 
See  p.  265,  n.  1.     Steevens. 

4  Now  all  the  youth  of  England  — ]     I  think  Mr.  Pope  mis- 
VOIi.  XVII.  u 


290  KING  HENRY  V.  act  //. 

Now  thrive  the  armourers,  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 5, 

Promis'd  to  Harry,  and  his  followers. 

The  French,  advis'd  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  might'st  thou  do,  that  honour  would  thee  do, 

taken  in  transposing  this  Chorus,  [to  the  end  of  the  first  scene  of 
the  second  Act,]  and  Mr.  Theobald  in  concluding  the  [first]  Act 
with  it.  The  Chorus  evidently  introduces  that  which  follows,  not 
comments  on  that  which  precedes,  and  therefore  rather  begins 
than  ends  the  Act ;  and  so  I  have  printed  it.     Johnson. 

*  For  now  sits  Expectation  in  the  air ; 
And  hides  a  sword,  from  hilts  unto  the  point, 
With  crowns  imperial,  &c]  The  imagery  is  wonderfully 
fine,  and  the  thought  exquisite.  Expectation  sitting  in  the  air 
designs  the  height  of  their  ambition  ;  and  the  sword  hid  from  the 
hilt  to  the  point  with  croivns  and  coronets,  that  all  sentiments  of 
danger  were  lost  in  the  thoughts  of  glory.     Warburton. 

The  idea  is  taken  from  the  ancient  representation  of  trophies  in 
tapestry  or  painting.  Among  these  it  is  very  common  to  see 
swords  encircled  with  naval  or  mural  crowns.  Expectation  is  like- 
wise personified  by  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  book  vi. : 

" while  Expectation  stood 

"  In  horror — ."     Steevens. 

In  the  Horse  Armoury  in  the  Tower  of  London,  Edward  III.  is 
represented  with  two  crowns  on  his  sword,  alluding  to  the  two 
kingdoms,  France  and  England,  of  both  of  which  he  was  crowned 
heir.  Perhaps  the  poet  took  the  thought  from  a  similar  repre- 
sentation.    Tollet. 

This  image,  it  has  been  observed  by  Mr.  Henley,  is  borrowed 
from  a  wooden  cut  in  the  first  edition  of  Holinshed's  Chronicle. 

Malone. 


actu.  KING  HENRY  V.  291 

Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural ! 

But  see  thy  fault !  France  hath  in  thee  found  out 

A  nest  of  hollow  bosoms,  which  he  fills 6 

With  treacherous  crowns :    and   three   corrupted 

men, — 
One,  Richard  earl  of  Cambridge 7 ;  and  the  second, 
Henry  lord  Scroop 8  of  Marsham ;  and  the  third, 
Sir  Thomas  Grey  knight  of  Northumberland, — 
Have,  for  the  gilt  of  France 9,  (O  guilt,  indeed  !) 
Confirm'd  conspiracy  with  fearful  France ; 
And  by  their  hands  this  grace    of   kings x   must 

die, 

• 

6  — which  he—]  i.  e.  the  king  of  France.  So,  in  King 
John : 

"  England,  impatient  of  your  just  demands, 

"  Hath  put  himself  in  arms." 
Hanmer  and  some  other  editors  unnecessarily  read — she. 
Again,  in  a  subsequent  scene  of  the  play  before  us : 

"  Though  France  himself,  and  such  another  neighbour, 

"  Stood  in  our  way."     Malone. 

7  —  Richard  earl  of  Cambridge  ;]  Was  Richard  de  Conins- 
bury,  younger  son  of  Edmund  of  Langley,  Duke  of  York.  He 
was  father  of  Richard  Duke  of  York,  father  of  Edward  the  Fourth. 

Walpole. 

8  Henry  lord  Scroop — ]  Was  a  third  husband  of  Joan  Duchess 
of  York,  (she  had  four,)  mother-in-law  of  Richard  Earl  of  Cam- 
bridge.    Malone. 

9  —  the  gilt  of  France,]  Gilt,  which,  in  our  author,  gene- 
rally signifies  a  display  of  gold,  (as  in  this  play, 

"  Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  are  all  besmirch'd.") 
in  the  present  instance  means  golden  money.     So,  in  An  Alarum 
for  London,  1602: 

"  To  spend  the  victuals  of  our  citizens, 

"  Which  we  can  scarcely  compass  now  for  gilt." 

Steevens. 
1  — this  grace  of  kings — ]     i.  e.  he  who  does   the  greatest 
honour  to  the  title.    By  the  same  kind  of  phraseology  the  usurper 
in   Hamlet  is  called  the   Vice  of  kings,  i.  e.  the  opprobrium  of 
them.     Warburton. 

Shakspeare  might  have  found  this  phrase  in  Chapman's  trans- 
lation of  the  first  book  of  Homer,  1598 : 

" with  her  the  grace  of  kings, 

"  Wise  Ithacus  ascended—." 
U  2 


292  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ji 

(If  hell  and  treason  hold  their  promises,) 
Ere  he  take  ship  for  France,  and  in  Southampton. 
Linger  your  patience  on ;  and  well  digest  '2 
The  abuse  of  distance,  while  we  force  a  play3. 
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 4,  there  must  you  sit : 

Again,  in  the  24th  book  [no  date]  :  . 

"  Idseus,  guider  of  the  mules,  discern'd  this  grace  of  men." 

Steevens. 

2  —  well  digest — ]  The  folio,  in  which  only  these  choruses 
are  found,  reads,  and  perhaps  rightly — "  we'll  digest." 

Steevens. 
This  emendation  was   made   by  Mr.  Pope ;  and  the  words — 
while  we,  which  are  not  in  the  old  copy,  were  supplied  by  him.     ■ 

Malone. 

3  —  while  we  force  a  play.]  The  two  first  words  were  added 
(as  it  should  seem)  very  properly.  To  force  a  play,  is  to  produce 
a  play  by  compelling  many  circumstances  into  a  narrow  compass. 

Steevens. 
•»  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. 
Linger  your  patience  on  ;  and  well  digest 
The  abuse  of  distance,  while  we  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,]     I  suppose  everyone  that  reads 
these  lines  looks    about  for  a  meaning  which  he  cannot  find. 
There  is  no  connection  of  sense  nor  regularity  of  transition  from 
one  thought  to  the  other.     It  may  be  suspected  that  some  lines 
are  lost,  and  in  that  case  the  sense  is  irretrievable.     I  rather 
think,  the  meaning  is  obscured  by  an  accidental  transposition, 
which  I  would  reform  thus  : 

"  And  by  their  hands  this  grace  of  kings  must  die, 

"  If  hell  and  treason  hold  their  promises. 

"  The  sum  is  paid,  the  traitors  are  agreed, 

"  The  king  is  set  from  London,  and  the  scene 

"  Is  now  transported,  gentles,  to  Southampton, 

"  Ere  he  take  ship  for  France.     And  in  Southampton 

"  Linger  your  patience  on,  and  well  digest 

"  The  abuse  of  distance,  while  we  force  a  play. 

"  There  is  the  playhouse  now — ." 


act  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  293 

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, 
We'll  not  offend  one  stomach 6  with  our  play. 
But,  till  the  king  come  forth  7,  and  not  till  then, 
Unto  Southampton  do  we  shift  our  scene.     [Exit. 

This  alteration  restores  sense,  and  probably  the  true  sense. 
The  lines  might  be  otherwise  ranged,  but  this  order  pleases  me 
best.     Johnson. 

An  unnecessary  transposition  of  these  most  plain  and  intelligible 
lines  has  been  offered  by  Dr.  Johnson,  on  his  supposition  that 
every  one  who  reads  them  "  looks  about  for  a  meaning  which  he 
cannot  find."  In  confirmation  of  their  original  arrangement,  we 
learn  from  Stowe  and  Holinshed,  the  historians  whom  Shakspeare 
followed,  and  Dr.  Johnson  perhaps  never  thought  worth  con- 
sulting, that  the  plot  against  the  king  was  laid  by  the  conspirators 
at  Southampton  ;  a  circumstance  that  is  weakened,  if  not  alto- 
gether cancelled,  by  the  proposed  arrangement.  See  a  speech  by 
King  Henry  in  the  ensuing  act.     Douce. 

s  —  charming  the  narrow  seas  — ]  Though  Ben  Jonson,  as 
we  are  told,  was  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Shakspeare  for 
the  introduction  of  his  first  piece,  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  on 
the  stage,  and  though  our  author  performed  a  part  in  it,  Jonson, 
in  the  prologue  to  that  play,  as  in  many  other  places,  endeavoured 
to  ridicule  and  depreciate  him  : 

"  He  rather  prays,  you  will  be  pleas'd  to  see 
"  One  such  to-day,  as  other  plays  should  be ; 
"  Where  neither  chorus  wafts  you  o'er  the  seas,"  &c. 

When  this  prologue  was  written  is  unknown.  The  envious 
author  of  it,  however,  did  not  publish  it  till  1616,  the  year  of 
Shakspeare's  death.     Malone. 

Mr.  Gifford  has  satisfactorily  refuted  this  charge  against 
Jonson.     Boswell. 

6  We'll  not  offend  one  stomach  — ]  That  is,  you  shall  pass 
the  sea  without  the  qualms  of  sea-sickness.     Johnson. 

?  But,  till  the  king  come  forth,]  Here  seems  to  be  some- 
thing omitted.     Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  : 

"  But  when  the  king  comes  forth — ," 
which,  as  the  passage  now  stands,   is  necessary.     These  lines, 
obscure  as  they  are,  refute  Mr.  Pope's  conjectures  on  the   true 
place  of  the  Chorus ;  for  they  show  that  something  is  to  inter- 
vene before  the  scene  changes  to  Southampton.     Johnson. 

The  Canons  of  Criticism  read  : 

"  — —  and  but  till  then. 

And  Mr.  Heath  approves  the  correction.     Steevens. 


294  KING  HENRY  V.  act  //. 

SCENE  I. 

The  Same.     Eastcheap. 

Enter  Nym  and  Bardolph. 
Bard,  Well  met,  corporal  Nym. 
Nym.  Good  morrow,  lieutenant  Bardolph 8. 
Bard.  What,  are  ancient  Pistol  and  you  friends 
yet? 

Mr.  Roderick  would  read  : 

" and  but  till  then  ;  " 

that  is,  "  till  the  king  appears  next,  you  are  to  suppose  the  scene 
shifted  to  Southampton,  and  no  longer  ;  for  as  soon  as  he  comes 
forth,  it  tvill  shift  to  France."     But  this  does  not  agree  with  the 
fact ;  for  a  scene  in  London  intervenes. 

In  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  1600,  printed  by  J.  Roberts,  but 
is  printed  for  not : 

"  Repent  but  you  that  you  shall  lose  your  friend." 
and  the  two  words,   in  many  other  places,  are  confounded.     See 
p.  278,  n.  4.     I  suspect  but  is  printed  for  not  in  the  beginning  of 
the  line,  and  that  not  has  taken  the  place  of  but  afterwards.     If 
we  read : 

"  Not  till  the  king  come  forth,  and  but  till  then — ," 
the  meaning  will  be  :  "  We  will  not  shift  our  scene  unto  South- 
ampton, till  the  king  makes  his  appearance  on  the  stage,  and 
the  scene  will  be  at  Southampton  only  for  the  short  time  while  he 
does  appear  on  the  stage ;  for  soon  after  his  appearance,  it  will 
change  to  France."     Malone. 

8  —  lieutenant  Bardolph.]  At  this  scene  begins  the  connec- 
tion of  this  play  with  the  latter  part  of  King  Henry  IV.  The  cha- 
racters would  be  indistinct,  and  the  incidents  unintelligible, 
without  the  knowledge  of  what  passed  in  the  two  foregoing  plays. 

Johnson. 

The  author  of  Remarks  on  the  last  edition  of  Shakspeare 
[1778]  wishes  to  know,  where  Bardolph  acquired  this  commis- 
sion, (as  he  is  no  more  than  FalstafPs  corporal  in  King  Henry  IV.) 
and  calls  on  Mr.  Steevens  for  information  on  this  subject.  If 
Shakspeare  were  now  alive,  he  would  perhaps  find  it  as  difficult 
to  give  the  desired  information  as  Mr.  Steevens.  The  intelligent 
reader  must  long  since  have  observed  that  our  author  not  only 
neglected  to  compare  his  plays  with  each  other,  but  that,  even  in 
the  same  play,  "  the  latter  end  of  his  commonwealth  sometimes 
forgets  the  beginning."     Malone. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  V.  295 

Nym.  For  my  part,  I  care  not :  I  say  little ;  but 
when  time  shall  serve,  there  shall  be  smiles9  ; — 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  the  humour  of  it*. 

Bard.  I  will  bestow  a  breakfast,  to  make  you 
friends ;  and  we'll  be  all  three  sworn  brothers  to 
France 2 ;  let  it  be  so,  good  corporal  Nym. 


9  — there  shall  be  smiles;]  I  suspect  smiles  to  be  a  mar- 
ginal direction  crept  into  the  text.  It  is  natural  for  a  man,  when 
he  threatens,  to  break  off  abruptly,  and  conclude,  '  But  that  shall 
be  as  it  may.'  But  this  fantastical  fellow  is  made  to  smile  dis- 
dainfully while  he  threatens;  which  circumstance  was  marked 
for  the  player's  direction  in  the  margin.     Warburton. 

I  do  not  remember  to  have  met  with  these  marginal  directions 
for  expression  of  countenance  in  any  of  our  ancient  manuscript 
plays  :  neither  do  I  see  occasion  for  Dr.  Warburton's  emendation, 
as  it  is  vain  to  seek  the  precise  meaning  of  every  whimsical 
phrase  employed  by  this  eccentric  character.  Nym,  however, 
having  expressed  his  indifference  about  the  continuation  of  Pis- 
tol's friendship,  might  have  added,  '  when  time  serves,  there  shall 
be  smiles,'  i.  e.  he  should  be  merry,  even  though  he  was  to  lose 
it ;  or,  that  his  face  would  be  ready  with  a  smile  as  often  as 
occasion  should  call  one  out  into  service,  though  Pistol,  who  had 
excited  so  many,  was  no  longer  near  him.  Dr.  Fanner,  however, 
with  great  probability,  would  read, — smites,  i.  e.  bloxus,  a  word 
used  in  the  midland  counties.     Steevens. 

Perhaps  Nym  means  only  to  say,  I  care  not  whether  we  are 
friends  at  present ;  however,  when  time  shall  serve,  tve  shall  be 
in  good  humour  with  each  other :  but  be  it  as  it  may.     Malone. 

Perhaps  Nym,  who  is  ludicrously  stating  the  degree  of  courao-e 
which  he  possesses,  does  not  refer  in  these  words  to  the  question 
which  was  asked,  but  talks  in  the  style  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  : 
"  Bru.  If  we  do  meet  again,  why  we  shall  smile  "  &c. 
"  Cas.  If  we  do  meet  again,  ive'll  smile  indeed." 

Boswel1" 

1  —  the  humour  of  it.]     Thus  the  quarto.     The  folio  reads> 
and  there's  an  end.     Steevens. 

2  —and  we'll  be  all  three  sworn  brothers  to  France:]  We 
should  read, — "  we'll  all  go  sworn  brothers  to  France,  or,  we'll 
all  be  sworn  brothers  in  France."     Johnson. 


296  KING  HENRY  V.  act  n. 

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 3 :  that  is  my  rest 4,  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. 

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  mare5,  yet  she  will  plod.  There  must  be  con- 
clusions.    Well,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter  Pistol  and  Mrs.  Quickly. 

Bard.  Here  comes  ancient  Pistol,  and  his  wife : — 
good  corporal,  be  patient  here. — How  now,  mine 
host  Pistol  ? 

Pist.  Base  tike  6,  call'st  thou  me — host  ? 

The  humour  of  sworn  brothers  should  be  opened  a  little.  In 
the  time  of  adventure,  it  was  usual  for  two  chiefs  to  bind  them- 
selves to  share  in  each  other's  fortune,  and  divide  their  acquisi- 
tions 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. 
So  these  three  scoundrels  set  out  for  France,  as  if  they  were  going 
to  make  a  conquest  of  the  kingdom.     Whalley. 

3  —  and  when  I  cannot  live  any  longer,  I  will  do  as  I  may  :] 
Surely  we  ought  to  read,  "  I  will  die  as  I  may."     M.  Mason. 

4— that  is  my  rest,]  i.  e.  what  I  am  resolved  on.  For  a 
particular  account  of  this  phrase,  see  notes  on  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
vol.  vi.  p.  203,  n.  6,  and  p.  242,  n.  1 .     Steevens. 

5  — patience  be  a  tired  mare,]  The  folio  reads,  by  corrup- 
tion, tired  name,  from  which  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  sagaciously  enough, 
derived  tired  dame.  Mr.  Theobald  retrieved  from  the  quarto, 
tired  mare,  the  true  reading.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Pierce's  Supererogation,  or  a  New  Praise  of  the  Old 
Asse,  &c. :  "  Silence  is  a  slave  in  a  chaine,  and  patience  the 
common  packhorse  of  the  world."     Steevens. 

6  Base  tike,]  Tijk  is  the  Runick  word  for  a  little,  or  worthless 
dog.     So,  in  King  Lear  : 


sc.  j.  KING  HENRY  V.  297 

Now,  by  this  hand  I  swear,  I  scorn  the  term  ; 
Nor  shall  my  Nell  keep  lodgers. 

Quick.  No,  by  my  troth,  not  long :  for  we  can- 
not lodge  and  board  a  dozen  or  fourteen  gentle 
women,  that  live  honestly  by  the  prick  of  their 
needles,  but  it  will  be  thought  we  keep  a  bawdy- 
house  straight.  \_Nym  draws  his  sword.']  O  Lord  ! 
here's  corporal  Nym's  7 — now  shall  we  have  wilful 


"  Or  bobtail  tike,  or  trundle-tail." 

This  word  is  still  employed  in  Yorkshire,  and  means  a  clown, 
or  rustick.      So,  in  Henry  Carey's  ballad  opera,   entitled,  The 
Wonder,  an  Honest  Yorkshireman,  1736: 
"  If  you  can  like 
"  A  Yorkshire  like,"  &c.     Steevens. 

In  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  1617,  tike  is  defined,  "  a  worme 
that  sucks  the  blood."  It  is  now  commonly  spelt  tick,  an  animal 
that  infests  sheep,  dogs,  &c.  This  may  have  been  Pistol's  term. 
Our  author  has  the  word  in  the  sense  Mr.  Steevens  has  assigned 
to  it,  in  King  Lear ;  and  it  occurs  with  the  other  signification  in 
Troilus  and  Cressida.  Pistol's  next  speech,  however,  supports  the 
former  explanation.     Malone. 

7  O  Lord  !  here's  corporal  Nym's.]  Before  these  words,  the 
folio  has,  "  O  well-a-day,  Lady,  if  he  be  not  hewn  now,"  which 
the  following  notes  refer  to.     Boswell. 

The  folio — hewn.  If  he  be  not  hewn  must  signify,  if  he  be  not 
cut  down ;  and  in  that  case  the  very  thing  is  supposed  which 
Quickly  was  apprehensive  of.  But  I  rather  think  her  fright 
arises  upon  seeing  the  swords  drawn,  and  I  have  ventured  to 
make  a  slight  alteration  accordingly.  "  If  he  be  not  drawn," 
for,  "  if  he  has  not  his  sword  drawn,"  is  an  expression  familiar  to 
our  poet.     Theobald. 

The  quarto  omits  this  obscure  passage,  and  only  gives  us, — 
"  O  Lord  !  here's  corporal  Nym's ."  But  as  it  cannot  be  as- 
certained which  words  (or  whether  any)  were  designedly  excluded, 
I  have  left  both  exclamations  in  the  text.  Mrs.  Quickly,  without 
deviation  from  her  character,  may  be  supposed  to  utter  repeated 
outcries  on  the  same  alarm.  And  yet  I  think  we  might  read, — 
"  if  he  be  not  hewing."  To  hack  and  hew  is  a  common  vulgar 
expression.  So,  in  If  you  know  not  me  you  know  Nobody,  by 
Heywood,  1606  :  "  —  Bones  o'  me,  he  would  hew  it." 

Again,  in  King  Edward  III.  1599  : 

M  The  sin  is  more  to  hack  and  hew  poor  men." 

Again,    in    Froissart's    Chronicle,    cap.   ccclv.    fol.  ccxxxiiii. : 
5 


298  KING  HENRY  V.  act  u. 

adultery  and  murder  committed.     Good  lieutenant 
Bardolph 8, — good  corporal,  offer  nothing  here. 

'*  For  they  all  to  hewed  the  maryners,  and  dyde  putte  out  their 
eyen,  and  so  sente  them  to  Gaunte,  maymed  as  they  were." 

After  all  (as  the  late  Mr.  Guthrie  observed)  to  be  hewn  might 
mean,  to  be  drunk.  There  is  yet  a  low  phrase  in  use  on  the  same 
occasion,  which  is  not  much  unlike  it ;  viz.  "  he  is  cut"—' 
"  Such  a  one  was  cut  a  little  last  night." 

So,  in  The  Witty  Fair  One,  by  Shirley,  1633 : 

"  Then,  sir,  there  is  the  cut  of  your  leg. > 

"  ■ that's  when  a  man  is  drunk,  is  it  not? 

"Do  not  stagger  in  your  judgment,  for  this  cut  is  the  grace  of 
your  body." 

Again,  in  The  London  Chaunticleres,  1659  :  "  —  when  the 
cups  of  canary  have  made  our  heads  frisk ;  oh  how  we  shall  foot 
it  when  we  can  scarce  stand,  and  caper  when  we  are  cut  in  the 
leg!  "  Again,  in  Decker's  Guls  Hornbook,  1609:  " — to  accept 
the  courtesy  of  the  cellar  when  it  is  offered  you  by  the  drawers 
(and  you  must  know  that  kindness  never  creepes  upon  them  but 
when  they  see  you  almost  cleft  to  the  shoulders),"  &c. 

Steevens. 

I  have  here  followed  the  quarto,  because  it  requires  no  emen- 
dation. Here's  corporal  Nym's  stvord  drawn,  the  Hostess  would 
say,  but  she  breaks  off  abruptly. 

The  editor  of  the  folio  here,  as  in  many  other  places,  not 
understanding  an  abrupt  passage,  I  believe,  made  out  something 
that  he  conceived  might  have  been  intended.  Instead  of  "  O 
Lord,"  to  avoid  the  penalty  of  the  statute,  he  inserted,  "  O  well 
a-day,  lady,"  and  added, — "  if  he  be  not  hewn  now."  The  latter 
word  is  evidently  corrupt,  and  was  probably  printed,  as  Mr. 
Steevens  conjectures,  for  hewing.  But,  for  the  reason  already 
given,  I  have  adhered  to  the  quarto.     Malone. 

How  would  the  editor  of  the  folio  have  escaped  profaneness 
by  substituting  Lady  for  Lord  ?  for  Lady  is  an  exclamation  on 
our  blessed  Lady,  the  Virgin  Mary.     Steevens. 

The  answer  is,  that  he  would  not  have  been  subjectto  the  penalty 
laid  in  the  statute,  which  prohibits  introducing  on  the  stage  the 
name  of  God,  our  Saviour,  or  the  Trinity  ;  but  says  not  a  word 
about  the  Virgin  Mary.     Malone. 

8  Good  lieutenant,  &c]  This  sentence  (except  the  word 
Bardolph)  is  in  the  folio  given  to  Bardolph,  to  whom  it  is  evident 
these  words  cannot,  belong,  for  he  is  himself,  in  this  play,  the 
lieutenant.  Mr.  Steevens  proposes  to  solve  the  difficulty  by  read- 
ing— good  ancient,  supposing  Pistol  to  be  the  person  addressed. 
But  it  is  clear,  I  think,  from  the  quarto,  that  these  words  belong  to 
the  speech  of  the  Hostess,  who,  seeing  Nym's  sword  drawn,  con- 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  299 

Nym.  Pish! 

Pist.  Pish  for  thee,  Iceland  dog 9 !  thou  prick- 
eared  cur l  of  Iceland  ! 

jures  him  and  his  friend  Bardolph  to  use  no  violence.  In  the 
quarto,  the  words,  "  Good  corporal  Nym,  show  the  valour  of  a 
man,"  are  immediately  subjoined  to — "  now  shall  we  have  wilful 
adultery  and  murder  committed."  Bardolph  was  probably  an  in- 
terlineation, and  erroneously  inserted  before  the  words,  "  good 
lieutenant,"  instead  of  being  placed,  as  it  now  is,  after  them, 
Hence,  he  was  considered  as  the  speaker,  instead  of  the  person 
addressed.     Malone. 

9  Iceland  dog !]  In  the  folio  the  word  is  spelt  Island  ;  in  the 
quarto,  Iseland.     Malone. 

I  believe  we  should  read,  Iceland  dog.  He  seems  to  allude  to 
an  account  credited  in  Elizabeth's  time,  that  in  the  north  there 
was  a  nation  with  human  bodies  and  dogs'  heads.     Johnson. 

The  quartos  confirm  Dr.  Johnson's  conjecture.     Steevens. 

Iceland  dog  is  probably  the  true  reading;  yet  in  Hakluyt's 
Voyages,  we  often  meet  with  island.  Drayton,  in  his  Moon-calf, 
mentions  xvater-dogs,  and  islands.  And  John  Taylor  dedicates  his 
Sculler  "  To  the  whole  kennel  of  Antichrist's  hounds,  priests, 
friars,  monks,  and  jesuites,  mastiffs,  mongrels,  islands,  blood- 
hounds, bob-taile  tikes.     Farmer. 

Perhaps  this  kind  of  dog  was  then  in  vogue  for  the  ladies  to 
carry  about  with  them. 

So,  in  Ram-Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

" you  shall  have  jewels, 

"  A  baboon,  a  parrot,  and  an  Izeland  dog." 

Again,  in  Two  Wise  Men,  and  all  the  rest  Fools,  1619  : 

"  Enter  Levitia,  cum  Pedisequa,  her  periwig  of  dog's  hair  ivhite, 
&c. 

*'  Insa.  A  woman  ?  'tis  not  a  woman.  The  head  is  a  dog ;  'tis 
a  mermaid,  half  dog,  half  woman. 

"  Par.  No,  'tis  but  the  hair  of  a  dog  in  fashion,  pulled  from 
these  Iceland  dogs." 

Again  :  "  —  for  torturing  of  these  Iceland  imps,  with  eradicat- 
ing their  fleeces,  thereby  to  enjoy  the  roots." 

Again,  in  the  Preface  to  Swetnam's  Arraignment  of  Women, 
1617  :  "  —  But  if  I  had  brought  little  dogs  from  Iceland,  or  fine 
glasses  from  Venice,"  &c. 

It  appears  from  a  Proclamation  in  Rymer's  Foedera,  that  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  V.  the  English  had  a  fishery  on  the  coasts  of  Nor- 
way and  Iceland ;  and  Holinshed,  in  his  Description  of  Britain, 
p.  231,  says,  '*  we  have  sholts  or  curs  dailie  brought  out  of  Ise- 
land."    Steevens. 

Island  [that  is,  Iceland]  cur  is  again  used  as  a  term  of  con- 

7 


300  KING  HENRY  V.  act  u. 

Quick.  Good  corporal  Nym,  show  the  valour  of 
a  man,  and  put  up  thy  sword. 

Nym.  Will  you  shog   off2  ?    I   would  have  you 
solus.  [Sheathing  his  sword. 

Pist.  SoluSy  egregious  dog  ?  O  viper  vile  ! 
The  solus  in  thy  most  marvellous  face ; 
The  solus  in  thy  teeth,  and  in  thy  throat, 
And  in  thy  hateful  lungs,  yea,  in  thy  maw,  perdy ;J ; 

tempt  in  Epigrams  served  out  in  Fifty-two  several  Dishes,  no  date, 
but  apparently  written  in  the  time  of  James  the  First : 

"  He  wears  a  gown  lac'd  round,  laid  down  with  furre, 
"  Or,  miser-like,  a  pouch,  where  never  man 
"  Could  thrust  his  finger,  but  this  island  curve." 
See  also  Britannia  Triumphans,  a  masque,  1636  : 

" she  who  hath  been  bred  to  stand 

"  Near  chair  of  queen,  with  Island  shock  in  hand." 

Malone. 

1  —  prick-eared  cur  — ]  A  prick-eared  cur  is  likewise  in  the 
list  of  dogs  enumerated  in  The  Booke  of  Huntyng,  &c.  bl.  1.  no 
date  : 

."  — —  trundle-tails  and  prick-eared  curs."     Steevens. 
"  There  were  newly  come  to  the  citie  two  young  men  that  were 
Romans,  which  ranged  up  and  downe  the  streetes,  with  their  ears 
upright."     Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure.     This   is  said  of  two 
sharpers,  and  seems  to  explain  the  term  prick-eared. 

Henderson. 

2  Will  you  shog  off?]  This  cant  word  is  used  in  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher's  Coxcomb : 

"  Come,  pr'ythee,  let  us  shog  off" 
Again,  in  Pasquill  and  Katharine,  1601  : 

"  •  thus  it  shogges,"  i.  e.  thus  it  goes. 

Thus,  also,  in  Arthur  Hall's  Translation  of  the  4th  Iliad,  4to. 
1581: 

«       i  .  these  fained  wordes  agog 

"  Sp  set  the  goddesses,  that  they  in  anger  gan  to  shog." 

Steevens. 

3  —  in  thy  hateful  lungs,  yea,  in  thy  maw,  perdy ;]     Such  was 
the  coarse  language  once  in  use  among  vulgar  brawlers.     So,  in 
The  Life  and  Death  of  William  Summers,  &c. : 

"  m   i      Thou  lyest  in  thy  throat  and  in  thy  guts."  Steevens. 

So,   in  Marston's  Fawne,  the  Page  says  of  his  master  Herod 

Frappatore,  that  he  boasted  of  having  lyen  with  that,  and  that, 

and  tother  lady,  &c.  when  poore  I  know  all  this  while  he  only  lied 

in  his  throat.     Boswell. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  301 

And,  which  is  worse,  within  thy  nasty  mouth  * ! 
I  do  retort  the  solus  in  thy  bowels  : 
For  I  can  take  6,  and  Pistol's  cock  is  up, 
And  flashing  fire  will  follow. 

Nym.  I  am  not  Barbason  ;  you  cannot  conjure 
me  6.  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    braggard   vile,    and  damned   furious 
wight ! 
The  grave  doth  gape,  and  doting  death  is  near 7 ; 
Therefore  exhale 8.  [Pistol  and  Nym  draw. 

4  —  thy  nasty  mouth  !]     The  quartos  read  : 

messful  mouth.     Steevens. 

5  For  I  can  take,]  I  know  not  well  what  he  can  take.  The 
quarto  reads  talk.  In  our  author  "  to  take,"  is  sometimes  'to 
blast,' which  sense  may  serve  in  this  place.     Johnson. 

The  old  reading,  "  1  can  take,"  is  right,  and  means,  '  I  can  take 
fire.'  Though  Pistol's  cock  was  up,  yet  if  he  did  not  take  fire,  no 
flashing  could  ensue.  The  whole  sentence  consists  in  allusions  to 
his  name.     M.  Mason. 

The  folio  here,  as  in  two  other  places,  corruptly  reads — take. 
See  vol.  xi.  p.  137,  n.  6.     Malone. 

6  I  am  not  Barbason  ;  you  cannot  conjure  me.]  Barbason  is 
the  name  of  a  dcemon  mentioned  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
vol.  viii.  p.  91,  n.  2.  The  unmeaning  tumour  of  Pistol's  speech 
very  naturally  reminds  Nym  of  the  sounding  nonsense  uttered  by 
conjurers.     Stee  v  f.n?  . 

7  —  doting  death  is  near;]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto  has 
groaning  death.     Johnson. 

8  Therefore  exhale.]  Exhale,  1  believe,  here  signifies  draw, 
or,  in  Pistol's  language,  hale  or  lug  out.  The  stage-direction  in 
the  old  quarto,  [They  dravoe.']  confirms  this  explanation. 

Malone. 

"  Therefore  exhale  "  means  only — '  therefore  breathe  your  last, 
or  die,'  a  threat  common  enough  among  dramatick  heroes  of  a 
higher  rank  than  Pistol,  who  only  expresses  this  idea  in  the  fan- 
tastick  language  peculiar  to  his  character. 

In  Chapman's  version  of  the  eighteenth  Iliad,  we  are  told  that 


302  KING  HENRY  V.  act  it. 

Baud.  Hear  me,  hear  me  what  I  say  : — he  that 
strikes  the  first  stroke,  I'll  run  him  up  to  the  hilts, 
as  I  am  a  soldier.  [Draxvs. 

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.  I  will  cut  thy  throat,  one  time  or  other, 
in  fair  terms ;  that  is  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  Coupe  le  gorge,  that's  the  word  ? — I  thee 
defy  again. 

0  hound  of  Crete 9,  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  Tear-sheet  she  by  name,  and  her  espouse  : 

1  have,  and  I  will  hold,  the  quondam  Quickly 
For  the  only  she  ;  and — Pauca,  there's  enough 2. 


"  Twelve  men  of  greatest  strength  in  Troy,  left  with  their 

lives  exhaVd 
"  Their  chariots,"  &c.     Steevens. 
9  O  hound  of  Crete,]     He  means  to  insinuate  that  Nym 
thirsted  for  blood.     The  hounds  of  Crete  described  by  our  author 
in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  appear  to  have  been  bloodhounds. 
See  vol.  v.  p.  289.     Malone. 

This  is  an  ingenious  supposition ;  and  yet  I  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  Pistol  on  the  present,  as  on  many  other  occasions,  makes 
use  of  words  to  which  he  had  no  determinate  meaning. 

Steevens. 

1  —  the  lazar  kite  of  Cressid's  kind,]  The  same  expression 
occurs  in  Green's  Card  of  Fancy,  1601  :  "  What  courtesy  is  to  be 
found  in  such  kites  of  Cressid's  kind?" 

Again,  in  Gascoigne's  Dan  Bartholomew  of  Bathe,  1587  : 
'•  Nor  seldom  seene  in  kites  of  Cressid's  kinde." 

Shakspeare  might  design  a  ridicule  on  the  last  of  these  passages. 

Again,  in  The  Forrest  of  Fancy,  1579  : 

"  For  such  rewardes  they  dayly  fynde 

"  That  fyxe  their  fancy  faithfully 

"  On  any  calte  of  Cressed's  kinde."     Steevens. 

2  —  there's  enough.]  Thus  the  quarto.  The  folio  adds — to  go 
to.     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  V.  303 

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  Bardolph,  put  thy  nose  be- 
tween his  sheets,  and  do  the  office  of  a  warming- 
pan  :  'faith,  he's  very  ill. 

Bard.  Away,  you  rogue. 

Quick.  By  my  troth,  he'll  yield  the  crow  a  pud- 
ding one  of  these  days :  the  king  has  killed  his 
heart. — Good  husband,  come  home  presently. 

[Exeunt  Mrs.  Quickly  and  Boy. 

Baud.  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  ? 

Pist.  Let  floods  o'erswell,  and  fiends  for  food 
howl  on ! 

Nym.  You'll  pay  me  the  eight  shillings  I  won  of 
you  at  betting  ? 

Pist.  Base  is  the  slave  that  pays 4. 

Nym.  That  now  I  will  have  ;  that's  the  humour 
of  it. 

Pist.  As  manhood  shall  compound  ;  Push  home. 

Bard.  By  this  sword,  he  that  makes  the  first 
thrust,  I'll  kill  him  ;  by  this  sword,  I  will. 

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.     Pr'ythee,  put  up. 

J  —  and  you,  hostess ;]  The  folio  has — "  and  your  hostess." 
Corrected  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  The  emendation  is  supported  by 
the  quarto  :  "  Hostess,  you  must  come  straight  to  my  master,  and 
you  host  Pistol."     Malone. 

*  Base  is  the  slave  that  pays.]  Perhaps  this  expression  was  pro- 
verbial. I  meet  with  it  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  West,  by  Hey- 
wood,  1631  : 

'■*  My  motto  shall  be,  Base  is  the  man  that  pays" 

Steevens. 


304  KING  HENRY  V.  act  n. 

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'll  live  by  Nym,  and  Nym  shall  live  by  me ; — 
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  it. 

Reenter  Mrs.  Quickly. 

Quick.  As  ever  you  came  of  women,  come  in 
quickly  to  sir  John  :  Ah,  poor  heart !  he  is  so 
shaked  5  of  a  burning  quotidian  tertian,  that  it  is 
most  lamentable  to  behold.  Sweet  men,  come  to 
him. 

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  live6.  [Exeunt. 

5  — so  shaked  &c]  Thus  Sidney,  in  the  first  book  of  his 
Arcadia  : 

"  And  precious  couches  full  oft  are  shaked  with  a  feaver." 

Steevens. 

6  —  for,  lambkins  we  will  live.]  That  is,  we  will  live  as 
quietly  and  peaceably  together  as  lambkins.  The  meaning  has, 
I  think,  been  obscured  by  a  different  punctuation  :  "  for,  lamb- 
kins, we  will  live."     Malone. 

Lambkins  seems  to  me  a  fantastick  title  by  which  Pistol  ad- 
dresses his  newly-reconciled  friends,  Nym  and  Bardolph.  The 
words — we  will  live,  may  refer  to  what  seems  uppermost  in  his 
head,  his  expected  profits  from  the  camp,  of  which  he  has  just 


sc.  //.  KING  HENRY  V,  305 

SCENE   II. 
Southampton.     A  Council  •  Chamber. 

Enter  Exeter,  Bedford,  and  Westmoreland. 

Bed.  Tore  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  them- 
selves ! 
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  bedfellow7, 

given  them  reason  to  expect  a  share.     I  have  not  therefore  de- 
parted from  the  old  punctuation.     Steevens. 

7  —  that  was  his  bedfellow,]     So,  Holinshed  :  "  The  said 
Lord  Scroop  was  in  such  favour  with  the  king,  that  he  admitted 
him  sometime  to  be  his  bedfellow."     The  familiar  appellation  of 
bedfellow,  which  appears  strange  to  us,  was  common  among  the 
ancient  nobility.     There  is  a  letter  from  the  sixth  Earl  of  North- 
umberland, (still  preserved  in  the  collection  of  the  present  Duke,) 
addressed  "  To  his  beloved  cousyn  Thomas  Arundel,"  &c.  which 
begins,  "  Bedfellow,  after  my  most  harte  recommendaciOn."    So, 
in  a  comedy  called  A  Knack  to  know  a  Knave,  1594? : 
"  Yet,  for  thou  wast  once  bedfellow  to  a  king, 
"  And  that  I  lov'd  thee  as  my  second  self,"  &C. 
Again,  in  Look  About  You,  1600 : 

"  • if  I  not  err 

"  Thou  art  the  prince's  ward. — — 
"  —— —  I  am  his  ward,  chamberlain,  and  bedfellow." 
Again,  in  Cynthia's  Revenge,  1613  : 

"  Her  I'll  bestow,  and  without  prejudice, 
"  On  thee  alone,  my  noble  bedfellow."  Steevens. 
This  unseemly  custom  continued  common  till  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  if  not  later.  Cromwell  obtained  much  of  his  intelli- 
gence during  the  civil  wars  from  the  mean  men  with  whom  he 
slept. — Henry  Lord  Scroop  was  the  third  husband  of  Joan 
Duchess  of  York,  stepmother  of  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge. 

Malone. 
VOL.  XVII.  X 


306  KING  HENRY  V.  act  //. 

Whom   he  hath  cloy'd  and  grac'd8  with  princely 

favours. — 
That  he  should,  for  a  foreign  purse,  so  sell 
His  sovereign's  life  to  death  and  treachery 9 ! 

Trumpet   sounds.      Enter  King   Henry,    Scroop, 
Cambridge,  Grey,  Lords,  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 1  ? 
Scroop.  No  doubt,  my  liege,  if  each  man  do  his 

best. 
K.  Hen.  I  doubt  not  that:  since  we   are  well 
persuaded, 
We  carry  not  a  heart  with  us  from  hence, 
That  grows  not  in  a  fair  concent  with  ours 2 ; 

8  —  cloy'd  and  grac'd — ]      Thus  the  quarto.      The   folio 
reads — "  dull'd  and  cloy'd."  Perhaps  dulld  is  a  mistake  for  dol'd. 

Steevens. 

9  —  to  death  and  treachery !]     Here  the  quartos  insert  a  line 
omitted  in  all  the  following  editions  : 

"  Exe.  O  !  the  lord  of  Masham  !  "     Johnson. 

1  For  which  we  have  in  head  assembled  them  ?]     This  is  not 
English  phraseology.     I  am  persuaded  Shakspeare  wrote  : 

"  For  which  we  have  in  aid  assembled  them  ?  " 
alluding  to  the  tenures  of  those  times.     Warburton. 

It  is  strange  that  the  commentator  should  forget  a  word  so 
eminently  observable  in  this  writer,  as  head  for  an  army  formed. 

Johnson. 
In  head  seems  synonymous  to   the  modern  military  term  in 
force.     Malone. 

2  That   grows  not  in  a  fair   consent   with   ours ;]     So,  in 
Macbeth : 

6 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  307 

Nor  leave  not  one  behind,  that  doth  not  wish 
Success  and  conquest  to  attend  on  us. 

Cam.  Never  was  monarch  better  fear'd,  and  lov'd, 
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.  Even  those,  that  were  your  father's  ene- 
mies, 
Have  steep'd  their  galls  in  honey;  and  do  serve  you 
With  hearts  create3  of  duty  and  of  zeal. 

K.  Hen.  We  therefore  have  great  cause  of  thank- 
fulness ; 
And  shall  forget  the  office  of  our  hand  4, 
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. 

K.  Hen.  We  judge  no  less. — Uncle  of  Exeter, 
Enlarge  the  man  committed  yesterday, 
That  rail'd  against  our  person  :  we  consider, 
It  was  excess  of  wine  that  set  him  on ; 
And,  on  his  more  advice 5,  we  pardon  him. 

Scroop.  That's  mercy,  but  too  much  security : 
Let  him  be  punish'd,  sovereign ;  lest  example 
Breed,  by  his  sufferance,  more  of  such  a  kind. 

"  If  you  shall  cleave  to  my  consent,''  &c. 
Consent  is  union,  party,  &c.     Steevens. 
"  —  in  a  fair  concent — "     In  friendly  concord  ;  in  unison  with 
ours.     See  vol.  xi.  p.  92,  n.  3.     Malone. 

3  —  hearts  create  — ]  Hearts  compounded  or  made  up  of 
duty  and  zeal.     Johnson. 

4  And  shall  forget  the  office  of  our  hand,]  Perhaps  out  author, 
when  he  wrote  this  line,  had  the  fifth  verse  of  the  137th  Psalm  in 
his  thoughts  :  "  If  I  forget  thee,  O  Jerusalem,  let  my  right  hand 

forget  her  cunning."     Steevens. 

5  —  more  advice,]     On  his  return  to  more  coolness  of  mind. 

Johnson. 
See  vol.  iv.  p.  56,  n.  7.     Malone. 

x2 


308  KING  HENRY  V.  act  n. 

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, 
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  6, 
Shall  not  be  wink'd  at,  how  shall  we  stretch  our 

eye  7, 
When  capital  crimes,   chew'd,  swallow'd,  and  di- 
gested, 
Appear  before  us  ? — We'll  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 8  ? 


6  — proceeding  on  distemper,]     i.e.  sudden  passions. 

Warburton. 

Perturbation  of  mind.  Temper  is  equality  or  calmness  of  mind, 
from  an  equipoise  or  due  mixture  of  passions.  Distemper  of  mind 
is  the  predominance  of  a  passion,  as  distemper  of  body  is  the  pre- 
dominance of  a  humour.     Johnson. 

It  has  been  just  said  by  the  king,  that  "  it  was  excess  of  wine 
that  set  him  on,"  and  distemper  may  therefore  mean  intoxication. 
Distemper' d  in  liquor  is  still  a  common  expression.  Chapman,  in 
his  Epicedium  on  the  Death  of  Prince  Henry,  1612,  has  personified 
this  species  of  distemper  : 

"  Frantick  distemper,  and  hare-ey'd  unrest." 

And  Brabantio  says,  that  Roderigo  is — 

"  Full  of  supper  and  distemp'ring  draughts." 

Again,  Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  p.  626  :  "  —  gave  him  wine  and 
strong  drink  in  such  excessive  sort,  that  he  was  therewith  distem- 
pered, and  reel'd  as  he  went."     Steevens. 

7  —  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye,]  If  we  may  not  xuink  at 
small  faults,  hoiv  ivide  must  tve  open  our  eyes  at  great?  Johnson. 

8  Who  are  the  late  commissioners  ?]  That  is,  as  appears  from 
the  sequel,  who  are  the  persons  lately  appointed  commissioners? 

M.  Mason. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  309 

Cam.  I  one,  my  lord  ; 
Your  highness  bade  me  ask  for  it  to-day. 

Scroop.  So  did  you  me,  my  liege. 

Grey.  And  me,  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, — 
We  will  aboard  to-night. — Why,  how  now,  gentle- 
men? 
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  chas'd  your  blood 
Out  of  appearance  ? 

Cam.  I  do  confess  my  fault ; 

And  do  submit  me  to  your  highness'  mercy. 

Grey.  Scroop.  To  which  we  all  appeal. 

K.  Hen.  The  mercy  that  was  quick9  in  us  but  late, 
By  your  own  counsel  is  suppress'd  and  kill'd ; 
You  must  not  dare,  for  shame,  to  talk  of  mercy ; 
For  your  own  reasons  turn  into  your  bosoms, 
As  dogs  upon  their  masters,  worrying  them  *. — 
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  1  with  all  appertinents 
Belonging  to  his  honour ;  and  this  man 
Hath,  for  a  few  light  crowns,  lightly  conspir'd, 
And  sworn  unto  the  practices  of  France, 

*  Folio,  you. 

9  —  quick — ]     That  is,  living.     Johnson. 
1  To  furnish  him  — ]    The  latter  word,  which  is  wanting  in  the 
first  folio,  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second.     M  alone. 


310  KING  HENRY  V.  act  11. 

To  kill  us  here  in  Hampton :  to  the  which, 

This  knight,  no  less  for  bounty  bound  to  us 

Than  Cambridge  is, — hath  likewise  sworn. — But  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  might'st  have  coin'd  me  into  gold, 

Wouldst  thou  have  practis'd  on  me  for  thy  use  ? 

May  it  be  possible,  that  foreign  hire 

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  from  white  \  my  eye  will  scarcely  see  it. 

Treason,  and  murder,  ever  kept  together, 

As  two  yoke-devils  sworn  to  either's  purpose, 

Working  so  grossly 3  in  a  natural  cause, 

That  admiration  did  not  whoop  at  them 2 : 

But  thou,  'gainst  all  proportion,  didst  bring  in 

Wonder  to  wait  on  treason,  and  on  murder : 

And  whatsoever  cunning  fiend  it  was, 

That  wrought  upon  thee  so  preposterously, 

Hath  got  the  voice  in  hell  for  excellence : 

And  other  devils  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 4,  bade  thee  stand  up, 

1  —  though  the  truth  of  it  stands  off  as  gross 

As  black  from  white,]  Though  the  truth  be  as  apparent 
and  visible  as  black  and  white  contiguous  to  each  other.  To  stand 
off"  is  etre  releve,  to  be  prominent  to  the  eye,  as  the  strong  parts 
of  a  picture.     Johnson. 

2  —  whoop  at  them  :]  That  they  excited  no  exclamation  of 
surprise.  Such,  I  think,  is  meant  by  the  word  in  As  You  Like  It : 
"  O  wonderful,  wonderful,  &c.  and  after  that  out  of  all  whoop- 
ing."    See  vol.  vi.  p.  429,  n.  6.     Boswelt.. 

3  — so  grossly — ]  Palpably;  with  a  plain  and  visible  con- 
nection of  cause  and  effect.     Johnson. 

4  —  he,  that  temper'd  thee,,]    Though  temper'd  may  stand  for 


sc.  //.  KING  HENRY  V.  311 

Gave  thee  no  instance  why  thou  should'st  do  trea- 
son, 
Unless  to  dub  thee  with  the  name  of  traitor. 
If  that  same  daemon,  that  hath  gull'd  thee  thus, 
Should  with  his  lion  gait  walk  the  whole  world, 
He  might  return  to  vasty  Tartar 5  back, 
And  tell  the  legions — I  can  never  win 
A  soul  so  easy  as  that  Englishman's. 
O,  how  hast  thou  with  jealousy  infected 
The  sweetness  of  affiance 6 !  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  ? 
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 7 ; 


formed  or  moulded,  yet  I  fancy  tempted  was  the  author's  word,  for 
it  answers  better  to  suggest  in  the  opposition.     Johnson. 

Tempered,  I  believe,  is  the  true  reading,  and  means — rendered 
thee  pliable  to  his  uiill.  FalstafF  says  of  Shallow,  that  he  has  him 
"  tempering  between  his  thumb  and  finger."     Steevens. 

s  —  vasty  Tartar  — ]  i.  e.  Tartarus,  the  fabled  place  of 
future  punishment. 

So,  in  Heywood's  Brazen  Age,  1613  : 

"  With  aconitum  that  in  Tartar  springs."     Steevens. 
Again,  in  The  Troublesome  Raigneof  King  John,  1591  : 
"  And  let  the  black  tormentors  of  black  Tartary, 
"  Upbraide  them  with  this  damned  enterprize."  Malone. 

6  O,  how  hast  thou  with  jealousy  infected 

The  sweetness  of  affiance  !]  Shakspeare  uses  this  aggrava- 
tion of  the  guilt  of  treachery  with  great  judgment.  One  of  the 
worst  consequences  of  breach  of  trust  is  the  diminution  of  that 
confidence  which  makes  the  happiness  of  life,  and  the  dissemina- 
tion of  suspicion,  which  is  the  poison  of  society.     Johnson. 

7  Garnish'd  and  deck'd  in  modest  complement  ;]  Com- 
plement has,  in  this  instance,  the  same  sense  as  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  Act  I.  Complements,  in  the  age  of  Shakspeare, 
meant  the  same  as  accomplishments  in  the  present  one. 

Steevens. 


312  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ji. 

Not  working  with  the  eye  without  the  ear 8, 
And,  but  in  purged  judgment  trusting  neither  ? 
Such  and  so  finely  bolted,  didst  thou  seem9: 
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 ; 
For  this  revolt  of  thine,  methinks,  is  like 
Another  fall  of  man. — Their  faults  are  open, 

See  vol.  iv.  p.  288,  n.  4.  By  the  epithet  modest,  the  king  means 
Jhat  Scroop's  accomplishments  were  not  ostentatiously  displayed, 

Malone. 

8  Not  working  with  the  eye,  without  the  ear,]  The  king  means 
to  say  of  Scroop,  that  he  was  a  cautious  man,  who  knew  that  fronti 
nulla  fides,  that  a  specious  appearance  was  deceitful,  and  there-- 
fore  did  not  "  work  with  the  eye,  without  the  ear,"  did  not  trust 
the  air  or  look  of  any  man  till  he  had  tried  him  by  enquiry  and 
conversation.     Johnson. 

9  —  and  so  finely  bolted,,]  i.  e.  refined  or  purged  from  all 
faults.     Pope. 

Bolted  is  the  same  with  sifted,  and  has  consequently  the  mean- 
ing of  refined.     Johnson. 

1  To  mark  the  full-fraught  man,  and  best  indued,  &c]  Best 
indued  is  a  phrase  equivalent  to — gifted  or  endowed  in  the  most 
extraordinary  manner.     So,  Chapman : 

"  His  pow'rs  with  dreadful  strength  indu'd."     Steevens. 
The  folio,  where  alone  this  line  is  found,  reads  : 

"  To  make  the  full-fraught  man,"  &c. 
The  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald.    Mr.  Pope  endea- 
voured to  obtain  some  sense  by  pointing  thus : 

"  To  make  the  full-fraught  man  and  best,  indu'd 
"  With  some  suspicion." 
But  "  to  make  a  person  indued  with  suspicion,"  does  not  ap- 
pear, to  my  ear  at  least,  like  the  phraseology  of  Shakspeare's  or 
any  other  age.  Make  or  mock  are  so  often  confounded  in  these 
plays,  that  I  once  suspected  that  the  latter  word  might  have  been 
used  here  :  but  this  also  would  be  very  harsh.  The  old  copy  has 
thee  instead  of  the.     The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope. 

Malone, 
Our  author  has  the  same  thought  again  in  Cymbeline : 
"  — —  So  thou,  Posthumus, 
"  Wilt  lay  the  leaven  to  all  proper  men ; 
"  Goodly  and  gallant  shall  be  false  and  perjur'd, 
"  From  thy  great  fall."     Theobald. 


sc.  lh  KING  HENRY  V.  313 

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  Scroop2,  of  Masham. 

I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of 
Thomas  Grey,  knight  of  Northumberland.  * 

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  se- 
duce 3 ; 
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  4, 


2  Henry  lord,  &c]     Thus  the  quarto.     The  folio,  erroneously, 

"  Thomas  lord,"  &c.     Steevens. 

3  For  me, — the  gold  of  France  did  not  seduce  ;]  Holinshed, 
p.  549,  observes  from  Hall,  "  that  diverse  write  that  Richard 
earle  of  Cambridge  did  not  conspire  with  the  lord  Scroope  and 
Thomas  Graie  for  the  murthering  of  king  Henrie  to  please  the 
French  king  withall,  but  onlie  to  the  intent  to  exalt  to  the  crowne 
his  brother-in-law  Edmunde,  earl  of  March,  as  heire  to  Lionell 
duke  of  Clarence :  after  the  death  of  which  earle  of  March,  for 
diverse  secret  impediments  not  able  to  have  issue,  the  earle  of 
Cambridge  was  sure  that  the  crowne  should  come  to  him  by  his 
wife,  and  to  his  children  of  her  begotten.  And  therefore  (as  was 
thought)  he  rather  confessed  himselfe  for  neede  of  monie  to  be 
corrupted  by  the  French  king,  than  he  would  declare  his  inward 
mind,  &c.  which  if  it  were  espied,  he  saw  plainlie  that  the  earle 
of  March  should  have  tasted  of  the  same  cuppe  that  he  had 
drunken,  and  what  should  have  come  to  his  owne  children,  he 
much  doubted,"  &c.     Steevens. 

4  Which  /  in  sufferance  heartily  will  rejoice,]  I,  which  is 
wanting  in  the  old  copy,  was  added  by  the  editor  of  the  second 
folio.  Cambridge  means  to  say,  at  which  prevention,  or,  which 
intended  scheme  that  it  was  prevented,  I  shall  rejoice.  Shak- 
speare  has  many  such  elliptical  expressions.    The  intended  scheme 

7 


314  KTNG  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

Beseeching  God  and  you  to  pardon  me. 

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  enterprize  : 
My  fault5,  but  not  my  body,  pardon,  sovereign. 

K.  Hen.  God  quit  you  in  his  mercy !  Hear  your 
sentence. 
You  have  conspir'd  against  our  royal  person, 
Join'd  with  an  enemy  proclaim'd6,    and  from  his 

coffers 
Receiv'd  the  golden  earnest  of  our  death  ; 
Wherein  you  would  have  sold  your  king  to  slaughter, 
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  three  sought,  that  to  her  laws 
We  do  deliver  you.     Get  you  therefore  hence 7, 
Poor  miserable  wretches,  to  your  death  : 
The  taste  whereof,  God,  of  his  mercy,  give  you 

that  he  alludes  to,  was  the  taking  off  Henry,  to  make  room  for 
his  brother-in-law.     See  the  preceding  note.     Malo'ne. 

*  My  fault,  &c]  One  of  the  conspirators  against  Queen 
Elizabeth,  I  think  Parry,  concludes  his  letter  to  her  with  these 
words  :  "  a  culpa,  but  not  a  poena,  absolve  me,  most  dear  lady." 
This  letter  was  much  read  at  that  time,  [1585,]  and  our  author 
doubtless  copied  it. 

This  whole  scene  was  much  enlarged  and  improved  after  the 
first  edition  ;  the  particular  insertions  in  it  would  be  tedious  to 
mention,  and  tedious  without  much  use.     Johnson. 

The  words  of  Parry's  letter  are,  "  Discharge  me  a  culpd,  but 
not  a  poena,  good  ladie."     Reed. 

6  —  proclaim'd,]  Mr.  Ritson  recommends  the  omission  of 
this  word,  which  deforms  the  measure.     Steevens. 

?  —  Get  you  therefore  hence,]  So,  in  Holinshed  :  "  —  Get 
ye  hence  therefore,  ye  poor  miserable  wretches,  to  the  receiving  of 
your  just  reward  :  wherein  God's  majesty  give  you  grace,"  &c. 

Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  315 

Patience  to  endure,  and  true  repentance 

Of  all  your  dear  offences ! — Bear  them  hence. 

\Exeunt  Conspirators,  guarded. 
Now,  lords,  for  France  ;  the  enterprize  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, 
Putting  it  straight  in  expedition. 
Cheerly  to  sea ;  the  signs  of  war  advance 8 : 
No  king  of  England,  if  not  king  of  France  9. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  III. 

London.     Mrs.  Quickly's  House  in  Eastcheap. 

Enter  Pistol,  Mrs.  Quickly,  Nym,  Bardolph,  and 

Boy. 

Quick.  Pry'thee,  honey-sweet  husband,  let  me 
bring  thee  to  Staines1. 

Pist.  No ;  for  my  manly  heart  doth  yearn. — 

8  —  the  signs  of  war  advance  :]  So,  in  Phaer's  translation 
of  the  first  line  of  the  eighth  book  of  the  iEneid :  "  Ut  belli 
signum,  &c. 

"  When  signe  qfvoar  from  Laurent  towres,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

9  No  king  of  England,  if  not  king  of  France.]  So,  in  the  old 
play  before  that  of  Shakspeare  : 

"  If  not  king  of  France,  then  of  nothing  must  I  be  king  " 

Steevens. 
1  —  let  me  bring  thee  to  Staines.]     i.  e.  let  me  attend,  or 
accompany  thee.     So,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 
"  — . —  give  me  leave,  my  lord, 
"  That  we  may  bring  you  something  on  the  imy."'      Reed 


316  KING  HENRY  V.  act  it, 

Bardolph,    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,  wheresomeer 
he  is,  either  in  heaven,  or  in  hell ! 

Quick.  Nay,  sure,  he's  not  in  hell ;  he's  in  Ar- 
thur's bosom,  if  ever  man  went  to  Arthur's  bosom. 
'A  made  a  finer  end 3,  and  went  away,  an  it  had  been 
any  christom  child 4 ;  'a  parted  even  just  between 

3  — finer  end,]     For  final.     Johnson. 

Every  man  that  dies,  makes  a  final  end;  but  Mrs.  Quickly 
means  to  describe  Falstaff  s  behaviour  at  his  exit,  as  uncommonly 
placid.  "  He  made  a  fine  end,"  is  at  this  day  a  vulgar  expres- 
sion, when  any  person  dies  with  resolution  and  devotion.  So 
Ophelia  says  of  her  father  :  "  They  say,  he  made  a  good  end." 

M.  Mason. 

Again,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  They  say,  he  parted  xvell,  and  paid  his  score  ; 
"  And  so  God  be  with  him  !  " 

Our  author  has  elsewhere  used  the  comparative  for  the  positive. 
See  Macbeth,  vol.  xi.  p.  138,  n.  7,  Mrs.  Quickly,  however,  needs 
no  justification  for  not  adhering  to  the  rules  of  grammar. 

What  seems  to  militate  against  Dr.  Johnson's  interpretation  is, 
that  the  word  final,  which  he  supposes  to  have  been  meant,  is 
rather  too  learned  for  the  Hostess.     Malone. 

*  — an  it  had  been  any  christom  child;]  The  old  quarto 
has  it — "  crisomb'd  child." 

"  The  chrysom  was  no  more  than  the  white  cloth  put  on  the 
new  baptised  child."  See  Johnson's  Canons  of  Eccles.  Law, 
1720. 

I  have  somewhere  (but  cannot  recollect  where)  met  with  this 
further  account  of  it ;  that  the  chrysom  was  allowed  to  be  carried 
out  of  the  church,  to  enwrap  such  children  as  were  in  too  weak  a 
condition  to  be  borne  thither ;  the  chrysom  being  supposed  to 
make  every  place  holy.  This  custom  would  rather  strengthen  the 
allusion  to  the  weak  condition  of  Falstaff. 

The  child  itself  was  sometimes  called  a  chrysom,  as  appeal's 
from  the  following  passage  in  The  Fancies  Chaste  and  Noble, 
1638  :  •'  —  the  boy  surely  I  ever  said  was  a  very  chrisome  in  the 
thing  you  wot." 

Again,  in  The  Wits,  by  Sir  W.  D'Avenant,  1637  : 

" and  would'st  not  join  thy  halfpenny 

"  To  send  for  milk  for  the  poor  chrysome." 

Again,  in  Sir  W.  D'Avenant's  Just  Italian,  1630 : 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  317 

twelve  and  one,  e'en  at  turning  o*  the  tide 5 :  for 
after  I  saw  him  fumble  with  the  sheets6,  and  play 

"  — —  and  they  do  awe 
"  The  chrysome  babe." 

Again,  and  more  appositely,  in  his  Albovine,  1629  :  "  Sir,  I 
would  fain  depart  in  quiet,  like  other  young  chrysomes."  Again, 
in  Your  Five  Gallants,  by  Middleton  :  "  —  a  fine  old  man  to  his 
father,  it  would  kill  his  heart  i'  faith  ;  he'd  axvay  like  achrysom." 

Steevens. 

In  the  Liturgy,  2  E  VI.  Form  of  Private  Baptism,  is  this  direc- 
tion :  "  Then  the  minister  shall  put  the  white  vesture,  commonly 
called  the  chrysome,  upon  the  child,"  &c.  The  Glossary  of  Du 
Cange,  vide  Chrismale,  explains  this  ceremony  thus :  "  Quippe 
olim  ut  et  hodie,  baptizatorum,  statim  atque  chrismate  in  fronte 
ungebantur,  ne  chrisma  dejiueret,  capita  panno  candido  obvolve- 
bantur,  qui  octava  demum  die  ab  iis  auferebatur."  During  the 
time  therefore  of  their  wearing  this  vesture,  the  children  were,  I 
suppose,  called  chrisomes.  One  is  registered  under  this  descrip- 
tion in  the  register  of  Thatcham,  Berks,  1605.  (Hearne's  Ap- 
pendix to  the  History  of  Glastonbury,  p.  275.)  "  A  younge  crisome 
being  a  man  child,  beinge  found  drowned,"  &c.     Tyrwhitt. 

The  chrisom  is  properly  explained  as  the  white  garment  put 
upon  the  child  at  its  baptism.  And  this  the  child  wore  till  the 
time  the  mother  came  to  be  churched,  who  was  then  to  offer  it  to 
the  minister.  So  that,  truly  speaking,  a  chrisom  child  was  one 
that  died  after  it  had  been  baptized,  and  before  its  mother  was 
churched.  Erroneously,  however,  it  was  used  for  children  that 
die  before  they  are  baptized ;  and  by  this  denomination  such 
children  were  entered  in  the  bills  of  mortality  down  to  the  year 
1726.  But  have  I  not  seen,  in  some  edition,  christom  child?  If 
that  reading  were  supported  by  any  copy  of  authority,  I  should 
like  it  much.  It  agrees  better  with  my  dame's  enunciation,  who 
was  not  very  likely  to  pronounce  a  hard  word  with  propriety,  and 
who  just  before  had  called  Abraham — Arthur.     Whalley. 

Mr.  Whalley  is  right  in  his  conjecture.  The  first  folio  reads— 
christom.  Blount,  in  his  Glossography,  1678,  says,  that  chrisoms 
in  the  bills  of  mortality  are  such  children  as  die  within  the  month 
of  birth,  because  during  that  time  they  use  to  wear  the  chrisom- 
cloth.     Malone. 

s  — turning  o*  the  tide:]  It  has  been  a  very  old  opinion, 
which  Mead,  de  imperio  solis,  quotes,  as  if  he  believed  it,  that 
nobody  dies  but  in  the  time  of  ebb :  half  the  deaths  in  London 
confute  the  notion  ;  but  we  find  that  it  was  common  among  the 
women  of  the  poet's  time.     Johnson. 

6  —  fumble  with  the  sheets,]  This  passage  is  burlesqued  by 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  in  The  Captain : 


318  KING  HENRY  V.  act  u. 

with  flowers,  and  smile  upon  his  finger's  ends,  I 
knew  there  was  but  one  way 7 ;  for  his  nose  was  as 
sharp  as  a  pen,  and  'a  babbled  of  green  fields8. 


"  1.  How  does  my  master? 

"  2.  Faith,  he  lies  drawing  on  apace. 

"  1.  That's  an  ill  sign. 

"  2.  And  fumbles  with  the  pots  too. 

"  1.  Then  there's  no  way  but  one  with  him." 
In  the  spurious  play  of  King  John,  1611,  when  Faulconbridge 
sees  that  prince  at  the  point  of  death,  he  says  : 

"  O  piercing  sight !  he  fumbleth  in  the  mouth, 

"  His  speech  doth  fail — ." 
And  Pliny,  in  his  Chapter  on  The  Signs  of  Death,  makes  men- 
tion of  "  a.  Jumbling  and  pleiting  of  the  bed-cloths."  See  P. 
Holland's  translation,  chap.  li.  So  also,  in  The  Ninth  Booke  of 
Notable  Thinges,  by  Thomas  Lupton,  4to.  bl.  1. :  *  If  the  fore- 
heade  of  the  sicke  waxe  redde — and  his  nose  waxe  sharpe — if  he 
pull  strawes,  or  the  cloathes  of  his  bedde — these  are  most  certain 
tokens  of  death."     Steevens. 

There  is  this  expression,  and  not,  I  believe,  designed  as  a  sneer 
on  Shakspeare,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Spanish  Curate, 
Act  IV.  Sc.  V. : 

"  A  glimmering  before  death,  'tis  nothing  else,  sir ; 

"  Do  you  see  how  he  Jumbles  with  the  sheets?  "  Wh  alley. 
The  same  indication  of  approaching  death  is  enumerated  by 
Celsus,  Lommius,  Hippocrates,  and  Galen.  The  testimony  of  the 
latter  is  sufficient  to  show  that  such  a  symptom  is  by  no  means 
imaginary :  "  Manus  ante  faciem  attollere,  muscas  quasi  venari 
inani  opera,  floccos  carpere  de  vestibus,  vel  pariete.  Et  in  se- 
ipso  hoc  expertus  fuit  Galenus.  Quum  enim,"  &c.  Van  Swieten 
Comm.  torn.  ii.  sect.  708.     Collins. 

7  I  knew  there  was  but  one  way ;]  I  believe  this  phrase  is 
proverbial.  I  meet  with  it  again  in  If  You  Know  Not  Me,  You 
Know  Nobody,  1613  : 

"  I  heard  the  doctors  whisper  it  in  secret, 
"  There  is  no  way  but  one" 
Again,  in  The  Life  and  Death  of  Gamaliel  Ratsey,  1605 : 
"  But  now  the  courtier  is  in  huckster's  handling,  there  is  no  way 
with  him  but  one,  for  Ratsey  seizes  both  on  his  money  and 
books."  Again,  in  P.  Holland's  translation  of  the  13th  book  of 
Pliny's  Natural  History :  "  The  leafe  also  is  venomous  as  the 
graine,  yet  otherwhiles  there  ensueth  thereof  a  fluxe  and  gurrie  of 
the  belly,  which  saveth  their  life,  or  else  there  were  no  way  but 
one."     Steevens. 

8  —  and  'a  babbled  of  green  fields.]     The  old  copy  [i.  e.  the 


sc.m.  KING  HENRY  V.  319 

How  now,  sir  John  ?  quoth  I :  what,  man  !  be  of 
good  cheer.      So  'a  cried  out — God,   God,  God ! 

first  folio,]  reads — "  for  his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a  pen,  and  a 
table  of  green  fields."     Steevens. 

These  words,  "  and  a  table  of  green  fields,"  are  not  to  be  found 
in  the  old  editions  of  1600  and  1608.  This  nonsense  got  into  all 
the  following  editions  by  a  pleasant  mistake  of  the  stage  editors, 
who  printed  from  the  common  piece-meal  written  parts  in  the 
play-house.  A  table  was  here  directed  to  be  brought  in,  (it  being 
a  scene  in  a  tavern  where  they  drink  at  parting,)  and  this  direc- 
tion crept  into  the  text  from  the  margin.  Greenfield  was  the 
name  of  the  property-man  in  that  time,  who  furnished  implements, 
&c.  for  the  actors,  A  table  of  Greenfield's.     Pope. 

So  reasonable  an  account  of  this  blunder,  Mr.  Theobald  could 
not  acquiesce  in.  He  thought  a  table  of  Greenfield s,  part  of  the 
text,  only  corrupted,  and  that  it  should  be  read,  "  he  babbled  of 
green  fields,"  because  men  do  so  in  the  ravings  of  a  calenture. 
But  he  did  not  consider  how  ill  this  agrees  with  the  nature  of  the 
knight's  illness,  who  was  now  in  no  babbling  humour ;  and  so  far 
from  wanting  cooling  in  green  fields,  that  his  feet  were  very  cold, 
and  he  just  expiring.     Warburton. 

Upon  this  passage  Mr.  Theobald  has  a  note  that  fills  a  page, 
which  I  omit  in  pity  to  my  readers,  since  he  only  endeavours  to 
prove  what  I  think  every  reader  perceives  to  be  true,  that  at  this 
time  no  table  could  be  wanted.'  Mr.  Pope,  in  an  appendix  to  his 
own  edition  in  12mo.  seems  to  admit  Theobald's  emendation, 
which  we  would  have  allowed  to  be  uncommonly  happy,  had  we 
not  been  prejudiced  against  it  by  Mr.  Pope's  first  note,  with  which, 
as  it  excites  merriment,  we  are  loath  to  part.     Johnson. 

Had  the  former  editors  been  apprized,  that  table,  in  our  au- 
thor, signifies  a  pocket-book,  I  believe  they  would  have  retained  it 
with  the  following  alteration  : — "  for  his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a 

pen  upon  a  table  of  green  fells." On  table -books,  silver  or  steel 

pens,  very  sharp-pointed,  were  formerly  and  still  are  fixed  to 
the  backs  or  covers.  Mother  Quickly  compares  Falstaff's  nose 
(which  in  dying  persons  grows  thin  and  sharp)  to  one  of  those 
pens,  very  properly,  and  she  meant  probably  to  have  said,  on  a 
table-book  with  a  shagreen  cover  or  shagreen  table ;  but,  in  her 
usual  blundering  way,  she  calls  it  a  table  of  green  Jells,  or  a  table 
covered  with  green  skin;  which  the  blundering  transcriber  turned 
into  green  fields  ;  and  our  editors  have  turned  the  prettiest  blun- 
der in  Shakspeare,  quite  out  of  doors.     Smith. 

Dr.  Warburton  objects  to  Theobald's  emendation,  on  the 
ground  of  the  nature  of  Falstaff's  illness  ;  "  who  was  so  far  from 
babbling,  or  wanting  cooling  in  green  fiehls,   that  his  feet  were 


320  KING  HENRY  V.  act  u. 

three  or  four  times :  now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid 
him,  'a  should  not  think  of  God  9 ;  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  so  upward,  and  upward,  and  all  was 
as  cold  as  any  stone  *. 

cold,  and  he  was  just  expiring."  But  his  disorder  had  been  a 
'*  burning  quotidian  tertian."  It  is,  I  think,  a  much  stronger 
objection,  that  the  word  Table,  with  a  capital  letter,  (for  so  it  ap- 
pears in  the  old  copy,)  is  very  unlikely  to  have  been  printed  in- 
stead of  babbled.  This  reading  is,  however,  preferable  to  any 
that  has  been  yet  proposed. 

On  this  difficult  passage  I  had  once  a  conjecture.  It  was,  that 
the  word  table  is  right,  and  that  the  corrupted  word  is  and,  which 
may  have  been  misprinted  for  in ;  a  mistake  that  has  happened 
elsewhere  in  these  plays  :  and  thus  the  passage  will  run — "  and 
his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a  pen  in  a  table  of  green  fields."  A  pen 
may  have  been  used  for  a  pinfold,  and  stable  for  a  picture.  See 
vol.  x.  p.  315,  n.  7. 

The  pointed  stakes  of  which  pinfolds  are  sometimes  formed, 
were  perhaps  in  the  poet's  thoughts.     Malone.  * 

It  has  been  observed  (particularly  by  the  superstition  of  women) 
of  people  near  death,  when  they  are  delirious  by  a  fever,  that  they 
talk  of  removing ;  as  it  has  of  those  in  a  calenture,  that  they  have 
their  heads  run  on  green  fields.     Theobald. 

9  —  now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid  him,  'a  should  not  think  of 
God ;  &c]  Perhaps  Shakspeare  was  indebted  to  the  following 
story  in  Wits,  Fits,  and  Fancies,  &c.  1595,  for  this  very  charac- 
teristick  exhortation  :  "  A  gentlewoman  fearing  to  be  drowned, 
said,  now  Jesu  receive  our  soules  !  Soft,  mistress,  answered  the 
waterman  ;  /  trotv,  tve  are  not  come  to  that  passe  yet."     Malone. 

Our  author  might  as  probably  have  been  indebted  to  a  passage 
in  the  Continuation  of  Harding's  Chronicle,  154:3,  relative  to  the 
death  of  Lord  Hastings  :  "  This  Sir  Thomas  [Howard]  while  the 
Lord  Hastings  stayed  a  while  commonyng  with  a  priest  whom  he 
met  in  the  Tower  strete,  brake  the  lordes  tale,  saying  to  him 
merily, — what  my  lorde,  I  pray  you  come  on  ;  wherefore  talke  you 
so  long  with  the  priest  ?      You  have  no  nede  of  a  priest  yet." 

Steevens. 

1  —  cold  as  any  stone.]  Such  is  the  end  of  Falstaff,  from 
whom  Shakspeare  had  promised  us,  in  his  epilogue  to  King 
Henry  IV.  that  we  should  receive  more  entertainment.     It  hap- 


sc.  m.  KING  HENRY  V.  321 

Nym.  They  say,  he  cried  out  of  sack. 

Quick.  Ay,  that  'a  did. 

Bard.  And  of  women. 

Quick.  Nay,  that  'a  did  not. 

Boy.  Yes,  that  'a  did ;  and  said,  they  were  devils 
incarnate. 

Quick.  'A  could  never  abide  carnation 2 ;  'twas  a 
colour  he  never  liked. 

Boy.  'A  said  once,  the  devil  would  have  him 
about  women. 


pened  to  Shakspeare,  as  to  other  writers,  to  have  his  imagination 
crouded  with  a  tumultuary  confusion  of  images,  which,  while 
they  were  yet  unsorted  and  unexamined,  seemed  sufficient  to 
furnish  a  long  train  of  incidents,  and  a  new  variety  of  merriment ; 
but  which,  when  he  was  to  produce  them  to  view,  shrunk  sud- 
denly from  him,  or  could  not  be  accommodated  to  his  general 
design.  That  he  once  designed  to  have  brought  FalstafF  on  the 
scene  again,  we  know  from  himself;  but  whether  he  could  con- 
trive no  train  of  adventures  suitable  to  his  character,  or  could 
match  him  with  no  companions  likely  to  quicken  his  humour,  or 
could  open  no  new  vein  of  pleasantry,  and  was  afraid  to  continue 
the  same  strain  lest  it  should  not  find  the  same  reception,  he  has 
here  for  ever  discarded  him,  and  made  haste  to  despatch  him, 
perhaps  for  the  same  reason  for  which  Addison  killed  Sir  Roger, 
that  no  other  hand  might  attempt  to  exhibit  him. 

Let  meaner  authors  learn  from  this  example,  that  it  is  danger- 
ous to  sell  the  bear  which  is  yet  not  hunted  ;  to  promise  to  the 
publick  what  they  have  not  written. 

This  disappointment  probably  inclined  Queen  Elizabeth  to 
command  the  poet  to  produce  him  once  again,  and  to  show  him 
in  love  or  courtship.  This  was,  indeed,  a  new  source  of  humour, 
and  produced  a  new  play  from  the  former  characters.      Johnson. 

r  —  incarnate. carnation  ;]  Mrs.  Quickly  blunders,  mis- 
taking the  word  incarnate  for  a  colour.  In  Questions  of  Love, 
1566,  we  have,  "  Yelowe,  pale,  redde,  blue,  whyte,  graye,  and 
incarnate."     Henderson. 

Again,  in  the  Inventory  of  the  Furniture  to  be  provided  for  the 
Reception  of  the  Royal  Family,  at  the  Restoration,  1660,  we 
find—"  For  repairing,  with  some  additions,  of  the  rich  incarnate 
velvet  bed,  being  for  the  reception  of  his  majesty,  before  the  other 
can  be  made,  101."  Again, — "  For  12  new  fustian  and  Holland 
quilts  for  his  majesty's  incarnate  velvet  bed  and  the  two  dukes 
beds,  481."     Parliamentary  History,  vol.  xxii.  p.  306.     Reed. 

VOL.  XVII.  Y 


322  KING  HENRY  V.  act  n. 

Quick.  'A  did  in  some  sort,  indeed,  handle  wo- 
men :  but  then  he  was  rheumatick 3 ;  and  talked 
of  the  whore  of  Babylon. 

Boy.  Do  you  not  remember,  'a  saw  a  flea  stick 
upon  Bardolph'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. 

Nym.  Shall  we  shog  off;  the  king  will  be  gone 
from  Southampton. 

Pist.  Come,  let's  away. — My  love,  give  me  thy 
lips. 
Look  to  my  chattels,  and  my  moveables : 
Let  senses  rule 4 ;  the  word  is,  Pitch  and  pay 5; 
Trust  none ; 

5  —  rheumatick  ;]  This  word  is  elsewhere  used  by  our  author 
for  peevish,  or  splenetick,  as  scorbuiico  is  in  Italian.  See  p.  75, 
Mrs.  Quickly  however  probably  means  lunatich.     Malone. 

4  Let  senses  rule ;]     I  think  this  is  wrong,  but  how  to  reform 
it  I  do  not  see.     Perhaps  we  may  read  : 
"  Let  sense  us  rule." 

Pistol  is  taking  leave  of  his  wife,  and  giving  her  advice  as  he 
kisses  her ;  he  sees  her  rather  weeping  than  attending,  and,  sup- 
posing that  in  her  heart  she  is  still  longing  to  go  with  him  part 
of  the  way,  he  cries,  "  Let  sense  us  rule,"  that  is,  '  let  us  not 
give  way  to  foolish  fondness,  but  be  ruled  by  our  better  under- 
standing.' He  then  continues  his  directions  for  her  conduct  in 
his  absence.     Johnson. 

"  Let  senses  rule  "  evidently  means,  let  prudence  govern  you  : 
conduct  yourself  sensibly  ;  and  it  agrees  with  what  precedes  and 
what  follows.  Mr.  M.  Mason  would  read — "  Let  sentences  rule  ;  " 
by  which  he  means  sayings,  or  proverbs  ;  and  accordingly  (says 
he)  Pistol  gives  us  a  string  of  them  in  the  remainder  of  his  speech. 

Steevens. 

s  —  Pitch  and  pay  ;]  The  caution  was  a  very  proper  one  to 
Mrs.  Quickly,  who  had  suffered  before,  by  letting  Falstaff  run  in 
her  debt.  The  same  expression  occurs  in  Blurt  Master  Constable, 
1602  :  "  I  will  commit  you,  signior,  to  my  house ;  but  will  you 
pitch  and  pay,  or  will  your  worship  run — ?  " 

So  again,  in  Herod  and  Antipater,  1622  : 

" he  that  will  purchase  this, 

"  Must  pitch  and  pay." 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  323 

For  oaths  are  straws,  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes, 
And  hold-fast  is  the  only  dog 6,  my  duck ; 
Therefore,  caveto  be  thy  counsellor7. 
Go,  clear  thy  chrystals 8. — Yoke -fellows  in  arms, 
Let  us  to  France  !  like  horse-leeches,  my  boys ; 
To  suck,  to  suck,  the  very  blood  to  suck ! 

Boy.  And  that  is  but  unwholesome  food,  they  say, 
Pist.  Touch  her  soft  mouth,  and  march. 


Again,  in  The  Mastive,  an  ancient  collection  of  epigrams : 

" Susan,  when  she  first  bore  sway, 

"  Had  for  one  night  a  French  crown,  pitch  and  pay" 

Steevens. 
Old  Tusser,  in  his  description  of  Norwich,  tells  us  it  is 

"  A  city  trim 

"  Where  strangers  well,  may  seeme  to  dwell, 
"  That  pitch  and  paie,  or  keepe  their  daye." 
John  Florio  says,  "  Pitch  and  paie,  and  go  your  wale." 
One  of  the  old  laws  of  Blackwell-hall  was,  that  "a. penny  be 
paid  by  the  owner  of  every  bale  of  cloth  for  pitching."     Farmer. 
6  And   hold-fast  is  the  only  dog,]     Alluding  to  the  pro- 
verbial saying — "  Brag  is  a  good  dog,  but  holdfast  is  a  better." 

Douce. 
i  Therefore,  caveto  be  thy  counsellor.]      The  old  quartos 
read: 

"  Therefore  Cophetua  be  thy  counsellor."     Steevens. 
The  reading  of  the  text  is  that  of  the  folio.     Malone. 
8  — clear  thy  chrystals.]     Dry  thine  eyes  :  but  I  think  it 
may  better  mean,  in  this  place,  tuash  thy  glasses.     Johnson. 

The  first  explanation  is  certainly  the  true  one.     So,  in  The 
Gentleman  Usher,  by  Chapman,  1602  : 
"  '         an  old  wife's  eye 
"  Is  a  blue  chrystal  full  of  sorcery." 
Again,  in  A  Match  at  Midnight,  1633  : 

'* ten  thousand  Cupids 

"  Methought,  sat  playing  on  that  pair  of  chrystals. " 
Again,  in  The  Double  Marriage,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 

" sleep,  you  sweet  glasses, 

"  An  everlasting  slumber  close  those  chrystals  !  " 
Again,  in  Coriolanus,  Act  III.  Sc.  II. : 

"  The  glasses  of  my  sight." 
The  old  quartos,  1600  and  1608,  read  : 

"  Clear  up  thy  chrvstals."     Steevens. 
Y  2 


324  KING  HENRY  V.  act  u. 

Bard.  Farewell,  hostess.  [Kissing  her. 

Nym.  I  cannot  kiss,  that  is  the  humour  of  it ; 
but  adieu. 

Pist.   Let  housewifery  appear;   keep  close9,    I 

thee  command. 
Quick.  Farewell;  adieu.  [Exeunt. 

9  —  keep  close,]     The  quartos  1600  and  1608  read : 

" keep  fast  thy  buggle  boe ;  " 

Which  certainly  is  not  nonsense,  as  the  same  expression  is  used 
by  Shirley,  in  his  Gentleman  of  Venice  : 
"  — i —  the  courtisans  of  Venice, 
"  Shall  keep  their  bugle  botves  for  thee,  dear  uncle." 
Perhaps,  indeed,  it  is  a  Scotch  term  ;  for  in  Ane  veiy  excellent 
and  delectabill  Treatise  intitulit  Philotus,  &c.  printed  at  Edin- 
burgh, 1603,  I  find  it  again  : 

"What  reck  to  tak  the  bogill-bo, 
"  My  bonie  burd,  for  anes." 
The  reader  may  suppose  buggle-boe  to  be  just  what  he  pleases. 

Steevens. 
Whatever  covert  sense  Pistol  may  have  annexed  to  this  word,  it 
appears  from  Cole's  Latin  Dictionary,  1678,  that  "  bogle-bo " 
(now  corruptly  sounded  bugabovo)  signified  '  an  ugly  wide-mouthed 
picture,  carried  about  with  May-games.'  Cole  renders  it  by  the 
Latin  words,  manducus  terriculamentum.  The  interpretation  of 
the  former  word  has  been  just  given.  The  latter  he  renders  thus  ; 
"  A  terrible  spectacle  ;  a  fearful  thing ;  a  scare-crow."     T.  C. 

An  anonymous  writer  supposes  that  by  the  words — "  keep 
close,"  Pistol  means,  '  keep  within  doors.'  That  this  was  not  the 
meaning,  is  proved  decisively  by  the  words  of  the  quarto. 

Malone. 
Perhaps,  the  words — "keep  close,"  were  rendered  perfectly  in- 
telligible by  the  action  that  accompanied  them  on  the  stage. 

Steevens. 
The  inquisitive  reader  will  best  collect  the  sense  in  which  buggle 
boe  is  here  used,  from  a  perusal  of  La  Fontaine's  tale  of  Le  Diable 
de  Pape-Figuiere.    Douce. 


sc.  iv.  .    KING  HENRY  V.  325 

SCENE  IV. 

France.     A  Room  in  the  French  King's  Palace. 

Enter  the  French  King  attended;  the  Dauphin, 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  Constable,  and 
Others. 

Fr.  King.    Thus  come    the    English    with  full 
power  upon  us ; 
And  more  than  carefully  it  us  concerns *, 
To  answer  royally  in  our  defences. 
Therefore  the  dukes  of  Berry,  and  of  Bretagne, 
Of  Brabant,  and  of  Orleans,  shall  make  forth, — 
And  you,  prince  Dauphin, — with  all  swift  despatch, 
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  gulph. 
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 2, 
(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. 


1  And  more  than  carefully  it  us  concerns,]  "  More  than 
carefully  "  is  •  with  more  than  common  care  ;  *  a  phrase  of  the 
same  kind  with  "  better  than  well."     Johnson. 

2  —  so  dull  a  kingdom,]  i.  e.  render  it  callous,  insensible. 
So,  in  Hamlet : 

"  But  do  not  dull  thy  palm,"  &c.     Steevens. 


326  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ii. 

Therefore,  I  say,  'tis  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  3  with  a  Whitsun  morris  dance : 

For,  my  good  liege,  she  is  so  idly  king'd 4, 

Her  scepter  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 5 : 
Question  your  grace  the  late  ambassadors, — 
With  what  great  state  he  heard  their  embassy, 
How  well  supplied  with  noble  counsellors, 
How  modest  in  exception6,  and,  withal, 
How  terrible  in  constant  resolution, — 
And  you  shall  find,  his  vanities  forespent 
Were  but  the  outside  of  the  Roman  Brutus, 
Covering  discretion  with  a  coat  of  folly 7 ; 

3  Were  busied — ]     The  quarto,  1600,  reads — were  troubled. 

Steevens. 

4  —  so  idly  king'd,]  Shakspeare  is  not  singular  in  his  use  of 
this  verb — to  kifig.  I  find  it  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  b.  viii. 
c.  xlii. : 

"         ■  and  king'd  his  sister's  son."     Steevens. 

5  You  are  too  much  mistaken  in  this  king :]  This  part  is  much 
enlarged  since  the  first  writing.     Pope. 

6  How  modest  in  exception,]  How  diffident  and  decent  in 
making  objections.     Johnson. 

?  And  you  shall  find,  his  vanities  fore-spent 

Were  but  the  outside  of  the  Roman  Brutus, 

Covering  discretion  with  a  coat  of  folly  ;]  Shakspeare 
not  having  given  us,  in  the  First  or  Second  Part  of  Henry  IV.  or 
in  any  other  place  but  this,  the  remotest  hint  of  the  circumstance 
here  alluded  to,  the  comparison  must  needs  be  a  little  obscure  to 
those  who  do  not  know  or  reflect  that  some  historians  have  told 
us,  that  Henry  IV.  had  entertained  a  deep  jealousy  of  his  son's 
aspiring  superior  genius.  Therefore,  to  prevent  all  umbrage,  the 
prince  withdrew  from  public  affairs,  and  amused  himself  in  con- 
sorting with  a  dissolute  crew  of  robbers.  It  seems  to  me,  that 
Shakspeare  was  ignorant  of  this  circumstance  when  he  wrote  the 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  327 

As  gardeners  do  with  ordure  hide  those  roots 
That  shall  first  spring,  and  be  most  delicate. 

Dau.  Well,  'tis  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 ; 


two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  for  it  might  have  been  so  managed  as  to 
have  given  new  beauties  to  the  character  of  Hal,  and  great  im- 
provements to  the  plot.  And  with  regard  to  these  matters,  Shak- 
speare  generally  tells  us  all  he  knew,  and  as  soon  as  he  knew  it. 

Warburton. 
Dr.  Warburton,  as  usual,  appears  to  me  to  refine  too  much.     I 
believe,  Shakspeare  meant  no  more  than  that  Henry,  in  his  exter- 
nal appearance,  was  like  the  elder  Brutus,  wild  and  giddy,  while  in 
fact  his  understanding  was  good. 

Our  author's  meaning  is  sufficiently  explained  by  the  following 
lines  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece,  1594  : 

"  Brutus,  who  pluck'd  the  knife  from  Lucrece'  side, 

"  Seeing  such  emulation  in  their  woe, 

"  Began  to  clothe  his  wit  in  state  and  pride, 

"  Burying  in  Lucrece'  wound  h'isfolly's  show. 

"  He  with  the  Romans  was  esteemed  so, 

"  As  silly-jeering  ideots  are  with  kings, 

'*  For  sportive  words,  and  uttering  foolish  things. 

"  But  now  he  throws  that  shallow  habit  by, 
"  Wherein  deep  policy  did  him  disguise ; 
"  And  arm'd  his  long-hid  wits  advisedly, 
"  To  check  the  tears  in  Collatinus'  eyes." 
Thomas  Otterbourne,  and  the  translator  of  Titus  Livius,  indeed, 
say,  that  Henry  the  Fourth,  in  his  latter  days,  was  jealous  of  his 
son,  and  apprehended  that  he  would  attempt  to  depose  him ;  to 
remove  which  suspicion,  the  prince  is  said  (from  the  relation  of  an 
earl  of  Ormond,  who  was  an  eye  witness  of  the  fact,)  to  have  gone 
with  a  great  party  of  his  friends  to  his  father,  in  the  twelfth  year 
of  his  reign,  and  to  have  presented  him  with  a  dagger,  which  he 
desired  the  king  to  plunge  into  his  breast,  if  he  still  entertained 
any  doubts  of  his  loyalty :  but,  I  believe,  it  is  no  where  said,  that 
he  threw  himself  into  the  company  of  dissolute  persons  to  avoid 
giving  umbrage   to  his   father,   or  betook   himself  to  irregular 
courses  with  a  political  view  of  quieting  his  suspicions.     Malone. 
The  best  comment  on  this  passage  will  be  found  in  P.  Henry's 
soliloquy  in  the  first  part  of  Henry  the  IV.  vol.  xvi.  p.  206. 

Boswell. 


328  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ii. 

Which,  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection  8, 
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 ; 
And  he  is  bred  out  of  that  bloody  strain 9, 
That  haunted  us *  in  our  familiar  paths : 
Witness  our  too  much  memorable  shame, 
When  Cressy  battle  fatally  was  struck  '\ 


8  Which,  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection,]  This  passage, 
as  it  stands,  is  so  perplexed,tfhat  I  formerly  suspected  it  to  be  cor- 
rupt. If  which  be  referred  to  proportions  of  defence,  (and  I  do  not 
see  to  what  else  it  can  be  referred,)  the  construction  will  be— 
"  which  proportions  of  defence,  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection, 
spoils  his  coat,  like  a  miser,"  &c. 

If  our  author  had  written — 

"  While  oft  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection 
"  Doth,"  &c. 
The  reasoning  would  then  be  clear. — In  cases  of  defence,  it  is 
best  to  imagine  the  enemy  more  powerful  than  he  seems  to  be  ;  by 
this  means,  we  make  more  full  and  ample  preparations  to  defend 
ourselves  :  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  a  poor  and  mean  idea  of  the 
enemy's  strength  induces  us  to  make  but  a  scanty  provision  of 
forces  against  him  ;  wherein  we  act  as  a  miser  does,  who  spoils  his 
coat  by  scanting  of  cloth. 

Projection,  I  believe,  is  here  used  for  fore-cast  or preconception. 
It  may,  however,  mean  preparation. 

Perhaps,  in  Shakspeare's  licentious  diction,  the  meaning  maybe 
— "  Which  proportions  of  defence,  when  weakly  and  niggardly 
projected,  resemble  a  miser  who  spoils  his  coat,"  &c.  The  false 
concord  is  no  objection  to  such  a  construction  ;  for  the  same  inac- 
curacy is  found  in  almost  every  page  of  the  old  copy.     Malone. 

9  —  strain,]     Lineage.     So,  in  King  Lear : 

"  Sir,  you  have  shown  to-day  your  valiant  strain." 

Steevens. 
1  That  haunted  us  — ]     To  haunt  is  a  word  of  the  utmost 
horror,  which  shows  that  they  dreaded  the  English  as  goblins  and 
spirits.     Johnson. 

*  When  Cressy  battle  fatally  was  struck,]  So,  in  Robert 
of  Gloucester : 

"  ——and  that  fole  of  Somersete  — 
"  His  come,  and  smyte  a  batayle." 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  329 

And  all  our  princes  captiv'd,  by  the  hand 

Of  that  black  name,  Edward  black  prince  of  Wales ; 

Whiles   that    his    mountain  lire, — on    mountain 

standing J,  W: 

Up  in  the  air,  crown'd  with  the  golden  sun 4, — 
Saw  his  heroical  seed,  and  smil'd  to  see  him 
Mangle  the  work  of  nature,  and  deface 

Again,  in  the  title  to  one  of  Sir  David  Lyndsay's  poems  :  ' '  How 
king  Ninus  began  the  first  warres  and  stroke  the  first  battell." 

Steevens. 
3  Whiles  that  his  mountain  sire, — on  mountain   standing,] 
Mr.  Theobald  would  read — mounting  ;  i.e.  high-minded,  aspiring. 
Thus,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  IV. : 

"  Whoe'er  he  was,  he  show'd  a  mounting  mind." 
The  emendation  may  be  right,  and  yet  I  believe  the  poet  meant 
to  give  an  idea  of  more  than  human  proportion  in  the  figure  of  the 
king : 

Quantus  Athos,  aut  quantus  Eryx,  &c.     Virg. 
'*  Like  Teneriffe  or  Atlas  unremov'd."     Milton. 
Drayton,  in  the  18th  Song  of  his  Polyolbion,  has  a  similar 
thought : 

"  Then  he  above  them  all,  himself  that  sought  to  raise, 
"  Upon  some  mountain  top,  like  a  pyramides." 
Again,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b.  i.  c.  xi. : 

"  Where  stretch*d  he  lay  upon  the  sunny  side 
"  Of  a  great  hill,  himself  like  a  great  hill." 
— - —  agmen  agens,  magnique  ipse  agminis  instar. 
Mr.  Toilet  thinks  this  passage  may  be  explained  by  another  in 
Act  I.  Sc.  I. : 

" his  most  mightu  father  on  a  hill."     Steevens. 

If  the  text  is  not  corrupt,  Mr.  Steevens's  explication  is  the  true 
one.  See  the  extract  from  Holinshed,  p.  272,  n.  2.  The  repeti- 
tion of  the  word  mountain  is  much  in  our  author's  manner,  and 
therefore  I  believe  the  old  copy  is  right.     Malone. 

*  Up  in  the  air,  crown'd  with  the  golden  sun.]  Dr.  Warburton 
calls  this  "  the  nonsensical  line  of  some  player."  The  idea,  how- 
ever, might  have  been  taken  from  Chaucer's  Legende  of  good 
Women  : 

"  Her  gilt  heere  was  ycrotvnid  ivith  a  son." 
See  also  Additions  to  the  History  of  the  English  Stage,  vol.  iii. : 

"  Item — I  crown  with  a  sone." 
Shakspeare's  meaning,  (divested  of  its  poetical  finery,)   I  sup- 
pose, is,  that  the  king  stood  upon  an  eminence,  with  the  sun  shin- 
ing over  his  head.     Steevens. 


330  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ii. 

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 5. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Ambassadors  from  Henry  King  of  Eng- 
land 
Do  crave  admittance  to  your  majesty. 

Fr.  King.   We'll   give   them  present   audience. 
Go,  and  bring  them. 

\_Exeunt  Mess,  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 6,  when  what  they  seem 

to  threaten, 
Runs  far  before  them.     Good  my  sovereign, 
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. 

Re-enter  Lords,  with  Exeter  and  Train. 

Fr.  King.  From  our  brother  England  *  ? 

Exe.  From  him ;  and  thus  he  greets  your  ma- 
jesty. 
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, 

*  Folio,  of  England. 

5  —  fate  of  him.]     His  fate  is  what  is  allotted  him  by  destiny, 
or  what  he  is  fated  to  perform.     Johnson. 

So  Virgil,  speaking  of  the  future  deeds  of  the  descendants  of 
iEneas  : 

Attollens  humeris  famamque  etjata  nepotum. 

Steevens. 

6  _ .  spend  their  mouths,]    That  is,  bark  ;  the  sportsman's  term. 

Johnson. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  V.  331 

By  law  of  nature,  and  of  nations,  'long 

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, 

'Tis  no  sinister,  nor  no  aukward  claim, 

Pick'd  from  the  worm-holes  of  long-vanish'd  days, 

Nor  from  the  dust  of  old  oblivion  rak'd, 

He  sends  you  this  most  memorable  line 7, 

[Gives  a  paper. 
In  every  branch  truly  demonstrative ; 
Willing  you,  overlook  this  pedigree : 
And,  when  you  find  him  evenly  deriv'd 
From  his  most  fam'd  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 : 
And  therefore  8  in  fierce  tempest  is  he  coming, 
In  thunder,  and  in  earthquake,  like  a  Jove ; 
(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 
Turns  he  9  the  widows'  tears,  the  orphans'  cries, 
The  dead  men's  blood l,  the  pining  maidens'  groans, 


1  —  memorable  line,]     This  genealogy ;  this  deduction  of  his 
lineage.     Johnson. 

8  And  therefore,  &c]     The  word— And  is  wanting  in  the  old 
copies.     It  was  supplied  by  Mr.  Rowe,  for  the  sake  of  measure, 

Steevens. 

9  Turns  he—]     Thus  the  quarto,  1600.     The  folio  reads— 
turning  the  widows'  tears.     Malone. 

1  The  dead  men's  blood,]     The  disposition  of  the  images  were 
more  regular,  if  we  were  to  read  thus : 


332  KING  HENRY  V.  act  //. 

For  husbands,  fathers,  and  betrothed  lovers, 
That  shall  be  swallow'd  in  this  controversy. 
This  is  his  claim,  his  threat  ning,  and  my  message ; 
Unless  the  Dauphin  be  in  presence  here, 
To  whom  expressly  I  bring  greeting  too. 

Fr.  King.  For  us,  we  will  consider  of  this  fur- 
ther: 
To-morrow  shall  you  bear  our  full  intent 
Back  to  our  brother  England. 

Dau.  For  the  Dauphin, 

I  stand  here  for  him ;  What  to  him  from  England  ? 

Exe.  Scorn,  and  defiance;  slight  regard,  con- 
tempt, 
And  any  thing  that  may  not  misbecome 
The  mighty  sender,  doth  he  prize  you  at. 
Thus  says  my  king :  and,  if  your  father's  highness 
Do  not,  in  grant  of  all  demands  at  large, 
Sweeten  the  bitter  mock  you  sent  his  majesty, 
He'll  call  you  to  so  hot  *  an  answer  for  it, 
That  caves  and  womby  vaultages  of  France 
Shall  chide  your  trespass 2,  and  return  your  mock 

*  Quarto,  loud. 

"  -— —  upon  your  head 

."  Turning  the  dead  men's  blood,  the  widows'  tears, 

"  The  orphans'  cries,  the  pining  maidens'  groans." 

Johnson. 
The  quartos  1600  and  1608  exhibit  the  passage  thus  : 
"  And  on  your  heads  turns  he  the  widows'  tears, 
"  The  orphans'  cries,  the  dead  men's  bones, 
"  The  pining  maidens'  groans, 
"  For  husbands,  fathers,  and  distressed  lovers, 
"  Which,"  &c. 
These  quartos  agree  in  all  but  the  merest  trifles :  and  there- 
fore, for  the  future,   1  shall  content  myself  in  general  to  quote 
the  former  of  them,  which  is  the  most  correct  of  the  two. 

Steevens. 
Pining  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto  1600.  The  folio  has — privy. 
Blood  is  the  reading  of  the  folio.     The  quarto,  instead  of  it,  has 
bones.     Malone. 

2  Shall  chide  your  trespass,]     To  chide  is  to  resound,  to  echo. 
So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream : 


4C  jr.  KING  HENRY  V.  333 

In  second  accent  of  his  ordnance  3. 

Dau.  Say,  if  my  father  render  fair  reply, 
It  is  against  my  will :  for  I  desire 
Nothing  but  odds  with  England ;  to  that  end, 
As  matching  to  his  youth  and  vanity, 
I  did  present  him  with  those  Paris  balls. 

Exe.  He'll  make  your  Paris  Louvre  shake  for  it, 
'  Were  it  the  mistress  court  of  mighty  Europe : 
And,  be  assur'd,  you'll  find  a  difference, 
(As  we,  his  subjects,  have  in  wonder  found,) 
Between  the  promise  of  his  greener  days, 
And  these  he  masters  now  4  ;  now  he  weighs  time, 
Even  to  the  utmost  grain ;  which  you  shall  read 5 
In  your  own  losses,  if  he  stay  in  France. 

Fr.  King.  To-morrow  shall  you  know  our  mind 
at  full. 

Exe.  Despatch  us  with  all  speed,  lest  that  our 
king 
Come  here  himself  to  question  our  delay ; 
For  he  is  footed  in  this  land  already. 

Fr.  King.  You  shall  be  soon  despatch'd,  with 
fair  conditions : 


never  did  I  hear 


"  Such  gallant  chiding" 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VIII. : 

"  As  doth  a  rock  against  the  chiding  flood."     Steevens. 
This  interpretation  is  confirmed  by  a  passage  in  The  Tempest : 
"  ■  the  thunder, 

"  That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounc'd 
"  The  name  of  Prosper  ;  it  did  bass  my  trespass." 

Malone. 
3  —  of  his  ordnance.]     Ordnance  is  here  used  as  a  trisylla- 
ble ;  being,  in  our  author's  time,  improperly  written  ordinance. 

Malone. 
*  —  he  masters    now  ;]      Thus    the    folio.      So,    in  King 
Henry  VI.  Part  I. : 

"  As  if  he  master  d  there  a  double  spirit 
"  Of  teaching  and  of  learning,"  &c. 
The  quarto  1600  reads — musters.     Steevens. 
5  —  you  shall  read — ]     So  the  folio.     The  quarto  1600  has — 
"  you  shall^wrf."     Malone. 


334  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

A  night  is  but  small  breath,  and  little  pause, 

To  answer  matters  of  this  consequence.     [Exeunt. 


ACT  III. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Thus  with  imagin'd  wing  our  swift  scene 
flies, 
In  motion  of  no  less  celerity 

Than  that  of  thought.    Suppose,  that  you  have  seen 
The  well-appointed 6  king  at  Hampton  pier 
Embark  his  royalty 7 ;  and  his  brave  fleet 
With  silken  streamers  the  young  Phoebus  fanning 8 : 

6  —  well-appointed — ]  i.  e.  well  furnished  with  all  the  neces- 
saries of  war.     So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

"  And  very  well  appointed,  as  I  thought, 

"  March 'd  towards  Saint  Alban's ."     Steevens. 

7  —  at  Hampton  pier 

Embark  his  royalty ;]  All  the  editions  downwards,  impli- 
citly, after  the  first  folio,  read — "  Dover  pier."  But  could  the 
poet  possibly  be  so  discordant  from  himself  (and  the  Chronicles, 
which  he  copied,)  to  make  the  king  here  embark  at  Dover;  when 
he  has  before  told  us  so  precisely,  and  that  so  often  over,  that  he 
embarked  at  Southampton  ?  I  dare  acquit  the  poet  from  so  fla- 
grant a  variation.  The  indolence  of  a  transcriber,  or  a  com- 
positor at  press,  must  give  rise  to  such  an  error.  They,  seeing 
pier  at  the  end  of  the  verse,  unluckily  thought  of  Dover  pier,  as 
the  best  known  to  them ;  and  so  unawares  corrupted  the  text. 

Theobald. 
Among  the  records  of  the  town  of  Southampton,  they  have  a 
minute  and  authentick  account  (drawn  up  at  that  time)  of  the 
encampment  of  Henry  the  Fifth  near  the  town,  before  this  em- 
barkment  for  France.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  place  where 
the  army  was  encamped,  then  a  low  level  plain  or  a  down,  is  now 
entirely  covered  with  sea,  and  called  Westport.     T.  Warton. 

8  —  Phoebus  fanning.]     Old  copy— -fayning.     Corrected  by 
Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 


act  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  335 

Play  with  your  fancies;  and  in  them  behold, 
Upon  the  hempen  tackle,  ship-boys  climbing : 
Hear  the  shrill  whistle,  which  doth  order  give 
To  sounds  confus'd 9 :  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 l,  and  behold 
A  city  on  the  inconstant  billows  dancing ; 
For  so  appears  this  fleet  majestical, 
Holding  due  course  to  Harfleur.     Follow,  follow ! 
Grapple  your  minds  to  sternage  of  this  navy 2 ; 
And  leave  your  England,  as  dead  midnight,  still, 
Guarded  with  grandsires,  babies,  and  old  women, 
Either  past,  or  not  arriv'd  to,  pith  and  puissance  : 
For  who  is  he,  whose  chin  is  but  enrich'd 

"  Where  the  Norweyan  banners  flout  the  sky, 
"  And  Jan  our  people  cold."     Steevens. 
9  Hear  the  shrill  whistle,  which  doth  order  give 
To  sounds  confus'd  :]      So,  in   Pericles,   Prince  of  Tyre, 
1609: 

" the  boatswain  ivhislles,  and 

'*  The  master  calls,  and  trebles  the  confusion."     Malone. 

1  — rivage,]     The  bank  or  shore.     Johnson. 

Rivage,  French.     So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b.  iv.  c.  i. : 

"  Pactolus  with  his  waters  shere 

"  Throws  forth  upon  the  rivage  round  about  him  nere." 
Again,  in  Gower,  De  Confessione  Amantis,  lib.  viii.  fol.  186  : 
•*  Upon  the  stronde  at  rivage."     Steevens. 

2  —  to  sternage  of  this  navy ;]  The  stern  being  the  hinder 
part  of  the  ship,  the  meaning  is,  let  your  minds  follow  close  after 
the  navy.  Stern,  however,  appears  to  have  been  anciently  syno- 
nymous to  rudder.     So,  in  the  King  Leir,  1605  : 

"  Left  as  it  were  a  ship  without  a  sterne." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  second  Iliad : 

"  Twelve  ships  he  brought,  which,  in  their  course,  vermilion 
siernes  did  move." 
I  suspect  the  author  wrote,  steerage.     So,  in  his  Pericles  : 

"  . Think  his  pilot,  thought ; 

*'  So  with  his  steerage  shall  your  thoughts  groxv  on, 
"  To  fetch  his  daughter  home."     Malone. 


336  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

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  Harfleur. 
Suppose,  the   ambassador  from  the  French  comes 

back  ; 
Tells  Harry — that  the  king  doth  offer  him 
Katharine  his  daughter ;  and  with  her,  to  dowry, 
Some  petty  and  unprofitable  dukedoms. 
The  offer  likes  not :  and  the  nimble  gunner 
With  linstock 3  now  the  devilish  cannon  touches, 

\u4larum  ;  and  Chambers  4  go  off. 
And  down  goes  all  before  them.     Still  be  kind, 
And  eke5  out  our  performance  with  your  mind. 

\_Exit. 

3  —  linstock — ]  The  staff  to  which  the  match  is  fixed  when 
ordnance  is  fired.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Middleton's  comedy  of  Blurt  Master  Constable,  1602 : 
"  —  O  Cupid,  grant  that  my  blushing  prove  not  a  linstocke,  and 
give  fire  too  suddenly,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Jew  of  Malta,  by  Marlowe,  1633  : 
"  Till  you  shall  hear  a  culverin  discharg'd 
"  By  him  that  bears  the  linstock  kindled  thus." 
I  learn  from  Smith's  Sea  Grammar,  1627,  that  the  "  Lintstock 
is  a  handsome  carved  stick,  more  than  halfe  yard  long,  with  a 
cocke  at  the  one  end,  to  hold  fast  his  match,"  &c.     Steevens. 

4  —  Chambers  — ]    Small  pieces  of  ordnance.    See  p.  75,  n.  6. 

Steevens. 

5  And  eke  — ]  This  word  is  in  the  first  folio  written — eech  ; 
as  it  was,  sometimes  at  least,  pronounced.    So,  in  Pericles,  1609  : 

"  And  time  that  is  so  briefly  spent, 
"  With  your  fine  fancies  quaintly  each; 
"  What's  dumb  in  show  I'll  plain  with  speech."     Malone. 
See  also  the  concluding  speech   of  The   First   Part   of  the 
Spanish  Tragedy,  1605  : 

"  My  armes  are  of  the  shortest, 

"  Let  your  loves  peace  them  out"     Steevens. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  337 

SCENE  I. 

The  Same.     Before  Harfleur. 

Alarums.     Enter  King  Henry,  Exeter,  Bedford, 
Gloster,  and  Soldiers,  with  Scaling  Ladders. 

K.   Hen.    Once   more   unto   the   breach,  dear 
friends,  once  more ; 
Or  close  the  wall 6  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  tiger7 ; 

6  Or  close  the  wall,  &c]  Here  is  apparently  a  chasm.  One 
line  at  least  is  lost,  which  contained  the  other  part  of  a  disjunc- 
tive proposition.  The  King's  speech  is,  '  dear  friends,  either  win 
the  town,  or  close  up  the  wall  with  dead.'  The  old  quarto  gives 
no  help.     Johnson. 

I  do  not  perceive  the  chasm  which  Dr.  Johnson  complains  of. 
What  the  King  means  to  say  is, — •  Re-enter  the  breach  you  have 
made,  or  fill  it  up  with  your  own  dead  bodies  ; '  i.  e.  Pursue  your 
advantage,  or  give  it  up  with  your  lives.  Mount  the  breach  in  the 
wall,  or  repair  it  by  leaving  your  own  carcases  in  lieu  of  the  stones 
you  have  displaced  :  in  short — Do  one  thing  or  the  other.     So, 
in  Church-yard's  Siege  of  Edenbrough  Castle : 
"  — —  we  will  possesse  the  place, 
"  Or  leaue  our  bones  and  bowels  in  the  breatch." 
This  speech  of  King  Henry  was  added  after  the  quartos  1600 
and  1608.     Steevens. 

7  —  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 

Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger  ;]  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer 
has  observed  on  the  following  passage  in  Troilus  and  Cressida, 
that  in  storms  and  high  winds  the  tiger  roars  and  rages  most 
furiously : 

" even  so 

"  Doth  valour's  show  and  valour's  worth  divide 
"  In  storms  of  fortune  :  for,  in  her  ray  and  brightness, 
"  The  herd  hath  more  annoyance  by  the  brize 
"  Than  by  the  tiger :  but  when  splitting  winds 
"  Make  flexible  the  knees  of  knotted  oaks, 
VOL.  XVII.  Z 


338  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood 8, 
Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favour'd  rage : 
Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect ; 
Let  it  pry  through  the  portage  of  the  head  a, 
Like  the  brass  cannon ;  let  the  brow  o'erwhelm  it, 
As  fearfully,  as  doth  a  galled  rock 
O'erhand  and  jutty x  his  confounded  base 2, 
Swill'd  with  the  wild  and  wasteful  ocean3. 

"  And  flies  flee  under  shade ;  why  then  the  thing  of  courage, 
"  As  rouz'd  with  rage,  with  rage  doth  sympathize,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

8  —  summon  up  the  blood,]  Old  copy — commune,  &c.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

9  — portage  of  the  head,]  Portage,  open  space,  from  port, 
a  gate.  Let  the  eye  appear  in  the  head  as  cannon  through  the 
battlements,  or  embrasures,  of  a  fortification.     Johnson. 

So  we  now  say- — "  the  port-holes  of  a  ship."  M.  Mason. 
1  — jutty—]  The  force  of  the  verb  to  jutty,  when  applied  to 
a  rock  projecting  into  the  sea,  is  not  felt  by  those  who  are  un- 
aware that  this  word  anciently  signified  a  mole  raised  to  withstand 
the  encroachment  of  the  tide.  In  an  act,  1  Edw.  VI.  c.  14,  pro- 
vision is  made  for  u  the  maintenaunce  of  pleva,  jutties,  walles,  and 
bankes,  against  the  rages  of  the  sea."     Holt  White. 

Jutty-heads,  in  sea-language,  are  platforms  standing  on  piles, 
near  the  docks,  and  projecting  without  the  wharfs,  for  the  more 
convenient  docking  and  undocking  ships.  See  Chambers's  Dic- 
tionary.    Steevens. 

J  —  his  confounded  base,]     His  tvorn  or  wasted  base. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  The  Tempest : 

"  — •  the  shore,  that  o'er  his  uave-'worn  basis  bow'd, 
"  As  stooping  to  relieve  him."     Steevens. 
One  of  the  senses  of  to  confound,  in  our  author's  time,  was,  to 
destroy.     See  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  in  v.     Malone. 
3  —  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.]     So,  in  Daniel's 
Civil  Warres,  1595  : 

"  A  place  there  is,  where  proudly  rais'd  there  stands 
"  A  huge  aspiring  rock,  neighbouring  the  skies, 
"  Whose  surly  brow  imperiously  commands 
"  The  sea  his  bounds,  that  at  his  proud  foot  lies  ; 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  339 

Now  set  the  teeth  4,  and  stretch  the  nostril  wide  ; 

Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  every  spirit5 

To  his  full  height ! — On,  on,  you  noble  English  6, 

Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof7 ! 

Fathers,  that,  like  so  many  Alexanders, 

Have,  in  these  parts,  from  morn  till  even  fought, 

And  sheath'd  their  swords  for  lack  of  argument 8, 

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; 

"  And  spurns  the  waves,  that  in  rebellious  bands 
"  Assault  his  empire,  and  against  him  rise."     Malone. 
*  Now  set  the  teeth,]     So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

" now  I'll  set  my  teeth, 

"  And  send  to  darkness  all  that  stop  me."     Steevens. 

5  —  bend  up  every  spirit  — ]     A  metaphor  from  the  bow. 

Johnson. 
So  again,  in  Hamlet :  "  they  fool  me  to  the  lop  of  my  bent." 
Again,  in  Macbeth : 

"  I  am  settled,  and  bend  up 

"  Each  corporal  agent  to  this  terrible  feat."     Malone. 

6  — you  noblest  English,]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The 
first  has — noblish.  Mr.  Malone  reads — noble;  and  observes  that 
this  speech  is  not  in  the  quartos.     Steevens. 

7  Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof !]  Thus  the 
folio  1623,  and  rightly.     So,  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b.  iii. : 

"  Whom  strange  adventure  did  from  Britain^/ef." 
Again,  in  the  Prologue  to  Ben  Jonson's  Silent  Woman  : 

"  Though  there  be  none  far-Jet,  there  will  dear  bought." 
Again,  in  Lord  Surrey's  translation  of  the  second  book  of  Virgil's 
iEneid : 

"  And  with  that  winde  hadfet  the  land  of  Greece." 
The  sacred  writings  afford  many  instances  to  the  same  purpose. 
Mr.  Pope  first  made  the  change,  [to  fetch' d],  which   I,  among 
others,  had  inadvertently  followed.     Steevens. 

8  — argument.]     hmatter,  or  subject.    Johnson. 

z  2 


340  KING  HENRY  V.  act  jij. 

For  there  is  none  of  you  so  mean  and  base, 
That  hath  not  noble  lustre  in  your  eyes. 
I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips9, 
Straining  upon  the  start1.     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. 

Forces  pass  over;  then  enter  Nym,  Bardolph, 
Pistol,  and  Boy. 

Bard.  On,  on,  on,  on,  on  !  to  the  breach,  to  the 
breach  ! 

Nym.  Tray  thee,  corporal2,  stay:  the  knocks 
are  too  hot ;  and  for  mine  own  part,  I  have  not  a 
case  of  lives 3 :  the  humour  of  it  is  too  hot,  that  is 
the  very  plain-song  of  it. 

9  —  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips,]  Slips  are  a  contrivance  of 
leather,  to  start  two  dogs  at  the  same  time.     C. 

1  Straining  upon  the  start.]  The  old  copy  reads — Straying. 
Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

a  —  corporal.]  We  should  read — lieutenant.  It  is  Bardolph 
to  whom  he  speaks.     Steevens. 

Though  Bardolph  is  only  a  corporal  in  King  Henry  IV.  as  our 
author  has  in  this  play,  from  inadvertence  or  design,  made  him  a 
lieutenant,  I  think,  with  Mr.  Steevens,  that  we  should  read  lieu- 
tenant. See  a  former  note,  p.  294,  n.  8.  The  truth  is,  I  believe, 
that  the  variations  in  his  title  proceeded  merely  from  Shakspeare's 
inattention.     Malone. 

3  —  a  case  of  lives  :]  A  set  of  lives,  of  which,  when  one  is 
worn  out,  another  may  serve.     Johnson. 

Perhaps  only  tvoo  ;  as  a  case  of  Pistols ;  and,  in  Ben  Jonson,  a 
case  of  masques.     Whalley. 

I  believe  Mr.  Whalley's  explanation  is  the  true  one.  A  case  of 
pistols,  which  was  the  current  phrase  for  a  pair  or  brace  of 
pistols,  in  our  author's  time,  is  at  this  day  the  term  always  used 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  341 

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  alehouse  in  London!  I 
would  give  all  my  fame  for  a  pot  of  ale,  and  safety. 
Pist.  And  I : 

If  wishes  would  prevail  with  me4, 
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 5. 

Enter  Fluellen6. 

Flu.  Got's  plood! — Up  to  the  preaches7,  you 
rascals  !  will  you  not  up  to  the  preaches  ? 

[Driving  them  forward. 

in  Ireland,  where  much  of  the  language  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth  is 
yet  retained. 

See  also  the  Life  of  Jack  Wilton,  by  Thomas  Nashe,  4to. 
1594- :  "  Memorandum,  everie  one  of  you  after  the  perusal  of  this 
pamphlet  is  to  provide  him  a  case  of  ponyards,  that  if  you  come 
in  companie  with  any  man  which  shall  dispraise  it, — you  may 
straight  give  him  the  stockado."     Malone. 

*  If  wishes,  &c]  This  passage  I  have  replaced  from  the  first 
folio,  which  is  the  only  authentick  copy  of  this  play.  These 
lines,  which  perhaps  are  part  of  a  song,  Mr.  Pope  did  not  like, 
and  therefore  changed  them  in  conformity  to  the  imperfect  play  in 
quarto,  and  was  followed  by  the  succeeding  editors.  For  prevail 
I  should  read  avail.     Johnson. 

s  As  duly,  &c]     This  speech  I  have  restored  from  the  folio. 

Steevens. 

This  should  be  printed  as  verse,  being  perhaps  the  remainder  of 
Pistol's  song.     Douce. 

6  - — Fluellen.']  This  is  only  the  Welsh  pronunciation  of  Llu- 
ellyn.     Thus  also  Flloyd  instead  of  Lloyd.     Steevens. 

7  —  Up  to  the  preaches,  &c]  Thus  the  quarto,  with  only 
the  difference  of  breaches  instead  of  preaches.  Modern  editors 
have  been  very  liberal  of  their  Welsh  dialect.  The  folio  reads, — 
"  Up  to  the  breach,  you  dogges,  avaunt,  you  cullions."  Steevens. 


342  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

Pist.    Be    merciful,   great  duke8,    to  men   of 
mould 9 ! 
Abate  thy  rage,  abate  thy  manly  rage ! 
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  Nym,  Pistol,  and  Bardolph, 
followed  by  Fluellen. 

8  Be  merciful,  great  duke,]  That  is,  great  commander.  So, 
in  Harrington's  Orlando  Furioso,  1591  : 

M  And  as  herself  the  dame  of  Carthage  kill'd, 
"  When  as  the  Trojan  duke  did  her  forsake  — ." 

The  Trojan  duke  is  only  a  translation  of  dux  Trojanus.  So 
also  in  many  of  our  old  poems,  Duke  Theseus,  Duke  Hannibal, 
&c.  See  vol.  v.  p.  176,  n.  6.  In  Pistol's  mouth  the  word  has 
here  peculiar  propriety. 

The  author  of  Remarks,  &c.  on  the  last  edition  of  Shakspeare, 
[Mr.  Ritson,]  says,  that  "  in  the  folio  it  is  the  Duke  of  Exeter, 
and  not  Fluellen,  who  enters  [here],  and  to  whom  Pistol  ad- 
dresses himself."  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  in  the  only  folio  of 
any  authority,  that  of  1623,  this  is  not  the  case.  When  the  King 
retired  before  the  entry  of  Bardolph,  &c.  the  Duke  of  Exeter  cer- 
tainly accompanied  him,  with  Bedford,  Gloster,  &c.  though  in  the 
folio  the  word  Exeunt  is  accidentally  omitted.  In  the  quarto,  be- 
fore the  entry  of  Bardolph,  Fluellen,  &c.  we  find  Exit  Omnes. 

In  the  quarto,  Nym,  on  Fluellen's  treating  him  so  roughly, 
says,  "Abate  thy  rage,  sweet  knight."  Had  these  words  been 
preserved,  I  suppose  this  Remarker  would  have  contended,  that 
Nym's  address  was  not  to  the  honest  Welshman,  but  to  old  Sir 
Thomas  Erpingham. 

I  should  not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  refute  this  unfounded 
remark,  had  I  not  feared  that  my  readers,  in  consequence  of  the 
above-mentioned  misrepresentation  of  the  state  of  the  old  copy, 
might  be  led  to  suppose  that  some  arbitraiy  alteration  had  here 
been  made  in  the  text.     Malone. 

Sylvester,  in  hisJDubartas,  terms  Moses  "  a  great  duke." 

Boswell. 

9  —  to  men  of  mould  !]  To  men  of  earth,  to  poor  mortal  men. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  the  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Yvychurch : 

"  At  length  man  tvas  made  of  mould,  by  crafty  Prometheus." 

Steevens^ 


sc.  u.  KING  HENRY  V.  343 

Boy.  As  young  as  I  am,  I  have  observed  these 
three  swashers.  I  am  boy  to  them  all  three :  but 
all  they  three  2,  though  they  would  serve  me,  could 
not  be  man  to  me ;  for,  indeed,  three  such  anticks 
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  few  words 
are  the  best  men 3 ;  and  therefore  he  scorns  to  say 
his  prayers,  lest  'a  should  be  thought  a  coward :  but 
his  few  bad  words  are  match'd  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, — 
purchase4.  Bardolph  stole  a  lute-case;  bore  it 
twelve  leagues,  and  sold  it  for  three  halfpence. 
Nym,  and  Bardolph,  are  sworn  brothers  in  niching ; 
and  in  Calais  they  stole  a  fire-shovel :  I  knew,  by 
that  piece  of  service,  the  men  would  carry  coals 5. 


1  —  wins  bad  humours.]  In  a  former  scene  Nym  says,  **  the 
king  hath  run  bad  humours  on  the  knight."  We  should  there- 
fore perhaps  read  runs  here  also.  But  there  is  little  certainty  in 
any  conjecture  concerning  the  dialect  of  Nym  or  Pistol. 

Malone. 

1  —  but  all  they  three,]  We  should  read,  I  think,  "  all  the 
three."     Malone. 

"  They  three,"  is  a  vulgarism,  to  this  day  in  constant  use. 

Steevens. 

3  —  best  men  ;]  That  is,  bravest ;  so  in  the  next  lines, good 
deeds  are  brave  actions.     Johnson. 

*  They  will  steal  any  thing,  and  call  it,— purchase.]  This 
was  the  cant  term  used  for  money  gained  by  cheating,  as  we 
learn  from  Greene's  Art  of  Coneycatching.     Boswell. 

s  —  the  men  would  carry  coals.]     It  appears  that,  in  Shak- 
speare's  age,  to  carry  coals,  was,  I  know  not  why,  to  endure  af- 
fronts.    So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  one  serving-man  asks  another 
whether  he  will  carry  coals.     Johnson. 

See  note  on  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  I.  Sc.  I. 


344  KING  HENRY  V.  act  m. 

They  would  have  me  as  familiar  with  men's  pockets, 
as  their  gloves  or  their  handkerchiefs  :  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  villainy  goes  against 
my  weak  stomach,  and  therefore  I  must  cast  it  up. 

\_Exit  Boy. 

Re-enter  Fluellen,  Gower  following. 

Gow.  Captain  Fluellen,  you  must  come  presently 
to  the  mines ;  the  duke  of  Gloster  would  speak 
with  you. 

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  dight  himself  four  yards  under  the  counter- 
mines 5 ;  by  Cheshu,  I  think,  'a  will  plow  up  all6,  if 
there  is  not  better  directions. 

Go  jv.  The  duke  of  Gloster,  to  whom  the  order 
of  the  siege  is  given,  is  altogether  directed  by  an 
Irishman  ;  a  very  valiant  gentleman,  i'  faith. 

Flu.  It  is  captain  Macmorris,  is  it  not  ? 

Gow.  I  think,  it  be. 

Flu.  By  Cheshu,  he  is  an  ass,  as  in  the  'orld : 
I  will  verify  as  much  in  his  peard :  he  has  no  more 
directions  in  the  true  disciplines  of  the  wars,  look 
you,  of  the  Roman  disciplines,  than  is  a  puppy-dog. 

Cant  phrases  are  the  ephemerons  of  literature.  In  the  quartos, 
1600  and  1608,  the  passage  stands  thus  :  "  I  knew  by  that  they 
meant  to  carry  coales."     Steevens. 

5  —  is  dight  himself  four  yards  under  the  countermines  :] 
Fluellen  means,  that  the  enemy  had  digged  himself  countermines 
four  yards  under  the  mines.     Johnson. 

6  —  will  plow  up  all,]     That  is,  he  will  blow  up  all. 

Johnson, 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  345 

Enter  Macmorris  and  Jamy,  at  a  distance. 

Gow.  Here  a  comes ;  and  the  Scots  captain, 
captain  J  amy,  with  him. 

Flu.  Captain  Jamy  is  a  marvellous  falorous  gen- 
tleman, that  is  certain  ;  and  of  great  expedition, 
and  knowledge,  in  the  ancient  wars,  upon  my  par- 
ticular knowledge  of  his  directions :  by  Cheshu,  he 
will  maintain  his  argument  as  well  as  any  military 
man  in  the  'orld,  in  the  disciplines  of  the  pristine 
wars  of  the  Romans. 

Jamy.  I  say,  gud-day,  captain  Fluellen. 

Flu.  God-den  to  your  worship,  goot  captain 
Jamy. 

Gorr.  How,  now,  captain  Macmorris  ?  have  you 
quit  the  mines  ?  have  the  pioneers  given  o'er  ? 

Mac.  By  Chrish  la,  tish  ill  done  :  the  work  ish 
give  over,  the  trumpet  sound  the  retreat.  By  my 
hand,  I  swear,  and  by  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  peseech  you  now 
will  you  voutsafe  me,  look  you,  a  few  disputations 
with  you,  as  partly  touching  or  concerning  the  dis- 
ciplines of  the  war,  the  Roman  wars,  in  the  way  of 
argument,  look  you,  and  friendly  communication ; 
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. 

Jamy.  It  sail  be  very  gud,  gud  feith,  gud  cap- 
tains bath  :  and  I  sail  quit  you  7  with  gud  leve,  as  I 
may  pick  occasion  ;  that  sail  I,  marry. 

'  —  I  sail  quit  you — ]  That  is,  I  shall,  with  your  permission, 


346  KING  HENRY  V.  act  nu 

Mac.  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  dis- 
course. The  town  is  beseeched,  and  the  trumpet 
calls  us  to  the  breach ;  and  we  talk,  and,  by  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. 

Jamy.  By  the  mess,  ere  theise  eyes  of  mine  take 
themselves  to  slumber,  aile  do  gude  service,  or  aile 
ligge  i'  the  grund  for  it ;  ay,  or  go  to  death  ;  and 
aile  pay  it  as  valorously  as  I  may,  that  sal  I  surely 
do.  that  is  the  breff  and  the  long :  Mary,  I  wad 
full  fain  heard  some  question  'tween  you  'tway. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  I  think,  look  you, 
under  your  correction,  there  is  not  many  of  your 
nation 

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  goot  a  man  as  yourself,  both  in  the  disciplines  of 
wars,  and  in  the  derivation  of  my  birth,  and  in  other 
particularities. 

Mac,  I  do  not  know  you  so  good  a  man  as  my- 
self:  so  Crish  save  me,  I  will  cut  off  your  head. 

Gorr.  Gentlemen  both,  you  will  mistake  each 
other. 

Jamy.  Au !  that's  a  foul  fault. 

[A  Parley  sounded. 

requite  you,  that  is,  answer  you,  or  interpose  with  my  arguments, 
as  I  shall  find  opportunity.     Johnson. 


sc.  m.  KING  HENRY  V.  347 

Gojv.  The  town  sounds  a  parley. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  when  there  is  more 
better  opportunity  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  8.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

The  same.     Before  the  Gates  of  Harfleur. 

The  Governour  and  some  Citizens  on  the  Walls ; 
the  English  Forces  below.  Enter  King  Henry 
and  his  Train. 

K.  Hen.  How  yet  resolves  the  governour  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  9, 
(A  name,  that,  in  my  thoughts,  becomes  me  best,) 
If  I  begin  the  battery  once  again, 
I  will  not  leave  the  half-achieved  Harfleur, 
Till  in  her  ashes  she  lie  buried. 
The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up 1 ; 

8  — there  is  an  end.]  It  were  to  be  wished,  that  the  poor 
merriment  of  this  dialogue  had  not  been  purchased  with  so  much 
profaneness.     Johnson. 

9  Defy  us  to  ouk  worst  :  for,  as  I  am  a  soldier,]  The  three 
words  in  small  capitals,  are,  1  suppose,  an  interpolation.  They 
have  little  value,  and  spoil  the  metre.     Steevens. 

1  The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up ;]  Mr.  Gray  has 
borrowed  this  thought  in  his  inimitable  Elegy : 

"  And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind."     Steevens. 
We   again    meet   with   this  significant   expression    in    King 
Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

"  Open  thy  gate  of  mercy,  gracious  Lord  !  " 
Sir  Francis  Bacon  uses  the  same  expression  in  a  letter  to  King 
James,  written  a  few  days  after  the  death  of  Shakspeare :  "  And 


348  KING  HENRY  V.  act  m. 

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  desolation2  ? 

What  is't  to  me,  when  you  yourselves  are  cause, 

If  your  pure  maidens  fall  into  the  hand 

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  Harfleur, 

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 

O'erblows  the  filthy  and  contagious  clouds  3 

Of  deadly  murder 4,  spoil,  and  villainy, 

therefore,  in  conclusion,  we  wished  him  [the  earl  of  Somerset] 
not  to  shut  the  gale  of  your  majesties  mercy  against  himself,  by 
being  obdurate  any  longer."     Malone. 

2  —  fell  feats 

Enlink'd  to  waste  and  desolation  ?]     All  the  savage  practices 
naturally  concomitant  to  the  sack  of  cities.     Johnson. 

3  Whiles  yet  the  cool  and  temperate  wind  of  grace 
O'erblows  the  filthy  and  contagious  clouds  — ]    This  is  a  very 

harsh  metaphor.     To  overblow  is  to  drive  away,  or  to  keep  off. 

Johnson. 

*  Of  deadly  murder,]  The  folio  has  headly.  The  passage  is 
not  in  the  quarto.  Though  deadly  is  an  epithet  of  but  little 
force,  applied  to  murder,  I  yet  suspect  it  to  have  been  the  poet's 
word.  So,  in  Macbeth,  vol.  xi.  p.  170,  we  have  mortal  murders  ; 
and  in  Richard  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  I.  "  dead-killing  news."  Malone. 

Perhaps  we  should  read,  [with  the  second  folio],  "  heady 
murder."     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  : 

"  And  all  the  currents  of  a  heady  fight."     Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  349 

If  not,  why,  in  a  moment,  look  to  see 

The  blind  and  bloody  soldier  with  foul  hand 

Defile  the  locks  of  your  shrill-shrieking  daughters5; 

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  confus'd 

Do  break  the  clouds,  as  did  the  wives  of  Jewry 

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  succour  we  entreated 6, 
Returns  us — that  his  powers  are  not  yet  ready 
To  raise  so  great  a  siege.     Therefore,  dread  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. 

K.  Hen.  Open  your  gates. — Come,  uncle  Exeter, 
Go  you  and  enter  Harfleur ;  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'll  retire  to  Calais. 
To-night  in  Harfleur  will  we  be  your  guest ; 
To-morrow  for  the  march  are  we  addrest 7. 

[Flourish.     The  King,  8$c.  enter  the  Town. 

5  Defile  the  locks,  &c]     The  folio  reads : 

"  Desire  the  locks,"  &c.     Steevens. 
The  emendation  is  Mr.  Pope's.     Malone. 

6  —whom  of  succour  we  entreated,]  Many  instances  of 
similar  phraseology  are  already  given  in  a  note  on  the  following 
passage  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  :  "  I  shall  desire  you  of 
more  acquaintance."     See  Act  III.  Sc.  I.     Steevens. 

7  — are  we  addrest.]  i.  e.  prepared.  So,  in  Heywood's 
Brazen  Age,  1613  : 

" clamours  from  afar, 

"  Tell  us  these  champions  are  addrest  for  war." 

Steevens. 


350  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

SCENE  IV.8 
Rouen.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Katharine  and  Alice. 

Kath.  Alice,  tu  as  este9  en  Angleterre,  et  tu 
paries  bien  le  language. 

8  Scene  IV.]  I  have  left  this  ridiculous  scene  as  I  found  it ; 
and  am  sorry  to  have  no  colour  left  from  any  of  the  editions,  to 
imagine  it  interpolated.     Warburton. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  rejected  it.  The  scene  is  indeed  mean 
enough,  when  it  is  read ;  but  the  grimaces  of  two  French 
women,  and  the  odd  accent  with  which  they  uttered  the  English, 
made  it  divert  upon  the  stage.  It  may  be  observed,  that  there 
is  in  it  not  only  the  French  language,  but  the  French  spirit. 
Alice  compliments  the  princess  upon  her  knowledge  of  four 
words,  and  tells  her  that  she  pronounces  like  the  English  them- 
selves. The  princess  suspects  no  deficiency  in  her  instructress, 
nor  the  instructress  in  herself.  Throughout  the  whole  scene 
there  may  be  found  French  servility,  and  French  vanity. 

I  cannot  forbear  to  transcribe  the  first  sentence  of  this  dialogue 
from  the  edition  of  1608,  that  the  reader,  who  has  not  looked 
into  the  old  copies,  may  judge  of  the  strange  negligence  with 
which  they  are  printed. 

"  Kate.  Alice  venecia,  vous  aves  cates  en,  vou  parte  fort  bon 
Angloys  englatara,  coman  sae  palla  vou  la  main  en  francoy." 

Johnson. 

We  may  observe,  in  general,  that  the  early  editions  have  not 
half  the  quantity;  and  every  sentence,  or  rather  every  word, 
most  ridiculously  blundered.  These,  for  several  reasons,  could 
not  possibly  be  published  by  the  author ;  and  it  is  extremely  pro- 
bable that  the  French  ribaldry  was  at  first  inserted  by  a  different 
hand,  as  the  many  editions  most  certainly  were  after  he  had 
left  the  stage.  Indeed,  every  'friend  to  his  memory  will  not 
easily  believe,  that  he  was  acquainted  with  the  scene  between 
Katharine  and  the  old  Gentlewoman :  or  surely  he  would  not 
have  admitted  such  obscenity  and  nonsense.     Farmer. 

It  is  very  certain  that  authors,  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  did 
not  correct  the  press  for  themselves.  I  hardly  ever  saw,  in  one 
of  the  old  plays,  a  sentence  of  either  Latin,  Italian,  or  French, 
without  the  most  ridiculous  blunders.  In  The  History  of  Cly- 
omon,  Knight  of  the  Golden  Shield,  1599,  a  tragedy  which  I 
have  often  quoted,  a  warrior  asks  a  lady,  disguised  like  a  page, 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  351 

Alice.  Un  pen  madame. 

Kath.  Je  te  prie,  m'enseigneuz ;  il  faut  que 
japprenne  a  parler.  Comment  appellez  vous  la 
main,  en  Anglois  ? 

Alice.  La  main  ?  elle  est  appellee,  de  hand. 

Kath.  De  hand.     Et  les  doigts  ? 

Alice.  Les  doigts  ?  may  Joy  1,  je  oublie  les 
doigts  ;  mats  je  me  souviendray.  Les  doigts  f  je 
pense,  qiCils  sont  appellS  de  fingres ;  ouy,  de  fin- 
gres. 

Kath.  La  main,  de  hand  ;  les  doigts,  de  fingres. 
Je  pense,  que  je  suis  le  bon  escolier.  Xay  gagn6 
deux  mots  d Anglois  vistement.  Comment  appellez 
vous  les  ongles  9 

Alice.  Les  ongles  ?  les  appellons,  de  nails. 

what  her  name  is.  She  answers,  "  Cur  Daeeer,"  i.  e.  Cceur 
d'Acier,  Heart  of  Steel.     Steevens. 

9  Kath.  Alice,  tu  as  estS  — ]  I  have  regulated  several  speeches 
in  this  French  scene ;  some  whereof  are  given  to  Alice,  and  yet 
evidently  belong  to  Katharine :  and  so  vice  versa.  It  is  not 
material  to  distinguish  the  particular  transpositions  I  have  made. 
Mr.  Gildon  has  left  no  bad  remark,  I  think,  with  regard  to  our 
poet's  conduct  in  the  character  of  this  princess  :  "  For  why  he 
should  not  allow  her,"  says  he,  "  to  speak  in  English  as  well  as 
all  the  other  French,  I  cannot  imagine  ;  since  it  adds  no  beauty, 
but  gives  a  patched  and  pye-bald  dialogue  of  no  beauty  or 
force."     Theobald. 

In  the  collection  of  Chester  Whitsun  Mysteries,  among  the 
Harleian  MSS.  No.  1013,  I  find  French  speeches  introduced. 
In  the  Vintner's  Play,  p.  65,  the  three  kings,  who  come  to  worship 
our  infant  Saviour,  address  themselves  to  Herod  in  that  language, 
and  Herod  very  politely  answers  them  in  the  same.  At  first,  I 
supposed  the  author  to  have  appropriated  a  foreign  tongue  to 
them,  because  they  were  strangers ;  but  in  the  Skinner's  Play, 
p.  144,  I  found  Pilate  talking  French,  when  no  such  reason  could 
be  offered  to  justify  a  change  of  language.  These  mysteries  are 
said  to  have  been  written  in  1328.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
mention  that  in  this  MS.  the  French  is  as  much  corrupted  as  in 
the  passage  quoted  by  Dr.  Johnson  from  the  quarto  edition  of 
King  Kenry  V.     Steevens. 

1  —  MAY^oy,]  Thus  the  old  copies  ;  but  I  suspect  we  should 
read — ma  foy.     Steevens. 


352  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

Kath.  De  nails.  Escoutez ;  dites  moy,  si  je 
parte  bien :  de  hand,  de  fingres,  de  nails. 

Alice.  Cest  bien  dit,  madame ;  il  est  fort  bon 
Anglois. 

Kath.  Dites  moy  en  Anglois,  le  bras. 

Alice.  De  arm,  madame. 

Kath.  Et  le  coude. 

Alice.  De  elbow. 

Kath.  De  elbow.  Je  rrien  faitz  la  repetition 
de  tous  les  mots,  que  vous  m'avez  appris  des  a  pre- 
sent. 

Alice.  II  est  trop  difficile,  madame,  comme  je 
pense. 

Kath.  Excusez  moy,  Alice;  escoutez:  De  hand, 
de  fingre,  de  nails,  de  arm,  de  bilbow. 

Alice.  De  elbow,  madame. 

Kath.  0  Seigneur  Dieul  je  nien  oublie;  De 
elbow.     Comment  appellez  vous  le  col  ? 

Alice.  De  neck,  madame. 

Kath.  De  neck  :   Et  le  menton  ? 

Alice.  De  chin. 

Kath.  De  sin.  Le  col,  de  neck :  le  menton,  de 
sin. 

Alice.  Ouy.  Sauf  vostre  honneur;  en  veritS, 
vous  prononces  les  mots  aussi  droict  que  les  natifs 
dAngleterre. 

Kath.  Je  ne  doute  point  dapprendre  par  la 
grace  de  Dieu;  et  en  peu  de  temps. 

Alice.  Navez  vous  pas  deja  oublie  ce  que  je 
vous  ay  enseignee  ? 

Kath.  Non,  je  reciteray  d.  vous  promptement. 
De  hand,  de  fingre,  de  mails, — 

Alice.  De  nails,  madame. 

Kath.  De  nails,  de  arme,  de  ilbow. 

Alice.  Sauf  vostre  honneur,  de  elbow. 

Kath.  Ainsi  disje;  de  elbow,  de  neck,  et  de 
sin  :   Comment  appellez  vous  le  pieds  et  la  robe  ? 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  V.  353 

Alice.  De  foot,  madame  ;  et  de  con. 

Kath.  De  foot,  et  de  con  ?  0  Seigneur  Dieu ! 
ces  sont  mots  de  son  mauvais,  corruptible,  grosse, 
et  impudique,  et  non  pour  les  dames  d'honneur  d'user : 
Je  ne  voudrois  prononcer  ces  mots  devant  les  Seig- 
neurs de  France,  pour  tout  le  monde.  II  faut  de 
foot,  et  de  con,  neant-moins.  Je  reciterai  une 
autre  fois  ma  lecon  ensemble :  De  hand,  de  fingre, 
de  nails,  de  arm,  de  elbow,  de  neck,  de  sin,  de  foot, 
de  con. 

Alice.  Excellent,  madame  I 

Kath.  Cest  assez  pour  une  fois ;  allons  nous  a 
disner.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  V. 

The  same.     Another  Room  in  the  same. 

Enter   the  French  King,  the  Dauphin,   Duke  of 
Bourbon,  the  Constable  of  France,  and  Others, 

Fr.  King.  Tis  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.  0  Dieu  vivant !  shall  a  few  sprays  of  us,— 
The  emptying  of  our  father's  luxury 2, 
Our  scions,  put  in  wild  and  savage a  stock, 
Spirt  up  so  suddenly  into  the  clouds, 
And  overlook  their  grafters  ? 


1  —  our  father's  luxury,]     In  this  place,  as  in  others,  luxury 
means  lust.     Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Lear : 

"  To't,  luxury,  pell-mell,  for  I  lack  soldiers."  Steevens. 
3  —  savage  — ]     Is   here  used  in  the  French  original  sense, 
for  silvan,  uncultivated,  the  same  with  wild.     Johnson. 
VOL.  XVII.  2    A 


354  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

Bour.  Normans,  but  bastard  Normans,  Norman 

bastards ! 
Mori  de  ma  vie!  if  they  march  along 
Unfought  withal,  but  I  will  sell  my  dukedom, 
To  buy  a  slobbery  and  a  dirty  farm 
In  that  nook-shotten  isle  of  Albion 4. 

Con.    Dieu  de  battailes !  where  have   they  this 

mettle  ? 
Is  not  their  climate  foggy,  raw,  and  dull  ? 
On  whom,  as  in  despite  *,  the  sun  looks  pale, 
Killing  their  fruit  with  frowns  ?     Can  sodden  water, 
A  drench  for  sur-rein'd  jades5,  their  barley  broth, 
Decoct  their  cold  blood  to  such  valiant  heat  ? 
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  6 

*  Quarto,  disdain. 

*  In  that  nook-shotten  isle  of  Albion.]  Shorten  signifies 
any  thing  projected  :  so  nook-shotten  isle,  is  an  isle  that  shoots 
out  into  capes,  promontories,  and  necks  of  land,  the  very  figure 
of  Great  Britain.     Warburton. 

The  same  compound  epithet  is  employed  by  Randle  Holme, 
in  his  Academy  of  Armory  and  Blazon,  b.  iii.  c.  ix.  p.  385: 
"  Querke  is  a  nook-shotten  pane  "  [of  glass].     Steevens. 

*  —  Can  sodden  water, 

A  drench  for  sur-rein'd  jades,]  The  exact  meaning  of  sur- 
reyn'd  I  do  not  know.  It  is  common  to  give  horses  over-ridden 
or  feverish,  ground  malt  and  hot  water  mixed,  which  is  called  a 
mash.     To  this  he  alludes.     Steevens. 

The  word  sur-rein'd  occurs  more  than  once  in  the  old  plays. 
So,  in  Jack  Drum's  Entertainment,  1601  : 

"  Writes  he  not  a  good  cordial  sappy  style  ? — 
"  A  sur-rein'd  jaded  wit,  but  he  rubs  on." 
It  should  be  observed  that  the  quartos  1600  and  1608  read  : 

"  A  drench  for  sxvolne  jades."     Steevens. 
I  suppose,  sur-rein'd  means  over-ridden  ;  horses  on  whom  the 
rein  has  remained  too  long.     Malone. 

I  believe  that  sur-rein'd  means  over  worked  or  ridden;  but 
should  suppose  the  word  rather  derived  from  the  reins  of  the 
back,  than  from  those  of  the  bridle.     M.  Mason. 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  V.  355 

Sweat  drops  of  gallant  youth  7  in  our  rich  fields ; 
Poor — we  may  call  them  8,  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, 
To  new-store  France  with  bastard  warriors. 

Bour.  They  bid  us — to  the   English  dancing- 
schools, 
And  teach  lavoltas  high  9,  and  swift  corantos ; 

6  Upon  our  houses'  thatch,  whiles  a  more  frosty  people — ] 
I  cannot  help  supposing,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  that  Shakspeare 
wrote — house-thatch.  House-top  is  an  expression  which  the 
reader  will  find  in  St.  Matthew,  xxiv.  17.     Steevens 

"  Upon  our  houses'  thatch"  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto  has— 
our  houses'  tops. 

The  reading  of  the  folio  is  supported  by  a  passage  in  The 
Tempest : 

"  '  like  winter  drops, 

"  From  eaves  of  reeds." 
Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost : 

"  When  icicles  hang  by  the  tuall,"  &c.     Malone. 

7  —  drops  of  gallant  youTH  — ]  This  is  the  reading  of  the 
folio.     The  quarto  reads — drops  of  youthful  blood.     Malone. 

8  — we  may  call  them,]  May,  which  is  wanting  in  the  old 
copy,  was  added  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

9 — lavoltas  high,]  Sir  T.  Hanmer  observes,  that  in  this 
dance  there  was  much  turning  and  much  capering.  Shakspeare 
mentions  it  more  than  once,  but  never  so  particularly  as  the  au- 
thor of  Muleasses  the  Turk,  a  tragedy,  1610: 

"  Be  pleas'd,  ye  powers  of  night,  and  'bout  me  skip 
"  Your  antick  measures ;  like  to  coal-black  Moors 
"  Dancing  their  high  lavoltoes  to  the  sun, 
"  Circle  me  round  :  and  in  the  midst  I'll  stand, 
"  And  crack  my  sides  with  laughter  at  your  sports." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  May-Day,  1611  : 

" let  the  Bourdeaux  grape 

"  Skip  like  la  volta's  in  their  swelling  veins." 
Again  : 

"  Where  love  doth  dance  la  volta."     Steevens. 
Lavoltas  are  thus  described  by  Sir  John  Davies,  in  his  poem 
called  Orchestra: 

2  A  2 


356  KING  HENRY  V.  act  m. 

Saying,  our  grace  is  only  in  our  heels, 
And  that  we  are  most  lofty  runaways. 

Fr.   King.    Where    is    Mountj6y,   the    herald ; 
speed  him  hence ; 
Let  him  greet  England  with  our  sharp  defiance. — 
Up,  princes  ;  and,  with  spirit  of  honour  edg'd, 
More  sharper  than  your  swords,  hie  to  the  field  : 
Charles  De-la-bret,  high  constable  of  France  ' ; 
You  dukes  of  Orleans,  Bourbon,  and  of  Berry, 
Alencon,  Brabant,  Bar,  and  Burgundy  ; 

"  Yet  is  there  one  the  most  delightful  kind, 

"  A  lofty  jumping,  or  a  leaping  round, 
"  Where  arm  in  arm,  two  dancers  are  entwin'd, 

"  And  whirl  themselves  in  strict  embracements  bound, 
"  And  still  their  feet  an  anapest  do  sound  : 
"  An  anapest  is  all  their  musick's  song, 
"  Whose  first  two  feet  is  short,  and  third  is  long. 
"  As  the  victorious  twins  of  Leda  and  Jove 

**  That  taught  the  Spartans  dancing  on  the  sands 
"  Of  swift  Eurotas,  dance  in  heaven  above  ; 
"  Knit  and  united  with  eternal  hands, 
"  Among  the  stars  their  double  image  stands, 
"  Where  both  are  carried  with  an  equal  pace, 
"  Together  jumping  in  their  turning  race."     Reed. 
A  very  amusing  account  of  this  dance  is  to  be  found  in  Mr. 
Douce's  Illustrations  of  Shakspeare,  vol.  i.  p.  489.     Boswell. 

1  Charles  De-la-bret,  &c]  Milton  somewhere  bids  the  English 
take  notice  how  their  names  are  misspelt  by  foreigners,  and 
seems  to  think  that  we  may  lawfully  treat  foreign  names,  in 
return,  with  the  same  neglect.  This  privilege  seems  to  be  ex- 
ercised in  this  catalogue  of  French  names,  which,  since  the 
sense  of  the  author  is  not  affected,  I  have  left  as  I  found  it. 

Johnson. 
I  have  changed  the  spelling ;  for  I  know  not  why  we  should 
leave  blunders  or  antiquated  orthography  in  the  proper  names, 
when  we  have  been  so  careful  to  remove  them  both  from  all 
other  parts  of  the  text.  Instead  of  Charles  De-la-bret,  we 
should  read  Charles  D'Albret,  but  the  metre  will  not  allow  of  it. 

Steevens. 
Shakspeare   followed    Holinshed's    Chronicle,    in   which   the 
Constable  is  called  Delabreth,  as  he  here  is  in  the  folio. 

Malone.    , 


sc.  v.  KING  HENRY  V.  357 

Jaques  Chatillion,  Rambures,  Vaudemont, 
Beaumont,  Grandpre,  Roussi,  and  Fauconberg, 
Foix,  Lestrale,  Bouciqualt,  and  Charolois ; 
High   dukes,    great   princes,    barons,    lords,    and 

knights 2, 
For  your  great  seats,  now  quit  you  of  great  shames. 
Bar  Harry  England,  that  sweeps  through  our  land 
With  pennons  3  painted  in  the  blood  of  Harfleur : 
Rush  on  his  host,  as  doth  the  melted  snow 4 


2  — and  knights,]  The  old  copy  reads — kings.  The  emen- 
dation is  Mr.  Theobald's.  It  is  confirmed  by  a  line  in  the  last 
scene  of  the  fourth  Act : 

" princes,  barons,  lords,  knights."     Malone. 

3  With  pennons  — ]  Pennons  armorial  were  small  flags,  on 
which  the  arms,  device,  and  motto  of  a  knight  were  painted. 

Pennon  is  the  same  as  pendant.  So,  in  The  Stately  Moral  of 
the  Three  Lords  of  London,  1590: 

**  In  glittering  gold  and  particolour'd  plumes, 
"With  curious  pendants  on  their  launces  fix'd,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Chaucer's  Knyghtes  Tale,  v.  980,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edi- 
tion : 

<l  And  by  his  banner  borne  is  his  penon 
"  Of  gold  ful  riche,  in  which  there  was  ybete 
' '  The  Minotaure  which  that  he  slew  in  Crete." 
In  MS.  Harl.  No.  2413,  is  the  following  note: 

"  Penon. 
"  A  penon  must  bee  towyardes  and  a  halfe  longe,  made  round 
att  the  end,  and  conteyneth  the  armes  of  the  owner,  and  servith 
for  the  conduct  of  fiftie  men. 

"  Everye  knight  may  have  his  pennon  if  hee  bee  cheefe  cap- 
taine,  and  in  it  sett  his  armes  :  and  if  hee  bee  made  bannerett, 
the  kinge  or  the  lieftenant  shall  make  a  slitt  in  the  end  of  the 
pennon,  and  the  heralds  shall  raise  it  out. 
"  Pencelles. 
*'  Pencells  or  fiagges  for  horsemen  must  bee  ayarde  and  a  halfe 
longe,  with  the  crosses  of  St.  George,"  &.c.     Steevens. 

*  —  melted  snow — ]  The  poet  has  here  defeated  himself  by 
passing  too  soon  from  one  image  to  another.  To  bid  the  French 
rush  upon  the  English  as  the  torrents  formed  from  melted  snow 
stream  from  the  Alps,  was  at  once  vehement  and  proper,  but  its 
force  is  destroyed  by  the  grossness  of  the  thought  in  the  next  line. 

Johnson. 


358  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

Upon  the  vallies ;  whose  low  vassal  seat 
The  Alps  doth  spit  and  void  his  rheum  upon  5 : 
Go  down  upon  him, — you  have  power  enough, — 
And  in  a  captive  chariot,  into  Rouen 
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'll  drop  his  heart  into  the  sink  of  fear, 
And,  for  achievement,  offer  us  his  ransom  6. 

Fr.  King.  Therefore,  lord  constable,  haste  on 
Montjoy ; 
And  let  him  say  to  England,  that  we  send 

5  The  Alps  doth  spit  and  void  his  rheum  upon  :] 

Jupiter  hybernas  cana  nive  conspuit  Alpes. 

Fur.  Bibac.  ap  Hor. 
Steevens. 

6  He'll  drop  his  heart  into  the  sink  of  fear, 

And,  for  achievement,  offer  us  his  ransom.]  I  can  make 
no  sense  of  these  words  as  they  stand,  though  it  is  to  be  sup- 
posed that  the  editors  understood  them,  since  they  have  passed 
them  by  unnoticed.  I  have  little  doubt  but  the  words  his  and  for, 
in  the  last  line,  have  been  misplaced,  and  that  the  line  should  run 
thus  : 

"  And  his  achievement  offer  us  for  ransom." 
And  accordingly  the  King  of  France  sends  to  Henry  to  know  what 
ransom  he  will  give.     By  "his  achievement"  is  meant  '  the  town 
of  Harfleur,  which  Henry  had  taken.'     In  the  former  part  of  this 
Act  he  says  : 

"  I  will  not  leave  the  ha\f-achieved  Harfleur, 
"  Till  in  her  ashes  she  be  buried."     M.  Mason. 
The  first  of  the  two  lines  which  appear  so  obscure  to  Mr.  M. 
Mason,  is  to  me  at  least  sufficiently  intelligible  ;  yet  as  the  idea 
designed  to  be  communicated  by  it,  is  not  only  contemptible  but 
dirty,  I  still  choose  to  avoid  explanation.     Steevens. 

"  And  for  achievement  offer  us  his  ransom."  That  is,  instead 
of  achieving  a  victory  over  us,  make  a  proposal  to  pay  us  a  certain 
surn,  as  a  ransom.     So,  in  Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

<f  For  chair  and  dukedom,  throne  and  kingdom  say." 

Malone. 


sc.  vi.  KING  HENRY  V.  359 

To  know  what  willing  ransom  he  will  give. 

Prince  Dauphin,  you  shall  stay  with  us  in  Rouen 7. 
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. 

Gow.  How  now,  captain  Fluellen?  come  you 
from  the  bridge  ? 

Flu.  I  assure  you,  there  is  very  excellent  service 
committed  at  the  pridge. 

Gorr.  Is  the  duke  of  Exeter  safe  ? 

Flu.  The  duke  of  Exeter  is  as  magnanimous  as 
Agamemnon  ;  and  a  man  that  I  love  and  honour 
with  my  soul,  and  my  heart,  and  my  duty,  and  my 
life,  and  my  livings,  and  my  uttermost  powers  :  he 
is  not,  (God  be  praised,  and  plessed  !)  any  hurt  in 
the  'orld;  but   keeps  the  pridge  most  valiantly8, 

7  —  in  Rouen.]  Here,  and  a  little  higher,  we  have,  in  the  old 
copy — Roan,  which  was,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  the  mode  of  spelling 
Rouen,  in  Normandy.  He  probably  pronounced  the  word  as  a 
monosyllable,  lioan  ;   as  indeed  most  Englishmen  do  at  this  day. 

Malone. 

8  —  but  keeps  the  pridge  most  valiantly,]  This  is  not  an 
imaginary  circumstance,  ^at  founded  on  an  historical  fact.  After 
Henry  had  passed  the  Some,  the  French  endeavoured  to  intercept 
him  in  his  passage  to  Calais  ;  and  for  that  purpose  attempted  to 
break  down  the  only  bridge  that  there  was  over  the  small  river 
of  Ternois,  at  Blangi,  over  which  it  was  necessary  for  Henry  to 
pass.  But  Henry,  having  notice  of  their  design,  sent  a  part  of 
his  troops  before  him,  who,  attacking  and  putting  the  French  to 


360  KING  HENRY  V.  act  m. 

with  excellent  discipline.  There  is  an  ensign  9  there 
at  the  pridge, — I  think,  in  my  very  conscience,  he 
is  as  valiant  as  Mark  Antony ;  and  he  is  a  man  of 
no  estimation  in  the  'orld :  but  I  did  see  him  do 
gallant  service. 

Gow.  What  do  you  call  him  ? 

Flu.  He  is  called — ancient  Pistol. 

Gow.  I  know  him  not. 

Enter  Pistol. 

Flu.  Do  you  not  know  him  ?  Here  comes  the 
man. 

Pist.  Captain,  I  thee  beseech  to  do  me  favours : 
The  duke  of  Exeter  doth  love  thee  well. 

Flu.  Ay,  I  praise  Got;  and  I  have  merited  some 
love  at  his  hands. 

Pist.  Bardolph,    a  soldier,   firm  and  sound  of 
heart, 
Of  buxom  valour1,  hath, — by  cruel  fate, 
And  giddy  fortune's  furious  fickle  wheel, 
That  goddess  blind, 
That  stands  upon  the  rolling  restless  stone  2, — 

flight,  preserved  the  bridge,  till  the  whole  English  army  arrived, 
and  passed  over  it.     Malone. 

9  There  is  an  ensign  — ]  Thus  the  quarto.  The  folio  reads 
—there  is  an  ancient  lieutenant.     Pistol  was  not  a  lieutenant. 

Malone. 

1  Of  buxom  valour,]  i.  e.  valour  under  good  command,  obe- 
dient to  its  superiors.     So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen  : 

"  Love  tyrannizeth  in  the  bitter  smarts 

"  Of  them  that  to  him  are  buxom  and  prone."  Steevens, 

2  That  goddess  blind, 

That  stands  upon  the  rolling  restless  stone,]  Fortune  is 
described  by  Cebes,  and  by  Pacuvius,  in  the  Fragments  of  Latin 
Authors,  p.  60,  and  the  first  book  of  the  pieces  to  Herennius,  pre- 
cisely in  these  words  of  our  poet.  It  is  unnecessary  to  quote 
them.     S.  W. 

"  Rolling  restless  — "  In  an  Ode  to  Concord,  which  concludes 
the  fourth  Act  of  Gascoigne's  Jocasta,  we  find  the  same  combiua-* 
tion  of  epithets,  though  applied  to  a  different  object : 


sc.  vi.  KING  HENRY  V.  361 

Flu.  By  your  patience,  ancient  Pistol.  Fortune 
is  painted  plind,  with  a  muffler  before  her  eyes,  to 
signify  to  you  that  fortune  is  plind 3 :  And  she  is 


bred  in  sacred  brest 


".  Of  him  that  rules  the  restlesse-rolling  skie."  Steevens. 

For  this  idea  our  author  seems  indebted  to  The  Spanish  Tra- 
gedy : 

"  Fortune  is  blind, 

"  Whose  foot  is  standing  on  a  rolling  stone."     Ritson. 

3  Fortune  is  painted  plind,  with  a  muffler  before  her  eyes,  to 
signify  to  you  that  fortune  is  plind  :]  Here  the  fool  of  a  player 
was  for  making  a  joke,  as  Hamlet  says,  not  set  down  for  him,  and 
showing  a  most  pitiful  ambition  to  be  witty.  For  Fluellen,  though 
he  speaks  with  his  country  accent,  yet  is  all  the  way  represented 
as  a  man  of  good  plain  sense.  Therefore,  as  it  appears  he  knew 
the  meaning  of  the  term  plind,  by  his  use  of  it,  he  could  never  have 
said  that  "  Fortune  was  painted  plind,  to  signify  she  was  plind." 
He  might  as  well  have  said  afterwards,  "  that  she  was  painted  in- 
constant to  signify  she  was  inconstant."  But  there  he  speaks  sense; 
and  so,  unquestionably,  he  did  here.  We  should  therefore  strike 
out  the  first  plind,  and  read  : 

"  Fortune  is  painted  with  a  muffler,"  &c.     Warburton. 

The  old  reading  is  the  true  one.  Fortune  the  goddess  is  repre- 
sented blind,  to  show  that  fortune,  or  the  chance  of  life,  is  without 
discernment.     Steevens. 

The  picture  of  Fortune  is  taken  from  the  old  history  of  Fortu- 
natus  ;  where  she  is  described  to  be  a  fair  woman,  muffled  over  the 
eyes.     Farmer. 

A  muffler  appears  to  have  been  a  fold  of  linen  which  partially 
covered  a  woman's  face.     So,  in  Monsieur  Thomas,  1639  : 
"  On  with  my  muffler." 

See  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  vol.  viii.  p.  157,  n.  5. 

Steevens. 

Minsheu,  in  his  Dictionary,  1617,  explains  "a  woman's  muffler," 
by  the  French  word  cachenez,  which  Cotgrave  defines  "  a  kind  of 
mask  for  the  face  ;  "  yet,  I  believe,  it  was  made  of  linen,  and  that 
Minsheu  only  means  to  compare  it  to  a  mask,  because  they  both 
might  conceal  part  of  the  face.  It  was,  I  believe,  a  kind  of  hood, 
of  the  same  form  as  the  riding-hood  now  sometimes  worn  by  men, 
that  covered  the  shoulders,  and  a  great  part  of  the  face.  This 
agrees  with  the  only  other  passage  in  which  the  word  occurs  in 
these  plays  :  "  —  I  spy  a  great  beard  under  her  muffler"  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor.  See  also  the  verses  cited  from  the  Cobler's 
Prophecy,  vol.  iv.  p.  273  ; 


362  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

painted  also  with  a  wheel :  to  signify  to  you,  which 
is  the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning,  and  incon- 
stant, and  variations,  and  mutabilities:  and  her 
foot,  look  you,  is  fixed  upon  a  spherical  stone, 
which  rolls,  and  rolls,  and  rolls  ; — In  good  truth  4, 
the  poet  is  make  a  most  excellent  description  of 
fortune  :  fortune,  look  you,  is  an  excellent  moral. 
Pist.  Fortune  is  Bardolph's  foe,  and  frowns  on 
him; 
For  he  hath  stol'n  a  pix5,  and  hanged  must  'a  be. 


"  Now  is  she  barefast  to  be  seene,  straight  on  her  muffler 

goes  : 
"  Now  is  she  hufft  up  to  the  crowne,   straight  nuzled  to  the 
nose."     Malone. 

*  —  In  good  truth,  &c.]  The  reading  here  is  made  out  of 
two  copies,  the  quarto,  and  the  first  folio.     Malone. 

5  For  he  hath  stol'n  a  pix,]  The  old  editions  read — pax. 
"  And  this  is  conformable  to  history,"  says  Mr.  Pope,  "  a  sol- 
dier (as  Hall  tells  us)  being  hanged  at  this  time  for  such  a  fact." 
Both  Hall  and  Holinshed  agree  as  to  the  point  of  the  theft ;  but 
as  to  the  thing  stolen,  there  is  not  that  conformity  betwixt  them 
and  Mr.  Pope.  It  was  an  ancient  custom,  at  the  celehration  of 
mass,  that  when  the  priest  pronounced  these  words,  "  Pax  Domini 
sit  semper  vobiscum  !  "  both  clergy  and  people  kissed  one  another. 
And  this  was  called  Osculurn  Pads,  the  Kiss  of  Peace,  But 
that  custom  being  abrogated,  a  certain  image  is  now  presented 
to  be  kissed,  which  is  called  a  Pax.  But  it  was  not  this  image 
which  Bardolph  stole  ;  it  was  a  pix,  or  little  chest,  (from  the 
Latin  word,  pixis,  a  box,)  in  which  the  consecrated  host  was  used 
to  be  kept.  "  A  foolish  soldier,"  says  Hall  expressly,  and  Ho- 
linshed after  him,  "  stole  a  pix  out  of  a  church,  and  unreverently 
did  eat  the  holy  hostes  within  the  same  contained."     Theobald. 

What  Theobald  says  is  true,  but  might  have  been  told  in 
fewer  words:  1  have  examined  the  passage  in  Hall.  Yet  Dr. 
Warburton  rejected  that  emendation,  and  continued  Pope's  note 
without  animadversion. 

It  is  pax  in  the  folio,  1623,  but  altered  to  pix  by  Theobald  and 
Sir  T.  Hanmer.  They  signified  the  same  thing.  See  Pax  at 
Mass,  Minsheu's  Guide  into  the  Tongues.  Pix  or  pax  was  a 
little  box  in  which  were  kept  the  consecrated  wafers.     Johnson. 

So,  in  May-Day,  a  comedy,  by  Chapman,  1611  :  "  —  Kiss  the 
pax,  and  be  quiet,  like  your  other  neighbours." 


sc.  vi.  KING  HENRY  V.  363 

A  damned  death ! 

Let  gallows  gape  for  dog,  let  man  go  free, 

And  let  not  hemp  his  wine-pipe  suffocate  : 

But  Exeter  hath  given  the  doom  of  death, 

For  pLv  of  little  price. 

Therefore,  go  speak,  the  duke  will  hear  thy  voice ; 

And  let  not  Bardolph  s  vital  thread  be  cut 


So,  in  The  Downfall  of  Robert  Earl  of  Huntington,  1601 : 
"■  Then  with  this  hallow'd  crucifix, 
"  This  holy  wafer,  and  this  pix." 

That  a  pix  and  a  pax  were  different  things,  may  also  be  seen 
from  the  following  passage  in  The  History  of  our  Blessed  Lady 
of  Loretto,  12mo.  1608,  p.  595  :  "  —  a  cup,  and  a  sprinkle  for 
holy  water,  a  pix  and  a  pax,  all  of  excellent  chrystal,  gold  and 
amber." 

Again,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  677 :  "  —  palmes,  chalices, 
crosses,  vestments,  pixes,  paxes,  and  such  like."     Steevens. 

Pix  is  apparently  right.  In  Henry  the  Vllth's  will  it  is  said  : 
M  Forasmoch  as  we  have  often  and  many  tymes  to  our  inwarde 
regrete  and  displeasure  seen  at  our  Jen,  in  diverse  many  churches 
of  our  reame,  the  holie  sacrament  of  the  aulter,  kept  in  ful 
simple,  and  inhonest  pixes,  spicially  pixes  of  copre  and  tymbre  ; 
we  have  appointed  and  commaunded  the  treasurer  of  our  chambre, 
and  maistre  of  our  juell-houss,  to  cause  to  be  made  furthwith, 
pixes  of  silver  and  gilt,  in  a  greate  nombre,  for  the  keeping  of  the 
holie  sacrament  of  the  aultre,  after  the  faction  of  a  pixe  that  we 
have  caused  to  be  delivered  to  theim.  Every  of  the  said  pixes  to 
be  of  the  value  of  iiii/.  garnished  with  our  armes,  and  rede  roses 
and  poart-colis  crowned."     P.  38.     Reed. 

The  old  copies  have  pax,  which  was  a  piece  of  board  on 
which  the  image  of  Christ  on  the  cross  ;  which  the  people  used 
to  kiss  after  the  service  was  ended. 

I  have  adopted  Mr.  Theobald's  emendation,  for  the  reason  which 
he  assigns. 

Holinshed  (whom  our  author  followed)  says,  "  a  foolish  soldier 
stole  a  pixe  out  of  a  church,  for  which  cause  he  was  apprehended, 
and  the  king  would  not  once  more  remove  till  the  box  was  re- 
stored, and  the  offender  strangled." 

The  following,  as  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  has  elsewhere  observed,  is  one 
of  the  Ordinances  des  Battailes,  9  R.  II. : 

"  Item,  que  nul  soit  si  hardi  de  toucher  le  corps  de  noster 
Seigneur,  ni  le  vessel  en  quel  il  est,  sur  peine  d'estre  trainez  et 
pendu,  et  le  teste  avoir  coupe."     MS.  Cotton,  Nero,  D  6. 

Malone. 


364  KING  HENRY  V.,  act  m. 

With  edge  of  penny  cord,  and  vile  reproach  : 
Speak,  captain,  for  his  life,  and  I  will  thee  requite. 

Flu.  Ancient  Pistol,  I  do  partly  understand  your 
meaning. 

Fist.  Why  then  rejoice  therefore  6. 

Flu.  Certainly,  ancient,  it  is  not  a  thing  to  re- 
joice at :  for  if,  look  you,  he  were  my  brother,  I 
would  desire  the  duke  to  use  his  goot  pleasure,  and 
put  him  to  executions  ;  for  disciplines  ought  to  be 
used. 

Pist.  Die  and  be  damn'd ;  and  Jigo  for  thy  friend- 
ship7 ! 

Flu.  It  is  well. 

Pist.  The  fig  of  Spain 8 !  [Exit  Pistol. 

6  Why  then  rejoi£%  therefore.]  This  passage,  with  several 
others  in  the  character  of  Pistol,  is  ridiculed  by  Ben  Jonson,  in 
The  Poetaster,  as  follows : 

"  Why  then  lament  therefore  ;  damn'd  be  thy  guts 
"  Unto  king  Pluto's  hell,  and  princely  Erebus  ; 
"  For  sparrows  must  have  food."     Steevens. 
The  former   part   of  this  psssage,  in   The   Poetaster,  seems 
rather  to  be  a  parody  on  one  of  Pistol's  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. 
p.  224 :  "  Why  then  lament  therefore."     But  probably  in  both 
cases  our  author  had  in  his  thoughts  a  very  contemptible  play  of 
Marlow's,  The  Massacre  of  Paris  : 

"  The  Guise  is  dead,  and  I  rejoice  therefore."     Malone. 
?  — figo  for  thy  friendship!]     This  expression  occurs  like- 
wise in  Ram-Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,   1610  : 

" water  at  the  dock  ; 

"  Afico  for  her  dock." 
Again  : 

"  A  jico  for  the  sun  and  moon."     Steevens. 
8  The  fig  of  Spain  !]     This  is  no  allusion  to  the^co  already 
explained  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  but  to  the  custom  of  giving 
poisoned  figs  to  those  who  were  the  objects  either  of  Spanish  or 
Italian  revenge.     The  quartos  1600  and  1608  read:   "  The  fig 
of  Spain   within  thy  jaw  :  "  and  afterwards  :   "  The  fig  within 
thy  bowels  and  thy  dirty  maw." 
So,  in  The  Fleire,  1610,  a  comedy: 
"  Fel.  Give  them  a.  fig. 
"  Flo.  Make  them  drink  their  last. 
"  Poison  them." 
Again,  in  The  Brothers,  by  Shirley,  1652 : 


sc.  vi.  KING  HENRY  V.  365 

Flu.  Very  good 9. 

Goir.  Why,  this  is  an  arrant  counterfeit  rascal ; 
I  remember  him  now;  a  bawd  ;  a  cutpurse. 

Flu.  I'll  assure  you,  'a  utter'd  as  prave  'ords  at 


"  I  must  poison  him  ;  one  fig  sends  him  to  Erebus." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  Humour: 

"  The  lye  to  a  man  of  my  coat,  is  as  ominous  a  fruit  as  the 
fico." 
Again,  in  one  of  Gascoigne's  Poems  : 

"  It  may  fall  out  that  thou  shalt  be  entic'd 
"  To  sup  sometimes  with  a  magnifico, 
"  And  have  a  fico  foisted  in  thy  dish,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Decker's  Match  Me  in  London,  1631  : 
"  Cor.  Now  do  I  look  for  a. fig. 
"  Gaz.  Chew  none,  fear  nothing." 
And  the  scene  of  this  play  lies  at  Seville. 
Again,  in  The  Noble  Soldier,  1634  : 

'*  ——  Is  it  [poison]  speeding  ?— — 
"  As  all  our  Spanish  figs  are." 
Again,  in  Vittoria  Corombona,  1612  : 

"  I  look  now  for  a  Spanish  fig,  or  an  Italian  sallad,  daily." 

Steevens. 
I  believe  '  the  fig  of  Spain '  is  here  used  only  as  a  term  of 
contempt.     In  the  old  translation    of  Galateo  of   Manners  and 
Behaviour,  p.  81,  we  have  : 

14  She  gave  the  Spanish  figge, 
"  With  both  her  thumbes  at  once," 
saith  Dant. 

And  a  note  says,  "  Fiche  is  the  thrusting  of  the  thumbe  be- 
tweene  the  forefinger;  which  eyther  for  the  worde,  or  the  remem- 
brance of  something  thereby  signified,  is  reputed  amongst  the 
Italians  as  a  word  of  shame."     Reed. 
And,  in  Fulwell's  Art  of  Flattery  : 

"  And  thus  farewell  I  will  returne 

"  To  lady  hope  agayne  ; 
"  And  for  a  token  I  thee  sende 

"  A  doting^o-  qf  Spai/ne."     Henley. 
Mr.  Douce  has  amply  explained  this  phrase  in  his  Illustrations 
of  Shakspeare,  vol.  i.  p.  492.     Boswell. 

9  — Very  good.]     Instead   of  these  two  words,  the  quartos 
read  : 

"  Captain  Gower,  cannot  you  hear  it  lighten  and  thunder  ?  " 

Steevens. 


366  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iij. 

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,  'tis  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  great  commanders' 
names  :  and  they  will  learn  you  by  rote,  where  ser- 
vices were  done  ; — at  such  and  such  a  sconce  1i  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 2,  and  a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp 3,  will  do  among 

1  — a  sconce,]  Appears  to  have  been  some  hasty,  rude, 
inconsiderable  kind  of  fortification.  Sir  Thomas  Smythe,  in  one 
of  his  Discourses  on  the  Art  Military,  1589,  mentions  them  in 
the  following  manner :  "  —  and  that  certain  sconces  by  them 
devised,  without  any  bulwarks,  flanckers,  travasses,  mounts, 
platformes,  wet  or  drie  ditches,  in  forme,  with  counterscarps, 
or  any  other  good  forme  of  fortification  ;  but  only  raised  and 
formed  with  earth,  turfe,  trench,  and  certen  poynts,  angles,  and 
indents,  should  be  able  to  hold  out  the  enemie,"  &c.  Steevens. 

So,  Falstaff,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor :  "  I  will  en- 
sconce (i.  e.  entrench)  myself  behind  the  arras."     Blackstone. 

2  —  a  beard  of  the  general's  cut,]  It  appears  from  an  old 
ballad  inserted  in  a  Miscellany,  entitled  Le  Prince  d'Amour,  8vo. 
1660,  that  our  ancestors  were  very  curious  in  the  fashion  of  their 
beards,  and  that  a  certain  cut  or  form  was  appropriated  to  the 
soldier,  the  bishop,  the  judge,  the  clown,  &c.  The  spade-beard, 
and  perhaps  the  stiletto-beard  also,  was  appropriated  to  the  first 
of  these  characters.  It  is  observable  that  our  author's  patron, 
Henry  Earl  of  Southampton,  who  spent  much  of  his  time  in 
camps,  is  drawn  with  the  latter  of  these  beards ;  and  his  unfor- 
tunate friend,  Lord  Essex,  is  constantly  represented  with  the 
former.  In  the  ballad  above  mentioned  the  various  forms  of  this 
fantastick  ornament  are  thus  described  : 

*'  Now  of  beards  there  be, 
"  Such  a  companie, 

"  Of  fashions  such  a  throng, 


sc.  ft.  KING  HENRY  V.  367 

foaming  bottles,  and  ale-washed  wits,  is  wonderful 
to  be  thought  on !  but  you  must  learn  to  know 
such  slanders  of  the  age4,  or  else  you  may  be  mar- 
vellous mistook. 

Flu.    I   tell  you  what,   captain  Gower ; — I  do 
perceive,  he  is  not  the  man  that  he  would  gladly 

"  That  it  is  very  hard 
"  To  treat  of  the  beard, 

"  Though  it  be  ne'er  so  long. 

*  •*         * 

"  The  steeletto  beard, 
"  O,  it  makes  me  afeard, 

"  It  is  so  sharp  beneath  ; 
"  For  he  that  doth  place 
"  A  dagger  in  his  face, 

"  What  wears  he  in  his  sheath  ? 

#  *         * 

"  The  soldiers  beard, 

"  Doth  match  in  this  herd, 

"  In  figure  like  a  spade  ; 
"  With  which  he  will  make 
"  His  enemies  quake, 

"  To  think  their  grave  is  made. 

"  Next  the  cloxvn  doth  out-rush, 

"  With  the  beard  of  the  bush,"  &c.     Malone. 

3  —  a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp,]  Thus  the  folio.  The 
quartos  1600,  &c.  read — •*  a  horrid  shout  of  the  camp." 

Steevens. 
Suit,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  the  true  reading.     Soldiers  shout  in  a 
Jield  of  battle,  but  not  in  a  camp.     Suit,  in  our  author's  time,  ap- 
pears to  have  been  pronounced  shoot :  (See  vol.  iv.  p.  348,  n.  1.) 
hence  probably  the  corrupt  reading  of  the  quarto.     Malone. 

■*  —  such  slanders  of  the  age,]  This  was  a  character  very 
troublesome  to  wise  men  in  our  author's  time.  "  It  is  the  prac- 
tice with  him  (says  Ascham)  to  be  warlike,  though  he  never 
looked  enemy  in  the  face ;  yet  some  warlike  sign  must  be  used, 
as  a  slovenly  buskin,  or  an  over-staring  frownced  head,  as  though 
out  of  every  hair's  top  should  suddenly  start  a  good  big  oath." 

Johnson. 
Pistol's  character  seems  to  have  been  formed  on  that  of  Basi- 
lisco,  a  cowardly  braggart  in  Solyman  and  Persida,  which  was 
performed  before  1592.     A  basilisk  is  the  name  of  a  great  gun. 

Malone. 


368  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

make  show  to  the  'orld  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  5. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Gloster,  and  Soldiers  . 

Flu.  Got  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  gal- 
lant 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  ? 

Flu.  The  perdition  of  th'athversary  hath  been 
very  great,  very  reasonable  great :  marry,  for  my 
part,  1  think  the  duke  hath  lost  never  a  man,  but 
one  that  is  like  to  be  executed  for  robbing  a  church, 

*  —  I  must  speak  with  him  from  the  pridge.]  "  Speak  tvith  him 
from  the  pridge,  (Mr.  Pope  tells  us,)  is  added  to  the  latter 
editions ;  but  that  it  is  plain,  from  the  sequel,  that  the  scene 
here  continues,  and  the  affair  of  the  bridge  is  over."  This  is  a 
most  inaccurate  criticism.  Though  the  affair  of  the  bridge  be 
over,  is  that  a  reason,  that  the  king  must  receive  no  intelligence 
from  thence  ?  Fluellen,  who  comes  from  the  bridge,  wants  to 
acquaint  the  king  with  the  transactions  that  had  happened  there. 
This  he  calls  speaking  to  the  king  from  the  bridge.     Theobald. 

With  this  Dr.  Warburton  concurs.     Johnson. 

The  words,  "  from  the  bridge,"  are  in  the  folio  1623,  but  not 
in  the  quarto ;  and  I  suspect  that  they  were  caught  by  the  com- 
positor from  King  Henry's  first  speech  on  his  entrance.  Malone. 

6  —  and  Soldiers!]  The  direction  in  the  folio  is — "  Enter  the 
King  and  his  poor  Soldiers."  This  was,  I  suppose,  inserted,  that 
their  appearance  might  correspond  with  the  subsequent  descrip- 
tion in  the  chorus  of  Act  IV. : 

"  The  poor  condemned  English,"  &c.     Malone. 


sc.  /v.  KING  HENRY  V.  369 

one  Bardolph,  if  your  majesty  know  the  man :  his 
face  is  all  bubukles,  and  whelks,  and  knobs  7,  and 
flames  of  fire :  and  his  lips  plows  at  his  nose,  and  it 
is  like  a  coal  of  fire,  sometimes  plue,  and  some- 
times red ;  but  his  nose  is  executed 8,  and  his  fire's 
out9. 

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,  nothing  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. 

7 —  and  whelks,  and  knobs,"]  So,  in  Chaucer's  character  of 
a  Sompnour,  from  which,  perhaps,  Shakspeare  took  some  hints 
for  his  description  of  Bardolph's  face  : 

"  A  Sompnour  was  ther  with  us  in  that  place 
"  That  hadde  a  fire-red  cherubinnes  face,  &c. 


"  Ther  n'as  quicksilver,  litarge,  ne  brimston, 
"  Boras,  ceruse,  ne  oile  of  tartre  non, 
"  Ne  oinement  that  wolde  dense  or  bite, 
M  That  might  him  helpen  of  his  vohelkes  white, 
"  Ne  of  the  knobbes  sitting  on  his  chekes." 
See   the  Prologue  to  the   Canterbury  Tales,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's 
edition,  v.  628,  &c.     Steevens. 

8  —  but  his  nose  is  executed,  &c]  It  appears  from  what 
Pistol  has  just  said  to  Fluellen,  that  Bardolph  was  not  yet  exe- 
cuted ;  or,  at  least,  that  Fluellen  did  not  know  that  he  was  exe- 
cuted. But  Fluellen's  language  must  not  be  too  strictly  examined. 

A  passage  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  II.  may  serve  to  show  that 
there  is  no  error  here.  Cade,  after  he  is  wounded,  and  just  as  he 
is  dying,  says :  "  Wither  garden,  &c.  because  the  unconquered 
soul  of  Cade  is  fled."     Malone. 

9  —  his  fire's  out.]  This  is  the  last  time  that  any  sport  can 
be  made  with  the  red  face  of  Bardolph,  which,  to  confess  the 
truth,  seems  to  have  taken  more  hold  on  Shakspeare's  imagina- 
tion than  on  any  other.  The  conception  is  very  cold  to  the  soli- 
tary reader,  though  it  may  be  somewhat  invigorated  by  the  exhi- 
bition on  the  stage.  This  poet  is  always  more  careful  about  the 
present  than  the  future,  about  his  audience  than  his  readers. 

Johnson. 

VOL,  XVII.  2    B 


370  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ui. 

Tucket  sounds.     Enter  Montjoy  \ 

Moat.  You  know  me  by  my  habit 2. 

K.  Hen.  Well  then,  I  know  thee ;  What  shall  I 
know  of  thee  ? 

Mont.  My  master's  mind. 

K.  Hen.  Unfold  it. 

Mont.  Thus  says  my  king  : — Say  thou  to  Harry 
of  England,  Though  we  seemed  dead,  we  did  but 
sleep3;  Advantage  is  a  better  soldier,  than  rashness. 
Tell  him,  we  could  have  rebuked  him  at  Harfleur ; 
but  that  we  thought  not  good  to  bruise  an  injury, 
till  it  were  full  ripe  : — now  we  speak  upon  our  cue 4, 
and  our  voice  is  imperial :  England  shall  repent  his 
folly,  see  his  weakness,  and  admire  our  sufferance. 
Bid  him,  therefore,  consider  of  his  ransom ;  which 
must  proportion  the  losses  we  have  borne,  the  sub- 
jects 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  dis- 
grace, his  own  person,  kneeling  at  our  feet,  but  a 
weak  and  worthless  satisfaction.  To  this  add — 
defiance  :  and  tell  him,  for  conclusion,  he  hath  be- 
trayed his  followers,  whose   condemnation  is  pro- 


1  Enter  Montjoy.]  Mont-joie  is  the  title  of  the  first  king  at 
arms  in  France,  as  Garter  is  in  our  own  country.     Steevens. 

2  —  by  my  habit.]  That  is,  by  his  herald's  coat.  The 
person  of  a  herald  being  inviolable,  was  distinguished  in  those 
times  of  formality  by  a  peculiar  dress,  which  is  likewise  yet  worn 
on  particular  occasions.     Johnson. 

3  —  Though  we  seemed  dead,  we  did  but  sleep ;]  So,  in  Mea- 
sure for  Measure  : 

"  The  law  hath  not  been  dead,  though  it  hath  slept." 

Mai.one. 
*  —  upon  our  cue,]     In  our  turn.     This  phrase  the  author 
learned  among  players,  and  has  imparted  it  to  kings.     Johnson. 


sc.  vj.  KINO  HENRY  V.  37 1 

nounced.     So  far  my  king  and  master ;  so  milch 
my  office  *; 

K.  Hen.  What  is  thy  name  ?  I  know  thy  quality. 
-  Mont.  Montjoy. 

K.  Hen.  Thou  dost  thy  office  fairly.     Turn  thee 
.*;-*'         back, 

And  tell  thy  king, — I  do  not  seek  him  now ; 
But  could  be  willing  to  march  on  to  Calais 
Without  impeachment 6 :  for,  to  say  the  sooth, 
(Though  'tis  no  wisdom  to  confess  so  much 
Unto  an  enemy  of  craft  and  vantage,) 
My  people  are  with  sickness  much  enfeebled  : 
My  numbers  lessen'd ;  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 
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 ; 

^  —  so  much  my  office.]  This  speech,  as  well  as  another  pre- 
ceding it,  was  compressed  into  verse  by  Mr.  Pope.  Where  he 
wanted  a  syllable,  he  supplied  it,  and  where  there  were  too  many 
for  his  purpose,  he  made  suitable  omissions.  Shakspeare  (if  we 
may  believe  the  most  perfect  copy  of  the  play,  i.  e.  that  in  the 
first  folio,)  meant  both  speeches  for  prose,  and  as  such  I  have 
printed  them.     Steevens. 

6  Without  impeachment  :]  i.  e.  hindrance.  Empechement, 
French.  In  a  book  entitled,  Miracles  lately  wrought  by  the  In- 
tercession of  the  glorious  Virgin  Marie,  at  Mont-aigu,  nere  unto 
Siche  in  Brabant,  &c.  printed  at  Antwerp,  by  Arnold  Conings, 
1606,  I  meet  with  this  word  :  "  Wherefore  he  took  it  and  with- 
out empeschment,  or  resistance,  placed  it  againe  in  the  oke." 

Steevens. 

Impeachment,  in  the  same  sense,  has  always  been  used  as  a 
legal  word  in  deeds,  as, — "  without  impeachment  of  waste  :  "  i.  e. 
without  restraint  or  hindrance  of  waste.     Reed. 

Without  impeachment  is,  without  being  attacked.  Impeachment, 
the  legal  word,  is  not  from  the  French,  but  the  Latin,  impetere. 
See  Blackstone,  vol.  ii.  p.  288.     Malone. 

o  I5  o 


372  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ///« 

My  ransom,  is  this  frail  and  worthless  trunk ; 
My  army,  but  a  weak  and  sickly  guard  ; 
Yet,  God  before 7,  tell  him  we  will  come  on, 
Through  France  himself,  and  such  another  neigh- 
bour, 
Stand  in  our  way.  There's  for  thy  labour,  Montjoy. 
Go,  bid  thy  master  well  advise  himself: 
If  we  may  pass,  we  will ;  if  we  be  hinder'd, 
We  shall  your  tawny  ground  with  your  red  blood 
Discolour 8 :  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  high- 
ness. [Exit  Montjoy. 

Glo.  I  hope,  they  will  not  come  upon  us  now. 


7  —  God  before,]  This  was  an  expression  in  that  age  for  God 
being  my  guide,  or,  when  used  to  another,  God  be  thy  guide.  So, 
in  An  old  Dialogue  between  a  Herdsman  and  a  Maiden  going  on 
a  Pilgrimage  to  Walsingham,  the  herdsman  takes  his  leave  in 
these  words : 

"  Now,  go  thy  ways,  and  God  before.'" 
To  prevent  was  used  in  the  same  sense.     Johnson. 

8  —  There's  for  thy  labour,  Montjoy, 

Go,  bid  thy  master  well  advise  himself: — 
We  shall  your  tawny  ground  with  your  red  blood 
Discolour  :]  From  Holinshed  :  "  My  desire  is,  that  none 
of  you  be  so  unadvised,  as  to  be  the  occasion  that  1  in  my  defence 
shall  colour  and  make  red  your  tawny  ground  with  the  effusion  of 
christian  bloud.  When  he  [Henry]  had  thus  answered  the  he- 
rauld,  he  gave  him  a  greate  rewarde,  and  licensed  him  to  depart." 

Malone. 
It  appears  from   many  ancient  books  that  it  was  always  cus- 
tomary to  reward  a  herald,   whether  he  brought  defiance  or  con- 
gratulation.    So,  in  the  ancient  metrical  history  of  The  Battle  of 
Floddon  : 

"  Then  gave  he  to  the  herald's  hand, 
"  Besides,  with  it,  a  rich  reward; 
"  Who  hasten'd  to  his  native  land 

"  To  see  how  with  his  king  it  far'd."     Stekvens. 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  373 

K.  Hen.  We  are  in  God's  hand,  brother,  not  in 
theirs. 
March  to  the  bridge ;  it  now  draws  toward  night  :-— " 
Beyond  the  river  we'll  encamp  ourselves ; 
And  on  to-morrow  bid  them  march  away. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII.9 

The  French  Camp,  near  Agincourt. 

Enter  the  Constable  of  France,  the  Lord  Rambures, 
the  Duke  of  Orleans,  Dauphin,  and  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  con- 
stable, you  talk  of  horse  and  armour, — 

Orl.  You  are  as  well  provided  of  both,  as  any 
prince  in  the  world. 

Dau.  What  a  long  night  is  this ! 1  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  hairs1 ;  le  cheval  volant,  the 
Pegasus,  qui  a  les  narines  defeu !  When  I  bestride 
him,  I  soar,  I  am  a  hawk:  he  trots  the  air;  the 

9  —  Scene  VII.]  This  scene  is  shorter,  and  I  think  better,  in 
the  first  editions  of  1600  and  1608.  But  as  the  enlargements 
appear  to  be  the  author's  own,  I  would  not  omit  them.     Popb. 

*  He  bounds  from  the  earth,  as  if  his  entrails  were  hairs  :] 
Alluding  to  the  bounding  of  tennis-balls,  which  were  stuffed  with 
hair,  as  appears  from  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  :  "  And  the  old 
ornament  of  his  cheek  hath  already  stufFd  tennis-balls." 

Wafburton. 


374  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

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. 

Dau.  And  of  the  heat  of  the  ginger.  It  is  a 
beast  for  Perseus  :  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'3. 

2  —  he  is  pure  air  and  fire;  and  the  dull  elements  of  earth 
and  water  never  appear  in  him,]  Thus  Cleopatra,  speaking  of 
herself : 

"  I  am  air  and  f  re;  my  other  elements 
"  I  give  to  baser  life."     Steevens. 
So,  in  our  author's  44th  Sonnet  : 

" so  much  of  earth  and  water  wrought, 

"  I  must  attend  time's  leisure  with  my  moan." 
Again,  in  Twelfth  Night :  "Do  not  our  lives  consist  of  the  four 
elements?"     Malone. 

3  — and  all  other  jades  you  may  call — beasts.]  It  is  plain 
that  jades  and  beasts  should  change  places,  it  being  the  first  word, 
and  not  the  last,  which  is  the  term  of  reproach  ;  as  afterwards  it 
is  said : 

"  I  had  as  lief  have  my  mistress  a  jade."     Warburton. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  this  change.     In  The  Second  Part  of 
King  Henry  IV.  Sc.  I.  : 

•'  ■ he  gave  his  able  horse  the  head, 

"  And,  bending  forward,  struck  his  armed  heels 
"  Against  the  panting  sides  of  the  poor  jade." 
Again,  in  Arthur  Hall's  translation  of  the  4th  Iliad  : 
"  Two  horses  tough  ech  one  it  [his  chariot]  hath,  the  jades  they 

are  not  dul, 
"  Of  bailey  white,  of  rie  and  oates,  they  feede  in  mangier  full." 
Jade  is  sometimes  used  for  a  post  horse.     Beast  is  always  em- 
ployed as  a  contemptuous  distinction.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" what  beast  was't  then 

"  That  made  you  break  this  enterprize  to  me  ?  " 
Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens  :   "  —  what  a  wicked  beast  was  1  to 
disfurnish  myself  against  so  good  a  time  !  "     Steevens. 

I  agree  with  Warburton  in  supposing  that  the  words — beasts 
and  jades  have  changed  places.  Steevens  says,  that  beast  is 
always  employed  as  a  contemptuous  distinction,  and,  to  support 
this  assertion,  he  quotes  a  passage  from  Macbeth,  and  another 
from  Timon,  in  which  it  appears  that  men  were  called   beasts, 


m  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  375 

Cos.  Indeed,  my  lord,  it  is  a  most  absolute  and 
excellent  horse. 

Dau.  It  is  the  prince  of  palfreys;  his  neigh  is 
like  the  bidding  of  a  monarch,  and  his  countenance 
enforces  homage. 

Orl.  No  more,  cousin. 

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 

where  abuse  was  intended.  But  though  the  word  beast  be  a  con- 
temptuous distinction,  as  he  terms  it,  when  applied  to  a  man,  it 
does  not  follow  that  it  should  be  so  when  applied  to  a  horse. 

He  forgets  the  following  speech  in  Hamlet,  which  militates 
strongly  against  his  assertion  : 

" he  grew  unto  his  seat, 

"  And  to  such  wond'rous  doings  brought  his  horse, 
"  As  he  had  been  incorps'd,  and  demi-natur'd 
"  With  the  brave  beast." 
•    But  the  word  jade  is  always  used  in  a  contemptuous  sense ;  and 
in  the  passage  which  Steevens  quotes  from  The  Second  Part  of 
Henry  IV.  the  able  horse  is  called  a  poor  jade,  merely  because  the 
poor  beast  was  supposed  to  be  jaded.     The  word  is  there  an  ex- 
pression of  pity,  not  of  contempt.     M.  Mason. 

I  cannot  forbear  subjoining  two  queries  to  this  note. 

In  the  passage  quoted  by  Mr.  M.  Mason  from  Hamlet,  is  not 
the  epithet  brave  added,  to  exempt  the  word  beast  from  being  re- 
ceived in  a  slight  sense  of  degradation  ? 

Is  not,  in  the  instance  quoted  by  me  from  Henry  IV.  thj2 
epithet  poor  supplied,  to  render jade  an  object  of  compassion  ? 

Jade  is  a  term  of  no  very  decided  meaning.  It  sometimes  sig- 
nifies a  hackney,  sometimes  a  vicious  horse,  and  sometimes  a  tired 
one  ;  and  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking,  in  the  present  instance,  that 
as  a  horse  is  degraded  by  being  called  a.  jade,  so  a  jade  is  vilified 
by  being  termed  a  beast.     Steevens. 

I  do  not  think  there  is  any  ground  for  the  transposition  pro- 
posed by  Dr.  Warburton,  who  would  make  jades  and  beasts 
change  places.  Words  under  the  hand  of  either  a  transcriber  or 
compositor,  never  thus  leap  out  of  their  places.  The  Dauphin 
evidently  means,  that  no  other  horse  has  so  good  a  title  as  his,  to 
the  appellation  peculiarly  appropriated  to  that  fine  and  useful, 
animal.  The  general  term  for  quadrupeds  may  suffice  for  all 
other  horses.     Malone.  ; 


376  KING  HENRY  V.  act  in. 

eloquent  tongues,  and  my  horse  is  argument  for 
them  all :  'tis  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  Nature4, — 

Orl.  I  have  heard  a  sonnet  begin  so  to  one's 
mistress. 

Dau.  Then  did  they  imitate  that  which  I  com- 
posed 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.  Ma  joy  !  the  other  day,  methought,  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  Kerne  of  Ireland,  your  French 
hose  off,  and  in  your  strait  trossers  5. 

4  —  Wonder  of  Nature,"]  Here,  I  suppose,  some  foolish  poem 
of  our  author's  time  is  ridiculed  ;  which  indeed  partly  appears  from 
the  answer.     Warburton. 

In  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  IV.  Shakspeare 
himself  uses  the  phrase  which  he  here  seems  to  ridicule  : 
"  Be  not  offended,  nature's  miracle  !  "     Malone. 

The  phrase  is  only  reprehensible  through  its  misapplication.  It 
is  surely  proper  when  applied  to  a  tvoman,  but  ridiculous  indeed 
when  addressed  to  a  horse.     Steevens. 

5  —  like  a  Kerne  of  Ireland,  your  French  hose  off,  and  in  your 
strait  trosseks.]  This  word  very  frequently  occurs  in  the  old 
dramatick  writers.  A  man  in  The  Coxcomb  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  speaking  to  an  Irish  servant,  says,  "  I'll  have  thee  flead, 
and  trossers  made  of  thy  skin,  to  tumble  in."  Trossers  appear  to 
have  been  tight  breeches. — The  Kernes  of  Ireland  anciently  rode 
without  breeches,  and  therefore  strait  trossers,  1  believe,  means 
only  in  their  naked  skin,  which  sits  close  to  them.  The  word  is 
still  preserved,  but  now  written — trowsers.  Thus,  says  Randle 
Holme,  in  his  Academy  of  Arms  and  Blazon,  b.  iii.  ch.  iii. :  "The 


#c.  vjj.  KING  HEISRY  V.  377 

Con.  You  have  good  judgment  in  horsemanship. 
Dau.  Be  warned  by  me   then :   they  that  ride 

Spanish  breeches  are  those  that  are  st ret  and  close  to  the  thigh,  and 
are  buttoned  up  the  sides  from  the  knee  with  about  ten  or  twelve 
buttons  :  anciently  called  troivses."     Steevens. 

"  Trowses,  (says  the  explanatory  Index  to  Cox's  History  of 
Ireland,)  are  breeches  and  stockings  made  to  sit  as  close  to  the 
body  as  can  be  "  Several  of  the  morris-dancers  represented  upon 
the  print  of  my  window  have  such  hose  or  strait  trowsers ;  but  the 
poet  seems,  by  the  waggish  context,  to  have  a  further  meaning. 

Tollet. 
The  following  rassage  in  Heywood's  Challenge  for  Beauty, 
1636,  proves  that  the  ancient  Irish  trousers  were  somewhat  more 
than  mere  buff: 

"  Manhunt.  No,  for  my  money  give  me  your  substantial  Eng- 
lish hose,  round,  and  somewhat  full  afore. 

"  Maid.  Now  they  are,  methinks,  a  little  too  great. 
"  Manh.  The  more  the  discretion  of  the  landlord  that  builds 
them, — he  makes  room  enough  for  his  tenant  to  stand  upright  in 
them  ; — he  may  walk  in  and  out  at  ease  without  stooping :  but  of 
all  the  rest  I  am  clean  out  of  love  with  your  Irish  trowses ;  they 
are  for  all  the  world  like  a  jealous  wife,  always  close  at  a  man's 
tayle." 

The  speaker  is  here  circumstantially  describing  the  fashions  of 
different  countries.  So  again,  in  Bulwer's  Pedigree  of  the  English 
Gallant,  1653  :  "  Bombasted  and  paned  hose  were,  since  I  re- 
member, in  fashion  ;  but  now  our  hose  are  made  so  close  to  our 
breeches,  that,  like  Irish  trowses,  they  too  manifestly  discover  the 
dimension  of  every  part."  In  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  the  word  is 
spelt  strouces.     Collins. 

The  old  copy  reads — strossers.  The  correction  was  made  by 
Mr.  Theobald ;  who  observes,  that  "  by  strait  trossers  the  poet 
means  Jemoribus  denudatis,  for  the  Kerns  of  Ireland  wore  no 
breeches,  any  more  than  the  Scotch  Highlanders."  The  explica- 
tion is,  I  think,  right ;  but  that  the  Kerns  of  Ireland  universally 
rode  without  breeches,  may  be  doubted.  It  is  clear,  from  Mr. 
Toilet's  note,  and  from  many  passages  in  books  of  our  author's 
age,  that  the  Irish  strait  trossers  or  trowsers  were  not  merely 
Jigurative ;  though  in  consequence  of  their  being  made  extremelv 
tight,  Shakspeare  has  here  employed  the  words  in  an  equivocal 
sense. 

When  Sir  John  Perrot,  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland  in  1585,  in- 
sisted on  the  Irish  nobility  wearing  the  English  dress,  and  appear- 
ing in  parliament  in  robes,  one  of  them,  being  very  loth  to  change 
his  old  habit,  requested  that  the  deputy  would  order  his  chaplain 


378  KING  HENRY  V.  act  hi. 

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 
her  own  hair. 

Con.  I  could  make  as  true  a  boast  as  that,  if  I 
had  a  sow  to  my  mistress. 

Dau.  Le  chien  est  retourne  a  son  propre  vomisse- 
ment,  et  la  truie  lavee  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  stars6,  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  super- 
fluously; and,  'twere  more  honour,  some  were  away. 

Con.  Even  as  your  horse  bears  your  praises  :  who 
would  trot  as  well,  were  some  of  your  brags  dis- 
mounted. 

Dau.  'Would,  I  were  able  to  load  him  with  his 
desert !  Will  it  never  be  day  ?  I  will  trot  to-mor- 


to  walk  through  the  streets  with  him  in  trowses,   "  for  then,  (said 
he,)  the  boys  will  laugh  at  him  as  well  as  me." 

See  also  Ware's  Antiquities  and  History  of  Ireland,  ch.  ii.  edit. 
1705  :  "  Of  the  other  garments  of  the  Irish,  namely  of  their  little 
coats  and  strait  breeches,  called  trouses,  I  have  little  worth  notice 
to  deliver."     Malone. 

6  —  the  armour — are  those  stars,  &c]  This  circumstance  of 
military  finery  is  alluded  to  by  Sidney,  in  his  Astrophel  and 
Stella :' 

"  But  if  I  by  a  happy  window  passe, 
"  If  I  but  start es  upon  my  armour  beare — 
"  Your  mortall  notes  straight  my  hid  meaning  teare — ." 

Steeven*. 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  3/9 

row  a  mile,  and  my  way  shall  be  paved  with  Eng- 
lish 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  twenty 
English  prisoners  7  ? 

Con.  You  must  first  go  yourself  to  hazard,  ere 
you  have  them. 

Dau.  Tis  midnight,  I'll  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  gal- 
lant 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. 

Orl.  He  never  did  harm,  that  I  heard  of. 

Con.  Nor  will  do  none  to-morrow ;  he  will  keep 
that  good  name  still. 

Orl.  I  know  him  to  be  valiant. 

Con.  I  was  told  that,  by  one  that  knows  him 
better  than  you. 

Orl.  What's  he? 

Con.  Marry,  he  told  me  so  himself;  and  he  said, 
he  cared  not  who  knew  it. 

7  Who  will  go  to  hazard  with  me  for  twenty  English  prisoners  ?] 
So,  in  the  old  anonymous  Henry  V. : 

"  Come  and  you  see  what  me  tro  at  the  king's  drummer  and 
fife." 

"  Faith,  me  will  tro  at  the  earl  of  Northumberland  ;  and  now  1 
will  tro  at  the  king  himself,"  &c. 

This  incident,  however,  might  have  been  furnished  by  the  Chro- 
nicle.    Steevens. 

See  p.  385,  h.  6.     Malone. 


380  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ur. 

Orl.  He  needs  not,  it  is  no  hidden  virtue  in 
him. 

Con.  By  my  faith,  sir,  but  it  is  ;  never  any  body 
saw  it,  but  his  lackey 8 :  'tis  a  hooded  valour ;  and, 
when  it  appears,  it  will  bate  9. 

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  2. 

8  —  his  lackey  :]     He  has  beaten  nobody  but  his  footboy. 

Johnson. 

9  —  'tis  a  hooded  valour  ;  and,  when  it  appears,  it  will 
bate.]  This  is  said  with  allusion  to  falcons  which  are  kept 
hooded  when  they  are  not  to  fly  at  game,  and,  as  soon  as  the  hood 
is  off,  bait  or  flap  the  wing.  The  meaning  is,  the  Dauphin's  va- 
lour has  never  been  let  loose  upon  an  enemy,  yet,  when  he  makes 
his  first  essay,  we  shall  see  how  he  will  flutter.     Johnson. 

See  vol.  xvi.  p.  359,  n.  3.     Malone. 

"  This  is  a  poor  pun,  taken  from  the  terms  used  in  falconry. 
The  whole  sense  and  sarcasm  depends  upon  the  equivoque  of  one 
word,  viz.  bate,  in  sound,  but  not  in  orthography,  answering  to  the 
term  bait  in  falconry.  When  the  hawk  is  unhooded,  her  first 
action  is  baiting,  that  is,  flapping  her  wings,  as  a  preparation  to 
her  flying  at  the  game.  The  hawk  wants  no  courage,  but  inva- 
riably baits  upon  taking  off  the  hood.  The  Constable  of  France 
sarcastically  says  of  the  Dauphin's  courage,  •  'Tisa  hooded  valour 
(i.  e.  it  is  hid  from  every  body  but  his  lackey,)  and  when  it  ap- 
pears, (by  preparing  to  engage  the  enemy,)  it  will  bate'  (i.  e.  fall 
off,  evaporate) ;  and  not,  as  Dr.  Johnson  supposes,  bluster  ox  flut- 
ter the  wings,  in  allusion  to  the  metaphor."  Suppl.  to  the  Gent. 
Mag.  1 789,  p.  1 1 99.     Steevens. 

1  I  will  cap  that  proverb  — ]  Alluding  to  the  practice  of  capping 
verses.     Johnson. 

2  —  with— A  pox  of  the  devil.]  The  quartos,  1600  and  1608, 
read — "with,  a  jogge  of  the  devil."     Steevens. 

I  think  the  reading  of  the  quartos  is  right.  "  A  jogge  of  the 
devil  "  means  '  the  devil  is  at  your  elbow,  jogging  you."  In  Hey- 
wood's  Epigrams,  1566,  sig.  S.  iii  : 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  381 

Orl.   You  are  the  better  at  proverbs,  by  how 
much — A  fool's  bolt  is  soon  shot.j 
Con.  You  have  shot  over. 
Orl.  'Tis  not  the  first  time  your  were  overshot. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord  high  constable,  the  English  lie 
within  fifteen  hundred  paces  of  your  tent. 

Con.  Who  hath  measured  the  ground  ? 

Mess.  The  lord  Grandpre. 

Con.  A  valiant  and  most  expert  gentleman. — 
Would  it  were  day3! — Alas,  poor  Harry  of  Eng- 
land !  he  longs  not  for  the  dawning,  as  we  do. 

Orl.  What  a  wretched  and  peevish  4  fellow  is 
this  king  of  England,  to  mope  with  his  fat-brained 
followers  so  far  out  of  his  knowledge ! 

Con.  If  the  English  had  any  apprehension,  they 
would  run  away5. 

Orl.  That  they  lack  ;  for  if  their  heads  had  any 
intellectual  armour,  they  could  never  wear  such 
heavy  head-pieces. 

Ram.  That  Island  of  England  breeds  ver/  valiant 
creatures  ;  their  mastiffs  are  of  unmatchable  cou- 
rage. 

"  The  devill  is  dead,  then  hast  thou  lost  a  freende  ; 
"  In  all  thy  doinges,  the  devill  was  at  t'one  end." 

Boswell. 

3  Would  it  were  day !]  Instead  of  this  and  the  succeeding 
speeches,  the  quartos,  1600  and  1608,  conclude  this  scene  with  a 
couplet : 

"  ■ Come,  come  away ; 

*'  The  sun  is  high,  and  we  wear  out  the  day."    Steevens. 

4  —  peevish  — ]  In  ancient  language,  signified — foolish,  silly. 
Many  examples  of  this  are  given  in  a  note  on  Cymbeline,  Act  I. 
Sc.  VII. :   "  He's  strange  and  peevish."     Steevens. 

s  —  they  would  run  away.]  It  has  been  said  that  the  French 
of  the  present  day  still  persist  in  this  reproach  against  our  coun- 
trymen.    Boswell. 


382  KING  HENRY  V.  ,jct  nr, 

0mI.  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  mastiffs,  in  robustious  and  rough  coming  on, 
leaving  their  wits  with  their  wives :  and  then  give 
them  great  meals  of  beef5,  and  iron  and  steel,  they 
will  eat  like  wolves,  and  fight  like  devils. 
...  Orl.  Ay,  but  these  English  are  shrewdly  out  of 
beef. 

Con.  Then  we  shall  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. 

5  —  giye  them  great  meals  of  beef,]     So,  in  King  Edward  III. 
1596: 

" but  scant  them  of  their  chines  of  beef, 

"  And  take  away  their  downy  featherbeds,"  &c. 

Steevens. 
Our  author  had  the  Chronicle  in  his  thoughts  :   "  —  keep  an 
English    man   one    month    from  his  warm   bed,  fat  beef,  stale 
drink,"  &c. 

So  also,  in  the  old  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Why,  take  an  Englishman  out  of  his  warm  bed, 
"  And  his  stale  drink,  but  one  moneth, 
"  And,  alas,  what  will  become  of  him  ?  "     Malone. 
Otway  has  the  same  thought  in  his  Venice  Preserved  : 
"  Give  but  an  Englishman,  &c. 
**  Beef,  and  a  sea-coal  fire,  he's  yours  for  ever." 

BoSWELL.      . 


act  iv,  KING  HENRY  V.  383 


ACT  IV. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Now  entertain  conjecture  of  a  time,    .  ., 
When  creeping  murmur,  and  the  poring  dark, 
Fills  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe 6. 
From  camp  to  camp,  through  the  foul  womb  of 

night, 
The  hum  of  either  army  stilly  sounds  7, 
That  the  fix'd  sentinels  almost  receive 
The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch 8 : 

6  Fills  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe.]    Universe,  for  horizon: 
for  we  are  not  to  think  Shakspeare  so  ignorant  as  to  imagine  it  was 
night  over  the  whole  globe  at  once.     He  intimates  he  knew  other- 
wise, by  that  fine  line  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream  : 
" following  darkness  like  a  dream." 

Besides,  the  image  he  employs  shows  he  meant  but  half  the 
globe  ;  the  horizon  round,  which  has  the  shape  of  a  vessel  or 
goblet.     Warburton. 

There  is  a  better  proof,  that  Shakspeare  knew  the  order  of 
night  and  day,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Now  o'er  the  one  half  world 
"  Nature  seems  dead." 

But  there  was  no  great  need  of  any  justification.  The  universe, 
in  its  original  sense,  no  more  means  this  globe  singly  than  the 
circuit  of  the  horizon  ;  but,  however  large  in  its  philosophical 
sense,  it  may  be  poetically  used  for  as  much  of  the  world  as  falls 
under  observation.  Let  me  remark  further,  that  ignorance  cannot 
be  certainly  inferred  from  inaccuracy.  Knowledge  is  not  always 
present,     Johnson*. 

7  — stilly  sounds,]  A  similar  idea  perhaps  was  meant  to 
be  given  by  Barnaby  Googe,  in  his  version  of  Palingenius,  1561 ; 

"  Which  with  a  pleasaunt  hushyng  sound, 

"  Provok'd  the  ioyes  of  bed." 
Saepe  levi  somnum  suadebit  inire  susurro. 

Virg.  Eel.  i.  56.     SteeVens. 
"  —  stilly   sounds."    i.  e.   gently,  lowly.     So,    in  the   sacred 
writings  :  "  a  still  small  voice."     Malone. 

8  The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch  :]  Holinshed 
says,  that  the  distance  between  the  two  armies  was  but  two 
hundred  and  fifty  paces.     Malone. 

5 


384  KING  HENRY  V.  act  if. 

Fire  answers  fire9;  and  through  their  paly  flames 
Each  battle  sees  the  other's  umber'd  face ' : 
Steed  threatens  steed,  in  high  and  boastful  neighs 
Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear  a ;  and  from  the  tents a, 


9  Fire  answers  fire ;]  This  circumstance  is  also  taken  from 
Holinshed  :  "  — but  at  their  coming  into  the  village,  fit es  were 
made  (by  the  English)  to  give  light  on  every  side,  as  there  like- 
wise were  in  the  French  hoste."     Malone. 

1  — the  other's  umber'd  face:]  Of  this  epithet,  used  by 
Shakspeare  in  his  description  of  fires  reflected  by  night,  Mr. 
Pope  knew  the  value,  and  has  transplanted  it  into  the  Iliad  on  a 
like  occasion  : 

"  Whose  umber'd  arms  by  turns  thick  flashes  send." 
Umber  is  a  brown  colour.     So,  in  As  You  Like  It  : 

"  And  with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face." 
The  distant  visages  of  the  soldiers  would  certainly  appear  of 
this  hue,  when  beheld  through  the  light  of  midnight  fires. 

Umber'd,  however,  may  signify  shaded.  Thus  Caxton  tells 
us  that  he — "  emprysed  tenprinte  [Tully  on  Old  Age]  under  the 
timbre  and  shadow  of  King  Edward  IV."  Again,  in  an  old  poem 
called  The  Castell  of  Labour,  falshood  is  said  to  act  "  under  the 
umbre  of  veryte."     Steevens. 

Umber'd  certainly  means  here  discoloured  by  the  gleam  of  the 
fires.  Umber  is  a  dark  yellow  earth,  brought  from  Umbria,  in 
Italy,  which,  being  mixed  with  water,  produces  such  a  dusky 
yellow  colour  as  the  gleam  of  fire  by  night  gives  to  the  counte- 
nance. Our  authors  profession  probably  furnished  him  with 
this  epithet ;  for  from  an  old  manuscript  play  in  my  possession, 
entitled  The  Telltale,  it  appears  that  umber  was  used  in  the 
stage-exhibitions  of  his  time.  In  that  piece  one  of  the  marginal 
directions  is,   "  He  umbers  her  face."     Malone. 

*  Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear  ;]  Hence  perhaps  the  fol- 
lowing idea  in  Milton's  L' Allegro  : 

"  And  singing  startle  the  dull  night."     Steevens. 
3  —and  from  the  tents,]     See  the  preparation  for  the  battle 
between  Palamon  and  Arcite,  in  Chaucer : 

"  And  on  the  morwe,  when  the  day  'gan  spring, 

"  Of  horse  and  harneis  noise  and  clattering, 

•'  There  was  in  the  hostelries  all  aboute  :— - 

"  The  fomy  stedes  on  the  golden  bridel 

"  Gnawing,  and  fast  the  armureres  also 

"  With Jile  and  hammer  prilcing  to  and  fro,"  &c. 

T.  Warton. 
Thus  also  Statius,  describing  the  preparations  for  the  Trojan 
war; 


act  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  385 

The  armourers,  accomplishing  the  knights, 
With  busy  hammers  closing  rivets  up 3, 
Give  dreadful  note  of  preparation. 
The  country  cocks  do  crow,  the  clocks  do  toll, 
And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  name  4. 
Proud  of  their  numbers,  and  secure  in  soul, 
The  confident  and  over-lusty5  French 
Do  the  low-rated  English  play  at  dice  6 ; 

— —  innumera  resonant  incude  Mycenae. 

Achill.  i.  414.     Steevens. 

3  The  armourers,  accomplishing  the  knights, 

With  busy  hammers  closing  rivets  up.]  This  does  not 
solely  refer  to  the  business  of  rivetting  the  plate  armour  before  it 
was  put  on,  but  as  to  part,  when  it  was  on.  Thus  the  top  of  the 
cuirass  had  a  little  projecting  bit  of  iron,  that  passed  through  a 
hole  pierced  through  the  bottom  of  the  casque.  When  both  were 
put  on,  the  smith  or  armourer  presented  himself,  with  his 
rivetting  hammer,  to  close  the  rivet  up  ;  so  that  the  party's  head 
should  remain  steady  notwithstanding  the  force  of  any  blow  that 
might  be  given  on  the  cuirass  or  helmet.  This  custom  more  par- 
ticularly prevailed  in  tournaments.  See  Varietes  Historiques, 
1752,  12mo.  torn.  ii.  p.  73.     Douce. 

4  And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  name.]  The  old  copy 
— nam'd.     Steevens. 

How  much  better  might  we  read  thus  ? 

"  The  countiy  cocks  do  crow,  the  clocks  do  toll, 
"  And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  name." 

Tyrwhitt. 
I  have  admitted  this  very  necessary  and  elegant  emendation. 

Steevens. 
Sir  T.  Hanmer,  with  almost  equal  probability,  reads  : 
"  And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning's  nam'd." 

Malone. 

5  —  over-LusTY  — ]  i.  e.  over-saucy.  So,  in  Sir  Thomas 
North's  translation  of  Plutarch :  "  Cassius's  soldiers  did  shewe 
themselves  verie  stubborne  and  lustie  in  the  campe,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

6  Do  the  low-rated  English  play  at  dice  ;]  i.  e.  do  play  them 
away  at  dice.     Warburton. 

From  Holinshed ;  "  The  Frenchmen  in  the  mean  while,  as 
though  they  had  been  sure  of  victory,  made  great  triumphe,  for 
the  captaines  had  determined  before  how  to  divide  the  spoil,  and 
the  souldiers  the  night  before  had  plaid  the  Englishmen  at  dice" 

Malone. 
VOL.  XVII.  2   C 


38(?  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

And  chide  the  cripple  tardy-gaited  night, 

Who,  like  a  foul  and  ugly  witch,  doth  limp 

So  tediously  away.    The  poor  condemned  English 7, 

Like  sacrifices,  by  their  watchful  fires 

Sit  patiently,  and  inly  ruminate 

The  morning's  danger ;  and  their  gesture  sad, 

Investing  lank-lean  cheeks  8,  and  war-worn  coats, 

Presenteth  them9  unto  the  gazing  moon 


7  The  confident  and  over-lusty  French,, 

The  poor  condemned  English,]     Our  classical  readers 

will  not  be  displeased  with  an  opportunity  of  comparing  Shak- 
speare's  picture  of  the  French  and  English  camps  with  that  of  the 
Barbarian  and  Roman  troops,  as  exhibited  in  a  night-scene  by 
the  masterly  pencil  of  Tacitus,  Annal.  I.  lxv. :  "  Nox  perdiversa 
inquies  :  cum  Barbari  festis  epulis,  lseto  cantu,  aut  truci  sonore 
subjecta  vallium  ac  resultantes  saltus  complerent ;  apud  Romanos 
invalidi  ignes,  interrupts  voces,  atque  ipsi  passim  adjacerent  vallo, 
oberrarent  tentoriis,  insomnes  magis  quam  pervigiles.  Ducemque 
terruit  dira  quies."     Steevens. 

8  Investing  lank-lean  cheeks,]  A  gesture  investing  ckeeks 
and  coats  is  nonsense.     We  should  read : 

"  Invest  in  lank-lean  cheeks " 

which  is  sense ;  i.  e.  their  sad  gesture  was  clothed,  or  set  off, 
in  lean  cheeks  and  worn  coats.  The  image  is  strong  and  pictu- 
resque.    Warburton. 

I  fancy  Shakspeare  might  have  written  : 

"  In  fasting  lank-lean  cheeks,'         "     Heath. 
Change  is  unnecessary.     The   harshness  of  the  metaphor  is 
what  offends,  which  means  only,  that  their  looks  are  invested  in 
mournful  gestures. 

Such  another  harsh  metaphor  occurs  in  Much  Ado  about 
Nothing : 

"  For  my  part,  I  am  so  attir'd  in  wonder, 
"  I  know  not  what  to  say."     Steevens. 
Gesture  only  relates  to  their  cheeks,  after  which  word  there 
should  be  a  comma,  as  in  the  first  folio.     In  the  second  Song  of 
Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  : 

"  Anger  invests  the  face  with  a  lovely  grace."     Tollet. 

9  Presenteth  them — ]  The  old  copy  reads — presented.  But 
the  present  time  runs  throughout  the  whole  of  the  description, 
except  in  this  instance,  where  the  change  seems  very  improper. 
I  believe  we  should  read,  with  Hanmer,  presenteth.     Steevens. 

The  emendation,  in  my  opinion,  needs  no  justification.     The 


act  ir.  KING  HENRY  V.  387 

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, 

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  countrymen. 

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 ; 

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.     Then,  mean 2  and  gentle  all, 

false  concord  is  found  in  every  page  of  the  old  editions.     Here  it 
cannot  be  corrected. 

A  passage  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  in  which  the  same 
false  concord  is  found,  may  serve  to  support  and  justify  the 
emendation  here  made : 

"  The  red  rose  and  the  white  are  in  his  face, 
"  The  fatal  colours  of  our  striving  houses  : 
"  The  one  his  purple  blood  right  well  resembleth  ; 
"  The  other  his  pale  cheeks,  methinks,  presenteth." 
Of  the  two  last  lines  there  is  no  trace  in  the  old  play  on  which 
The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  is  founded.     Malone. 
1  A  largess  universal,  like  the  sun, 
His  liberal  eye  doth  give  to  every  one,]     "  Non  enim  vox 
ilia  praeceptoris,  ut  ccena,   minus  pluribus   sufficit ;  sed  ut  sol, 
universis  idem  lucis  calorisque  largitur."     Quintil.  de  Instit.  Orat. 
lib.  i.  c.  ii.     And  Pope,  Rape  of  the  Lock,  cant.  ii.  v.  14- : 
"  Bright  as  the  sun,  her  eyes  the  gazers  strike, 
"  And,  like  the  sun,  they  shine  on  all  alike." 

Holt  White. 
1  i—  Then  mean,  See]     Old  copy — That  mean.    Malone. 
As  this  stood,  it  was  a  most  perplexed  and  nonsensical  passage, 
and  could  not  be  intelligible,  but  as  I  have  corrected  it.     The 
poet,   addressing  himself  to  every  degree  of  his  audience,  tells 

2  c  2 


388  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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  soils, 
Right  ill  dispos'd,  in  brawl  ridiculous, — 
The  name  of  Agincourt :  Yet,  sit  and  see ; 
Minding  true  things,3  by  what  their  mockeries  be. 

\EsiU 
■ 

SCENE    I. 


The  English  Camp  at  Agincourt. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Bedford,  and  Gloster. 

K.  Hen.  Gloster,  'tis  true,  that  we  are  in  great 
danger ; 
The  greater  therefore  should  our  courage  be. — 
Good  morrow,  brother  Bedford. — God  Almighty! 
There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil, 
Would  men  observingly  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  4. 

them  he'll  show  (as  well  as  his  unworthy  pen  and  powers  can 
describe  it)  a  little  touch  or  sketch  of  this  hero  in  the  night ;  a 
faint  resemblance  of  that  cheerfulness  and  resolution  which  this 
brave  prince  expressed  in  himself,  and  inspired  in  his  followers. 

Theobald. 

s  Minding  true  things,]  To  mind  is  the  same  as  to  call  to 
remembrance.     Johnson. 

*■  That  we  should  'dress  us  fairly  for  our  end.]  Dress  us,  I 
believe,  means  here,  address  us ;  i.  e.  prepare  ourselves.  So  be- 
fore, in  this  play : 

"  To-morrow  for  our  march  we  are  address'd." 

It  should  therefore  be  printed — 'dress  us.     Malone. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  389 

Thus  may  we  gather  honey  from  the  weed, 
And  make  a  moral  of  the  devil  himself. 

Enter  Erpingham. 

Good  morrow,  old  sir  Thomas  Erpingham 5 : 
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. 

K.  Hen.  Tis  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, 
The  organs,  though  defunct  and  dead  before, 
Break  up  their  drowsy  grave,  and  newly  move 
With  casted  slough  and  fresh  legerity6. 
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. 

I  do  not  recollect  that  any  of  our  author's  plays  affords  an  ex- 
ample of  the  word  address  thus  abbreviated. 

Dress,  in  its  common  acceptation,  may  be  the  true  reading. 
So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I. : 

M  They  come  like  sacrifices  in  their  trim."     Steevens. 

5  —  old  sir  Thomas  Erpingham  :]  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham 
came  over  with  Bolingbroke  from  Bretagne,  and  was  one  of  the 
commissioners  to  receive  King  Richard's  abdication, 

Edwards's  MS. 
Sir  Thomas   Erpingham  was  in  Henry   V.'s  time  warden  of 
Dover  castle.     His  arms  are  still  visible  on  one  side  of  the  Ro- 
man pharos.     Steevens. 

6  With  casted  slough,  &c]  Slough  is  the  skin  which  the 
serpent  annually  throws  off,  and  by  the  change  of  which  he  is 
supposed  to  regain  new  vigour  and  fresh  youth.  Legerity  is 
lightness,  nimbleness,     Johnson. 

So,  in  Stanyhurst's  translation  of  Virgil,  book  iv.  1582: 

"  His  slough  uncasing,  himself  now  youthfully  bleacheth." 
Legerity  is  a  word  used  by  Ben  Jonson,  in  Every  Man  out  of 
his  Humour.     Steevens. 


390  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Glo.  We  shall,  my  liege. 

[Exeunt  Gloster  and  Bedford. 
Erp.  Shall  I  attend  your  grace  ? 
K.  Hen.  No,  my  good  knight ; 

Go  with  my  brothers  to  my  lords  of  England : 
I  and  my  bosom  must  debate  a  while, 
And  then  I  would  no  other  company. 

Erp.    The  Lord   in   heaven   bless   thee,  noble 
Harry !  [Exit  Erpingham. 

K.  Hen.  God-a-mercy,  old  heart !  thou  speakest 
cheerfully. 

Enter  Pistol. 

Ptst.  Qui  va  la  ? 

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.  Trailest  thou  the  puissant  pike  7  ? 

K.  Hen.  Even  so :  What  are  you  ? 

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  8 ; 
Of  parents  good,  of  fist  most  valiant : 
I  kiss  his  dirty  shoe,  and  from  my  heart-strings 
I  love  the  lovely  bully.     What's  thy  name  ? 

K.  Hen.  Harry  le  Roy. 

Pist.  Le   Roy !    a  Cornish  name  :    art  thou  of 
Cornish  crew  ? 

1  Trailest  thou  the  puissant  pike  ?]     So,  at  the  beginning  of 
Chapman's  Revenge  for  Honour : 
"  — —  a  wife 

"  Fit  for  the  trayler  of  the  puissant  pike."  Farmer. 
8  —  an  imp  of  fame  ;]  An  imp  is  a  shoot  in  its  primitive  sense, 
but  means  a  son  in  Shakspeare.  In  Holinshed,  p.  951,  the  last 
words  of  Lord  Cromwell  are  preserved,  who  says  :  "  —  and  after 
him  that  his  sonne  prince  Edward,  that  goodlie  impe,  may  long 
reigne  over  you."     Steevens. 


sc.i.  KING  HENRY  V.  391 

K.  Hen.  No,  I  am  a  Welshman. 

Pist.  Knowest  thou  Fluellen  ? 

K.  Hen.  Yes. 

Pist.  Tell  him,  I'll  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  yours. 

Pist.  Art  thou  his  friend  ? 

K.  Hen.  And  his  kinsman  too. 

Pist.  The  Jigo  for  thee  then ! 

K.  Hen.  I  thank  you :  God  be  with  you  ! 

Pist.  My  name  is  Pistol  called.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  It  sorts9  well  with  your  fierceness. 

Enter  Fluellen  and  Gower,  severally. 

Goir.  Captain  Fluellen ! 

Flu.  So  !  in  the  name  of  Cheshu  Christ,  speak 
lower ' .     It  is  the  greatest  admiration  in  the  uni- 

9  It  sorts  — ]  i.  e.  it  agrees.  So,  in  Chapman's  version  of 
the  17th  book  of  the  Odyssey  : 

"  His  faire  long  lance  well  sorting  with  his  hand." 

Steevens. 

1  —  speak  lower.]  The  earliest  of  the  quartos  reads — 
"  speak  lewer,""  which  in  that  of  1608  is  made  lower.  The  altera- 
tions made  in  the  several  quartos,  and  in  all  the  folios  that  suc- 
ceeded the  first,  by  the  various  printers  or  correctors  through 
whose  hands  they  passed,  carry  with  them  no  authority  what- 
soever ;  yet  here  the  correction  happens,  I  think,  to  be  right. 
The  editors  of  the  folio  read — "  speak  fewer"  I  have  no  doubt 
that  in  their  MS.  (for  this  play  they  evidently  printed  from  a 
MS.  which  was  not  the  case  in  some  others,)  the  word  by  the 
carelessness  of  the  transcriber  was  fewer,  (as  in  that  copy  from 
which  the  quarto  was  printed,)  and  that,  in  order  to  obtain  some 
sense,  they  changed  this  tojetver.  Fluellen  could  not,  with  any 
propriety,  call  on  Gowerto  speak  fewer,  he  not  having  uttered  a 
word  except  "  Captain  Fluellen !  "  Meeting  Fluellen  late  at 
night,  and  not  being  certain  who  he  was,  he  merely  pronounced 
his  name.  Having  addressed  him  in  too  high  a  key,  the  Welsh- 
man reprimands  him  ;  and  Gower  justifies  himself  by  saving  that 
the  enemy  spoke  so  loud,  that  the  English  could  hear  them  all 


392  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

versal  'orld,  when  the  true  and  auncient  preroga- 
tifes  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,  or  pibble  pabble,  in  Pompey's 
camp ;  I  warrant  you,  you  shall  find  the  ceremo- 
nies of  the  wars 2,  and  the  cares  of  it,  and  the  forms 
of  it,  and  the  sobriety  of  it,  and  the  modesty  of  it, 
to  be  otherwise. 

Gorr.  Why,  the  enemy  is  loud ;  you  heard  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  ? 

Gorr.  I  will  speak  lower. 

Flu.  I  pray  you,  and  beseech  you,  that  you  will. 
[Exeunt  Gower  and  Fluellen. 

K.  Hen.  Though  it  appear  a  little  out  of  fashion, 
There  is  much  care  and  valour  in  this  Welshman. 


night.  But  what  he  says  as  he  is  going  out,  puts,  I  think,  the 
emendation  that  I  have  adopted  beyond  a  doubt,  I  will  do  as  you 
desire  ;  "  I  will  speak  lower." 

Shakspearehas  here  as  usual  followed  Holinshed  :  "  Order  was 
taken  by  commandement  from  the  king,  after  the  army  was  first 
set  in  battayle  array,  that  no  noise  or  clamour  should  be  made  in 
the  hoste."     Malone. 

To  "  speak  lower"  is  the  more  familiar  reading;  but  to  "speak 
Jew,"  is  a  provincial  phrase  still  in  use  among  the  vulgar  in  some 
counties;  signifying,  to  speak  in  a  calm,  small  voice;  and  con- 
sequently has  the  same  meaning  as  low.  In  Sussex  I  heard  one 
female  servant  say  to  another — "  Speak  fewer,  or  my  mistress 
will  hear  you."     Steevens. 

2  —  I  warrant  you,  &c]  Amongst  the  laws  and  ordinances 
militarie  set  down  by  Robert  Earl  of  Leicester  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, printed  at  Leyden,  1586,  one  is,  that  "  No  man  shall  make 
anie  outcrie  or  noise  in  any  watch,  ward,  ambush,  or  anie  other 
place  where  silence  is  requisite,  and  necessarie,  upon  paine  of  losse 
of  life  or  limb  at  the  general's  discretion."     Reed. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  393 

Enter  Bates,  Court,  and  Williams, 

Court.  Brother  John  Bates,  is  not  that  the  morn- 
ing 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  ? 

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  I  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  conditions 3 :  his  ce- 
remonies 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  wing4 ;  therefore  when  he  sees  reason  of  fears, 


3  —  conditions :]  Are  qualities.  The  meaning  is,  that  ob- 
jects are  represented  by  his  senses  to  him,  as  to  other  men  by 
theirs.  What  is  danger  to  another  is  danger  likewise  to  him ; 
and,  when  he  feels  fear,  it  is  like  the  fear  of  meaner  mortals. 

Johnson. 

4  —  though  his  affections  are  higher  mounted  than  ours,  yet, 
when  they  stoop,  they  stoop  with  the  like  wing  ;]  This  passage 
alludes  to  the  ancient  sport  of  falconry.  When  the  hawk,  after 
soaring  aloft,  or  mounting  high,  descended  in  its  flight,  it  was  said 
to  stoop.  So,  in  an  old  song  on  falconry  in  my  MS.  of  old  songs, 
p.  480 : 


394  KING  HENRY  V.  act  m 

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  appearance  of  fear,  lest  he,  by 
showing  it,  should  dishearten  his  army. 

Bates.  He  may  show  what  outward  courage  he 
will :  but,  I  believe,  as  cold  a  night  as  'tis,  he  could 
wish  himself  in  the  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  'would  he  were  here  alone ;  so 
should  he  be  sure  to  be  ransomed,  and  a  many  poor 
men's  lives  saved. 

K.  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  honourable5. 

Will.  That's  more  than  we  know. 

Bates.  Ay,  or  more  than  we  should  seek  after6; 
for  we  know  enough,  if  we  know  we  are  the  king's 


"  She  flieth  at  one 

"  Her  marke  jumpeupon, 

"  And  mounteth  the  welkin  cleare  ; 
"  Then  right  she  stoopes, 
"  When  the  falkner  he  whoopes, 

"  Triumphing  in  her  chaunticleare."     Percy. 

5  — his  cause  being  just,  and  his  quarrel  honourable.]  So, 
Holinshed  :  "  —  calling  his  capitaines  and  his  souldiers  aboute 
him,  he  [Henry  V.]  made  to  them  a  right  harty  oration,  requir- 
ing them  to  play  the  men,  that  they  might  obtaine  a  glorious 
victorie,  as  there  was  good  hope  they  should,  if  they  would  re- 
member the  just  cause  and  quarrel  for  the  whiche  they  fought." 

Malone. 

6  Bates.  Ay,  or  more,  &c]  This  sentiment  does  not  corres- 
pond with  what  Bates  has  just  before  said.  The  speech,  I  believe, 
should  be  given  to  Court.     See  p.  397,  n.  4*.     Malone. 


sc.  j.  KING  HENRY  V.  395 

subjects;  if  his  cause  be  wrong,  our  obedience  to 
the  king  wipes  the  crime  of  it  out  of  us. 

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 7,  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 8.  I  am 
afeard  there  are  few  die  well,  that  die  in  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 
proportion  of  subjection. 

K.  Ben,  So,  if  a  son,  that  is  by  his  father  sent 
about  merchandise,  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  command,  trans- 
porting 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  ser- 
vant's damnation  : — But  this  is  not  so :  the  king  is 
not  bound  to  answer  the  particular  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 

7  ■—  the  latter  day,]  i.  e.  the  last  day,  the  day  of  judgment. 
Our  author  has,  in  other  instances,  used  the  comparative  for  the 
superlative.     Steevens. 

8  —  their  children  rawly  left.]  That  is,  "without preparation, 
hastily,  suddenly.    What  is  not  matured  is  raiv.  So,  in  Macbeth  ; 

"  Why  in  this  rawness  left  he  wife  and  children  ?  " 

Johnson, 
Ratvly  left,  is  left  young  and  helpless.     Ritson. 


396  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ir. 

the  arbitrament  of  swords,  can  try  it  out  with  all 
unspotted  soldiers.  Some,  peradventure,  have  on 
them  the  guilt  of  premeditated  and  contrived  mur- 
der; some,  of  beguiling  virgins  with  the  broken 
seals  of  perjury  9;  some,  making  the  wars  their  bul- 
wark, that  have  before  gored  the  gentle  bosom  of 
peace  with  pillage  and  robbery.  Now,  if  these 
men  have  defeated  the  law,  and  outrun  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  duty2  is  the 
king's ;  but  every  subject's  soul  is  his  own.  There- 
fore should  every  soldier  in  the  wars  do  as  every 
sick  man  in  his  bed,  wash  every  mote a  out  of  his 
conscience  :  and  dying  so,  death  is  to  him  ad van - 

9  —  the  broken  seals  of  perjury  ;]     So,  in  the  song  at  the 
beginning  of  the  fourth  Act  of  Measure  for  Measure : 

**  That  so  sweetly  were /brsu>or«' 

"  Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain."     Steevens. 

1  —  native  punishment,]  That  is,  punishment  in  their  native 
country.     Heath. 

So,  in  a  subsequent  scene : 

'*  A  many  of  our  bodies  shall,  no  doubt, 

"  Find  native  graves."     Malone. 
Native  punishment  is  such  as  they  are  born  to,  if  they  offend. 

Steevens. 

2  Every  subject's  duty — ]      This  is  a  very  just  distinction, 
and  the  whole  argument  is  well  followed,  and  properly  concluded. 

Johnson. 
'  —  every  mote  — ]     Old  copy — moth,  which  was  only  the 
ancient  spelling  of  mote.     I  have  shewn  this  to  be  the  case,  where 
I  have  proposed  the  true  reading  of  a  passage  in  King  John. 
See  vol.  xv.  p.  312,  n.  1.     Malone. 


sc.  J.  KING  HENRY  V.  397 

tage;  or  not  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. 

Will.  Tis  certain 4,  every  man  that  dies  ill,  the 
ill  is  upon  his  own  head,  the  king  is  not  to  answer 
for  it. 

Bates.  I  do  not  desire  he  should  answer  for  me ; 
and  yet  I  determine  to  fight  lustily  for  him. 

K.  Hen.  I  myself  heard  the  king  say,  he  would 
not  be  ransomed. 

Will.  Ay,  he  said  so,  to  make  us  fight  cheer- 
fully :  but,  when  our  throats  are  cut,  he  may  be 
ransomed,  and  we  ne'er  the  wiser. 

K.  Hen.  If  I  live  to  see  it,  I  will  never  trust  his 
word  after. 

Will.  'Mass,  you'll  pay  him  then 5 !     That's  a 

*  Will.  'Tis  certain,  &c]  In  the  quarto  this  little  speech  is 
not  given  to  the  same  soldier  who  endeavours  to  prove  that  the 
King  was  answerable  for  the  mischiefs  of  war ;  and  who  after- 
wards gives  his  glove  to  Henry.  The  persons  are  indeed  there 
only  distinguished  by  figures,  1,  2,  3.  But  this  circumstance,  as 
well  as  the  tenour  of  the  present  speech,  shows,  that  it  does  not 
belong  to  Williams,  who  has  just  been  maintaining  the  contrary 
doctrine.  It  might  with  propriety  be  transferred  to  Court,  who 
is  on  the  scene,  and  says  scarcely  a  word.     Malone. 

s  'Mass,  you'll  pay  him  then  !]  To  pay,  in  old  language,  meant 
to  thrash  or  beat;  and  here  signifies  to  bring  to  account,  to  punish. 
See  vol.  xvi.  p.  276,  n.  2.  The  text  is  here  made  out  from  the 
folio  and  quarto.     Malone. 

It  is  from  the  folio,  except  that  it  reads  merely — You  pay  him 
then.     The  quarto  gives  the  speech  thus  : 

"  Mas  youle  pay  him  then,  'tis  a  great  displeasure 
"  That  an  elder  gun  can  do  against  a  cannon, 
"  Or  a  subject  against  a  monarke, 
"  Youle  nere  take  his  word  again,  youre  an  asse  goe." 

Boswell. 
"  —  pay  him — "     In  addition  to  my  note,  vol.  xvi.  p.  276,  it 
may  be  observed,  that  Falstaff  says,  in  the  same  vol.  p.  396  :  "  I 
have  paid  Percy.     I  have  made  him  sure."     Here  he  certainly 
means  more  than  thrashed  or  beaten.     Reed. 


39S  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ir. 

perilous  shot  out  of  an  elder  gun 6,  that  a  poor  and 
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,  'tis  a  foolish  saying. 

K.  Hen.  Your  reproof  is  something  too  round  *  7 ; 
I  should  be  angry  with  you,  if  the  time  were  con- 
venient. 

Will.  Let  it  be  a  quarrel  between  us,  if  you  live. 

K.  Hen.  I  embrace  it. 

Will.  How  shall  I  know  thee  again  ? 

K.  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.  ' 

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,  1  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  enough,  if  you  could  tell 
how  to  reckon. 

K.  Hen.  Indeed,  the  French  may  lay  twenty 
French  crowns  8  to  one,  they  will  beat  us  ;  for  they 

*  Quarto,  somewhat  better, 

6  —  That's  a  perilous  shot  out  of  an  elder  gun,]  In  the  old 
play  [the  quarto  1600,]  the  thought  is  more  opened.  It  is  a 
great  displeasure  that  an  elder  gun  can  do  against  a  cannon,  or  a 
subject  against  a  monarch.     Johnson. 

7  —  too  round  ;]  i.  e.  too  rough,  too  unceremonious.  So, 
in  Hamlet : 

"  'Pray  you,  be  round  with  him."     Steevens. 

8  —  twenty  French  crowns  — ]  This  conceit,  rather  too  low 
for  a  king,  has  been  already  explained,  as  alluding  to  the  venereal 
disease.     Johnson. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V,,  399 

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. 
Upon  the  king 9 !  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, 
Subjected  to  the  breath 1  of  every  fool, 
Whose  sense  no  more  can  feel  but  his  own  wring- 
ing! 
What  infinite  heart's  ease  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  ? 
O  ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth  ! 
What  is  the  soul  of  adoration  2  ? 

There  is  surely  no  necessity  for  supposing  any  allusion  in  this 
passage  to  the  venereal  disease.  The  conceit  here  seems  to  turn 
merely  upon  the  equivocal  sense  of  crown,  which  signifies  either  a 
coin,  or  a  head.     Tyrwhitt. 

9  Upon  the  king  !  &c]  This  beautiful  speech  was  added  after 
the  first  edition.     Pope. 

There  is  something  very  striking  and  solemn  in  this  soliloquy, 
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  un- 
willing merriment.     Johnson. 

1  Subjected  to  the  breath  — ]  The  old  copies  have  only — 
subject;  but  (for  the  sake  of  metre)  I  have  not  scrupled  to  read — 
subjected,  on  the  authority  of  the  following  passage  m  King  John  : 

"  Subjected  tribute  to  commanding  love — ,"     Steevens. 

2  What  are  thy  rents  ?  what  are  thy  comings-in  ? 
O  ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth  ! 

What  is  the  soul  of  adoration  ?]     The  first  copy  reads, 
*'  What?  is  thy  soul  of  adoration  ?  " 


400  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Art  thou  aught  else  but  place,   degree,  and  form, 

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  firy  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, 
Command  the  health  of  it  ?  No,  thou  proud  dream, 
That  play'st  so  subtly  with  a  king's  repose  ; 
I  am  a  king,  that  find  thee  ;  and  I  know, 
'Tis  not  the  balm,  the  sceptre,  and  the  ball, 
The  sword,  the  mace,  the  crown  imperial, 
The  inter-tissued  robe  of  gold  and  pearl, 

This  is  incorrect,  but  I  think  we  may  discover  the  true  reading 
easily  enough  to  be, 

"  What  is  thy  soul,  O  adoration?  " 
That  is,    "  O  reverence  paid  to  kings,  what  art   thou  within  ? 
What  are  thy  real  qualities  ?  What  is  thy  intrinsick  value  ?  " 

Johnson. 
I  have  received  Mr.  Malone's  amendment,  which  he  thus  ex- 
plains : — "  What  is  the  real  worth  and  intrinsick  value  of  adora- 
tion ?  " 

The  quarto  has  not  this  speech.     The  folio  reads : 

"  What  ?  is  thy  soul  of  odoration  ?  "  Steevens. 
Thelatter  word  was  corrected  in  the  second  folio.  For  the  other 
emendation  now  made  I  am  answerable.  Thy,  thee,  and  they,  are 
frequently  confounded  in  the  old  copies.  In  many  of  our  author's 
plays  we  find  similar  expressions.  In  Troilus  and  Cressida,  ' '  my 
very  soul  of  counsel ;  "  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  "  the  soul  of 
hope  ;  "  and  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  "  the  soul  of  'love." 
Again,  in  the  play  before  us  : 

"  There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil." 
Dr.  Johnson  reads  : 

"  What  is  thy  soul,  O  adoration  ?  " 
But  the  mistake  appears  to  me  more  likely  to  have  happened  in 
the  word  thy  than  in  of;   and  the  examples  that  I  have  produced 
support  that  opinion.     Malone. 


sc.  j.  KING  HENRY  V.  401 

The  farced  title  running  'fore  the  king 3, 

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, 

Not  all  these,  laid  in  bed  majestical, 

Can  sleep  so  soundly  as  the  wretched  slave  4 ; 

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, 

Doth  rise  and  help  Hyperion  to  his  horse ; 

And  follows  so  the  ever  running  year 

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 5. 

3  —  farced  title  running,  &c]    Farced  is  shtffed.     The  tumid 
puffy  titles  with  which  a  king's  name  is  always  introduced.    This, 
I  think,  is  the  sense.     Johnson. 
So,  in  All  for  Money,  by  T.  Lupton,  1578  : 

" belly-gods  so  swarm, 

"  Farced,  and  flowing  with  all  kind  gall." 
Again  : 

"  And  like  a  greedy  cormorant  with  belly  iuWfarced." 
Again,  in  Jacob  and  Esau,  1568  : 

"  To  make  both  broth  andfarcing,  and  that  full  deinty." 
Again,  in  Stanyhurst's  version  of  the  first  book  of  Virgil : 

"  Or  eels  are  farcing  with  dulce  and  delicat  hoonny." 
Again,  in  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour : 

" farce  thy  lean  ribs  with  it  too."     Steevens. 

*  Can  sleep  so  soundly,  &c]  These  lines  are  exquisitely  pleas- 
ing. "To  sweat  in  the  eye  of  Phoebus,"  and  "to  sleep  in  Ely- 
sium," are  expressions  very  poetical.     Johnson. 

I  but little  wots, 

What  watch  the  king  keeps  to  maintain  the  peace, 
Whose  hours  the  peasant  best  advantages.]     The  sense  of 
VOL.  XVII.  2    D 


402  KING  HENRY  V.  act  if. 


. 


Enter  Rrpingham. 


Erp.  My  lord,  your  nobles,  jealous  of  your  ab- 
sence, 
Seek  through  your  camp  to  find  you. 

K.  Hen.  Good  old  knight, 

Collect  them  all  together  at  my  tent : 
I'll  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,  if  the  opposed  numbers 
Pluck  their  hearts  from   them6! — Not  to-day,  O 
Lord, 

this  passage,  which  is  expressed  with  some  slight  obscurity,  seems 
to  be — "  He  little  knows  at  the  expence  of  how  much  royal  vigi- 
lance, that  peace,  which  brings  most  advantage  to  the  peasant,  is 
maintained."  To  advantage  is  a  verb  elsewhere  used  by  Shak- 
speare.     Steevens. 

I  find,  from  Mr.  Twiss's  valuable  index,  that  it  occurs  in  six 
other  instances.     Boswell. 

6 take  from  them  now 

The  sense  of  reckoning,  if  the  opposed  numbers 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them  !]     The  first  folio  reads — gf  the 
opposed  numbers.     Steevens. 

The  poet  might  intend,  "  Take  from  them  the  sense  of  reckon- 
ing those  opposed  numbers ;  which  might  pluck  their  courage  from 
them."  But  the  relative  not  being  expressed,  the  sense  is  very 
obscure.  The  slight  correction  I  have  given  [lest  the  opposed 
numbers  — ]  makes  it  clear  and  easy.     Theobald. 

The  change  is  admitted  by  Dr.  Warburton,  and  rightly.  Sir  T. 
Hanmer  reads : 

" the  opposed  numbers 

"  Which  stand  before  them." 
This  reading  he  borrowed  from  the  old  quarto,  which  gives  the 
passage  thus  : 

"  Take  from  them  now  the  sense  of  reckoning, 
"  That  the  opposed  multitudes  which  stand  before  them 
"  May  not  appal  their  courage."     Johnson. 
Theobald's  alteration  certainly  makes  a  very  good  sense  ;  but, 
I  think,  we  might  read,  with  less  deviation  from  the  present  text  : 
*■*  — — —  j/"th'  opposed  numbers 
**  Pluck  their  hearts  from  them." 


sc.  /.  KING  HEN11Y  V.  403 

O  not  to-day,  think  not  upon  the  fault 
My  father  made  in  compassing  the  crown ! 

In  conjectural  criticism,  as  in  mechanicks,  the  perfection  of  the 
art,  I  apprehend,  consists  in  producing  a  given  effect  with  the  least 
possible  force.     Tyrwhitt. 

I  think  Theobald's  reading  preferable  to  that  of  Tyrwhitt, 
which  the  editor  has  adopted ;  for  if  the  opposed  numbers  did 
actually  pluck  their  hearts  from  them,  it  was  of  no  consequence 
whether  they  had  or  had  not  the  sense  of  reckoning.  M.  Mason. 
The  ingenious  commentator  seems  to  forget  that,  if  the  sense  of 
reckoning,  in  consequence  of  the  King's  petition,  was  taken  from 
them,  the  numbers  opposed  to  them  would  be  no  longer  formi- 
dable. When  they  could  no  more  count  their  enemies,  they 
could  no  longer  fear  them.  It  will  be  the  lot  of  few  criticks  to 
retire  with  advantage  gained  over  the  remarks  of  my  lamented 
friend,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt.     Steevens. 

The  old  reading  appears  to  be  right.  The  King  prays  that  his 
men  may  be  unable  to  reckon  the  enemy's  force,  that  their  hearts 
(i.  e.  their  sense  and  passions)  may  be  taken  from  them  :  that 
they  may  be  as  brave  as  a  total  absence  of  all  feeling  and  reflec- 
tion can  make  them.  An  explanation  which  seems  to  be  counte- 
nanced by  the  old  quarto.     Ritson. 

In  King  John,  edit.  1632,  these  words  [if and  of:  See  the  pre- 
ceding note  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt :]  have  again  been  confounded  : 

"  Lord  of  our  presence,  Angiers,  and  if  you," 
instead  of — of  vou.     The  same  mistake  has,  I  think,  happened 
also  in  Twelfth -Night,  folio,  1623  : 

"  For,  such  as  we  are  made  if  such  we  be." 
Where  we  should  certainly  read — 

"  For,  such  as  we  are  made  of  such  we  be." 
In  the  subsequent  scene  we  have  again  the  same  thought.    The 
Constable  of  France,   after  exhorting  his  countrymen  to  take 
horse,  adds — 

"  Do  but  behold  yon  poor  and  starved  band, 
"  And  your  fair  show  shall  suck  aivay  their  souls, 
"  Leaving  them  but  the  shales  and  husks  of  men." 
In  Hall's  Chronicle,  Henry  IV.  fol.  23,  we  find  a  kindred  ex- 
pression to  that  in   the  text :   "  Henry  encouraged  his  part  so, 
that  they  took  their  hearts  to  them,  and  manly  fought  with  their 
enemies." 

A  passage  in  the  speech  which  the  same  chronicler  has  put  into 
Henry's  mouth,  before  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  may  also  throw 
some  light  on  that  before  us,  and  serve  to  support  the  emendation 
that  has  been  made  :  "  Therefore,  putting  your  only  trust  in  him, 
let  not  their  multitude  fear  e  your  heartes,  nor  their  great  number 
abate  your  courage." 

2  D  2 


404  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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  ;  and  I  have  built 
Two  chantries 7,  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 8. 


The  passage  stands  thus  in  the  quarto,  1600 : 

"  Take  from  them  now  the  sense  of  reckoning1, 

"  That  the  opposed  numbers  which  stand  before  them, 

"  May  not  appal  their  courage." 

This  fully  refutes  the  notion  of  an  anonymous  Remarker,  [Mr. 
Ritson,]  who  understands  the  word  pluck  as  optative,  and  supposes 
that  Henry  calls  on  the  God  of  battles  to  deprive  his  soldiers  of 
their  hearts  ;  that  is,  of  their  courage,  for  such  is  evidently  the 
meaning  of  the  expression  ; — (so  in  the  common  phrase,  **  have  a 
good  heart," — and  in  the  passage  just  quoted  from  Hall;)  though 
this  commentator  chooses  to  understand  by  the  word — sense  and 
passions. 

Mr.  Theobald,  and  some  other  commentators,  seem,  indeed, 
to  think  that  any  word  may  be  substituted  for  another,  if  thereby 
sense  may  be  obtained  ;  but  a  word  ought  rarely  to  be  substituted 
in  the  room  of  another,  unless  either  the  emendation  bears  such  an 
affinity  to  the  corrupted  reading,  as  that  the  error  might  have 
arisen  from  the  mistake  of  the  eye  or  ear  of  the  compositor  or 
transcriber ;  or  a  word  has  been  caught  inadvertently  by  the  com- 
positor from  a  preceding  or  a  subsequent  line.     Malone. 

7  Two  chantries,]  One  of  these  monasteries  was  for  Carthusian 
monks,  and  was  called  Bethlehem  ;  the  other  was  for  religious  men 
and  women  of  the  order  of  Saint  Bridget,  and  was  named  Sion. 
They  were  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Thames,  and  adjoined  the 
royal  manor  of  Sheen,  now  called  Richmond.     Malone. 

8  Since  that  my  penitence  comes  after  all, 

Imploring  pardon.]  We  must  observe,  that  Henry  IV.  had 
committed  an  injustice,  of  which  he  and  his  son  reaped  the  fruits. 
But  reason  tells  us,  justice  demands  that  they  who  share  the  pro- 
fits of  iniquity,  shall  share  also  in  the  punishment.  Scripture 
again  tells  us,  that  when  men  have  sinned,  the  grace  of  God  gives 
frequent  invitations  to  repentance  :   which,  in  the  language  of 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  V.  405 

Enter  Gloster. 

Glo.  My  liege ! 

K.  Hen.  My  brother  Gloster's  voice  ? — Ay ; 

I  know  thy  errand,  I  will  go  with  thee : — 
The  day,  my  friends,  and  all  things  stay  for  me. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

The  French  Camp. 

Enter  Dauphin,  Orleans,  Rambvres,  and  Others. 

Orl.  The  sun  doth  gild  our  armour ;  up,  my 
lords. 

divines,  are  styled  calls.  These,  if  neglected,  or  carelessly  dallied 
with,  are,  at  length,  irrecoverably  withdrawn,  and  then  repentance 
comes  too  late.  All  this  shows  that  the  unintelligible  reading  of 
the  text  should  be  corrected  thus  : 

" comes  after  call."     Warburton. 

I  wish  the  commentator  had  explained  his  meaning  a  little 
better ;  for  his  comment  is  to  me  less  intelligible  than  the  text.  I 
know  not  what  he  thinks  of  the  King's  penitence,  whether  coming 
in  consequence  of  call,  it  is  sufficient ;  or  whether  coming  when 
calls  have  ceased,  it  is  ineffectual.  The  first  sense  will  suit  but  ill 
with  the  position,  that  all  which  he  can  do  is  nothing  worth;  and 
the  latter  as  ill  with  the  intention  of  Shakspeare,  who  certainly 
does  not  mean  to  represent  the  King  as  abandoned  and  reprobate. 

The  old  reading  is,  in  my  opinion,  easy  and  right.  /  do  all 
this,  says  the  King,  though  all  that  I  can  do  is  nothing  vcorth,  is 
so  far  from  an  adequate  expiation  of  the  crime,  that  penitence 
comes  after  all,  imploring  pardon  both  for  the  crime  and  the  ex- 
piation.    Johnson. 

I  am  sensible  that  every  thing  of  this  kind,  (works  of  piety  and 
charity,)  which  I  have  done  or  can  do,  will  avail  nothing  towards 
the  remission  of  this  sin  ;  since  I  well  know  that,  after  all  this  is 
done,  true  repentance,  and  imploring  pardon,  are  previously  and 
indispensably  necessary  towards  my  obtaining  it.     Heath. 

I  should  not  have  reprinted  Dr.  Warburton's  note  but  for  the 
sake  of  Dr.  Johnson's  reply.  Mr.  Malone,  however,  thinks  Mr. 
Heath's  explication  more  correct.     Steevens. 


406  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Dav.  Montez  a  cheval : — My  horse !  valet !  lac- 
quay  !  ha ! 
Orl.  O  brave  spirit ! 

Dav.  Via  I — les  eaux  et  la  terre 9 

Orl.  Rien  puis  ?  I' air  et  lefeu 

Dau.  del!  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 : 

9  Via! — les  eaux  et  la  terre — ]  Via  is  an  old  hortatory  ex- 
clamation, as  allons  !     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  is  right.     So,  in  King  Edward  III.  1596  : 
"  Then  Via  !  for  the  spacious  bounds  of  France  !  " 

Again,  in  Parasitaster,  or  The  Fawne,  by  John  Marston,  1606 : 
"  Come  Via  !  to  this  feastful  entertainment !  " 

Again,  in  Marston's  What  You  Will,  1607  : 

"  Tut,  Via!  let  all  run  glib  and  square  !  "     Steevens. 

This  dialogue  will  be  best  explained  by  referring  to  the  seventh 
scene  of  the  preceding  Act,  in  which  the  Dauphin,  speaking  in 
admiration  of  his  horse,  says  :  "When  I  bestride  him,  1  soar,  I 
am  a  hawk  :  he  trots  the  air : — It  is  a  beast  for  Perseus ;  he  is 
pure  air  andjire,  and  the  dull  elements  of  earth  and  water  never 
appear  in  him."  He  now,  seeing  his  horse  at  a  distance,  attempts 
to  say  the  same  thing  in  French  :  "Les  eaux  et  la  terre,"  the 
waters  and  the  earth — have  no  share  in  my  horse's  composition,  he 
was  going  to  have  said ;  but  is  prevented  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
who  replies — Can  you  add  nothing  more?  Is  he  not  air  and 
fire  ?  Yes,  says  the  Dauphin,  and  even  heaven  itself.  He  had, 
in  the  former  scene,  called  his  horse  Wonder  of  Nature.  The 
words,  however,  may  admit  of  a  different  interpretation.  He  may 
mean  to  boast  that,  when  on  horseback,  he  can  bound  over  all  the 
elements,  and  even  soar  to  heaven  itself.     Malone. 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine  the  import  of  the  Dauphin's  words. 
I  do  not,  however,  think  the  foregoing  explanation  right,  because 
it  excludes  variety,  by  presuming  that  what  has  been  already  said 
in  one  language,  is  repeated  in  another.  Perhaps  this  insignifi- 
cant sprig  of  royalty  is  only  capering  about,  and  uttering  a  "  rhap- 
sody of  words  "  indicative  of  levity  and  high  spirits,  but  guiltless 
of  any  precise  meaning.     Steevens. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  407 

r 

That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes, 
And  dout  them 1  with  superfluous  courage :  Ha ! 
Ram.  What,  will  you  have  them  weep  our  horses' 
blood  ? 
How  shall  we  then  behold  their  natural  tears  ? 

Enter  a  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  souls2, 

1  And  dout  them — ]  The  first  folio  reads — doubt,  which, 
perhaps,  may  have  been  used  for  to  make  to  doubt,  to  terrify. 

Tyrwhitt. 

To  doubt,  or  (as  it  ought  to  have  been  spelled)  dout,  is  a  word 
still  used  in  Warwickshire,  and  signifies  to  do  out,  or  extinguish. 
See  a  note  on  Hamlet,  vol.  vii.  p.  229,  n.  4.  For  this  information  I 
was  indebted  to  my  late  friend,  the  Reverend  H.  Homer.  Steevens. 

In  the  folio,  where  alone  this  passage  is  found,  the  word  is  writ- 
ten doubt.  To  dout,  for  to  do  out,  is  a  common  phrase  at  this  day 
in  Devonshire  and  the  other  western  counties ;  where  they  often 
oay,  dout  the  fire,  that  is,  put  out  the  fire.  Many  other  words 
of  the  same  structure  are  used  by  our  author ;  as,  to  don,  i.  e.  to 
to  do  on,  to  doff",  i.  e.  to  do  off,  &c.  In  Hamlet  he  has  used  the 
same  phrase : 

" the  dram  of  base 

"  Doth  all  the  noble  substance  of  worth  dout,1'  &c. 

The  word  being  provincial,  the  same  mistake  has  happened  in 
both  places  ;  doubt  being  printed  in  Hamlet  instead  of  dout. 

Mr.  Pope  for  doubt  substituted  daunt,  which  was  adopted  in  the 
subsequent  editions.  For  the  emendation  now  made  I  imagined  I 
should  have  been  answerable ;  but  on  looking  into  Mr.  Rowe's 
edition  I  find  he  has  anticipated  me,  and  has  printed  the  word  as 
it  is  now  exhibited  in  the  text.     Malone. 

2  —  suck  away  their  souls,]     This  strong  expression  did  not 
escape  the  notice  of  Dryden  and  Pope ;  the  former  having  (less . 
chastely)  employed  it  in  his  Don  Sebastian,  King  of  Portugal : 

"  Sucking  each  others'  souls  while  we  expire  :  " 
and  the  latter,  in  his  Eloisa  to  Abelard  : 

"  Suck  my  last  breath,  and  catch  my  flying  soul." 

Steevens. 


408  KING  HENRY  V.  aMiv. 

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, 

To  give  each  naked  curtle-ax  a  stain, 

That  our  French  gallants  shall  to-day  draw  out, 

And  sheath  for  lack  of  sport :  let  us  but  blow  on  them, 

The  vapour  of  our  valour  will  overturn  them. 

'Tis  positive  'gainst  all  exceptions,  lords, 

That  our  superfluous  lackeys,  and  our  peasants, — 

Who*  in  unnecessary  action,  swarm 

About  our  squares  of  battle3, — were  enough 

To  purge  this  field  of  such  a  hilding  foe  4 ; 

Though  we,  Upon  this  mountain's  basis  by 5 

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-sonuance 6,  and  the  note  to  mount : 

*  About  our  sauAREs  of  battle,]  So,  in  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra: 

"  i no  practice  had 

"  In  the  brave  squares  qftvar."     Steevens. 
4    —  a  hilding  foe ;]   Hilding,  or  hinder  ling,  is  a  lotutoretch. 

Johnson. 
'So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  p.  12  : 

"  He  was  some  hilding  fellow,  that  had  stole 

"  The  horse  he  rode  on."     Steevens. 

*  — upon  this  mountain's  basIsby — ]  See  Henry's  speech, 
Sc.  VII. : 

"  take  a  trumpet,  herald  ; 

"  Ride  thou  unto  the  horsemen  on  yon  hill."     Malone. 

*  The  tucket-sonuance,  &c]  He  uses  terms  of  the  field  as  if 
they  were  going  out  only  to  the  chace  for  sport.     To  dare  the 

field  is  a  phrase  in  falconry.  Birds  are  dared  when  by  the  falcon 
in  the  air  they  are  terrified  from  rising,  so  that  they  will  be  some- 
times taken  by  the  hand. 

Such  an  easy  capture  the  lords  expected  to  make  of  the 
English.     Johnson. 

The  tucket  sonuance  was,  I  believe,  the  name  of  an  introduc- 
tory flourish  on  the  trumpet,  as  toccata  in  Italian  is  the  prelude  of 
a  sonata  on  the  harpsichord,  and  toccar  la  tromba  is  to  blow  the 
trumpet, 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  409 

For  our  approach  shall  so  much  dare  the  field, 
That  England  shall  couch  down  in  fear,  and  yield. 

Enter  Grandpre. 

Grand.  Why  do  you  stay  so  long,  my  lords  of 
France  ? 
Yon  island  carrions 7,  desperate  of  their  bones, 
Ill-favour'dly  become  the  morning  field : 
Their  ragged  curtains  poorly  are  let  loose 8, 
And  our  air  shakes  them  passing  scornfully. 
Big  Mars  seems  bankrupt  in  their  beggar'd  host, 
And  faintly  through  a  rusty  beaver  peeps. 
Their  horsemen  sit  like  fixed  candlesticks, 
With  torch-staves  in  their  hand 9 :  and  their  poor 
jades 

In  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  (no  date,)  "  a  tucket  afar  off." 
Again,  in  The  Devil's  Law  Case,  1623  : 

"  2  tuckets  by  several  trumpets." 
Sonance  is  a  word  used  by  Heywood,  in  his  Rape  of  Lucrece, 
1630: 

"  Or,  if  he  chance  to  endure  our  tongues  so  much 
"  As  but  to  hear  their  sonance.'"     Steevens. 

7  You  island  carrions,  &c]  This  and  the  preceding  descrip- 
tion of  the  English  is  founded  on  the  melancholy  account  given 
by  our  historians,  of  Henry's  army,  immediately  before  the  battle 
of  Agincourt : 

"  The  Englishmen  were  brought  into  great  misery  in  this  jour- 
ney [from  Harfleur  to  Agincourt]  ;  their  victual  was  in  manner 
spent,  and  now  could  they  get  none  : — rest  could  they  none  take, 
for  their  enemies  were  ever  at  hand  to  give  them  alarmes  :  daily 
it  rained,  and  nightly  it  freezed ;  of  fewel  there  was  great  scarcity, 
but  of  fluxes  great  plenty ;  money  they  had  enough,  but  wares  to 
bestowe  it  upon,  for  their  relief  or  comforte,  had  they  little  or 
none."     Holinshed.     Malone. 

8  Their  ragged  curtains  poorly  are  let  loose,]  By  their 
ragged  curtains,  are  meant  their  colours.     M.  Mason. 

The  idea  seems  to  have  been  taken  from  what  every  man  must 
have  observed,  i.  e.  ragged  curtains  put  in  motion  by  the  air,  when 
the  windows  of  mean  houses  are  left  open.     Steevens. 

9  Their  horsemen  sit  like  fixed  candlesticks, 

With  torch-staves  in  their  hand :]     Grandpre  alludes  to  the 
form  of  ancient  candlesticks,  which  frequently  represented  human 
7 


410  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Lob  down  their  heads,  dropping  the  hides  and  hips ; 
The  gum  down-roping  from  their  pale-dead  eyes; 

figures  holding  the  sockets  for  the  lights  in  their  extended 
hands. 

A  similar  image  occurs  in  Vittoria  Corombona,  1612  :  "  —  he 
showed  like  a  pewter  candlestick,  fashioned  like  a  man  in  armour, 
holding  a  tilting  staff  in  his  hand  little  bigger  than  a  candle." 

The  following  is  an  exact  representation  of  one  of  these  candle- 
sticks, now  in  the  possession  of  Francis  Douce,  Esq.  The  recep- 
tacles for  the  candles  are  wanting  in  the  original.  The  sockets 
in  which  they  were  to  be  placed  are  in  the  outstretched  hands  of 
the  figure. 


The  form  of  torch-staves  may  be  ascertained  by  a  wooden  cut  in 
vol.  xiv.  p.  372.     Steevens. 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  V.  411 

And  in  their  pale  dull  mouths  the  gimmal  bit \ 
Lies  foul  with  chew'd  grass,  still  and  motionless ; 
And  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows 2, 
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 3  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 4 ;  On,  to  the  field : 


1  —  gimmal  bit  — ]  Gimmal  is,  in  the  western  counties,  a 
ring :  a  gimmal  bit  is  therefore  a  bit  of  which  the  parts  played 
one  within  another.     Johnson. 

1  meet  with  the  word,  though  differently  spelt,  in  the  old  play 
of  The  Raigne  of  King  Edward  the  Third,  1596  : 

"  Nor  lay  aside  their  jacks  of  gymold  mail." 
Gymold  or  gimmal' d  mail  means  armour  composed  of  links 
like  those  of  a  chain,  which  by  its  flexibility  fitted  it  to  the  shape 
of  the  body  more  exactly  than  defensive  covering  of  any  other 
contrivance.     There  was  a  suit  of  it  to  be  seen  in  the  Tower. 
Spenser,  in  his  Fairy  Queen,  book  i.  ch.  v.  calls  it  xvoven  mail  : 
"  In  woven  mail  all  armed  warily." 
In  Lingua,  &c.  1607,  is  mentioned :. 

" &  gimmal  rink  with  one  link  hanging."    Steevens. 

"  A  gimmal  or  gemmow  ring,  (says  Minsheu,  Dictionary,  1617,) 
from  the  Gal.  gemeau,  Lat.  gemellus,  double,  or  twinnes,  because 
they  be  rings  with  two  or  more  links."     Malone. 

2  —  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows,]  The  crows  who  are 
to  have  the  disposal  of  what  they  shall  leave,  their  hides  and  their 
flesh.     Johnson. 

3  In  life  so  lifeless  — ]     So,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

"  A  living  dead  man."     Steevens. 

*  I  stay  but  for  my  guard  ;]  It  seems,  by  what  follows,  that 
guard  in  this  place  means  rather  something  of  ornament  or  of 
distinction,  than  a  body  of  attendants.     Johnson. 

The  following  quotation  from  Holinshed,  p.  554?,  will  best 
elucidate  this  passage  :  "  The  duke  of  Brabant  when  his  standard 
was  not  come,  caused  a  banner  to  be  taken  from  a  trumpet  and 


412  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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. 

[Exeunt. 

fastened  upon  a  spear,  the  which  he  commanded  to  be  borne 
before  him  instead  of  a  standard." 

In  the  second  part  of  Hey  wood's  Iron  Age,  1632,  Menelaus, 
after  having  enumerated  to  Pyrrhus  the  treasures  of  his  father 
Achilles,  as  his  myrmidons,  &c.  adds  : 

"  His  sword,  spurs,  armour,  guard,  pavilion." 

From  this  last  passage  it  should  appear  that  guard  was  part 
of  the  defensive  armour ;  perhaps  what  we  call  at  present  the 
gorget.  Again,  in  Holinshed,  p.  820:  "  The  one  bare  his 
helmet,  the  second  his  granguard"  &c.     Steevens. 

By  his  guard,  I  believe,  the  Constable  means,  not  any  part  of 
his  dress,  but  the  guard  that  usually  attended  with  his  banner ; 
to  supply  the  want  of  which  he  afterwards  says,  that  he  will 
take  a  banner  from  a  trumpet,  and  use  it  for  his  haste.     It  ap- 
pears, from  a  passage  in  the  last  scene  of  the  fourth  Act,  that 
the  principal  nobility,  and  the  princes,  had  all  their  respective 
banners,  and  of  course  their  guards  : 
"  Of  princes  in  this  number, 
"  And  nobles  bearing  banners,  there  be  dead 
"  One  hundred,"  &c.     M.  Mason. 

Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Steevens  are  of  opinion  that  "  guard  in 
this  place  means  rather  something  of  ornament,  or  of  distinction, 
than  a  body  of  attendants."  But  from  the  following  passage  in 
Holinshed,  p.  554>,  which  our  author  certainly  had  in  his  thoughts, 
it  is  clear,  in  my  apprehension,  that  guard  is  here  used  in  its 
ordinary  sense :  "  When  the  messenger  was  come  back  to  the 
French  hoste,  the  men  of  warre  put  on  their  helmettes,  and 
caused  their  trumpets  to  blow  to  the  battaile.  They  thought 
themselves  so  sure  of  victory,  that  diverse  of  the  noble  men  made 
such  haste  toward  the  battaile,  that  they  left  many  of  their  ser- 
vants and  men  qftvarre  behind  them,  and  some  of  them  would 
not  once  stay  for  their  standards  ;  as  amongst  other  the  Duke 
of  Brabant,  when  his  standard  was  not  come,  caused  a  banner  to 
be  taken  from  a  trumpet,  and  fastened  to  a  speare,  the  which  he 
commanded  to  be  borne  before  him,  instead  of  a  standard."  The 
latter  part  only  of  this  passage  is  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens ;  but 
the  whole  considered  together  proves,  in  my  apprehension,  that 
guard  means  here  nothing  more  than  the  men  of  "war  whose  duty 
it  was  to  attend  on  the  Constable  of  France,  and  among  those 
his  standard,  that  is,  his  standard-bearer.  In  a  preceding  pas- 
sage Holinshed  mentions,  that  "  the  Constable  of  France,  the 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  413 


SCENE  III. 

The  English  Camp. 

Enter   the  E?iglish  Host;   Gloster,   Bedford, 
Exeter,  Salisbury  5,  and  Westmoreland. 

Glo.  Where  is  the  king  ? 

Bed.   The  king  himself  is   rode  to  view  their 

battle. 
West.  Of  fighting  men  they  have  full  threescore 

thousand. 
Exe.  There's  five  to  one ;  besides,  they  all  are 

fresh. 
Sal.  God's  arm  strike  with  us !  'tis  a  fearful  odds. 
God  be  wi'  you,  princes  all ;  I'll  to  my  charge  : 
If  we  no  more  meet,  till  we  meet  in  heaven, 
Then,  joyfully, — my  noble  lord  of  Bedford, — 
My  dear  lord  Gloster, — and  my  good  lord  Exeter, — 
And  my  kind  kinsman  6, — warriors  all,  adieu  ! 


Marshal,  &c.  and  other  of  the  French  nobility,  came  and  pitched 
down  their  standards  and  banners  in  the  county  of  St.  Paule." 
Again :  "  Thus  the  French  men  being  ordered  under  their  stand- 
ards and  banners,  made  a  great  shew :  " — or,  as  Hall  has  it : 
"  Thus  the  French  men  were  every  man  under  his  banner,  only 
waiting,"  &c.  It  appears,  from  both  these  historians,  that  all  the 
princes  and  nobles  in  the  French  army  bore  banners,  and  of  these 
one  hundred  and  twenty-six  were  killed  in  this  battle. 

In  a  subsequent  part  of  the  description  of  this  memorable  vic- 
tory, Holinshed  mentions  that  "  Henry  having  felled  the  Duke  of 
Alanson,  the  king's  guard,  contrary  to  his  mind,  outrageously 
slew  him."  The  Constable  being  the  principal  leader  of  the 
French  army,  had,  without  doubt,  like  Henry,  his  guard  also, 
one  of  whom  bore  before  him,  as  we  may  collect  from  Hall,  the 
banner-royal  of  France.     Malone. 

*  —  Salisbury,]     Thomas  Montacute,  Earl  of  Salisbury. 

Malone. 

6  And  my  kind  kinsman,]     This  must  be  addressed  to  West- 


414  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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  fram'd  of  the  firm  truth  of  valour7. 

[Exit  Salisbury. 
Bed.  He  is  as  full  of  valour,  as  of  kindness 8 ; 
Princely  in  both. 

West.  O  that  we  now  had  here  9 

moreland  :  but  how  was  that  nobleman  related  to  Salisbury  ? 
True  it  is,  that  the  latter  had  married  one  of  the  sisters  and 
coheirs  of  Edmund  Earl  of  Kent,  and  that  another  of  them  was 
wife  to  Westmoreland's  eldest  son.  Salisbury's  daughter  was 
likewise  married  to  a  younger  son  of  Westmoreland's,  who,  in 
her  right,  was  afterward  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  appears  in  the 
Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  The  present  speaker 
is  Thomas  Montacute,  who  is  killed  by  a  shot  in  the  next  play. 
But  these  connections  do  not  seem  to  make  him  akin  to  West- 
moreland.    Ritson. 

7  Bed.  Farewell,  good  Salisbury,  &c]  Thus  the  old  edition 
[i.  e.  the  first  folio]  : 

"  Bed.  Farewell,    good  Salisbury,  and  good  luck  go  with 

thee; 
"  And  yet  I  do  thee  wrong  to  mind  thee  of  it, 
"  For  thou  art  fram'd  of  the  firm  truth  of  valour. 
*'  Exe.  Farewell,  kind  lord  :  fight  valiantly  to-day." 
What !  does  he  do  Salisbury  wrong  to  wish  him  good   luck  ? 
The  ingenious  Dr.  Thirlby  prescribed  to  me  the  transposition  of 
the  verses,  which  I  have  made  in  the  text :  and  the  old   quartos 
plainly  lead  to  such  a  regulation.     Theobald. 

I  believe  this  transposition  to  be  perfectly  right,  for  it  was 
already  made  in  the  quartos,  1600  and  1608,  as  follows  : 
"  Farewell,  kind  lord  ;  fight  valiantly  to-day, 
"  And  yet  in  truth  I  do  thee  wrong, 
"  For  thou  art  made  on  the  true  sparkes  of  honour." 

Steevens. 

8  He  is  as  full  of  valour,  as  of  kindness ;]  So,  in  King 
Richard  II.  : 

"  As  full  of  valour,  as  of  royal  blood — ."     Steevens. 

9  O  that  we  now  had  here,  &c]  From  Holinshed :.  "  It  is 
said  also,  that  he  should  heare  one  of  the  hoste  utter  his  wishe 
to  another,  that  stood  next  to  him,  in  this  wise  :  I  would  to  God 
there  were  present  here  with  us  this  day  so  many  good  souldiers 
as  are  at  this  hour  within  the  realme  of  England ;  whereupon 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  V.  415 

Enter  King  Henry. 

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  enough 
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 2,  I  am  not  covetous  for  gold ; 
Nor  care  I,  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost ; 
It  yearns  me  not 3,  if  men  my  garments  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 : 
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  4 : 
Rather  proclaim  it,  Westmoreland,  through  my  host 
That  he,  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 

the  king  answered :  I  would  not  wishe  a  man  more  here  than  I 
have,"  &c.     Malone. 

1  My  cousin  Westmoreland?]  In  the  quartos,  1600  and  1608, 
this  speech  is  addressed  to  Warwick.     Steevens. 

2  By  Jove,]  The  king  prays  like  a  christian,  and  swears  like 
a  heathen.     Johnson. 

I  believe  the  player-editors  alone  are  answerable  for  this  in- 
congruity. In  consequence  of  the  Stat.  3.  James  1.  c.  xxi. 
against  introducing  the  sacred  name  on  the  stage,  &c.  they  omit- 
ted it  where  they  could  ;  and  in  verse,  (where  the  metre  would 
not  allow  omission,)  they  substituted  some  other  word  in  its 
place.     Malone. 

3  It  yearns  me  not,]  To  yearn  is  to  grieve  or  vex.  So,  in 
The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor :  "  She  laments  for  it,  that  it 
would  yearn  your  heart  to  see  it."     Steevens. 

4  —  O,  do  not  wish  one  more  :]  Read  (for  the  sake  of 
metre) — "  Wish  not  one  more."     Ritson. 

5 


416  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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 5 : 

He,  that  outlives  this  day,  and  comes  safe  home, 

Will  stand  a  tip-toe  when  this  day  is  nam'd, 

And  rouse  him  at  the  name  of  Crispian. 

He,  that  shall  live  this  day,  and  see  old  age  6, 

Will  yearly  on  the  vigil ;  feast  his  friends,] 

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 8. 

Old  men  forget ;  yet  all 9  shall  be  forgot, 

But  he'll  remember  with  advantages  *, 

5  —  of  Crispian:]  The  battle  of  Agincourt  was  fought  upon 
the  25th  of  October  [1415],  St.  Crispin's  day.  The  legend 
upon  which  this  is  founded,  follows  : — "  Crispinus  and  Crispian  us 
were  brethren,  born  at  Rome;  from  whence  they  travelled  to 
Soissons,  in  France,  about  the  year  303,  to  propagate  the  Christian 
religion ;  but  because  they  would  not  be  chargeable  to  others  for 
their  maintenance,  they  exercised  the  trade  of  shoemakers  ;  but 
the  governor  of  the  town  discovering  them  to  be  Christians, 
ordered  them  to  be  beheaded  about  the  year  303.  From  which 
time,  the  shoemakers  made  choice  of  them  for  their  tutelar 
saints."  Wheatley's  Rational  Illustration,  folio  edit.  p.  76.  See 
Hall's  Chronicle,  fol.  47.     Grey. 

6  He,  that  shall  live  this  day,  and  see  old  age,]  The  folio 
reads : 

"  He  that  shall  see  this  day  and  live  old  age." 
The  transposition  (which  is  supported  by  the  quarto)  was  made 
by  Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 

7  —  the  vigil  — ]     i.  e.  the  evening  before  this  festival. 

Steevens. 

8  And  say,  these  wounds  I  had  on  Crispin's  day.]  This  line  I 
have  restored  from  the  quarto,  1600.  The  preceding  line  appears 
to  me  abrupt  and  imperfect  without  it.     Malone. 

9  —  yet  all  — ]     I  believe  we  should  read— yea,  all,  &c. 

Malone. 
1  —  with  advantages,]     Old  men,  notwithstanding  the  natural 
forgetfulness  of  age,  shall  remember  "  their  feats  of  this  day," 


sc.  m.  KING  HENRY  V.  417 

What  feats  he  did  that  day:  Then  shall  our  names, 
Familiar  in  their  mouths 2  as  household  words, — 
Harry  the  king,  Bedford,  and  Exeter, 
Warwick  and  Talbot,  Salisbury  and  Gloster, — 
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 3  of  the  world, 
But  we  in  it  shall  be  remembered: 
We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers ; 
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 4 : 

and  remember  to  tell  them  "  with  advantage."  Age  is  commonly 
boastful,  and  inclined  to  magnify  past  acts  and  past  times. 

Johnson. 

2  Familiar  in  their  mouths  — ]  i.  e.  in  the  mouths  of  the 
old  man  ("  who  has  outlived  the  battle  and  come  safe  home,") 
■  and  "  his  friends."     This  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto,  which  I  have 

preferred  to  that  of  the  folio, — his  mouth  ;  because  their  cups,  the 
reading  of  the  folio  in  the  subsequent  line,  would  otherwise  ap- 
pear, if  not  ungrammatical,  extremely  aukward.  The  quarto 
reads — in  their  flowing  bowls  ;  and  there  are  other  considerable 
variations  in  the  two  copies.     Malone. 

3  From  this  day  to  the  ending  — ]  It  may  be  observed  that  we 
are  apt  to  promise  to  ourselves  a  more  lasting  memory  than  the 
changing  state  of  human  things  admits.  This  prediction  is  not 
verified ;  the  feast  of  Crispin  passes  by  without  any  mention  of 
Agincourt.  Late  events  obliterate  the  former :  the  civil  wars 
have  left  in  this  nation  scarcely  any  tradition  of  more  ancient  his- 
tory.    Johnson. 

*  —  gentle  his  condition  :]  This  day  shall  advance  him  to  the 
rank  of  a  gentleman.     Johnson. 

King  Henry  V.  inhibited  any  person  but  such  as  had  a  right  by 
inheritance,  or  grant,  to  assume  coats  of  arms,  except  those  who 
fought  with  him  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt ;  and,  I  think,  these 
last  were  allowed  the  chief  seats  of  honour  at  all  feasts  and  pub- 
lick  meetings.     Tollet. 

That  Mr.  Tollet  is  right  in  his  account,  is  proved  by  the  origi- 
nal writ  to  the  Sheriff  of  Southampton  and  others,  printed  in  Ry- 
mer's  Foedera,  anno  5  Henry  V.  vol.  ix.  p.  457.  And  see  more 
fully  on  the  subject  Anstis's  Order  of  the  Garter,  vol.  ii.  p.  108, 
VOL.  XVII.  2  E 


418  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv . 

And  gentlemen  in  England,  now  a-bed, 
Shall  think  themselves  accurs'd,  they  were  not  here ; 
And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap,  while  any  speaks, 
That  fought  with  us  upon  Saint  Crispin's  day5. 

Enter  Salisbury. 

Sal.    My  sovereign   lord,  bestow  yourself  with 
speed  : 
The  French  are  bravely  °  in  their  battles  set, 
And  will  with  all  expedience 7  charge  on  us. 

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,  cousin  ? 
West.   God's  will,  my  liege,  'would  you  and  I 
alone, 
Without  more  help,  might  fight  this  battle  out 8 ! 
K.  Hen.  Why,  now  thou  hast  unwish'd  five  thou- 
sand men9; 

who  mentions  it,  and  observes  thereon,  citing  Gore's  Catalog-.  Rei 
Herald.  Introduct.  and  Sandford's  Geneal.  Hist.  p.  283. 

Vaillant. 

5  —  upon  Saint  Crispin's  day.]  This  speech,  like  many  others 
of  the  declamatory  kind,  is  too  long.  Had  it  been  contracted  to 
about  half  the  number  of  lines,  it  might  have  gained  force,  and 
lost  none  of  the  sentiments.     Johnson. 

6  —  bravely — ]     Is  splendidly,  ostentatiously.     Johnson. 
Rather — gallantly.     So,  in  The  Tempest : 

"  Bravely  the  figure  of  this  harpy  hast  thou 
"  Perform'd,  my  Ariel  !  "     Steevens. 

7  -—  expedience  — ]  i.  e.  expedition.     So,  in  King  Richard  II. : 

"  Are  making  hither  with  all  due  expedience."  Steevens. 

8  —  might  fight  this  battle  out  !]  Thus  the  quarto.  The 
folio  reads  : 

"  — —  could  fight  this  royal  battle."     M alone. 

9  —  thou  hast  unwish'd  five  thousand  men  ;]  By  wishing  only 
thyself  and  me,  thou  hast  wished  five  thousand  men  away.  Shak- 
speare  never  thinks  of  such  trifles  as  numbers.  In  the  last  scene 
the  French  are  said  to  bejtill  threescore  thousand,  which  Exeter 


sail.  KING  HENRY  V.  419 

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, 

declares  to  be  Jive  to  one;  but,  by  the  king's  account,  they  are 
twelve  to  one.     Johnson. 

Holinshed  makes  the  English  army  consist  of  15,000,  and  the 
French  of  60,000  horse,  besides  foot,  &c.  in  all  100,000  ;  while 
Walsingham  and  Harding  represent  the  English  as  but  9000  ;  and 
other  authors  say  that  the  number  of  French  amounted  to  150,000. 

Steevens. 

Dr.  Johnson,  I  apprehend,  misunderstood  the  King's  words. 
He  supposes  that  Henry  means  to  say,  that  Westmoreland,  wish- 
ing himself  and  Henry  alone  to  fight  the  battle  out  with  the 
French,  had  wished  away  the  whole  English  army,  consisting  of 
Jive  thousand  men.  But  Henry's  meaning  was,  I  conceive,  very 
different.  Westmoreland  had  before  expressed  a  wish  that  ten 
thousand  of  those  who  were  idle  at  that  moment  in  England  were 
added  to  the  King's  army  ;  a  wish,  for  which,  when  it  was  uttered, 
Henry,  whether  from  policy  or  spirit,  reprimanded  him.  West- 
moreland now  says,  he  should  be  glad  that  he  and  the  King  alone, 
without  any  other  aid  whatsoever,  were  to  fight  the  battle  out 
against  the  French.  "  Bravely  said,  (replies  Henry,)  you  have 
now  half  atoned  for  your  former  timid  wish  for  ten  thousand  addi- 
tional troops.  You  have  unwished  half  of  what  you  wish'd  before." 
The  King  is  speaking  figuratively,  and  Dr.  Johnson  understood 
him  literally. — Shakspeare  therefore,  though  often  inattentive  to 
"  such  trifles  as  numbers,"  is  here  not  inaccurate.  He  undoubt- 
edly meant  to  represent  the  English  army,  (according  to  Exeter's 
state  of  it,)  as  consisting  of  about  twelve  thousand  men  ;  and  ac- 
cording to  the  best  accounts  this  was  nearly  the  number  that 
Henry  had  in  the  field.  Hardyng,  who  was  himself  at  the 
battle  of  Agincourt,  says  that  the  French  army  consisted  of  one 
hundred  thousand ;  but  the  account  is  probably  exaggerated. 

Malone. 

Fabian  says  the  French  were  40,000,  and  the  English  only  7000. 

Mr.  Malone,  in  a  very  elaborate  note,  has  endeavoured  to  prove 
that  Westmoreland,  by  wishing  that  he  and  the  King  alone,  with- 
out more  help,  might  fight  the  battle  out,  did  not  wish  away  the 
whole  of  the  army,  but  5000  men  only.  But  I  must  confess 
that  I  cannot  comprehend  his  argument,  and  must  therefore  con- 
cur with  Johnson,  in  his  observation  on  the  poet's  inattention. 

M.  Mason. 
2  E  2 


420  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

If  for  thy  ransom  thou  wilt  now  compound, 

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  1 

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. 

K.  Hen.  Who  hath  sent  thee  now  ? 

Mont.  The  Constable  of  France. 

K.  Hen.    I  pray  thee,  bear  my  former  answer 

back; 
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  liv'd,  was  kill'd  with  hunting  him. 
A  many 2  of  our  bodies  shall,  no  doubt, 
Find  native  graves ;  upon  the  which,  I  trust, 
Shall  witness  live  in  brass 3  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  fam'd ;  for  there  the  sun  shall  greet 

them, 
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  4 ; 

1  —  mind,]     i.  e.  remind.     So,  in  Coriolanus : 

"  I  minded  him  how  royal'twas  to  pardon."     Steevens. 

2  A  many  — ]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quarto — "  And  many. 

Steevens. 

3  —  in  brass  — ]    i.  e.  in  brazen  plates  anciently  let  into  tomb- 
stones.    Steevens. 

4  Mark  then  a   bounding  valour  in  our  English  ;]     The  old 
folios — 


sc.ni.  KING  HENRY  V.  421 

That,  being  dead,  like  to  the  bullet's  grazing, 
Break  out  into  a  second  course  of  mischief, 

"  Mark  then  abounding ." 

The  quartos,  more  erroneously  still — 

"  Mark  then  aboundant ." 

Mr.  Pope  degraded  the  passage  in  both  his  editions,  because,  I 
presume,  he  did  not  understand  it.  I  have  reformed  the  text, 
and  the  allusion  is  exceedingly  beautiful ;  comparing  the  revival 
of  the  English  valour  to  the  rebounding  of  a  cannon-ball. 

Theobald. 

Mr.  Theobald  was  probably  misled  by  the  idle  notion  that  our 
author's  imagery  must  be  round  and  corresponding  on  every  side, 
and  that  this  line  was  intended  to  be  in  unison  with  the  next* 
This  was  so  far  from  being  an  object  of  Shakspeare's  attention, 
.that  he  seems  to  delight  in  passing  hastily  from  one  idea  to  ano- 
ther. To  support  his  emendation,  Mr.  Theobald  misrepresented 
the  reading  of  the  quarto,  which  he  said  was  aboundant.  It  is 
abundant ;  and  proves,  in  my  apprehension,  decisively,  that  the 
reading  of  the  folio  is  not  formed  by  any  accidental  union  of  dif- 
ferent words  ;  for  though  abounding  may,  according  to  Mr.  Theo- 
bald's notion,  be  made  two  words,  by  what  analysis  can  abundant 
be  separated  ? 

We  have  had  already,  in  this  play — "  superfluous  courage,"  an 
expression  of  nearly  the  same  import  as — "  abounding  valour." 

Mr.  Theobald's  emendation,  however,  has  been  adopted  in  all 
the  modern  editions. 

That  our  author's  word  was  abundant  or  abounding,  not  a  bound- 
ing, may  be  proved  by  King  Richard  III.  where  we  again  meet 
with  the  same  epithet  applied  to  the  same  subject : 

"  To  breathe  the  abundant  valour  of  the  heart." 

Malone. 

The  preceding  note  (in  my  opinion  at  least)  has  not  proved  that, 
though  Shakspeare  talks  of  abundant  valour  in  King  Richard  III. 
he  might  not  have  written  a  bounding  valour  in  King  Henry  V. 
Must  our  author  indulge  himself  in  no  varieties  of  phraseology, 
but  always  be  tied  down  to  the  use  of  similar  expressions?  Or 
does  it  follow  that,  because  his  imagery  is  sometimes  incongruous, 
that  it  was  always  so  ?  Aboundant  may  be  separated  as  regularly 
as  abounding  ;  for  boundant  (like  mountant  in  Timon  of  Athens, 
and  questant  in  All's  Well  That  Ends  Well)  might  have  been  a 
word  once  in  use.  The  reading  stigmatized  as  a  misrepresenta- 
tion might  also  have  been  found  in  the  quarto  consulted  by  Mr. 
Theobald,  though  not  in  such  copies  of  it  as  Mr.  Malone  and  I 
have  met  with.  In  several  quarto  editions,  of  similar  date,  there 
are  varieties  which  till  very  lately  were  unobserved.  I  have  not 
therefore  discarded  Mr.  Theobald's  emendation.     Steevens. 


422  KING  HENRY  V.  act  IV. 

Killing  in  relapse  of  mortality 5. 

Let  me  speak  proudly; — Tell  the  Constable, 


s  Killing  in  relapse  of  mortality.]  What  it  is  to  kill  in  re- 
lapse of  mortality,  I  do  not  know.  I  suspect  that  it  should  be 
read: 

"  Killing  in  reliques  of  mortality." 

That  is,  continuing  to  kill  when  they  are  the  reliques  that  death 
has  left  behind  it. 

That  the  allusion  is,  as  Mr.  Theobald  thinks,  exceedingly 
beautiful,  I  am  afraid  few  readers  will  discover.  The  valour  of  a 
putrid  body,  that  destroys  by  the  stench,  is  one  of  the  thoughts 
that  do  no  great  honour  to  the  poet.  Perhaps  from  this  putrid 
valour  Dryden  might  borrow  the  posthumous  empire  of  Don  Se- 
bastian, who  was  to  reign  wheresoever  his  atoms  should  be  scat- 
tered.    Johnson. 

By  this  phrase,  however  uncouth,  Shakspeare  seems  to  mean 
the  same  as  in  the  preceding  line.  Mortality  is  death.  So,  in 
King  Henry  VI.  Part  I. : 

I  beg  mortality 


Rather  than  life- 


Relapse  may  be  used  for  rebound.  Shakspeare  has  given  mind 
of  honour  for  honourable  mind;  and  by  the  same  rule  might 
write  relapse  of  mortality  for  fatal  or  mortal  rebound;  or  by  re- 
lapse of  mortality,  he  may  mean — after  they  had  relapsed  into 
inanimation. 

This  putrid  valour  is  common  to  the  descriptions  of  other  poets, 
as  well  as  Shakspeare  and  Dryden,  and  is  predicated  to  be  no 
less  victorious  by  Lucan,  lib.  vii.  v.  821  : 

Quid  fugis  hanc  cladem,  quid  olentes  deseris  agros  ? 
Has  trahe,  Caesar,  aquas  ;  hoc,  si  potes,  utere  coelo. 
Sed  tibi  tabentes  populi  Pharsalica  rura 
Eripiunt,  camposque  tenent  victore  fugato. 
Corneille  has  imitated  this  passage  in  the  first  speech  in  his 
Pompee : 

■ 1 —  de  chars, 

Sur  ses  champs  empestes  confusement  epars, 
Ces  montagnes  de  morts  prives  d'honneurs  supremes, 
Que  la  nature  force  a  se  venger  eux-memes, 
Et  de  leurs  troncs  pourris  exhale  dans  les  vents 
De  quoi  faire  la  guerre  au  reste  des  vivans. 
Voltaire,  in  his  Letter  to  the  Academy  of  Belles  Lettres,  at 
Paris,  opposes  the  preceding  part  of  this  speech  to  a  quotation 
from    Shakspeare.     The   Frenchman,    however,    very  prudently 
stopped  before  he  came  to  the  lines  which  are  here  quoted. 

Steevens, 


sc.  m.  KING  HENRY  V.  423 

We  are  but  warriors  for  the  working-day  6 ; 
Our  gayness  and  our  gilt 7,  are  all  besmirch'd 
With  rainy  marching  in  the  painful  field ; 
There's  not  a  piece  of  feather  in  our  host, 
(Good  argument,  I  hope,  we  shall  not  fly,) 
And  time  hath  worn  us  into  slovenry  : 
But,  by  the  mass,  our  hearts  are  in  the  trim : 
And  my  poor  soldiers  tell  me — yet  ere  night 
They'll  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 
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  to  them, 
Shall  yield  them  little,  tell  the  Constable. 

Mont.  I  shall,  king  Harry.   And  so  fare  thee  well : 
Thou  never  shalt  hear  herald  any  more.         [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  I  fear,  thou'lt  once  more  come  again 
for  ransom. 

Enter  the  Duke  of  York8. 

York.  My  lord,  most  humbly  on  my  knee  I  beg 
The  leading  of  the  vaward. 

6  —  warriors  for  the  working-day:]     We  are  soldiers  but 
coarsely  dressed;  we  have  not  on  our  holiday  apparel.  Johnson. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  ■         Pr'ythee,  tell  her  but  a  tvorky-day  fortune." 

Stkevens. 
?  —  our  gilt,]     i.  e.  golden  show,  superficial  gilding.     Ob- 
solete.    So,  in  Timon  of  Athens  : 

"  When  thou  wast  in  thy  gilt  and  thy  perfume,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Twelfth-Night : 

"  The  double  gilt  of  this  opportunity  you  let  time  wash  off." 
Again,  in  Arden  of  Feversham,  1592 : 

"  And  now  the  rain  hath  beaten  off  thy  gilt"    Steevens. 

8  — tae  Duke  of  York.']     This   personage  is   the  same  who 

appears  in  our  author's  King  Richard  II.  by  the  title  of  Duke  of 

Aumerle.  His  christian  name  was  Edward.    He  was  the  eldest  son 

6 


424  KING  HENRY  V.  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. 

Alarums  :  Excursions.     Enter  French  Soldier, 
Pistol,  and  Boy. 

Pist.  Yield,  cur. 

Fr.  Sol.  Je  pense,  que  vous  estes  le  gentilhomme 
de  bonne  qualite. 

Pist.  Quality  ?  Callino,  castore  me  !  art  thou  a 
gentleman9?  What  is  thy  name ?  discuss1. 

of  Edmond  of  Langley,  Duke  of  York,  who  is  introduced  in  the 
same  play,  and  who  was  the  fifth  son  of  King  Edward  III. 
Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge,  who  appears  in  the  second  Act  of 
this  play,  was  younger  brother  to  this  Edward  Duke  of  York. 

Malone. 
9  Quality,  call  you  me  ? — Construe  me,]     The  old  copy  reads 
— "  Qualtitie  calmie  custure  me — ."     Steevens. 
We  should  read  this  nonsense  thus  : 

"  Quality,  cality — construe  me,  art  thou  a  gentleman  ?  " 
i.  e.  tell  me,  let  me  understand  whether  thou  be'st  a  gentleman. 

Warbukton. 
Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  MS.  notes,  proposes  to  read  : 

"  Quality,  call  you  me  ?  construe  me,"  &c.     Steevens. 
The  alteration  proposed  by  Mr.  Edwards  has  been  too  hastily 
adopted.     Pistol,  who  does  not  understand  French,  imagines  the 
prisoner  to  be  speaking  of  his  own  quality.     The  line  should 
therefore  have  been  given  thus  : 

"  Quality! — calmly,  construe  me,  art  thou  a  gentleman." 

Ritson. 
The  words  in  the  folio  (where  alone  they  are  found) — '  Qualitee 
calmie  custure  me,'  appeared  such  nonsense,  that  some  emenda- 
tion was  here  a  matter  of  necessity,  and  accordingly  that  made  by 
the  joint  efforts  of  Dr.  Warburton  and  Mr.  Edwards  has  been 
adopted  in  mine  and  the  late  editions.  But  since  I  have  found 
reason  to  believe  that  the  old  copy  is  very  nearly  right,  and  that 
a  much  slighter  emendation  than  that  which  has  been  made  will 
suffice.     In  a  book  entitled,  A  Handfull  of  Plesant  Delites,  con- 


SC.  IV. 


KING  HENRY  V. 


425 


Fr.  Sol.  0  seigneur  Dieu  ! 

Pist.  O,  signieur  Dew  should  be  a  gentleman  *2 :•— 

taining  sundrie  new  Sonets, — newly  devised  to  the  newest  Tunes, 
&c.  by  Clement  Robinson  and  Others,  16mo.  1584,  is  "  A  Sonet 
of  a  Lover  in  the  Praise  of  his  Lady,  to  Calen  o  custure  me,  sung 
at  every  line's  end." 

"  When  as  I  view  your  comely  grace,  Calen"  &c. 

Pistol,  therefore,  we  see,  is  only  repeating  the  burden  of  an 
old  song,  and  the  words  should  be  undoubtedly  printed — 

"  Quality  !  Calen  o  custure  me.    Art  thou  a  gentleman,"  &c. 

He  elsewhere  has  quoted  the  old  ballad  beginning — 
"  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led  ?  " 

With  what  propriety  the  present  words  are  introduced,  it  is  not 
necessary  to  inquire.  Pistol  is  not  very  scrupulous  in  his  quota- 
tions. 

It  may  also  be  observed,  that  construe  me  is  not  Shakspeare's 
phraseology,  but — construe  to  me.  So,  in  Twelfth-Night :  "  I 
will  construe  to  them  whence  you  come,"  &c.     Malone. 

Construe  me,  though  not  the  phraseology  of  our  author's 
more  chastised  characters,  might  agree  sufficiently  with  that  of 
Pistol. 

Mr.  Malone's  discovery  is  a  very  curious  one,  and  when  (as 
probably  will  be  the  case)  some  further  ray  of  light  is  thrown  on 
the  unintelligible  words — Calen,  &c.  I  will  be  the  first  to  vote 
them  into  the  text.     Steevens. 

"  Callino,  castore  me,"  is  an  old  Irish  song  which  is  preserved 
in  Playford's  Musical  Companion,  673  : 

Cantus  Primus. 


Cal-li-no      Cal  -  li  -  no      Callino  Cas-to-re  me. 


E  -  va  Ee  E  -  va  Ee    loo        loo      loo     loo  lee. 
Cantus  Secundus. 


fee 


u 


§a 


m  m  <q 


Cal-li-no       Cal-li-no     Calli  -no Cas-to-re  me. 


PS 


^O 


^fg|dd|  nl=fc^=t 


o: 


E-va    Ee    E-va    Ee  loo     loo  loo  loo  lee. 


426 


KING  HENRY  V. 


ACT  IV. 


Perpend  my  words,  O  signieur  Dew,  and  mark; — 
O  signieur  Dew,  thou  diest  on  point  of  fox 3, 


Medius. 


^4-S-^=S=3^ 


i 


m 


w~ii~d 


Cal-li  -  no      Cal-li-no     Cal-li-no  Cas  -  to-re    me. 


3 


UEk 


g 


o © ©■ 


SEZ35 


E-va     Ee    E-va      Ee    loo      loo     loo    loo    lee. 


Bassus. 


OZB 


i 


m* 


^g 


m  m]  10 


Cal-li  -  no     Cal  -  li  -  no  Cal-li  -  no  Cas  -  to  -re  me. 


■m 


CS-A 


-O 


W 


?-©- 


a 


E-va    Ee     E-va    Ee     loo      loo   loo     loo     lee. 

The  words,  as  I  learn  from  Mr.  Finnegan,  master  of  the  school 
established  in  London  for  the  education  of  the  Irish  poor,  mean 
"  Little  girl  of  my  heart  for  ever  and  ever."  They  have,  it  is 
true,  no  great  connection  with  the  poor  Frenchman's  supplications, 
nor  were  they  meant  to  have  any.  Pistol  instead  of  attending  to 
him,  contemptuously  hums  a  song.     Boswell. 

1  —  discuss.]  This  affected  word  is  used  by  Lily,  in  his 
Woman  in  the  Moon,  1597  : 

**  But  first  I  must  discuss  this  heavenly  cloud." 

Steevens. 

a  —  signieur  Dew  should  be  a  gentleman  :]  I  cannot  help 
thinking,  that  Shakspeare  intended  here  a  stroke  at  a  passage  in  a 
famous  old  book,  called  The  Gentleman's  Academie  in  Hawking, 
Hunting,  and  Armorie,  written  originally  by  Juliana  Barnes,  and 
re-published  by  Gervase  Markham,  1595.  The  first  chapter  ol 
the  Booke  of  Armorie  is,  "  the  difference  'twixt  Churles  and 
Gentlemen  ;  "  and  it  ends  thus  :  "  From  the  offspring  of  gentle- 
manly Japhet  came  Abraham,  Moyses,  Aaron,  and  the  Prophets  ; 
and  also  the  king  of  the  right  line  of  Mary,  of  whom  that  only 
absolute  gentleman,  Jesus,  was  borne  : — gentleman,  by  his  mother 
Mary,  princesse  of  coat  armor."     Farmer. 

3  —thou  diest  on  point  of  fox,]  Fox  is  an  old  cant  word  for 
a  sword.     So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Philaster : 

"  I  made  my  father's  o\&jbx  fly  about  his  ears." 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  427 

Except,  O  signieur,  thou  do  give  to  me 
Egregious  ransom. 

Fr.  Sol.  0,  prennez  miser icorde !  ayez  pitie  de 
moy ! 

Pisr.  Moy  shall  not  serve,  I  will  have  forty  moys; 
For  I  will  fetch  thy  rim 4  out  at  thy  throat, 
In  drops  of  crimson  blood. 


The  same  expression  occurs  in  The  Two  Angry  Women  of 
Abington,  1599 :  "  I  had  a  sword,  ay  the  flower  of  Smithfield 
for  a  sword ;  a  right  fox,  i'  faith." 

Again,  in  The  Life  and  Death  of  Captain  Thomas  Stukeley, 
1605  :  "  — old  hacked  swords,  foxes,  bilbos,  and  horn-buckles." 
Again,  in  The  Devil's  Charter,  1607  : 

'*  And  by  this  awful  cross  upon  my  blade, 

"  And  by  t\\\sfox  which  stinks  of  Pagan  blood." 

Steevens. 
*  For  I  will  fetch  thy  rim  — ]     We  should  read : 
"  Or,  I  will  fetch  thy  ransom  out  of  thy  throat." 

Warburton. 
1  know  not  what  to  do  with  rim.  The  measure  gives  reason 
to  suppose  that  it  stands  for  some  monosyllable ;  and,  besides, 
ransom  is  a  word  not  likely  to  have  been  corrupted.  Johnson. 
It  appears  from  Sir  Arthur  Gorges's  translation  of  Lucan,  1614, 
that  some  part  of  the  intestines  was  anciently  called  the  rim, 
Lucan,  book  i. : 

"  The  slender  rimme  too  weake  to  part 
"  The  boyling  liver  from  the  heart"        ." 
parvusque  secat  vitalia  limes.     L.  623. 
"  Parvus  limes  (says  one  of  the  scholiasts)  praecordia  indicat ; 
membrana  ilia  qua?  cor  et  pulmones  a  jecore  et  bene  dirimit." 
I  believe  it  is  now  called  the  diaphragm  in  human  creatures, 
and  the  skirt  or  midriff  in  beasts  ;  but  still,  in  some  places,  the 
rim. 

Phil.  Holland,  in  his  translation  of  Pliny's  Natural  History, 
several  times  mentions  the  rim  of  the  paunch.  See  book  xxviii. 
ch.  ix.  p.  321,  &c. 

Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  14th  Iliad  : 

"  And  strook  him  in  his  belly's  rimme — ."     Steevens. 
Cole,  in  his  Dictionary,  1678,  describes  it  as  the  caul  in  which 
the  bowels  are  wrapped,     M alone. 

Ryno  is  at  this  day  a  vulgar  cant  expression  for  money  ;— 
ready  ryno  means  ready  money.  This  was  probably  the  ex- 
pression that  Pistol  meant  to  use  ;  and  I  should  suppose  ryno, 
instead  of  rym,  to  be  the  true  reading.     M.  Mason. 

I  ought  to  have  some  kindness  for  this  conjecture,  as  it  has 


428  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Fr.  Sol.  Est  il  impossible  d'eschapper  la  force  dt 
ton  bras? 
Fist.  Brass,  cur b ! 

suggested  itself  to  me  more  than  once  ;  and  yet  I  fear  it  is  what 
Dr.  Warburton  calls  (in  a  note  on  Othello)  a  White  Friars' 
phrase,  of  Alsatian  origin,  and  consequently  much  more  modem 
than  the  age  of  Shakspeare. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  idea,  however,  may  receive  countenance  from 
a  passage  in  Timon  : 

"  Tim.  Cut  my  heart  in  sums. 

"  Tit.  Mine,  fifty  talents. 

"  Tim.   Tell  out  my  blood. 

"  Luc.  Five  thousand  crowns,  my  lord. 

"  Tim.  Five  thousand  drops  pay  that."  Steevens. 
J  Brass,  cur !]  Either  Shakspeare  had  very  little  knowledge 
in  the  French  language,  or  his  over-fondness  for  punning  led  him, 
in  this  place,  contrary  to  his  own  judgment,  into  an  error.  Almost 
every  one  knows  that  the  French  word  bras  is  pronounced  brau  ; 
and  what  resemblance  of  sound  does  this  bear  to  brass,  that  Pistol 
should  reply,  "  Brass,  cur?  "  The  joke  would  appear  to  a  reader, 
but  could  scarce  be  discovered  in  the  performance  of  the  play. 

Sir  W.  Rawlinson. 
If  the  pronunciation  of  the  French  language  be  not  changed 
since  Shakspeare's  time,  which  is  not  unlikely,  it  may  be  sus- 
pected that  some  other  man  wrote  the  French  scenes.  Johnson. 
Dr.  Johnson  makes  a  doubt,  whether  the  pronunciation  of  the 
French  language  may  not  be  changed  since  Shakspeare's  time ; 
"  if  not  (says  he),  it  may  be  suspected  that  some  other  man  wrote 
the  French  scenes  ;  "  but  this  does  not  appear  to  be  the  case,  at 
least  in  this  termination,  from  the  rules  of  the  grammarians,  or 
the  practice  of  the  poets.  I  am  certain  of  the  former  from  the 
French  Alphabeth  of  De  la  Mothe,  and  the  Orthoepia  Gallica  of 
John  Eliot ;  and  of  the  latter  from  the  rhymes  of  Marot,  Ron- 
sard,  and  Du  Bartas.  Connections  of  this  kind  were  very  com- 
mon. Shakspeare  himself  assisted  Ben  Jonson  in  his  Sejanus,  as 
it  was  originally  written  ;  and  Fletcher  in  his  Two  Noble  Kins- 
men.    Farmer. 

Mr.  Bowie  has  at  least  rendered  doubtful  the  question  concern- 
ing the  different  pronunciation  of  the  French  language.  See 
Archasologia,  vol.  vi.  p.  76.     Douce. 

The  word  moy  proves,  in  my  apprehension,  decisively,  that 
Shakspeare,  or  whoever  furnished  him  with  his  French,  (if  indeed 
he  was  assisted  by  any  one,)  was  unacquainted  with  the  true  pro- 
nunciation of  that  language.  Moy  he  has,  in  King  Richard  II. 
made  a  rhyme  to  destroy,  so  that  it  is  clear  that  he  supposed  it 
was  pronounced  exactly  as  it  is  spelled,  as  he  here  supposes  bras 
to  be  pronounced : 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  429 

Thou  damned  and  luxurious  mountain  goat6, 
Offer'st  me  brass  ? 

Fr.  Sol.  0  pardonnez  moy ! 

"  Speak  it  in  French,  king ;  say,  pardonnez  moy. 
"  Dost  thou  teach  pardon  pardon  to  destroy  ?  " 

See  also  vol.  iv.  p.  419,  n.  3. 

The  word  bras  was,  without  doubt,  pronounced,  in  the  last  age, 
by  the  French,  and  by  the  English  who  understood  French,  as  at 
present,  bravo.  So,  as  Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me,  in  the  pro- 
logue to  The  First  Day's  Entertainment  at  Rutland  House,  by  Sir 
W.  D'Avenant : 

"  And  could  the  walls  to  such  a  wideness  draw, 
"  That  all  might  sit  at  ease  in  chaise  d  bras." 

Drummond  of  Hawthornden  tells  us  that  Ben  Jonson  did  not 
understand  French.  It  does  not,  I  own,  therefore  follow  that 
Shakspeare  was  also  unacquainted  with  that  language  ;  but  I 
think  it  is  highly  probable  that  that  was  the  case ;  or  at  least  that 
his  knowledge  of  it  was  very  slight.     Malone. 

A  question  having  arisen  concerning  the  pronunciation  of  the 
French  word  bras  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  it  was  observed  in  a 
former  note  that  some  remarks  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bowie,  in  another 
place,  had  contributed  at  least  to  leave  the  matter  open  to  discus- 
sion. That  gentleman  has  certainly  offered  some  evidence  from 
Pasquier,  that  in  the  middle  of  words  the  s  was  pronounced  where 
now  it  is  silent ;  but  on  the  other  hand  there  is  positive  proof 
that  the  contrary  practice  prevailed  in  1.572,  when  De  la  Ramee 
published  his  French  grammar.  At  page  19,  he  says:  "  Pre- 
mierement  nous  sommes  prodigues  en  lescripture  de  s,  sans  la 
prononcer  comme  en  maistre,  mesler,  oster,  soustenir."  This 
writer  has  expatiated  on  the  difficulty  which  foreigners  have  in 
pronouncing  the  French  language  on  account  of  its  orthography, 
and  offered  a  new  mode  by  which  it  may  be  avoided.  In  the 
course  of  this  specimen  he  has,  fortunately  for  the  present  occa- 
sion,  printed  the  word  bras  without  the  s,  (see  p.  61,)  and  thereby 
supplied  the  means  of  deciding  the  present  question,  which,  after 
all,  was  scarcely  worth  a  controversy.  Whoever  wrote  this  dia- 
logue was  unacquainted  with  the  true  pronunciation  of  the  French 
language,  as  Mr.  Malone  has  already  remarked,  and  framed 
Pistol's  reply  accordingly.  In  Eliot's  Orthoepia  Gallica,  1593, 
4to.  mentioned  in  Dr.  Farmer's  note,  there  is  a  passage  which 
seems  to  have  escaped  the  doctor's  notice.  In  page  61,  the  au- 
thor directs  the  sentence  "  vous  avez  un  bras  de  fer,"  to  be  pro- 
nounced "  voo-za-ve-zewn  bra  de  fer."     Douce. 

<s  — luxurious  mountain  goat,]  Luxurious  means  lascivious. 
So,  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  : 

"  She  knows  the  heat  of  a  luxurious  bed."     Steevens. 


430  KING  HENRY  V.  act if. 

Pist.   Say'st   thou   me  so  ?    is   that   a   ton  of 
moys  7  ? — 
Come  hither,  boy ;  Ask  me  this  slave  in  French, 
What  is  his  name. 

Boy.  Escoutez ;  Comment  estes  wus  appelle  ? 

Fr.  Sol.  Monsieur  le  Fer. 

Boy.  He  says  his  name  is — master  Fer. 

Pist.  Master  Fer !  I'll  fer  him,  and  firk  him  8, 
and  ferret  him : — discuss  the  same  in  French  unto 
him. 

Boy.  I  do  not  know  the  French  for  fer,  and  fer- 
ret, and  firk. 

I  —  a  ton  of  moys  ?]  Moy  is  apiece  of  money ;  whence  mot 
doW,  or  moi  of  gold.     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  says  that  "  moi  is  a  piece  of  money,  whence  moi 
d'or,  or  moi  of  gold."  But  where  had  the  doctor  made  this  dis- 
covery ?  His  etymology  of  moidor  js  certainly  incorrect.  Moidore 
is  an  English  corruption  of  the  Portuguese  moeda  d'ouro,  i.  e. 
money  of  gold  ;  but  there  were  no  moidores  in  the  time  of  Shak- 
speare. 

We  are  therefore  still  to  seek  for  Pistol's  moy.  Now  a  moyos 
or  moy  was  a  measure  of  corn  ;  in  French  muy  or  muid,  Lat. 
modius,  a  bushel.  It  appears  that  27  moys  were  equal  to  a  last 
or  two  tons.  To  understand  this  more  fully,  the  curious  reader 
may  consult  Malyne's  Lex  Mercatoria,  1622,  p.  45,  and  Roberts's 
Marchant's  Mappof  Commerce,  1638,  chap.  272.     Douce. 

8  — and  firk  him,]  The  word  firk  is  so  variously  used  by 
the  old  writers,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  ascertain  its  precise 
meaning.  On  this  occasion  it  may  mean  to  chastise.  So,  in  Ram- 
Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

" nay}  I  w\l\  firk 

"  My  silly  novice,  as  he  was  neverfirk'd 
'.*  Since  midwives  bound  his  noddle." 
In  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Rule  a  Wife,  &c.  it  means  to  collect 
by  low  and  dishonest  industry  : 

" these  five  years  she  hasfirk'd 

"  A  pretty  living." 
Again,  in  Ram-Alley,  &c.  it  seems  to  be  employed  in  the  sense 
of  quibble  : 

"  Sir,  leave  thisfirJc  of  law,  or  by  this  light,"  &c. 
In  The  Alchemist,  it  is  obscenely  used.     Steevens. 
In  Eliot's  Orthoepia  Gallica,  1693,Jbuettez  is  renderedfirk. 

Boswell. 


sc.  iv.  KING  HENRY  V.  431 

Pist.  Bid  him  prepare,  for  I  will  cut  his  throat. 

Fr.  Sol.  Que  dit-il,  monsieur  ? 

Boy.  II  me  commande  de  vous  dire  que  vousfaites 
nous  prest ;  car  ce  soldat  icy  est  dispose  tout  a,  cette 
keure  de  couper  vostre  gorge. 

Pist.  Ouy,  couper  gorge,  par  ma  foy,  pesant, 
Unless  thou  give  me  crowns,  brave  crowns  ; 
Or  mangled  shalt  thou  be  by  this  my  sword. 

Fr.  Sol.  0,je  vous  supplie  pour  C  amour  de  Dieu, 
me  pardonner !  Je  suis  gentilhomme  de  bonne  mai- 
son;  gardez  ma  vie,  et  je  vous  donneray  deux  cents 
escus. 

Pist.  What  are  his  words  ? 

Boy.  He  prays  you  to  save  his  life  :  he  is  a  gen- 
tleman 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? 

Boy.  Encore  qu'il  est  contre  son  jurement,  de 
pardonner  aucun  prisonnier ;  neantmoins,  pour  les 
escus  que  vous  Vavez  promis,  il  est  content  de  vous 
donner  la  UbertZ,  le franchisement . 

Fr.  Sol.  Sur  mes  genoux,  je  vous  donne  mille  re- 
merciemens :  et  je  mestime  heureux  que  je  suis 
tombe  entre  les  mains  d'tin  chevalier,  je  pense,  le 
plus  brave,  valiant,  et  tres  distingue  seigneur 
dAngleterre. 

Pist.  Expound  unto  me,  boy. 

Boy.  He  gives  you,  upon  his  knees,  a  thousand 
thanks  :  and  he  esteems  himself  happy  that  he  hath 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  (as  he  thinks)  the  most 
brave,  valorous,  and  thrice -worthy  signieur  of  Eng- 
land. 

Pist.  As  I  suck  blood,  I  will  some  mercy  show. — 
Follow  me,  cur.  {Exit  Pistol. 

Boy.  Suivez  vous  le  grand  capitaine. 

[Exit  French  Soldier. 


432  KING  HENRY  V.  act  lr. 

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 9,  that  every  one  may  pare  his  nails 
with  a  wooden  dagger  ;  and  they  are  both  hanged  ; 
and  so  would  this  be,  if  he  durst  steal  any  thing 

9  —  this  roaring  devil  i'  the  old  play,]  In  modern  puppet- 
shows,  which  seem  to  be  copied  from  the  old  farces,  Punch  some- 
times fights  the  devil,  and  always  overcomes  him.  I  suppose  the 
vice  of  the  old  farce,  to  whom  Punch  succeeds,  used  to  fight  the 
devil  with  a  wooden  dagger.     Johnson. 

In  the  old  moralities  the  devil  was  always  attacked  by  the  Vice, 
who  belaboured  him  with  his  lath,  and  sent  him  roaring  off  the 
stage.     So,  in  Twelfth-Night : 
"  In  a  trice, 

"  Like  to  the  old  vice, — 
"  Who,  with  dagger  of  lath, 
"  In  his  rage  and  his  wrath, 
"  Cries  ah  !  ha  !  to  the  devil." 
And  in  the  old  Taming  of  a  Shrew,  one  of  the  players  says, 
**  my  lord,  we  must  have — a  little  vinegar  to  make  our  devil 
roar." — 

The  reason  of  the  Vice's  endeavouring  to  entertain  the  audience, 
by  attempting  to  pare  the  devil's  nails,  has  been  already  assigned 
in  a  note  on  Twelfth-Night,  vol.  xi.  p.  479,  n.  1.     Malone. 

See  also  a  note  on  King  Richard  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  I.  and  Mr. 
Upton's  Dissertation  at  the  end  of  the  same  play.     Malone. 

The  devil,  in  the  old  mysteries,  is  as  turbulent  and  vain-glori- 
ous as  Pistol.     So,  in  one  of  the  Coventry  Whitsun  Plays,  pre- 
served in  the  British  Museum.      Vespasian.     D.  VIII.  p.  136 : 
"  I  am  your  lord  Lucifer  that  out  of  helle  cam, 
"  Prince  of  this  world,  and  gret  duke  of  helle ; 
"  Wherfore  my  name  is  clepyd  ser  Satan, 
"  Whech  aperyth  among  you  a  mater  to  spelle." 
And  perhaps  the  character  was  always  performed  in  the  most 
clamorous  manner. 

In  the  ancient  tragedy,  or  rather  morality,  called  All  for  Money, 
by  T.  Lupton,  1578,  Sin  says  : 

"  I  knew  I  would  make  him  soon  change  his  note, 
H  I  will   make  him  sing  the  Black  Sanctus,   I  hold  him  a 
groat.  \Here  Satan  shall  cry  and  roar." 

Again,  a  little  after : 

"  Here  he  roareth  and  crieth." 
See  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  vol.  v.  p.  370.     Stekvens. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  V.  433 

adventurously.  I  must  stay  with  the  lackeys,  with 
the  luggage  of  our  camp ;  the  French  might  have 
a  good  prey  of  us,  if  he  knew  of  it ;  for  there  is  none 
to  guard  it,  but  boys.  [Exit, 


SCENE  V. 

Another  Part  of  the  Field  of  Battle. 

Alarums.     Enter  Dauphin,  Orleans,  Bourbon, 
Constable,  Rambures,  and  Others. 

Con.  Odiable? 

Orl.  0  seigneur ! — le  jour  est  perdu,  tout  est 
perdu! 

1)au.  Mort  de  ma  vie!  all  is  confounded,  all! 
Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 
Sits  mocking   in  our  plumes. — 0  meschante  for- 
tune ! — 
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! 
Let  us  die  in  fight :  Once  more  back  again Q ; 

1  O  perdurable  shame  !]  Perdurable  islasting,  long  to  con- 
tinue.    So,  in  Daniel's  Civil  Wars,  &c. : 

"Triumphant  arcs  of  perdurable  might."     Steevens. 

a  Let  us  die  instant  :  Once  more  back  again  ;]  This  verse, 
which  is  quite  left  out  in  Mr.  Pope's  editions,  stands  imperfect 
in  the  first  folio.  By  the  addition  of  a  syllable,  I  think,  I  have 
retrieved  the  poet's  sense.     It  is  thus  in  the  old  copy : 

"  Let  us  diem  once  more  back  again."     Theobald. 

"  Let  us  die  in  fight."  For  the  insertion  of  the  word  fight, 
which  (as  I  observed  in  my  Second  Appendix,  8vo.  1783,)  ap- 
pears to  have  been  omitted  by  the  negligence  of  the  transcriber 
or  compositor,  I  am  answerable.     So  Bourbon  says  afterwards  : 

VOL.  XVII.  2  F 


434  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

And  he  that  will  not  follow  Bourbon  now, 
Let  him  go  hence,  and,  with  his  cap  in  hand, 
Like  a  base  pander a,  hold  the  chamber-door, 
Whilst  by  a  slave,  no  gentler 4  than  my  dog, 
His  fairest  daughter  is  contaminate 5. 

Con.  Disorder,  that  hath  spoil'd  us,   friend  us 
now! 


"  I'll  to  the  throng  ;  Let  life  be  short." 
Macbeth  utters  the  same  sentiment : 

"  At  least  we'll  die  with  harness  on  our  backs." 
Mr.  Theobald  corrected  the  text  by  reading  instant  instead  of 
in :  but  (as  I  have  already  remarked)  it  is  highly  improbable 
that  a  printer  should  omit  half  a  word  ;  nor  indeed  does  the 
word  instant  suit  the  context.  Bourbon  probably  did  not  wish  to 
die  more  than  other  men  ;  but  if  we  are  conquered,  (says  he)  if 
we  are  to  die,  let  us  bravely  die  in  combat  with  our  Joes,  and 
make  their  victory  as  dear  to  them  as  we  can. 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  who  always  cuts  a  knot  instead 
of  untying  it,  substituted  Jly  for  die,  and  absurdly  reads — Let  us 
Jly  in ;  leaving  the  metre,  which  was  destroyed  by  the  omission 
of  a  word,  still  imperfect,  and  ^.t  the  same  time  rendering  the 
passage  nonsense.     The  lines  stand  thus  in  the  quarto,  1600: 
"  Con.  We  are  enough  yet  living  in  the  field 
"  To  smother  up  the  English, 
'*  If  any  order  might  be  thought  upon. 

"  Bour.  A  plague  of  order  !  once  more  to  the  field  : 
"  And  he  that  will  not  follow,"  &c.     Malone. 
I  have  not  adopted  Mr.  Malone's  emendation,  because,  when  I 
read  it,  I  cannot  suppose  myself  to  be  reading  the  beginning  of  a 
verse. 

Instant  may  be  an  adjective  used  adverbially.     In  the  course 
of  this  publication  my  compositors  will  not  deny  their  occasional 
omission  of  several  half  words.     Steevens. 
3  Like  a  base  pander,]     The  quartos  read  : 
**  Like  a  base  leno."     Steevens. 

*  —  no  gentler  — ]     Who  has  no  more  gentility. 

Malone. 

*  — is  contaminate.]  The  quarto  has — contamuracke,  which 
corrupted  word,  however,  is  sufficient  to  lead  us  to  the  true 
reading  now  inserted  in  the  text :  It  is  also  supported  by  the 
metre  and  the  usage  of  our  author  and  his  contemporaries.  We 
have  had  in  this  play  "hearts  create"  for  hearts  created:  so, 
elsewhere,  combinate,  for  combirid  ;  consummate,  for  consummated, 
&c.     The  folio  reads — contaminated.     Malone. 


sc.  vi.  KING  HENRY  V.      .  435 

Let  us,  in  heaps,  go  offer  up  our  lives 
Unto  these  English,  or  else  die  with  fame 6. 

Orl.  We  are  enough,  yet  living  in  the  field, 
To  smother  up  the  English  in  our  throngs, 
If  any  order  might  be  thought  upon. 

Bour.  The  devil  take  order  now !    I'll  to  the 
throng ; 
Let  life  be  short ;  else,  shame  will  be  too  long. 

[Exeunt, 

SCENE  VI. 

Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Alarums.     Enter  King  Henry  and  Forces  ;  Exe* 
ter,  and  Others. 

K.  Hen.    Well   have   we   done,   thrice-valiant 
countrymen : 
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 7 :  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, 

6  Unto  these  English,  or  else  die  with  fame,]  This  line  I 
have  restored  from  the  quartos,  1600  and  1608.  The  Constable 
of  France  is  throughout  the  play  represented  as  a  brave  and  gene- 
rous enemy,  and  therefore  we  should  not  deprive  him  of  a  resolu- 
tion which  agrees  so  well  with  his  character.     Steevens. 

7  Larding  the  plain  :]     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I. : 

"  And  lards  the  lean  earth  as  he  walks  along." 

Steevens. 

2  f  2 


436  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

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, — Tarry,  dear  cousin  Suffolk ! 

My  soul  shall  thine  keep  company  to  heaven : 

Tarry,  szveet  soul,  for  mine,  then  fly  a-breast ; 

As,  in  this  glorious  and  well-foughten  field, 

We  kept  together  in  our  chivalry ! 

Upon  these  words  I  came,  and  cheer'd  him  up : 

He  smil'd  me  in  the  face,  raught 8  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,  espous'd  to  death,  with  blood  he  seal'd 

A  testament  of  noble-ending  love  9. 

The  pretty  and  sweet  manner  of  it  forc'd 

Those  waters  from  me,  which  I  would  have  stopp'd ; 

But  I  had  not  so  much  of  man  in  me, 

But  all  my  mother  came  into  mine  eyes, 

And  gave  me  up  to  tears l. 


8  — raught — ]     i.  e.  reached.     See  vol.  iv.  p.  355,  n.  1. 

Steevens. 

9  A  testament  of  NOBLE-ending  love.]     So  the  folio.     The 
quarto  reads  : 

"  An  argument  of  never-ending  love."     Malone. 
1  But  all  my  mother  came  into  mine  eyes, 
And  gave  me  up  to  tears.]     Thus   the  quarto.     The  folio 
reads — And  all,  &c.     But  has  here  the  force  of — But  that. 

Malone. 
This  thought  is  apparently  copied  by  Milton,  Paradise  Lost, 
book  ix. : 

" compassion  quell'd 

"  His  best  of  man,  and  gave  him  up  to  tears." 

Steevens. 
Dryden  also,  in  All  for  Love,  Act  I.  has  the  same  expression  : 
"  Look,  Emperor,  this  is  no  common  dew, 
"  I  have  not  wept  this  forty  years  ;  but  now 
u  My  mother  comes  afresh  into  my  eyes  ; 
"  I  cannot  help  her  softness."     Reed. 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  437 

K.  Hex.  I  blame  you  not ; 

For,  hearing  this,  I  must  perforce  compound 
With  wistful  eyes  \  or  they  will  issue  too.— 

[Alarum. 
But,  hark  !  what  new  alarum  is  this  same  3  ? — 
The  French  have  reinforc'd  their  scatter'd  men  : — 
Then  every  soldier  kill  his  prisoners  ; 
Give  the  word  through4.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  VII  \ 

Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Alarums.     Enter  Fluellen  and  Gojver. 

Flu.  Kill  the  poys  and  the  luggage6!  'tis  ex- 
pressly against  the  law  of  arms :  'tis  as  arrant  a 

2  With  mistful  eyes,]  The  folio— mixtful.  The  passage  is 
not  in  the  quarto.     Malone. 

The  poet  must  have  wrote — mistful :  i.  e.  just  ready  to  over- 
run with  tears.  The  word  he  took  from  his  observation  of 
nature  :  for,  just  before  the  bursting  out  of  tears,  the  eyes  grow 
dim,  as  if  in  a  mist.     Warburton. 

3  —  what  new  alarum  is  this  same  ?]  The  alarum  on  which 
Henry  ordered  the  prisoners  to  be  slain,  was  sounded  by  the 
affrighted  runaways  from  his  own  camp,  who  brought  intelligence 
that  the  French  had  got  behind  him,  and  had  pillaged  it.  See 
a  subsequent  note.  Not  knowing  the  extent  of  his  danger,  he 
gave  the  order  here  mentioned,  that  every  soldier  should  kill  his 
prisoners. 

After  Henry  speaks  these  words,  "  what  new  alarum  is  this 
same?"  Shakspeare  probably  intended  that  a  messenger  should 
enter,  and  secretly  communicate  this  intelligence  to  him;  though 
by  some  negligence  no  such  marginal  direction  appears. 

Malone. 

4  Give  the  word  through.]  Here  the  quartos  1600  and  1608 
ridiculously  add  : 

"  Pist.  Couper  gorge."     Steevens. 

5  Scene  VII.]  Here,  in  the  other  editions,  they  begin  the 
fourth  Act,  very  absurdly,  since  both  the  place  and  time  evidently 
continue,  and  the  words  of  Fluellen  immediately  follow  those  of 
the  King  just  before.     Pope. 

6  Kill  the  poys  and  the  luggage !]     The  baggage,  during  the 


438  KING  HENRY  V.  act  if. 

piece  of  knavery,  mark  you  now,  as  can  be  offered, 
in  the  'orld :  In  your  conscience  now,  is  it  not  ? 

Gow.  'Tis  certain,  there's  not  a  boy  left  alive  ; 
and  the  cowardly  rascals,  that  ran  from  the  battle, 
have  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,  'tis  a 
gallant  king ! 

Flu.  Ay,  he  was  porn  at  Monmouth,  captain 
Gower:  What  call  you  the  town's  name,  where 
Alexander  the  pig  was  born  ? 

Gorv.  Alexander  0ie  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  Mace- 
don,  as  I  take  it. 

battle,  (as  King  Henry  had  no  men  to  spare,)  was  guarded  only 
by  boys  and  lackeys ;  which  some  French  runaways  getting 
notice  of,  they  came  down  upon  the  English  camp-boys,  whom 
they  killed,  and  plundered,  and  burned  the  baggage  :  in  resent- 
ment of  which  villainy  it  was,  that  the  King,  contrary  to  his 
wonted  lenity,  ordered  all  prisoners'  throats  to  be  cut.  And  to 
this  villainy  of  the  French  runaways  Fluellen  is  alluding,  when 
he  says,  "  Kill  the  poys  and  the  luggage !  "  The  fact  is  set 
out  both  by  Hall  and  Holinshed.     Theobald. 

Unhappily  the  King  gives  one  reason  for  his  order  to  kill  the 
prisoners,  and  Gower  another.  The  King  killed  his  prisoners 
because  he  expected  another  battle,  and  he  had  not  men  sufficient 
to  guard  one  army  and  fight  another.  Gower  declares  that  the 
gallant  king  has  worthily  ordered  the  prisoners  to  be  destroyed, 
because  the  luggage  was  plundered,  and  the  boys  were  slain. 

Johnson. 

Our  author  has  here,  as  in  all  his  historical  plays,  followed 
Holinshed  ;  in  whose  Chronicle  both  these  reasons  are  assigned 
for  Henry's  conduct.  Shakspeare  therefore  has  not  departed 
from  history  ;  though  he  has  chosen  to  make  Henry  himself 
mention  one  of  the  reasons  which  actuated  him,  and  Gower 
mention  the  other.     See  p.  440,  n.  2.     Malone, 


sc.  yjj.  KING  HENRY  V.  439 

Flu.  I  think,  it  is  in  Macedon,  where  Alexander 
is  porn.  I  tell  you,  captain, — If  you  look  in  the 
maps  of  the  'orld,  I  warrant,  you  shall  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  Mon- 
mouth ;  but  it  is  out  of  my  prains,  what  is  the  name 
of  the  other  river;  but  'tis  all  one,  'tis  so  like  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  pest  friend,  Clytus. 

Gotv.  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 
tales  out  of  my  mouth,  ere  it  is  made  an  end  and 
finished.  I  speak  but  in  the  figures  and  compari- 
sons of  it :  As  Alexander 7  is  kill  his  friend  Clytus, 
being  in  his  ales  and  his  cups ;  so  also  Harry  Mon- 
mouth, being  in  his  right  wits  and  his  goot  judg- 
ments, is  turn  away  the  fat  knight 6  with  the  great 

7  — As  Alexander — ]  I  should  suspect  that  Shakspeare,  who 
was  well  read  in  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation  of  Plutarch, 
meant  these  speeches  of  Fluellen  as  a  ridicule  on  the  parallels  of 
the  Greek  author;  in  which,  circumstances  common  to  all  men 
are  assembled  in  opposition,  and  one  great  action  is  forced  into 
comparison  with  another,  though  as  totally  different  in  them- 
selves, as  was  the  behaviour  of  Harry  Monmouth,  from  that  of 
Alexander  the  Great.     Steevens. 

8  — the  fat  knight — ]  This  is  the  last  time  that  Falstaff  can 
make  sport.  The  poet  was  loath  to  part  with  him,  and  has  con- 
tinued his  memory  as  long  as  he  could.     Johnson. 


440  KING  HENRY  V.  act  if. 

pelly- doublet :  he  was  full  of  jests,  and  gipes,  and 
knaveries,  and  mocks ;  I  am  forget  his  name, 

Gorr.  Sir  John  Falstaff. 

Flu.  That  is  he :  I  can  tell  you,  there  is  goot 
men  born  at  Monmouth. 

Gorr.  Here  comes  his  majesty. 

Alarum.  Enter  King  Henry,  with  a  Part  of  the 
English  Forces  ;  Warwick* s  Gloster,  Exeter, 
and  Others. 

K.  Hen.  I  was  not  angry  since  I  came  to  France 
Until  this  instant.— Take  a  trumpet,  herald ; 
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 l,  as  swift  as  stones 
Enforced  from  the  old  Assyrian  slings : 
Besides,  we'll  cut  the  throats  of  those  we  have a ; 

9  Warwick,]  Richard  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick.  He 
did  not,  however,  obtain  that  title  till  1417,  two  years  after  the 
era  of  this  play.     Malone. 

1  And  make  them  skirr  away,]  I  meet  with  this  in  Ben 
Jonson's  News  from  the  Moon,  a  masque  :  "  — blow  him  afore 
him  as  far  as  he  can  see  him  ;  or  skir  over  him  with  his  bat's 
wings,"  &c.  Again,  in  Arthur  Hall's  translation  of  the  4th  Iliad, 
4to.  1581  : 

"  It  thee  becomes  with  piersing  girde  to  cause  thy  arrow 

skirre 
".  To  wound  the  sturdie  Menelau — ." 

The  word  has  already  occurred  in  Macbeth.  See  vol.  xi.  p.  254, 
n.  9.     Steevens. 

%  Besides,  we'll  cut  the  throats,  &c]  The  King  is  in  a  very 
bloody  disposition.  He  has  already  cut  the  throats  of  his  pri- 
soners, and  threatens  now  to  cut  them  again.  No  haste  of  com- 
position could  produce  such  negligence  ;  neither  was  this  play, 
which  is  the  second  draught  of  the  same  design,  written  in  haste. 
There  must  be  some  dislocation  of  the  scenes.  If  we  place  these 
lines  at  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  scene,  the  absurdity  will  be 
removed,  and  the  action  will  proceed  in  a  regular  series.     This 


sc.  vii.  KING  HENRY  V.  441 

And  not  a  man  of  them  that  we  shall  take, 
Shall  taste  our  mercy  : — Go,  and  tell  them  so. 

transposition  might  easily  happen  in  copies  written  for  the  players. 
Yet  it  must  not  be  concealed,  that  in  the  imperfect  play  of  1608 
the  order  of  the  scenes  is  the  same  as  here.     Johnson. 

The  difference  of  the  two  copies  may  be  thus  accounted  for. 
The  elder  was,  perhaps,  taken  down,  during  the  representation, 
by  the  contrivance  of  some  bookseller,  who  was  in  haste  to  pub- 
lish it  ;  or  it  might,  with  equal  probability,  have  been  collected 
from  the  repetitions  of  actors  invited  to  a  tavern  for  that  purpose. 
The  manner  in  which  many  of  the  scenes  are  printed,  adds  strength 
to  the  supposition ;  for  in  these  a  single  line  is  generally  divided 
into  two,  that  the  quantity  of  the  play  might  be  seemingly  in- 
creased. The  second  and  more  ample  edition  (in  the  folio  1623) 
may  be  that  which  regularly  belonged  to  the  playhouse ;  and  yet 
with  equal  confidence  we  may  pronounce,  that  every  dramatick 
composition  would  materially  suffer,  if  only  transmitted  to  the 
public  through  the  medium  of  ignorance,  presumption,  and  ca- 
price, those  common  attendants  on  a  theatre.     Steevens. 

Johnson's  long  note  on  this  passage  is  owing  to  his  inattention. 
The  prisoners  whom  the  King  had  already  put  to  death,  were  those 
which  were  taken  in  the  first  action  ;  and  those  whom  he  had  now 
in  his  power,  and  threatens  to  destroy,  are  the  prisoners  that  were 
taken  in  the  subsequent  desperate  charge  made  by  Bourbon,  Or- 
leans, &c.  And  accordingly  we  find,  in  the  next  scene  but  one, 
an  account  of  those  prisoners,  amounting  to  upwards  of  1500,  with 
Bourbon  and  Orleans  at  the  head  of  the  list.  It  was  this  second 
attack  that  compelled  the  King  to  kill  the  prisoners  whom  he  had 
taken  in  the  first.     M.  Mason. 

The  order  of  the  scenes  is  the  same  (as  Dr.  Johnson  owns)  in 
the  quarto  and  the  folio  ;  and  the  supposition  of  a  second  draught 
is,  I  am  persuaded,  a  mistake,  originating  from  Mr.  Pope,  whose 
researches  on  these  subjects  were  by  no  means  profound.  The 
quarto  copy  of  this  play  is  manifestly  an  imperfect  transcript  pro- 
cured by  some  fraud,  and  not  a  first  draught  or  hasty  sketch  of 
Shakspeare's.  The  choruses,  which  are  wanting  in  it,  and  which 
must  have  been  written  in  1599,  before  the  quarto  was  printed, 
prove  this.  Yet  Mr.  Pope  asserts,  that  these  choruses,  and  all 
the  other  passages  not  found  in  the  quarto,  were  added  by  the  au- 
thor after  the  year  1600 : 

With  respect  however  to  the  incongruity  objected  to,  if  it  be 
one,  Holinshed,  and  not  our  poet,  is  answerable  for  it ;  for  thus 
the  matter  is  stated  by  him.  While  the  battle  was  yet  going  on, 
about  six  hundred  French  horsemen,  who  were  the  first  that  had 
fled,  hearing  that  the  English  tents  were  a  good  way  distant  from 
the  army,  without  a  sufficient  guard,  entered  and  pillaged  the 


442  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 


Enter  Montjoy. 

Exe.  Here  comes  the  herald  of  the  French,  my 
liege. 

Icing's  camp.  "  When  the  outcry  of  the  lacMes  and  boys,  which 
ran  away  for foar  of  the  Frenchmen,  thus  spoiling  the  camp,  came 
to  the  king's  ears,  he,  doubting  lest  his  enemies  should  gather  to- 
gether again  and  begin  a  new  fielde,  and  mistrusting  further  that 
the  prisoners  would  either  be  an  aide  to  his  enemies,  or  very  ene- 
mies to  their  takers  indeed,  if  they  were  suffered  to  live,  contrary 
to  his  accustomed  gentleness,  commanded  by  sounde  of  trumpet, 
that  every  man  upon  pain  of  death  should  incontinently  slea  his 
prisoner." — Here  then  we  have  the  first  transaction  relative  to  the 
killing  of  the  prisoners,  in  consequence  of  the  spoiling  of  the 
camp,  to  which  Fluellen  alludes  in  the  beginning  of  this  scene, 
when  he  complains  of  the  French  having  killed  the  "  poys  and  the 
luggage  :  "  and  we  see,  the  order  for  killing  the  prisoners  arose 
partly  from  that  outrage,  and  partly  from  Henry's  apprehension 
that  his  enemies  might  renew  the  battle,  and  that  his  forces 
"  were  not  sufficient  to  guard  one  army,  and  fight  another." 

What  follows  will  serve  to  explain  the  King's  threat  in  the 
speech  now  before  us,  at  least  will  show  that  it  is  not  out  of  its 
place.  "  When  (proceeds  the  Chronicler,)  this  lamentable 
slaughter  [of  the  prisoners]  was  ended,  the  Englishmen  disposed 
themselves  in  order  of  battayle,  ready  to  abide  a  new  fielde,  and 
also  to  invade  and  newly  set  on  their  enemies. — Some  write,  that 
the  King  perceiving  his  enemies  in  one  parte  to  assemble  together, 
as  though  they  meant  to  give  a  new  battaile  for  preservation  of 
the  prisoners,  sent  to  them  a  herault,  commaunding  them  either  to 
depart  out  of  his  sight,  or  else  to  come  forward  at  once,  and  give 
battaile;  promising  herewith,  that  '  if  they  did  offer  to  fight  agayne, 
not  only  those  prisoners  "which  his  people  already  had  taken,  but 
also  so  many  of  them  as  in  this  new  confide,  "which  they  thus  at- 
tempted, should  foil  into  his  hands,  should  die  the  death  "without  re- 
demption.' " 

The  fact  was,  that  notwithstanding  the  first  order  concerning 
the  prisoners,  they  were  not  all  put  to  death,  as  appears  from  a 
subsequent  passage,  (which  ascertains  what  our  author's  concep- 
tion was,)  and  from  the  most  authentick  accounts  of  the  battle  of 
Agincourt.  "  When  the  King  sat  at  his  refection,  he  was  served 
at  his  boorde  of  those  great  lords  and  princes  that  were  taken  in 
the  field."  According  to  Fabian,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  who  was 
among  the  captives,  on  hearing  the  proclamation  for  putting  the 
prisoners  to  death,  was  so  alarmed,  that  he  immediately  sent  a 
message  to  the  newly  assembled  French  troops,  who  thereupon 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  443 

Glo.  His  eyes  are  humbler  than  they  us'd  to  be. 

K.  Hen.  How  now!  what  means  this,  herald? 
know'st  thou  not, 
That  I  have  fin'd  these  bones  of  mine  for  ransom  ? 
Com'st  thou  again  for  ransom  ? 

Mont.  No,  great  king ; 

I  come  to  thee  for  charitable  licence, 
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 ; 
(So  do  our  vulgar  drench  their  peasant  limbs 
In  blood  of  princes ;)  and  their  wounded  steeds  a 

dispersed.  Hardyng,  who  was  himself  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt, 
says,  the  prisoners  were  put  to  death,  "  save  dukes  and  earles." 
Speed,  on  the  authority  of  Monstrelet,  says,  •*  King  Henry,  con- 
trary to  his  wonted  generous  nature,  gave  present  commandment 
that  every  man  should  kill  his  prisoner,  which  was  immediately 
performed,  certain  principal  men  excepted;"  who,  as  another 
Chronicler  tells  us,  were  tied  back  to  back,  and  left  un- 
guarded. With  this  account  corresponds  that  of  Stowe  ;  who 
tells  us,  that  "  on  that  night,  when  the  King  sat  at  his  re- 
fection, he  was  served  at  his  boorde  of  those  great  lords  and 
princes  that  were  taken  in  thejielde."  So  also  Polydore  Virgil : 
"  Postquam  honam  partem  captivorum  occiderunt,"  &c.  And 
lastly  Mr.  Hume,  on  the  authority  of  various  ancient  historians, 
says  that  Henry,  on  discovering  that  his  danger  was  not  so  great 
as  he  at  first  apprehended  from  the  attack  on  his  camp,  "  stopped 
the  slaughter,  and  was  still  able  to  save  a  great  number."' 

But  though  this  fact  were  not  established  by  the  testimony  of 
so  many  historians,  and  though  every  one  of  the  prisoners  had 
been  put  to  death,  according  to  the  original  order,  it  was  certainly 
policy  in  Henry  to  conceal  that  circumstance,  and  to  threaten  to 
kill  them,  as  if  they  were  living;  for  the  motive  that  induced  the 
French  to  rally  was,  (we  are  told,)  to  save  these  prisoners  ;  and  if 
they  had  been  informed  that  they  were  already  executed,  they 
might  have  been  rendered  desperate  ;  at  least  would  have  had  less 
inducement  to  lay  down  their  arms.  This  however  is  a  disquisition 
which  is  not  necessary  to  our  author's  vindication.  He  followed 
the  Chroniclejust  as  he  found  it.     Malone. 

3  — and  their  wounded  steeds — ]  The  old  copy  reads — 
*•  And  with   their,"   &c.   the  compositor's  eye  having  probably 


444  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

Fret  fetlock  deep  in  gore,  and,  with  wild  rage, 
Yerk  out  their  armed  heels  4  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. 

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  Agin- 
court, 
Fought  on  the  day  of  Crispin  Crispianus. 

Flu.  Your  grandfather  of  famous  memory,  an't 
please  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. 

Flu.  Your  majesty  says  very  true :  If  your  ma- 
jesties is  remembered  of  it,  the  Welshmen  did  goot 
service  in  a  garden  where  leeks  did  grow,  wearing 
leeks  in  their  Monmouth  caps b ;  which,  your  ma- 


glanced  on  the  line  beneath.  Mr.  Pope  unnecessarily  rejected 
both  words,  reading — "  while  their  wounded  steeds,"  in  which  he 
was  followed  by  the  subsequent  editors.     Malone. 

4  Yerk  out  their  armed  heels  — ]  So,  in  The  Weakest  goeth 
to  the  Wall,  1600: 

"  Their  neighing  gennets,  armed  to  the  field, 
"  Do  yerk  and  fling,  and  beat  the  sullen  ground." 

Steevens. 

5  —  Monmouth  caps  ;]  Monmouth  caps  were  formerly  much 
worn.  From  the  following  stanza  in  an  old  ballad  of  The  Caps, 
printed  in  The  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  1661,  p.  31,  }t  ap- 
pears they  were  particularly  worn  by  soldiers  : 


sc.  vn.  KING  HENRY  V.  445 

jesty  knows,  to  this  hour  is  an  honourable  padge  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 : 
For  I  am  Welsh,  you  know,  good  countryman. 

Flu.  All  the  water  in  Wye  cannot  wash  your 
majesty's  Welsh  plood  out  of  your  pody,  I  can  tell 
you  that :  Got  pless  it  and  preserve  it  as  long  as  it 
pleases  his  grace,  and  his  majesty  too  ! 

K.  Hen.  Thanks,  good  my  countryman. 

Flu.  By  Cheshu,  I  am  your  majesty's  country- 
man, 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 
On  both  our  parts. — Call  yonder  fellow  hither. 

[Points  to  Williams.     Exeunt  Montjoy 
and  Others. 

Exe.  Soldier,  you  must  come  to  the  king. 

K.  Hen.  Soldier,  why  wear'st  thou  that  glove  in 
thy  cap  ? 

Will.  An't  please  your  majesty,  'tis  the  gage  of 
one  that  I  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  'a  live,  and 

"  The  soldiers  that  the  Monmouth  wear, 

"  On  castle's  tops  their  ensigns  rear. 

"  The  seaman  with  the  thrumb  doth  stand 

"  On  higher  parts  than  all  the  land."  Reed. 
'*  The  best  caps,  (says  Fuller,  in  his  Worthies  of  Wales,  p.  50,) 
were  formerly  made  at  Monmouth,  where  the  Capper's  chapel 
doth  still  remain. — If  (he  adds)  at  this  day  [1660]  the  phrase  of 
"  wearing  a  Monmouth  cap  "  be  taken  in  a  bad  acception,  I  hope  ' 
the  inhabitants  of  that  town  will  endeavour  to  disprove  the  occa- 
sion thereof."     Malone. 


446  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

ever  dare  to  challenge  this  glove,  I  have  sworn  to 
take  him  a  box  o'  the  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  ? 

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 6,  quite  from  the  answer  of  his  degree7. 

Flu.  Though  he  be  as  goot  a  gentleman  as  the 
tevil  is,  as  Lucifer  and  Belzebub  himself,  it  is  ne- 
cessary, look  your  grace,  that  he  keep  his  vow  and 
his  oath :  if  he  be  perjured,  see  you  now,  his  repu- 
tation is  as  arrant  a  villain,  and  a  Jack-sauce 3,  as 
ever  his  plack  shoe  trod  upon  Got's  ground  and  his 
earth,  in  my  conscience,  la. 

K.  Hen.  Then  keep  thy  vow,  sirrah,  when  thou 
meet'st  the  fellow. 

Will.  So  I  will,  my  liege,  as  I  live. 

K.  Hen.  Who  servest  thou  under  ? 

TV  ill.  Under  captain  Gower,  my  liege. 

Flu.  Gower  is  a  goot  captain ;  and  is  good  know- 
ledge and  literature  in  the  wars. 

K.  Hen.  Call  him  hither  to  me,  soldier. 

Will.  I  will,  my  liege.  \Exit. 

K.  Hen.  Here,  Fluellen  ;  wear  thou  this  favour 
for  me,  and  stick  it  in  thy  cap  :  When  Aleneon  and 


6  —  great  sort,]     High  rank.     So,  in  the  ballad  of  Jane  Shore  : 

"  Lords  and  ladies  of  great  sort."     Johnson. 

The  quartos,  1600  and  1608,  read — ,f  his  enemy  may  be  a  gen- 
tleman of  worth."     Steevens. 

Seep.  281,  n.  3.  The  same  phrase  occurs  afterwards  in  the 
next  scene.     Bos  well. 

7  —  quite  from  the  answer  of  his  degree.]  A  man  of  such  sta- 
tion as  is  not  bound  to  hazard  his  person  to  answer  to  a  challenge 
from  one  of  the  soldier's  low  degree.     Johnson. 

8  —  Jack-sauce,]     i.  e.  saucy  Jack.     Malone. 


sc.  rn.  KING  HENRY  V.  447 

myself  were  down  together9, 1  plucked  this  glove 
from  his  helm  :  if  any  man  challenge  this,  he  is  a 
friend  to  Alencon  and  an  enemy  to  our  person ; 
if  thou  encounter  any  such,  apprehend  him,  an  thou 
dost  love  me. 

Flu.  Your  grace  does  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 ;  and  please  Got  of  his 
grace,  that  I  might  see  it. 

K.  Hen.  Knowest  thou  Gower? 

Flu.  He  is  my  dear  friend,  and  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 
Gloster, 
Follow  Fluellen  closely  at  the  heels: 
The  glove,  which  I  have  given  him  for  a  favour, 
May,  haply,  purchase  him  a  box  o'  the  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,  touch'd  with  choler,  hot  as  gunpowder, 
And  quickly  will  return  an  injury  : 
Follow,  and  see  there  be  no  harm  between  them.— 
Go  you  with  me,  uncle  of  Exeter.  [Exeunt. 


9  —  When  Alencon  and  myself  were  down  together,]  This 
circumstance  is  not  an  invention  of  Shakspeare's.  Henry  was 
felled  to  the  ground  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  by  the  Duke  of 
Alencon,  but  recovered  and  slew  two  of  the  Duke's  attendants. 
Afterwards  Alencon  was  killed  by  the  King's  guard,  contrary 
to  Henry's  intention,  who  wished  to  have  saved  him.     Malone. 


448  KING  HENRY  V.  act  iv. 

SCENE  VIIL 

Before  King  Henry's  Pavilion. 

Enter  Gower  and  Williams. 
Will.  I  warrant  it  is  to  knight  you,  captain. 

Enter  Fluellen. 

Flu.  Got's  will  and  his  pleasure,  captain,  I  pe- 
seech  you  now,  come  apace  to  the  king :  there  is 
more  goot  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.  'Sblud,  an  arrant  traitor,  as'  any's  in  the 
universal  'orld,  or  in  France,  or  in  England. 

Gow.  How  now,  sir  ?  you  villain ! 

Will.  Do  you  think  111  be  forsworn  ? 

Flu.  Stand  away,  captain  Gower;  I  will  give 
treason  his  payment  into  plows *,  I  warrant  you. 

Will.  I  am  no  traitor. 

Flu.  That's  a  lie  in  thy  throat.— I  charge  you  in 

1  —  into  plows,]  Mr.  Heath  very  plausibly  reads — "  in  hvo 
plows."     Johnson. 

The  quarto  reads — "  I  will  give  treason  his  due  presently."  We 
might  therefore  read — in  due  plows,  i.  e.  in  the  beating  that  is  so 
well  his  due. 

Fuller,  in  his  Church  History,  p.  139,  speaks  of  the  task-mas- 
ters of  Israel,  "on  whose  back  the  number  of  bricks  Wanting 
were  only  scored  in  blows."     Steevens. 

The  Scotch,  both  in  speaking  and  in  writing,  frequently  use 
into  for  in.  However,  if  it  should  be  thought  necessary  to  amend 
the  text,  the  readiest  way  would  be  to  omit  a  syllable,  and  read — 
in  plows.     Ritson. 


sc.  vm.  KING  HENRY  V.  449 

his  majesty's  name,  apprehend  him ;  he's  a  friend 
of  the  duke  Alencon 's. 

Enter  Warwick  and  Gloster. 

War.  How  now,  how  now !  what's  the  matter  ? 

Flu.  My  lord  of  Warwick,  here  is  (praised  be 
Got  for  it!)  a  most  contagious  treason  come  to 
light,  look  you,  as  you  shall  desire  in  a  summer's 
day.     Here  is  his  majesty. 

Enter  King  Henry  and  Exeter. 

K.  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  Alencon. 

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. 

Flu.  Your  majesty  hear  now,  (saving  your  ma- 
jesty's manhood,)  what  an  arrant,  rascally,  beggarly, 
lowsy  knave  it  is :  I  hope,  your  majesty  is  pear  me 
testimony,  and  witness,  and  avouchments,  that  this 
is  the  glove  of  Alencon,  that  your  majesty  is  give 
me,  in  your  conscience  now. 

K.  Hen.  Give  me  thy  glove 2,  soldier ;  Look,  here 

6  Give  me  thy  glove,)  It  must  be — "  Give  me  my  glove ;  for 
of  the  soldier's  glove  the  King  had  not  the  fellow.     Johnson. 

"  Give  me  my  glove,"  cannot  be  right,  for  the  King  had  not 
yet  acknowledged  the  glove  to  be  his.     M.  Mason. 

The  text  is  certainly  right.  By  "  thy  glove,"  the  King  means 
— the  glove  that  thou  hast  now  in  thy  cap ;  i.  e.  Henry's  glove, 
which  he  had  given  to  Williams,  (see  Act  IV.  Sc.  I.)  and  of  which 
he  had  retained  the  fellow, 

So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  I.  Sc.  III.  the  Nurse  says  to 
Juliet : 

VOL.  XVII.  2    G 


450  KING  HENRY  V.  act  if. 

is  the  fellow  of  it.     'Twas  I,  indeed,  thou  promised'st 
to  strike ;  and  thou  hast  given  me  most  bitter  terms. 

Flu.  An  please  your  majesty,  let  his  neck  an- 
swer for  it,  if  there  is  any  martial  law  in  the  'orld. 

K.  Hen.  How  canst  thou  make  me  satisfaction  ? 

Will.  All  offences,  my  liege,  come  from  the 
heart :  never  came  any  from  mine,  that  might  of- 
fend your  majesty. 

K.  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  garments,  your  lowliness;  and  what 
your  highness  suffered  under  that  shape,  I  beseech 
you,  take  it  for  your  own  fault,  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 ; 
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  pelly : — Hold,  there  is  twelve 
pence  for  you,  and  I  pray  you  to  serve  Got,  and 
keep  you  out  of  prawls,  and  prabbles,  and  quarrels, 
and  dissensions,  and,  I  warrant  you,  it  is  the  petter 
for  you. 

Will.  I  will  none  of  your  money. 

Flu.  It  is  with  a  goot  will;  I  can  tell  you,  it 
will  serve  you  to  mend  your  shoes :  Come,  where- 
fore should  you  be  so  pashful  ?  your  shoes  is  not  so 

"  -         were  I  not  thine  only  nurse, 
*'  I'd  say,  thou  had'st  suck'd  wisdom  from  thy  teat." 
i.  e.  the  nurse's  teat.     Malone. 


sc.  Fin.  KING  HENRY  V.  451 

goot 3 :  'tis  a  goot  silling,  I  warrant  you,  or  I  will 
change  it. 

Enter  an  English  Herald. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  herald ;  are  the  dead  number'd 4  ? 

Her.    Here  is  the    number  of  the  slaughter'd 

French.  [Delivers  a  Paper. 

K.  Hen.  What  prisoners  of  good  sort  are  taken, 

uncle  ? 
Exe.  Charles  duke  of  Orleans 5,  nephew  to  the 
king; 
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 6 : 

3  —  your  shoes  is  not  so  goot:]  In  the  most  minute  parti- 
culars we  find  Shakspeare  as  observant  as  in  matters  of  the  highest 
moment.  Shoes  are,  above  any  other  article  of  dress,  an  object  of 
attention  to  the  common  soldier,  and  most  liable  to  be  worn  out. 

Malone. 

4  Now,  herald  ;  are  the  dead  number'd  ?]  I  have  little  doubt 
but  that  this  defective  line  was  originally  written  as  follows  : 

"  Now,  herald,  are  the  dead  on  both  sides  number'd  ?  " 

Steevens. 
s  Charles  duke  of  Orleans,  &c]     This  list  is  copied  from  Hall. 

Pope. 
It  is  taken  from  Holinshed.     Malone.  .  * 

6  Five  hundred  were  but  yesterday  dubb'd  knights  :]     In  an- 
cient times,  the  distribution  of  this  honour  appears  to  have  been 
customary,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle.     So,   in  Lawrence  Minot's  6th 
Poem  on  the  Successes  of  King  Edward  III.  p.  28  : 
"  Knightes  war  thar  wele  two  score, 

"  That  war  new  dubbed  to  that  dance — ."     Steevens. 
2  G  2 


452  KING  HENRY  V.  act  ir. 

So  that,  in  these  ten  thousand  they  have  lost, 
There  are  but  sixteen  hundred  mercenaries 7 ; 
The   rest  are  —  princes,    barons,    lords,    knights, 

'squires, 
And  gentlemen  of  blood  and  quality. 
The  names  of  those  their  nobles  that  lie  dead, — 
Charles  De-la-bret 8,  high  constable  of  France  ; 
Jaques  of  Chatillon,  admiral  of  France ; 
The  master  of  the  cross-bows,  lord  Rambures ; 
Great-master  of  France,  the  brave  sir  Guischard 

Dauphin ; 
John  duke  of  Alencon ;  Antony  duke  of  Brabant, 
The  brother  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy ; 
And  Edward  duke  of  Bar :  of  lusty  earls, 
Grandpre,  and  Roussi,  Fauconberg,  and  Foix, 
Beaumont,  and  Marie,  Vaudemont,  and  Lestrale. 

Here  was  a  royal  fellowship  of  death ! 

Where  is  the  number  of  our  English  dead  ? 

[Herald  presents  another  Paper. 
Edward  the  duke  of  York 9,  the  earl  of  Suffolk, 

1  —  sixteen  hundred  mercenaries  ;]  Mercenaries  are  in  this 
place  common  soldiers,  or  Aired  soldiers.  The  gentlemen  served 
at  their  own  charge  in  consequence  of  their  tenures.     Johnson. 

I  doubt  the  accuracy  of  Dr.  Johnson's  assertion,  that  "  the 
gentlemen  served  at  their  own  charge  in  consequence  of  their 
tenures ;  "  as,  I  take  it,  this  practice,  which  was  always  confined 
to  those  holding  by  knights'  service,  and  to  the  term  of  forty 
days,  had  fallen  into  complete  disuse  long  before  Henry  the 
Fifth's  time  ;  and  personal  service  would  not,  at  that  period,  have 
excused  the  subsidies  which  were  paid  in  lieu  of  it.  Even  the 
nobility  were,  for  the  most  part,  retained  by  contract  to  serve, 
with  the  numbers,  for  the  time,  and  at  the  wages,  specified  in  the 
indenture.     Ritson. 

^Charles  De-la-bret,]  De-la-bret,  as  is  already  observed, 
should  be  Charles  D'Albret,  would  the  measure  permit  of  such  a 
change.  Holinshed  sometimes  apologizes  for  the  omission  of 
foreign  names,  on  account  of  his  inability  to  spell  them,  but 
always  calls  this  nobleman  "  the  lord  de  la  Breth,  constable  of 
France."     See  p.  356,  n.  1.     Steevens. 

9  Edward  the  Duke  of  York,]  This,  and  the  two  following 
lines,  in  the  quartos,  are  given  to  Exeter.     Steevens. 


sc.  vm.  KING  HENRY  V.  453 

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, 

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  the  other  ? — Take  it,  God, 

For  it  is  only  thine  ! 

Exe.  Tis  wonderful ! 

K.  Hen.  Come,  go  we  in  procession  to  the  vil- 
lage : 
And  be  it  death  proclaimed  through  our  host, 
To  boast  of  this,  or  take  that  praise  from  God, 
Which  is  his  only. 

Flu.  Is  it  not  lawful,  an  please  your  majesty,  to 
tell  how  many  is  killed  ? 

K.  Hen.    Yes,  captain;   but  with  this  acknow- 
ledgment, 
That  God  fought  for  us. 

Flu.  Yes,  my  conscience,  he  did  us  great  goot. 

K.  Hen.  Do  we  all  holy  rites 2 ; 

1  —  Davy  Gam,  esquire :]  This  gentleman  being  sent  by 
Henry,  before  the  battle,  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy,  and  to  find 
out  their  strength,  made  this  report :  "  May  it  please  you,  my 
liege,  there  are  enough  to  be  killed,  enough  to  be  taken  pri- 
soners, and  enough  to  run  away."  He  saved  the  king's  life  in  the 
field.  Had  our  poet  been  apprized  of  this  circumstance,  this 
brave  Welshman  would  probably  have  been  more  particularly 
noticed,  and  not  have  been  merely  registered  in  a  muster-roll  of 
names.     Malone. 

See  Drayton's  Battaile  of  Agincourt,  edit.  1627,  pp.  50  and  54  : 
and  a  note  on  Mr.  Dunster's  excellent  edition  of  Philips's  Cider, 
p.  74.     Steevens. 

2  Do  we  all  holy  rites  ;]  The  King  (say  the  Chronicles)  caused 
the  psalm,  In  exitu  Israel  de  JEgypto  (in  which,  according  to  the 
vulgate,  is  included  the  psalm,  Non  nobis,  Domine,  &c.)  to  be 
sung  after  the  victory.     Pope. 

"  The  king  (says  Holinshed)  when  he  saw  no  appearance  of 
enemies,  caused  the  retreat  to  be  blowen,  and  gathering  his  army 


454  KING  HENRY  V.,  act  v. 

Let  there  be  sung  Non  nobis,  and  Te  Dewn. 
The  dead  with  charity  enclos'd  in  clay, 
We'll  then  to  Calais  ;  and  to  England  then ; 
Where  ne'er  from  France  arriv'd  more  happy  men. 

\Exeunt. 


ACT  V. 

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 
Toward  Calais :  grant  him  there ;  there  seen 3, 
Heave  him  away  upon  your  winged  thoughts, 
Athwart  the  sea :  Behold,  the  English  beach 
Pales  in  the  flood  with  men,  with  wives 4,  and  boys, 

together,  gave  thanks  to  Almighty  God  for  so  happy  a  victory, 
causing  his  prelates  and  chapeleins  to  sing  this  psalme,  In  exilu 
Israel  de  Egypto;  and  commaunding  every  man  to  kneele  downe, 
on  the  grounde  at  this  verse — Non  nobis,  Domine,  non  nobis,  sed 
nomini  tuo  da  gloriam  :  which  done,  he  caused  Te  Deum  and 
certain  anthems  to  be  sung,  giving  laud  and  praise  to  God,  and 
not  boasting  of  his  owne  force,  or  any  humaine  power." 

Malone. 

3  —  grant  him  there  ;  there  seen,]  If  Toward  be  not  ab- 
breviated, our  author,  with  his  accustomed  licence,  uses  one  of 
these  words  as  a  dissyllable,  while  to  the  other  he  assigns  only  its 
due  length.     See  vol.  v.  p.  79,  n.  5.     Malone. 

I  suspect  the  omission  of  some  word  or  words  essential  to  the 
metre.     Our  poet  might  have  written  : 

"  Toward  Calais  :  grant  him  there ;  there  seen  a  while, 
"  Heave  him  away,"  &c.     Steeveks. 

4  —  with  wives,]  With,  which  is  wanting  in  the  old  copy, 
was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 


act  v.  KING  HENRY  V.  455 

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  borne6 
His  bruised  helmet,  and  his  bended  sword, 
Before  him,  through  the  city  :  he  forbids  it, 


5  — a  mighty  whiffler — ]  An  officer  who  walks  first  in 
processions,  or  before  persons  in  high  stations,  on  occasions  of 
ceremony.  The  name  is  still  retained  in  London,  and  there  is 
an  officer  so  called  that  walks  before  their  companies  at  times  of 
publick  solemnity.  It  seems  a  corruption  from  the  French  word 
huissier.     Hanmer. 

See  Mr.  T.  Warton's  note  to  the  tragedy  of  Othello,  Act  III. 
Sc.  II. 

In  the  play  of  Clyomon,  Knight  of  the  Golden  Shield,  &c, 
1599,  a  tvh iffler  makes  his  appearance  at  a  tournament,  clearing 
the  way  before  the  King.  In  Westward  Hoe,  by  Decker  and 
Webster,  1697,  the  term  is  often  mentioned. 

Again,  in  Monsieur  D' Olive,  1606  : 

"  I  can  go  into  no  corner,  but  I  meet  with  some  of  mytohifflers 
in  their  accoutrements  ;  you  may  hear  them  half  a  mile  ere  they 
come  at  you." 

"  —  I  am  afraid  of  nothing  but  that  I  shall  be  balladed,  I  and 
all  my  tvhifflers." 

Again,  in  Westward  Hoe,  1607  :  **  The  torchmen  and  tvhifflers 
had  an  item  to  receive  him." 

Again,  in  TEXNOrAMIA,  1618  : 
"  Tobacco  is  awhiffler, 
"  And  cries  huff  snuff  with  furie  : 
"  His  pipe's  his  club  and  linke,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Isle  of  Gulls,  1606  :  "And  Manasses  shall  go 
before  like  a  tvhiffler,  and  make  way  with  his  horns."  Steevens. 

A  more  correct  explanation  of  this  word  may  be  found  in  Mr. 
Douce's  Illustrations  of  Shakspeare,  vol.  i.  p.  506 ;  but  it  is  too 
long  for  insertion  here.     Bo  swell. 

6  —  to  have  borne,  &c]  The  construction  is,  to  have  his 
bruised  helmet,  &c.  borne  before  him  through  the  city :  i.  e.  to 
order  it  to  be  borne.  This  circumstance  also  our  author  found  in 
Holinshed.     Malone. 


456  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

Being  free  from  vainness  and  self-glorious  pride ; 
Giving  full  trophy 7,  signal,  and  ostent, 
Quite  from  himself,  to  God.     But  now  behold, 
In  the  quick  forge  and  workinghouse  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  Csesar  in : 
As,  by  a  lower  but  by  loving  likelihood 8, 


7  Giving  full  trophy,]  Transferring  all  the  honours  of  con-* 
quest,  all,  trophies,  tokens,  and  shows,  from  himself  to  God. 

Johnson. 

8  —  likelihood,]     Likelihood  for  similitude.     Warburton. 
The  later  editors,  in  hope  of  mending  the  measure  of  this  line, 

have  injured  the  sense.  The  folio  reads  as  I  have  printed  ;  but 
all  the  books,  since  revisal  became  fashionable,  and  editors  have 
been  more. diligent  to  display  themselves  than  to  illustrate  their 
author,  have  given  the  line  thus  : 

"  As  by  a  low,  but  loving  likelihood." 

Thus  they  have  destroyed  the  praise  which  the  poet  designed 
for  Essex  ;  for  who  would  think  himself  honoured  by  the  epithet 
low?  The  poet,  desirous  to  celebrate  that  great  man,  whose 
popularity  was  then  his  boast,  and  afterwards  his  destruction,  com- 
pares him  to  King  Harry ;  but  being  afraid  to  offend  the  rival 
courtiers,  or  perhaps  the  Queen  herself,  he  confesses  that  he  is 
lower  than  a  King,  but  would  never  have  represented  him  abso- 
lutely as  low.     Johnson. 

Mr.  Pope  made  this  improper  alteration  ;  as  well  as  a  thousand 
others  equally  reprehensible.  Our  author  had  the  best  grounds 
for  supposing  that  Lord  Essex,  on  his  return  from  Ireland,  would 
be  attended  with  a  numerous  concourse  of  well-wishers  ;  for,  on 
his  setting  out  for  that  country  in  the  spring  of  the  year  in  which 
this  play  was  written,  "  he  took  horse  (says  the  Continuator  of 
Stowe's  Chronicle)  in  Seeding  lane,  and  from  thence  being  ac- 
companied with  diverse  noblemen  and  many  others,  himselfe  very 
plainly  attired,  roade  through  Grace-church  street,  Cornhill, 
Cheapside,  and  other  high  streets,  in  all  which  places  and  in  the 
fields,  the  people  pressed  exceedingly  to  behold  him,  especially 
in  the  high  way  for  more  than  foure  miles  space,  crying,  and  say- 
ing, God  blesse  your  Lordship,  God  preserve  your  honour,  &c. 
and  some  followed  him  till  the  evening,  only  to  behold  him."— v 
*•  Such  and  so  great  (adds  the  same  writer)  was  the  hearty  love 


act.  v.  KING  HENRY  V.  457 

Were  now  the  general  of  our  gracious  empress  9 
(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 2  in  behalf  of  France, 

and  deep  affection  of  the  people  towards  him,  by  reason  of  his 
bounty,  liberalise,  affabilitie,  and  mild  behaviour,  that  as  well 
schollars,  souldiers,  citizens,  saylers,  &c.  protestants,  papists, 
sectaries  and  atheists,  yea  women  and  children  which  never  saw 
him,  that  it  was  held  in  them  a  happiness  to  follow  the  worst  of 
his  fortunes."  That  such  a  man  should  have  fallen  a  sacrifice  to 
the  caprice  of  a  fantastick  woman,  and  the  machinations  of  the 
detestable  Cecil,  must  ever  be  lamented.  His  return  from 
Ireland,  however,  was  very  different  from  what  our  poet  predicted. 
See  a  curious  account  of  it  in  the  Sydney  Papers,  vol.  ii.  p.  127. 

Malone. 

9  —  the  general  of  our  gracious  empress  — ]  The  Earl  of 
Essex,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth.     Pope. 

Few  noblemen  of  his  age  were  more  courted  by  poets.  From 
Spenser,  to  the  lowest  rhymer,  he  was  the  subject  of  numerous 
sonnets  or  popular  ballads.  I  will  not  except  Sydney.  I  could 
produce  evidence  to  prove  that  he  scarce  ever  went  out  of  Eng- 
land, or  left  London,  on  the  most  frivolous  enterprize,  without  a 
pastoral  in  his  praise,  or  a  panegyrick  in  metre,  which  were  sold 
or  sung  in  the  streets.     T.  Warton. 

To  such  compliments  as  are  here  bestowed  by  our  author  on 
the  earl  of  Essex,  Barnabie  Riche,  in  his  Souldier's  Wishe  to 
Britons  Welfare,  or  Captain  Skill  and  Captain  Pill,  1604-,  p.  21, 
seems  to  allude  :  "  —  not  so  much  as  a  memorandum  for  the  most 
honourable  enterprizes,  how  worthily  so  ever  performed,  unless 
perhaps  a  little  commendation  in  a  ballad,  or  if  a  man  be  favoured 
by  a  playmaker,  he  may  sometimes  be  canonized  on  a  stage." 

Steevens. 

1  Bringing  rebellion  broached  — ]     Spitted,  transfixed. 

Johnson. 

2  The  emperor's  coming  — ]  The  emperor  Sigismond,  who 
was  married  to  Henry's  second  cousin.  If  the  text  be  right,  I 
suppose  the  meaning  is — The  emperor  is  coming,  &c.  but  I  sus- 
pect some  corruption,  for  the  Chorus  speaks  of  the  emperor's  visit 


458  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

To  order  peace  between  them ;)  and  omit 
All  the  occurrences,  whatever  chanc'd, 
Till  Harry's  back -return  again  to  France  ; 
There  must  we  bring  him ;  and  myself  have  play'd 
The  interim,  by  remembering  you — 'tis  past. 
Then  brook  abridgement ;  and  your  eyes  advance 
After  your  thoughts,  straight  back  again  to  France. 

\_Exit, 

SCENE  I8. 

France.    An  English  Court  of  Guard. 

Enter  Fluellen  and  Gower. 

Gow,  Nay,  that's  right ;  but  why  wear  you  your 
leek  to-day  ?  Saint  Davy's  day  is  past. 

Flu.  There  is  occasions  and  causes  why  and 
wherefore  in  all  things :  I  will  tell  you,  as  my  friend, 
captain  Gower ;  The  rascally,  scald,  beggarly,  lowsy, 

as  now  past.  I  believe  a  line  has  been  lost  before  "  The  empe- 
ror's," &c. — If  we  transpose  the  words  and  omit,  we  have  a  very 
unmetrical  line,  but  better  sense.  "  Omit  the  emperor's  coming, 
—and  all  the  occurrences  which  happened  till  Harry's  return  to 
France."  Perhaps  this  was  the  author's  meaning,  even  as  the 
words  stand.  If  so,  the  mark  of  parenthesis  should  be  placed 
after  the  word  home,  and  a  comma  after  them.     Malone. 

The  embarrassment  of  this  passage  will  be  entirely  removed  by 
a  very  slight  alteration,  the  omission  of  a  singleletter,  and  reading— 

"  The  emperor  coming  in  behalf  of  France," 
Instead  of — emperor's.     M.  Mason. 

Mr.  Capell  proposes  the  following  insertion: 

"  To  order  peace  between  them  :  But  these  notv 
"  We  pass  in  silence  over  ;  and  omit,"  &c.  Bos  well. 
3  Scene  I.]  This  scene  ought,  in  my  opinion,  to  conclude  the 
fourth  Act,  and  be  placed  before  the  last  Chorus.  There  is  no 
English  camp  in  this  Act ;  the  quarrel  apparently  happened  be- 
fore the  return  of  the  army  to  England,  and  not  after  so  long  an 
interval  as  the  Chorus  has  supplied.     Johnson. 

Fluellen  presently  says,  that  he  wore  his  leek  in  consequence  of 
an  affront  he  had  received  but  the  day  before  from  Pistol.  Their 
present  quarrel  has  therefore  no  reference  to  that  begun  in  the 
sixth  scene  of  the  third  Act.     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  V.  459 

pragging  knave,  Pistol,* — which  you  and  yourself, 
and  all  the  'orld,  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  contentions  with  him ;  but  I 
will  be  so  pold  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. 

Enter  Pistol. 

Gow.  Why,  here  he  comes,  swelling  like  a  tur- 
key-cock. 

Flu.  'Tis  no  matter  for  his  swellings,  nor  his 
turkey-cocks. — Got  pless  you,  ancient  Pistol !  you 
scurvy,  lowsy  knave,  Got  pless  you  ! 

Pist.  Ha !  art  thou  Bedlam  ?  dost  thou  thirst, 
base  Trojan, 
To  have  me  fold  up  Parca's  fatal  web 4  ? 
Hence  !  I  am  qualmish  at  the  smell  of  leek. 

Flu.  I  peseech  you  heartily,  scurvy  lowsy  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  affections,  and  your  appe- 
tites, and  your  digestions,  does  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  him^\ 
Will  you  be  so  goot,  scald  knave,  as  eat  it  ? 

Pist.  Base  Trojan,  thou  shalt  die. 

Flu.  You  say  very  true,  scald  knave,  when  Got's 
will  is :  I  will  desire  you  to  live  in  the  mean  time, 
and  eat  your  victuals:  come,  there  is  sauce  for  it. 
[Striking  him  again. ~\  You  called  me  yesterday, 
mountain-squire;  but   I   will  make  you  to-day  a 

4  To  have  me  fold  up,  &c]  Dost  thou  desire  to  have  me  put 
thee  to  death  ?     Johnson. 


460  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

squire  of  low  degree 5.  I  pray  you,  fall  to ;  if  you 
can  mock  a  leek,  you  can  eat  a  leek. 

Gorr.  Enough,  captain ;  you  have  astonished 
him6. 

Flu.  I  say,  I  will  make  him  eat  some  part  of  my 
leek,  or  I  will  peat  his  pate  four  days  : — Pite,  I  pray 
you ;  it  is  goot  for  your  green  wound,  and  your 
ploody  coxcomb. 

Pist.  Must  I  bite? 

Flu.  Yes,  certainly ;  and  out  of  doubt,  and  out 
of  questions  too,  and  ambiguities. 

Pist.  By  this  leek,  I  will  most  horribly  revenge  ; 
I  eat,  and  eke  I  swear — 7. 

Flu.  Eat,  I  pray  you  :  Will  you  have  some  more 
sauce  to  your  leek  ?  there  is  not  enough  leek  to 
swear  by. 

5  —  squire  of  low  degree.]  That  is,  "  I  will  bring  thee  to  the 
ground."     Johnson. 

"The  Squire  of  Low  Degree"  is  the  title  of  an  old  romance, 
enumerated,  among  other  books,  in  A  Letter  concerning  Queen 
Elizabeth's  Entertainment  at  Kenelworth.     Steevens. 

This   metrical  romance,   which  was  very  popular  among  our 
countrymen  in  ancient  times,  was  burlesqued  by  Chaucer,  in  hia 
rhyme  of  Sir  Thopas,  and  begins  thus  : 
"  It  was  a  squyre  qflowe  degre, 
"  That  loved  the  king's  daughter  of  Hungre." 
See  Reliques  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  iii.  p.  30,  2d  edition. 

Percy. 

6  < —  astonished  him.]  That  is,  you  have  stunned  him  with 
the  blow.     Johnson. 

Rather,  you  have  confounded  him.     M.  Mason. 

Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  is  the  true  one.  So,  in  the  second 
book  of  The  Destruction  of  Troy:    "Theseus  smote  again  upon 

his  enemy,  which,  &c. and  struck  Theseus  so  fiercely  with  his 

sword — that  he  was  astonished  with  the  stroke."     Steevens. 

7  I  eat,  and  eke  I  swear  — ]  The  first  folio  has  eat,  for  which 
the  later  editors  have  put — "  I  eat  and  swear."  We  should 
read,  I  suppose,  in  the  frigid  tumour  of  Pistol's  dialect : 

"  I  eat,  and  eke  I  swear."     Johnson. 
Thus  also  Pistol,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor : 

"  And  I  to  Ford  shall  eke  unfold — ."     Steevens. 
Perhaps — "  I  eat,  and  eating  swear."     Holt  White. 


sc.  i.  KING  HENRY  V.  461 

Pist.  Quiet  thy  cudgel ;  thou  dost  see,  I  eat. 

Flu.  Much  goot  do  you,  scald  knave,  heartily. 
Nay,  'pray  you,  throw  none  away  ;  the  skin  is  goot 
for  your  proken  coxcomb.  When  you  take  occa- 
sions to  see  leeks  hereafter,  I  pray  you,  mock  at 
them;  that  is  all. 

Pist.  Good. 

Flu.  Ay,  leeks  is  goot : — 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  be  \vi'  you,  and 
keep  you,  and  heal  your  pate.  [Exit. 

Pist.  All  hell  shall  stir  for  this. 

Goir.  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 8  and  galling  at  this  gentle- 
man 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  condition9. 
Fare  ye  well.  [Exit. 

8  —  gleeking  — ]  i.  e.  scoffing,  sneering.  Gleek  was  a  game 
at  cards.  So,  in  Greene's  Tu  Quoque,  1614  :  "  Why  gleek,  that's 
your  only  game  — ." — "  Gleek  let  it  be ;  for  I  am  persuaded  I 
shall  gleek  some  of  you." 

Again,  in  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife,   1661  :  "  —  I  suddenly 
gleek,  or  men  be  aware."     Steevens. 
See  vol.  v.  p.  253,  n.  8.     Boswell. 

9  —  English  condition.]     Condition  is  temper,  disposition  of 


4G2  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

Pist.  Doth  fortune  play  the  huswife  1  with  me 
now? 
News  have  I,  that  my  Nell  is  dead 2  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  cudgell'd.     Well,  bawd  will  I  turn, 
And  something  lean  to  cutpurse  of  quick  hand. 
To  England  will  I  steal,  and  there  Fll  steal : 
And  patches  will  I  get  unto  these  scars, 
And  swear,  I  got  them  in  the  Gallia  wars.   [Exit 3. 

mind.     So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice :    "  —  if  he  have  the 
condition  of  a  saint,  with  the  complexion  of  a  devil."     Steevens. 

1  Doth  fortune  play  the  huswife — ]  That  is,  the  jilt.  Hus- 
wife is  here  used  in  an  ill  sense.     Johnson. 

2  News  have  I,  that  my  Nell  is  dead,  &c]     Old  copy — Doll. 

Steevens. 
We  must  read — "  my  Nell  is  dead."     In  a  former  scene  Pistol 
says  :  "  Nor  shall  my  Nell  keep  lodgers."     Malone. 

Doll  Tearsheet  was  so  little  the  favourite  of  Pistol,  that  he  of- 
fered her  in  contempt  to  Nym.  Nor  would  her  death  have  "  cut 
off  his  rendezvous,"  that  is,  '  deprived  him  of  a  home.'  Perhaps 
the  poet  forgot  his  plan. 

In  the  quartos  1600  and  1608  the  lines  are  read  thus  : 
"  Doth  fortune  playe  the  huswyfe  with  me  now  ? 
•'  Is  honour  cudgel'd  from  my  warlike  lines  [loins]  ? 
"  Well,  France  farewell.     News  have  I  certainly 
"  That  Doll  is  sick  one  [on]  mallydie  of  France. 
"  The  warres  affordeth  nought ;  home  will  I  trug, 
"  Bawd  will  I  turne,  and  use  the  slyte  of  hand ; 
"  To  England  will  I  steal,  and  there  I'll  steal ; 
"  And  patches  will  I  get  unto  these  skarres, 
"  And  I  swear  I  gat  them  in  the  Gallia  wars."    Johnson. 

3  [Exit.']  The  comick  scenes  of  The  History  of  Henry  the  Fourth 
and  Fifth  are  now  at  an  end,  and  all  the  comick  personages  are  now 
dismissed.  Falstaff  and  Mrs.  Quickly  are  dead  ;  Nym  and  Bar- 
dolph  are  hanged  ;  Gadshill  was  lost  immediately  after  the  rob- 
bery ;  Poins  and  Peto  have  vanished  since,  one  knows  not  how  ; 
and  Pistol  is  now  beaten  into  obscurity.  I  believe  every  reader 
regrets  their  departure.     Johnson. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  463 


SCENE   II. 

Troyes  in  Champagne  4.     An  Apartment  in  the 
French  King's  Palace. 

Enter,  at  one  Door,  King  Henry,  Bedford,  Glos- 
ter,  Exeter,  Warwick,  Westmoreland,  and 
other  Lords ;  at  another  the  French  King, 
Queen  Isabel,  the  Princess  Katharine,  Lords, 
Ladies,  8$c.  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  his 
Train. 

K.  Hen.  Peace  to  this  meeting,  wherefore  we  are 
met5! 
Unto  our  brother  France, — and  to  our  sister, 
Health  and  fair  time  of  day: — joy  and  good  wishes 

*  Troyes  in  Champagne.]  Henry,  some  time  before  his  mar- 
riage with  Katharine,  accompanied  by  his  brothers,  uncles,  &c. 
had  a  conference  with  her,  the  French  King  and  Queen,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  &c.  in  a  field  near  Melun,  where  two  pavilions 
were  erected  for  the  royal  families,  and  a  third  between  them  for 
the  council  to  assemble  in  and  deliberate  on  the  articles  of  peace. 
"  The  Frenchmen,  (says  the  Chronicle,)  ditched,  trenched,  and 
paled  their  lodgings  for  fear  of  after-clappes  ;  but  the  Englishmen 
had  their  parte  of  the  field  only  barred  and  parted."  But  the 
treaty  was  then  broken  off.  Some  time  afterwards  they  again 
met  in  St.  Peter's  church  at  Troyes  in  Champagne,  where  Katha- 
rine was  affianced  to  Henry,  and  the  articles  of  peace  between 
France  and  England  finally  concluded. — Shakspeare,  having  men- 
tioned, in  the  course  of  this  scene,  "  a  bar  and  royal  interview," 
seems  to  have  had  the  former  place  of  meeting  in  his  thoughts  ; 
the  description  of  the  field  near  Melun,  in  the  Chronicle,  some- 
what corresponding  to  that  of  a  bar  or  barriers.  But  the  place  of 
the  present  scene  is  certainly  Troyes  in  Champagne.  However, 
as  St.  Peter's  Church  would  not  admit  of  the  French  King  and 
Queen,  &c.  retiring,  and  then  appearing  again  on  the  scene,  I  have 
supposed,  with  the  former  editors,  the  interview  to  take  place  in  a 
palace.     Malone. 

5  Peace  to  this  meeting,  wherefore  we  are  met !]     Peace,  for 
which  we  are  here  met,  be  to  this  meeting. 

Here,  after  the  chorus,  the  fifth  Act  seems  naturally  to  begin. 

Johnson. 


464  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

To  our  most  fair  and  princely  cousin  Katharine ; 

And  (as  a  branch  and  member  of  this  royalty, 

By  whom  this  great  assembly  is  contriv'd,) 

We  do  salute  you,  duke  of  Burgundy  ; — 

And,  princes  French,  and  peers,  health  to  you  all ! 

Fr.  King.  Right  joyous  are  we  to  behold  your  face, 
Most  worthy  brother  England  ;  fairly  met : — 
So  are  you,  princes  English,  every  one. 

Q.  Isa.  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  borne  in  them 
Against  the  French,  that  met  them  in  their  bent, 
The  fatal  balls  of  murdering  basilisks  6 : 
The  venom  of  such  looks,  we  fairly  hope, 
Have  lost  their  quality ;  and  that  this  day 
Shall  change  all  griefs,  and  quarrels,  into  love. 

K.  Hen.  To  cry  amen  to  that,  thus  we  appear. 

Q.  Isa.  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 7  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, 
You  have  congreeted  ;  let  it  not  disgrace  me, 

6  The  fatal  balls  of  murdering  basilisks  :]     So,  in  The 
Winter's  Tale  : 

"  Make  me  not  sighted  like  the  basilisk.'" 
It  was  anciently  supposed  that  this  serpent  could  destroy  the 
object  of  its  vengeance  by  merely  looking  at  it.     See  Henry  VI. 
Part  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  II.     Steevens. 

A  basilisk  was  also  a  great  gun.     See  Johnson's  Diet,  in  voce. 

Boswell. 

7  Unto  this  bar  — ]     To  this  barrier  ;  to  this  place  of  congress. 

Johnson. 


sc.  if.  KING  HENRY  V.  465 

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  chas'd ; 
And  all  her  husbandry  doth  lie  on  heaps, 
Corrupting  in  its  own  fertility. 
Her  vine,  the  merry  cheerer  of  the  heart, 
Unpruned  dies  8 :  her  hedges  even-pleached, 
Like  prisoners  wildly  over-grown  with  hair 9, 

8  Unpruned  dies  :]  We  must  read,  lies;  for  neglect  of  prun- 
ing does  not  kill  the  vine,  but  causes  it  to  ramify  immoderately, 
and  grow  wild ;  by  which  the  requisite  nourishment  is  withdrawn 
from  its  fruit.     Warburton. 

This  emendation  is  physically  right,  but  poetically  the  vine 
may  be  well  enough  said  to  die,  which  ceases  to  bear  fruit. 

Johnson. 

9  —  her  hedges  even-pleached, — 

Like  prisoners  wildly  over-grown  with  hair,  &c]  This  image 
of  prisoners  is  oddly  introduced.  A  "hedge  even-pleached"  is 
more  properly  imprisoned  than  when  it  luxuriates  in  unpruned 
exuberance.     Johnson. 

Johnson's  criticism  on  this  passage  has  no  just  foundation.  The 
King  compares  the  disorderly  shoots  of  an  undipped  hedge,  to 
the  hair  and  beard  of  a  prisoner,  which  he  has  neglected  to 
trim ;  a  neglect  natural  to  a  person  who  lives  alone,  and  in  a 
dejected  state  of  mind.     M.  Mason. 

The  learned  commentator  [Dr.  Johnson]  misapprehended,  I 
believe,  our  author's  sentiment.  Hedges  are  pleached,  that  is, 
their  long  branches  being  cut  off,  are  twisted  and  woven  through 
the  lower  part  of  the  hedge,  in  order  to  thicken  and  strengthen 
the  fence.  The  following  year,  when  the  hedge  shoots  out,  it  is 
customary,  in  many  places,  to  clip  the  shoots,  so  as  to  render 
them  even.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  therefore,  among  other 
instances  of  the  neglect  of  husbandry,  mentions  this  ;  that  the 
hedges,  which  were  even-pleached,  for  want  of  trimming,  put 
forth  irregular  twigs ;  like  prisoners,  who  in  their  confinement 
have  neglected  the  use  of  the  razor,  and  in  consequence  are 
wildly  overgrown  with  hair.  The  hedge,  in  its  cultivated  state, 
when  it  is  even-pleached,  is  compared  to  the  prisoner  :  in  its 

vol.  xvir.  2  H 


466  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

Put  forth  disorder'd  twigs  ;  her  fallow  leas 
The  darnel,  hemlock,  and  rank  fumitory, 
Doth  root  upon ;  while  that  the  coulter l  rusts, 
That  should  deracinate  2  such  savagery : 
The  even  mead,  that  erst  brought  sweetly  forth 
The  freckled  cowslip,  burnet,  and  green  clover, 
Wanting  the  scythe,  all3  uncorrected,  rank, 
Conceives  by  idleness  ;  and  nothing  teems, 
But  hateful  docks,  rough  thistles,  kecksies,  burs, 
Losing  both  beauty  and  utility. 
And  as  our  vineyards  4,  fallow's,  meads,  and  hedges, 
Defective  in  their  natures  5,  grow  to  wildness ; 
Even  so  our  houses,  and  ourselves,  and  children, 


"  wild  exuberance,"  it  resembles  the  prisoner  "  overgrown  with 
hair." 

As  a  hedge,  however,  that  is  even-pleached  or  woven  together, 
and  one  that  is  dipt,  are  alike  reduced  to  an  even  surface,  our 
author,  with  his  usual  licence,  might  have  meant  only  by  even- 
pleached,  "  our  hedges  which  were  heretofore  clipped  smooth  and 
even." 

The  line  "  Like  prisoners,"  &c.  it  should  be  observed,  relates 
to  the  one  which  follows,  and  not  to  that  which  precedes  it.  The 
construction  is,  '  Her  even-pleached  hedges  put  forth  disordered 
twigs,  resembling  persons  in  prison,  whose  faces  are  from  neglect 
over-grown  with  hair.'     Malone. 

'  — coulter — ]  The  ploughshare.  See  Johnson's  Diet,  in 
voce.     Reed. 

2  —  deracinate  — ]  To  deracinate  is  to  force  up  by  the  roots. 
So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida : 

"         •  rend  and  deracinate 
"  The  unity,"  &c.     Malone. 

3  — all — ]     Old  copy,  unmetrically — withall.     Steevens. 

4  And  as  our  vineyards,]  The  old  copy  reads — And  all  our 
vineyards.     The  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Roderick. 

Malone. 

5  Defective  in  their  natures,]  Nature  had  been  changed  by 
some  of  the  editors  into  nurture  ;  but,  as  Mr.  Upton  observes, 
unnecessarily.  "  Sua  deficiuntur  natura."  They  were  not  defective 
in  their  crescive  nature,  for  they  grew  to  wildness  ;  but  they  were 
defective  in  their  proper  and  favourable  nature,  which  was  to 
bring  forth  food  for  man.     Steevens. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  467 

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, — 
To  swearing,  and  stern  looks,  diffus'd  attire  6, 
And  every  thing  that  seems  unnatural. 
Which  to  reduce  into  our  former  favour 7, 
You  are  assembled :  and  my  speech  entreats, 
That  I  may  know  the  let,  why  gentle  peace 
Should  not  expel  these  inconveniencies, 
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 
With  full  accord  to  all  our  just  demands  ; 
Whose  tenours  and  particular  effects 
You  have,  enschedul'd  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  urg'd,  lies  in  his  answer. 

Fr.  King.  I  have  but  with  a  cursorary  eye 

6  — diffus'd  attire,]  Diffus'd,  for  extravagant.  The  military- 
habit  of  those  times  was  extremely  so.  Act  III.  Gowersays,  "  And 
what  a  beard  of  the  general's  cut,  and  a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp, 
will  do  amongst,  &c.  is  wonderful  to  be  thought  on." 

Warburton. 
Diffus'd  is  so  much  used  by  our  author  for  wild,  irregulart 
and  strange,  that  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  he  applies  it 
to  a  song  supposed  to  be  sung  by  fairies.     Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Lear,  vol.  x.  p.  4-8,  n.  2 : 

"  If  that  as  well  I  other  accents  borrow, 

"  That  can  my  speech  diffuse ." 

See  note  on  this  passage.     Steevens. 

7  — former  favour,]     Former  appearance.     Johnson. 
So,  in  Othello : 

" nor  should  I  know  him, 

"  Were  he  injavour  as  in  humour  alter'd."     Steevens. 
2  H  2 


468  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

O'er-glanc'd  the  articles :  pleaseth  your  grace 
To  appoint  some  of  your  council  presently 
To  sit  with  us  once  more,  with  better  heed 
To  re -survey  them,  we  will,  suddenly, 
Pass  our  accept,  and  peremptory  answer5. 

K.  Hen.  Brother,  we  shall. — Go,  uncle  Exeter, — 
And  brother  Clarence9, — and  you,  brother  Gloster, — 
Warwick, — and  Huntington, — go  with  the  king : 
And  take  with  you  free  power,  to  ratify, 

8  —  we  will,  suddenly, 

Pass  our  accept,  and  peremptory  answer.]  As  the  French 
King  desires  more  time  to  consider  deliberately  of  the  articles, 
'tis  odd  and  absurd  for  him  to  say  absolutely,  that  he  would  ac- 
cept them  all.  He  certainly  must  mean,  that  he  would  at  once 
•wave  and  decline  what  he  disliked,  and  consign  to  such  as  he 
approved  of.  Our  author  uses  pass  in  this  manner  in  other 
places  ;  as  in  King  John  : 

"  But  if  you  fondly  pass  our  proffer'd  love."  Warburton. 
The  objection  is  founded,  I  apprehend,  on  a  misconception  of 
the  word  accept,  which  does  not,  I  think,  import  that  he  would 
accept  them  all,  but  means  acceptation.  We  will  immediately, 
says  he,  deliver  our  acceptation  of  these  articles, — the  opinion 
which  we  shall  form  upon  them,  and  our  peremptory  answer  to 
each  particular.  Fuller,  in  his  Worthies,  J  660,  uses  acception 
for  acceptation.  See  Sc.  VII.  of  the  preceding  Act,  p.  445,  n.  5. 
If  any  change  were  to  be  made,  I  would  rather  read, — "  Pass 
or  except,'"  &c.  i.  e.  agree  to,  or  except  against  the  articles,  as  I 
should  either  approve  or  dislike  them.  So,  in  a  subsequent  part 
of  this  scene : 

"  Nor  this  I  have  not,  brother,  so  denied, 
"  But  your  request  shall  make  me  let  it  pass."  Malone. 
"  Pass  our  accept,  and  peremptory  answer."  i.  e.  we  will  pass 
our  acceptance  of  what  we  approve,  and  we  will  pass  a  peremp- 
tory answer  to  the  rest.  Politeness  might  forbid  his  saying,  we 
will  pass  a  denial,  but  his  own  dignity  required  more  time  for 
deliberation.  Besides,  if  we  read  pass  or  accept,  is  not  peremp- 
tory answer  superfluous,  and  plainly  implied  in  the  former  words  ? 

Tollet. 
9  And  brother  Clarence,]  Neither  Clarence  nor  Huntington, 
whom  the  King  here  addresses,  has  been  enumerated  in  the 
Dramatis  Personae,  as  neither  of  them  speaks  a  word.  Hun- 
tington was  John  Holland,  Earl  of  Huntington,  who  afterwards 
married  the  widow  of  Edmond  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March. 

Malone. 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  469 

Augment,  or  alter,  as  your  wisdoms  best 

Shall  see  advantageable  for  our  dignity, 

Any  thing  in,  or  out  of,  our  demands  ; 

And  we'll  consign  thereto. — Will  you,  fair  sister, 

Go  with  the  princes,  or  stay  here  with  us  ? 

Q.  Isa.   Our   gracious   brother,    I  will  go  with 
them  ; 
Haply,  a  woman's  voice  may  do  some  good, 
When  articles,  too  nicely  urg'd,  be  stood  on. 

K.  Hen.  Yet  leave  our  cousin  Katharine  here 
with  us ; 
She  is  our  capital  demand,  compris'd 
Within  the  fore-rank  of  our  articles. 

Q.  Is  a.  She  hath  good  leave. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Henry,  Katharine,  and 
her  Gentlewoman. 

K.  Hen.  Fair  Katharine,  and  most  fair ] ! 

Will  you  vouchsafe  to  teach  a  soldier  terms, 
Such  as  will  enter  at  a  lady's  ear, 
And  plead  his  love -suit  to  her  gentle  heart  ? 

Kath.  Your  majesty  shall  mock  at  me  ;  I  cannot 
speak  your  England. 

K.  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  moy,  I  cannot  tell  vat  is — like 
me. 

K.  Hen.  An  angel  is  like  you,  Kate ;  and  you 
are  like  an  angel. 

Kath.  Que  dit-il?  que  je  suis  semblable  d,  les 
anges  ? 

1  Fair  Katharine,  and  most  fair!]  Shakspeare  might  have 
taken  the  hint  for  this  scene  from  the  anonymous  play  of  Henry  V. 
so  often  quoted,  where  the  King  begins  with  greater  bluntness, 
and  with  an  exordium  most  truly  English  : 

"  How  now,  fair  lady  Katharine  of  France ! 
"  What  news  ?  "     Steevens. 


470  KING  HENRY  V.  act  r. 

Alice.  Ouy,  vrayment,  (sauf  vostre  grace)  ainsi 
dit  il. 

K.  Hen.  I  said  so,  dear  Katharine ;  and  I  must 
not  blush  to  affirm  it. 

Kath.  0  bon  Dieu !  les  langues  des  homines  sont 
pleines  des  tromperies. 

K.  Hen.  What  says  she,  fair  one  ?  that  the 
tongues  of  men  are  full  of  deceits  ? 

Alice.  Ouy  ;  dat  de  tongues  of  de  mans  is  be 
full  of  deceits  :  dat  is  de  princess 2. 

K.  Hen.  The  princess  is  the  better  English-wo- 
man. I'  faith,  Kate,  my  wooing  is  fit  for  thy  under- 
standing :  I  am  glad,  thou  can'st  speak  no  better 
English  ;  for,  if  thou  couldst,  thou  wouldst  find  me 
such  a  plain  king3,  that  thou  would  st  think,  I  had 

*  — dat  is  de  princess.]  Surely  this  should  be — "  Dat  says 
de  princess."  This  is  in  answer  to  the  King,  who  asks,  "  What 
says  she,  fair  one?  "     M.  Mason. 

I  believe  the  old  reading  is  the  true  one.  By — "  dat  is  the 
princess,"  the  lady,  in  her  broken  English,  means — '  that  is  what 
the  princess  has  said.'  Perhaps,  the  speaker  was  desirous  to 
exempt  herself  from  suspicion  of  concurrence  in  a  general  censure 
on  the  sincerity  of  mankind.     Steevens. 

3  — such  a  plain  king,]  I  know  not  why  Shakspeare  now 
gives  the  king  nearly  such  a  character  as  he  made  him  formerly 
ridicule  in  Percy.  This  military  grossness  and  unskilfulness  in 
all  the  softer  arts  does  not  suit  very  well  with  the  gaieties  of  his 
youth,  with  the  general  knowledge  ascribed  to  him  at  his  acces- 
sion, or  with  the  contemptuous  message  sent  him  by  the  Dau- 
phin, who  represents  him  as  fitter  for  a  ball-room  than  the  field, 
and  tells  him  that  he  is  not  to  revel  into  duchies,  or  win  provinces 
ivith  a  nimble  galliard.  The  truth  is,  that  the  poet's  matter  failed 
him  in  the  fifth  Act,  and  he  was  glad  to  fill  it  up  with  whatever 
he  could  get ;  and  not  even  Shakspeare  can  write  well  without  a 
proper  subject.  It  is  a  vain  endeavour  for  the  most  skilful  hand 
to  cultivate  barrenness,  or  to  paint  upon  vacuity.     Johnson. 

Our  author,  I  believe,  was  led  imperceptibly  by  the  old  play 
to  give  this  representation  of  Henry,  and  meant  probably,  in  this 
speech  at  least,  not  to  oppose  the  soldier  to  the  lover,  but  the 
plain,  honest  Englishman,  to  the  less  sincere  and  more  talkative 
Frenchman.  In  the  old  King  Henry  V.  quarto,  1598,  the  corr 
responding  speech  stands  thus  : 


sen.  KING  HENRY  V.  471 

sold  my  farm  to  buy  my  crown.  I  know  no  ways 
to  mince  it  in  love,  but  directly  to  say — I  love  you  : 
then,  if  you  urge  me  further  than  to  say — Do  you 
in  faith  ?  I  wear  out  my  suit.  Give  me  your  an- 
swer ;  i'  faith,  do ;  and  so  clap  hands  and  a  bar- 
gain 4 :  How  say  you,  lady  ? 

Kath.  Saufvostre  honneur,  me  understand  well. 

K.  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  strength  in  measure 5,  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,  I  cannot  look  greenly6,  nor  gasp  out 

"  Hen.  Tush  Kate,  but  tell  me  in  plain  terms, 
"  Canst  thou  love  the  king  of  England  ? 
*\I  cannot  do  as  these  countries  [perhaps  counties,  i.  e.  no- 
blemen] do, 
"  That  spend  half  their  time  in  wooing : 
"Tush,  wench,  I  am  none  such  ; 
"  But  wilt  thou  go  over  to  England  ?  " 
The  subsequent  speech,  however,  "  Marry,  if  you  would  put 
me  to  verses,"  &c.  fully  justifies  Dr.  Johnson's  observation. 

Malone. 
*  — and  so  clap  hands,  and  a  bargain  :]    See  vol.  xiv.  p.  246, 
n.  8.     Malone. 

5  —  no  strength  in  measure,]     i.   e.  in  dancing.     So,  in  As 
You  Like  It : 

"  I  am  for  other  than  for  dancing  measures." 
The  word  measure,  signifying  a  stately  dance  so  called,  occurs 
in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  King  Henry  VIII.  and  other  plays 
of  our  author.     Steevens. 

6  — look    greenly,]     i.  e.  like  a  young  lover,   aukwardly. 
The  same  adverb  occurs  in  Hamlet : 

" and  we  have  done  but  greenly, 

"  In  hugger-mugger  to  inter  him — ."     Steevens. 


472  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

my  eloquence,  nor  have  I  no  cunning  in  protesta- 
tion ;  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  soldier7:  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 8 ;  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  themselves  out  again.  What  !  a  speaker  is 
but  a  prater;  a  rhyme  is  but  a  ballad.  A  good  leg 
will  fall 9 ;  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  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, 


7  I  speak  to  thee  plain  soldier :]  Similar  phraseology  has  al- 
ready occurred  in  King  John,  vol.  xv.  p.  251 : 

"  He  speaks  plain  cannon,  fire,  and  bounce,  and  smoke." 

Steevens. 

8  —  take  a  fellow  of  plain  and  uncoined  constancy ;]  i.  e.  A 
constancy  in  the  ingot,  that  hath  suffered  no  alloy,  as  all  coined 
metal  has.     Warburton. 

I  believe  this  explanation  to  be  more  ingenious  than  true ;  to 
coin  is  to  stamp  and  to  counterfeit.  He  uses  it  in  both  senses  ; 
uncoined  constancy  signifies  real  and  true  constancy,  unrefined  and 
unadorned.     Johnson. 

"  Uncoined  constancy,"  resembling  a  plain  piece  of  metal  that 
has  not  yet  received  any  impression.  Katharine  was  the  first 
woman  that  Henry  had  ever  loved.     A.  C. 

9  —  fall ;]     i.  e.  shrink,  fall  away,     Steevens. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  473 

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. 

Kath.  Is  it  possible  dat  I  should  love  the  enemy 
of  France  x  ? 

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. 

Kath.  I  cannot  tell  vat  is  dat. 

K.  Hen.  No,  Kate  ?  1  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.  Quandjay  la  possession  de  France, 
et  quand  vous  avez  le possession  de  moi,  (let  me  see, 
what  then  ?  Saint  Dennis  be  my  speed  !) — done  vos- 
tre  est  France,  et  vous  estes  mienne.  It  is  as  easy  for 
me,  Kate,  to  conquer  the  kingdom,  as  to  speak  so 
much  more  French:  I  shall  never  move  thee  in 
French,  unless  it  be  to  laugh  at  me. 

Kath.  Saufvostre  honneur,  le  Francois  que  vous 
parlez,  est  meilleur  que  VAnglois  leguelje  park. 

K.  Hen.  No,  'faith,  is't  not,  Kate  :  but  thy  speak- 
ing of  my  tongue,  and  I  thine,  most  truly  falsely, 
must  needs  be  granted  to  be  much  at  one.  But, 
Kate,  dost  thou  understand  thus  much  English  ? 
Canst  thou  love  me  ? 

Kath.  I  cannot  tell. 

K.  Hen.  Can  any  of  your  neighbours  tell,  Kate  ? 
I'll  ask  them.     Come,  I  know,  thou  lovestme:  and 


1  Is  it  possible  dat  I  should  love  de  enemy  of  France?]  So,  in 
the  anonymous  play  of  The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  the  Fifth  : 
"  Kate.  How  should  I  love  thee  which  is  my  father's  enemie  ?  " 

Steevens. 


474  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

at  night  when  you  come  into  your  closet,  you'll 
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  be'st 
mine,  Kate,  (as  I  have  a  saving  faith  within  me, 
tells  me, — thou  shalt,)  I  get  thee  with  scambling 2, 
and  thou  must  therefore  needs  prove  a  good  soldier- 
breeder  :  Shall  not  thou  and  I,  between  Saint  Den- 
nis and  Saint  George,  compound  a  boy,  half  French, 
half  English,  that  shall  go  to  Constantinople  3,  and 
take  the  Turk  by  the  beard  ?  shall  we  not  ?  what 
sayest  thou,  my  fair  flower-de-luce  ? 

Kath.  I  do  not  know  dat. 

K.  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  Katha- 
rine du  monde,  mon  tres  chere  et  divine  deesse  ? 

Kath.  Your  majeste  'ave  fausse  French  enough 
to  deceive  de  most^^e  damoiselle  dat  is  en  France. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  fye  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 4 


2  —  with  scambling,]  i.  e.  scrambling.  See  Dr.  Percy's 
note  in  the  first  scene  of  this  play,  p.  259,  n.  9 ;  and  vol.  vii. 
p.  134,  n.  3.     Steevens. 

3  -n-  go  to  Constantinople,]  Shakspeare  has  here  committed 
an  anachronism.  The  Turks  were  not  possessed  of  Constantinople 
before  the  year  1453,  when  Henry  V.  had  been  dead  thirty-one 
years.     Theobald. 

4  —  untempering  effect  — ]     Certainly  untempting. 

Warburton, 
Untempering  I  believe  to  have  been  the  poet's  word.     The 


sc.  ii.  KING  HENRY  V.  475 

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  el- 
der 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 ;  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  musick  ;  for  thy  voice  is 
musick,  and  thy  English  broken  :  therefore,  queen 
of  all,  Katharine,  break  thy  mind  to  me  in  broken 
English,  Wilt  thou  have  me  ? 

Kath.  Dat  is,  as  it  shall  please  de  roy  mon  pere. 

K.  Hen.  Nay,  it  will  please  him  well,  Kate ;  it 
shall  please  him,  Kate. 

Kath.  Den  it  shall  also  content  me. 


sense  is,  I  conceive,  '  that  you  love  me,  notwithstanding  my  face 
has  no  power  to  temper,'  i.  e.  soften  you  to  my  purpose  ; 
"  ■  nature  made  you 

**  To  temper  man  — ."     Otway. 
So  again,  in  Titus  Andronicus,  which  may,  at  least,  be  quoted 
as  the  work  of  an  author  contemporary  with  Shakspeare  : 
"  And  temper  him  with  all  the  art  I  have." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. :  "  I  have  him  already  tem- 
pering between  my  thumb  and  finger—."     Steevens. 


476  KING  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

K.  Hen.  Upon  that  I  will  kiss  your  hand,  and  I 
call  you — my  queen. 

Kath.  Laissez,  mon  seigneur ',  laissez,  laissez : 
ma  Joy,  je  ne  veux  point  que  vous  abbaissez  vostre 
grandeur,  en  baisant  la  main  oVune  vostre  indigne 
serviteure  ;  excusez  moy,  je  vous  supplie,  mon  tres 
puissant  seigneur. 

K.  Hen.  Then  I  will  kiss  your  lips,  Kate. 

Kath.  Les  dames,  et  damoiselles,  pour  estre 
baisees  devant  leur  nopces,  il  n'est  pas  le  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  what  is,  baiser,  en  English. 

K.  Hen.  To  kiss. 

Alice.  Your  majesty  entendre  bettre  que  moy. 

K.  Hen.  It  is  not  the  fashion  for  the  maids  in 
France  to  kiss  before  they  are  married,  would  she 
say  ? 

Alice.  Ouy,  vrayment. 

K.  Hen.  O,  Kate,  nice  customs  curt'sy  to  great 
kings.  Dear  Kate,  you  and  I  cannot  be  confined 
within  the  weak  list5  of  a  country's  fashion:  we 
are  the  makers  of  manners,  Kate  ;  and  the  liberty 
that  follows  our  places  stops  the  mouths  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  monarchs 6.     Here  comes  your  father. 

5  — weak  list — ]     i.  e.  slight  barrier.     So,  in  Othello  : 

"  Confine  yourself  within  a  patient  list."     Steevens. 

6  —  your  lips, — should  sooner  persuade  Harry  of  England,  than 
a  general  petition  of  monarchs.]     So,  in    the  old   anonymous 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  V.  477 

Enter  the  French  King  and  Queen,  Burgundy, 
Bedford,  Gloster,  Exeter,  W estmoreland, 
and  other  French  and  English  Lords. 

Bur.  God  save  your  majesty !  my  royal  cousin, 
teach  you  our  princess  English  ? 

K.  Hen.  I  would  have  her  learn,  my  fair  cousin, 
how  perfectly  I  love  her ;  and  that  is  good  English. 

Bur.  Is  she  not  apt  ? 

K.  Hen.  Our  tongue  is  rough,  coz  ;  and  my  con- 
dition is  not  smooth 7 :  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. 

Bur.  Pardon  the  frankness  of  my  mirth 8,  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. 

K.  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. 

K.  Hen.  Then,  good  my  lord,  teach  your  cousin 
to  consent  to  winking. 

Henry  V. :  "  Tell  thy  father  from  me,  that  none  in  the  world 
should  sooner  have  persuaded  me,"  &c.     Steevens. 

7  —  my  condition  is  not  smooth  :]  Condition  is  temper.  So, 
in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  Act  I.  Sc.  III. : 

««  i  my  condition, 

"  Which  has  been  smooth  as  oil,"  &c. 
See  vol.  xvi.p.  208,  n.  7.     Steevens. 

8  Pardon  the  frankness  of  my  mirth,]  We  have  here  but  a  mean 
dialogue  for  princes  ;  the  merriment  is  very  gross,  and  the  senti- 
ments are  verv  worthless.     Johnson. 


478  KTNG  HENRY  V.  act  v. 

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  Bar- 
tholomew-tide, blind,  though  they  have  their  eyes; 
and  then  they  will  endure  handling,  which  before 
would  not  abide  looking  on. 

K.  Hen.  This  moral9  ties  me  over  to  time,  and 
a  hot  summer ;  and  so  I  will  catch  the  fly,  your 
cousin,  in  the  latter  end,  and  she  must  be  blind  too. 

Bur.  As  love  is,  my  lord,  before  it  loves. 

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  perspec- 
tively,  the  cities  turned  into  a  maid ' ;  for  they  are 
all  girdled  with  maiden  walls,  that  war  hath  never 
entered  2. 

K.  Hen.  Shall  Kate  be  my  wife  ? 

Fr.  King.  So  please  you. 

K.  Hen.  I  am  content;  so  the  maiden  cities 
you  talk  of,  may  wait  on  her :  so  the   maid,  that 


9  This  moral  — ]  That  is,  the  application  of  this  fable.  The 
moral  being  the  application  of  a  fable,  our  author  calls  any  appli- 
cation amoral.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  :  "  Benedictus  !  why  Bene- 
dictus  ?  you  have  some  moral  in  this  Benedictus  ?  "  See  vol.  vii. 
p.  100,  n.  1.     Steevens. 

1  —  you  see  them  perspectively,  the  cities  turned  into  a 
maid  ;]     So,  in  Twelfth-Night,  Act  V.  Sc.  I.  : 

"  A  natural  perspective,  that  is,  and  is  not." 
See  Mr.  Toilet's  note  on  this  passage,  vol.  xi.  p.  495,  n.  7. 

Steevens. 

2  —  they  are  all  girdled  with  maiden  walls,  &c]  We  have 
again  the  same  allusion  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  This  moves  in  him  more  rage,  and  lesser  pity, 
' '  To  make  the  breach,  and  enter  this  sweet  city" 
Again,  in  his  Lover's  Complaint: 

"  And  long  upon  these  terms  I  held  my  city, 
"  Till  thus  he  'gan  to  siege  me."     Malone. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  479 

stood   in  the  way  of  my  wish,  shall  show  me  the 
way  to  my  will. 

Fr.  King.  We  have  consented  to  all  terms  of 
reason. 

K.  Hen.  Is't  so,  my  lords  of  England  ? 

West.  The  king  hath  granted  every  article : 
His  daughter,  first ;  and  then,  in  sequel,  all 3, 
According  to  their  firm  proposed  natures. 

Exe.  Only,  he  hath  not  yet  subscribed  this : — 
Where  your  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  jilz 
Henry  roy  d! Ayigleterre,  heretier  de  France ;  and 
thus  in  Latin, — Fr  cedar  issimus  jilius 4  noster  Hen- 
ricuSy  rex  AnglicE,  et  hares  Francice. 

Fr.  King.   Nor  this  I  have  not,  brother,  so  de- 
nied, 
But  your  request  shall  make  me  let  it  pass. 

K.  Hen.  I  pray  you  then,  in  love  and  dear  alli- 
ance, 
Let  that  one  article  rank  with  the  rest: 


3  —  and  then,  in  sequel,  all,]  Then,  which  is  not  in  the  old 
copy,  was  supplied,  for  the  sake  of  the  metre,  by  the  editor  of  the 
second  folio.     Malone. 

4  —  Notre  tres  cher  filz — and  thus  in  Latin, — Prjeclarissi- 
mus  filius  — ]  What,  is  tres  cher,  in  French,  Prceclarissimus  in 
Latin?     We  should  read — prcecarissimus.     Warburton. 

"  This  is  exceeding  true,"  says  Dr.  Farmer,  "  but  how  came 
the  blunder?  It  is  a  typographical  one  in  Holinshed,  which 
Shakspeare  copied ;  but  must  indisputably  have  been  corrected, 
had  he  been  acquainted  with  the  languages."     Steevens. 

In  all  the  old  historians  that  I  have  seen,  as  well  as  in  Holin- 
shed,  I  find  this  mistake ;  but  in  the  preamble  of  the  original  treaty 
of  Troyes,  Henry  Is  styled  Prcecarissimus  ;  and  in  the  22d  article 
the  stipulation  is,  that  he  shall  always  be  called,  "  in  lingua  Gal- 
licana  notre  tres  cher  fils,  &c.  in  lingua  vero  Latina  hoc  modo, 
noster  prcecarissimus  filius  Henricus,"  &c.  See  Rymer's  Feed.  ix. 
893.     Malone. 


480  KING  HENRY  V.  act  p\ 

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, 
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, 
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 5, 
To  make  divorce  of  their  incorporate  league  ; 
That  English  may  as  French,  French  Englishmen, 
Receive  each  other  ! — God  speak  this  Amen  ! 

All.  Amen ! 

K.  Hen.    Prepare   we   for   our   marriage: — on 
which  day  6, 

s  —  the  paction  of  these  kingdoms,]  The  old  folios  have  it — 
the  patiou,  which  makes  me  believe  the  author's  word  was  paction; 
a  word  more  proper  on  the  occasion  of  a  peace  struck  up.  A  pas- 
sion of  two  kingdoms  for  one  another  is  an  odd  expression.  An 
amity  and  political  harmony  may  be  fixed  betwixt  two  countries, 
and  yet  either  people  be  far  from  having  a  passion  for  the  other. 

Theobald. 
6  Prepare  we,  &c]     The  quartos,  1600  and  1608,  conclude  with 
the  following  speech  : 

"  Hen.  Why  then  fair  Katharine, 
"  Come,  give  me  thy  hand  : 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  V.  481 

My  lord  of  Burgundy,  we'll  take  your  oath, 
And  all  the  peers',  for  surety  of  our  leagues. — 
Then  shall  I  swear  to  Kate,  and  you  to  me ; 
And  may  our  oaths  well  kept  and  prosperous  be  ! 

[Exeunt. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Thus  far,  with  rough,  and  all  unable  pen, 

Our  bending  author  7  has  pursu'd  the  story ; 
In  little  room  confining  mighty  men, 

Mangling  by  starts 8  the  full  course  of  their  glory. 
Small  time,  but,  in  that  small,  most  greatly  liv'd 

This  star  of  England :  fortune  made  his  sword  ; 
By  which  the  world's  best  garden  9  he  achiev'd, 

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  ; 
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 l. 

"  Our  marriage  will  we  present  solemnize, 
"  And  end  our  hatred  by  a  bond  of  love. 
"  Then  will  I  swear  to  Kate,  and  Kate  to  me, 
"  And  may  our  vows  once  made,  unbroken  be." 

Steevens. 

7  Our  bending  author  — ]  By  bending,  our  author  meant 
unequal  to  the  "weight  of  his  subject,  and  bending  beneath  it ;  or 
he  may  mean,  as  in  Hamlet :  "  Here  stooping  to  your  clemencv." 

Steevens. 

8  Mangling  by  starts  — ]     By  touching  only  on  select  parts. 

Johnson. 

9  the  world's  best  garden  — ]  i.  e.  France.  A  similar  dis- 
tinction is  bestowed,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  on  Lombardy : 

"  The  pleasant  garden  of  great  Italy."     Steevens. 

1  This  play  has  many  scenes  of  high  dignity,  and  many  of  easy 
merriment.  The  character  of  the  King  is  well  supported,  except 
in  his  courtship,  where  he  has  neither  the  vivacity  of  Hal,  nor 

VOL.  XVII.  2    I 


482  KING  HENRY  V. 

the  grandeur  of  Henry.  The  humour  of  Pistol  is  very  happily 
continued  :  his  character  has  perhaps  been  the  model  of  all  the 
bullies  that  have  yet  appeared  on  the  English  stage. 

The  lines  given  to  the  Chorus  have  many  admirers ;  but  the 
truth  is,  that  in  them  a  little  may  be  praised,  and  much  must  be 
forgiven ;  nor  can  it  be  easily  discovered  why  the  intelligence 
given  by  the  Chorus  is  more  necessary  in  this  play  than  in  many 
others  where  it  is  omitted.  The  great  defect  of  this  play  is  the 
emptiness  and  narrowness  of  the  last  Act,  which  a  very  little  di- 
ligence might  have  easily  avoided.     Johnson. 

The  variations  between  the  quarto  and  folio  copies  of  this  play 
are  numerous  and  extensive ;  but,  as  Johnson  has  observed,  it 
would  be  tedious  to  mention  them,  and  tedious  without  much 
use.  The  earliest  editions  are  evidently  corrupted  and  imperfect, 
and  bear  no  marks  of  being  the  author's  first  conceptions,  which 
I  have  supposed  may  have  been  the  case  with  the  first  copy  of 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  where  I  have  for  that  reason  exhibited  the 
alterations  in  detail.  Yet,  as  a  few  verbal  differences  have  been 
pointed  out  by  my  predecessors,  I  have  made  a  small  addition  to 
their  number,  where  it  might  be  questionable  which  reading  de- 
served a  preference.     Boswell. 


END    OF    VOL.    XVII. 


C.  Baldwin,  Printer, 
N«w  Bridge-street,  IjuimIo 


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