Lib.
 
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 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF
 
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 Hootlovers Ecfiiion 
 
 V 
 
 2^illian\Sl\al^spGarQ 
 
 *ifl/*i^T^lr^rocruc^ iorxs, 
 
 *>^otGs, Glossary, 
 
 Critical ^on\rT\ervjts, 
 
 ai\cf c/^G^bvpcf of Siucfy 
 
 T}\Q Urvjver»si^y Society 
 New York.
 
 Copyright, 1 90 1 
 
 By 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
 
 The Second Part of 
 King Henry IV.
 
 COLLEGI 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Critical Comments, 
 
 
 I. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 I. The Earl of Northumberland receives news of his 
 son Hotspur's defeat and death; also that the King has 
 despatched against him an army under the conduct of 
 his second son, P^rince John of Lancaster, and the Earl 
 of Westmoreland. Though in feeble health, he resolves 
 to resist. Meantime the generalship of the insurgent 
 forces devolves upon Scroop, Archbishop of York. 
 
 II. Sir John Falstaff, though entrusted with a com- 
 mission for levying a company of royal troops, cannot 
 neglect his personal interests at the tavern. He runs 
 up an account with the Hostess and narrowly escapes 
 being sued for the debt. He is found in the tavern by 
 the Prince of Wales, who has just returned from his vic- 
 torious engagement at Shrewsbury; and the corpulent 
 knight is summoned to forsake his cups and resume his 
 military duties. 
 
 III. Falstaff's recruiting is more successful for his 
 purse than for the army, since he releases able-bodied 
 men who can buy themselves out of service, and retains 
 weak, indifferent fellows who hardly serve for targets. 
 
 The King grows despondent on account of failing 
 health and the northern insurrection. He cannot be 
 persuaded but that the rebels will menace his throne; 
 and he bemoans the wars which prevent his crusade to 
 the Holy Land.
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 IV. The insurgent army under the Archbishop of 
 York faces the royal forces of Prince John in Gaultree 
 Forest, Yorkshire. The latter, instead of hazarding a 
 general engagement, invites the rising chieftains to a 
 conference, in which he promises redress of their alleged 
 grievances, proclaims peace, and urges a dispersion of 
 both armies. The insurgents take him at his word and 
 dismiss their forces; whereupon the perfidious prince, 
 who had previously given secret instructions to his own 
 army to fall upon the scattered insurgent bands, seizes 
 on the persons of York and the other rebel leaders and 
 condemns them to be executed for treason. The news 
 of the discomfiture of the insurgent army is carried to 
 the sick King, who, however, is too feeble to evince 
 much interest in the tidings. He sinks rapidly. The 
 Prince of Wales is summoned from his tavern circle to 
 attend his father, whom he finds in a stupor, with the 
 crown beside him on the pillow. Believing him to be 
 dead, the Prince removes the crown to another room — 
 and thereby incurs the bitter reproaches of the King, 
 who believes his son desirous of his death. Prince 
 Henry justifies his conduct, and the two are reconciled. 
 
 V. Shortly afterwards Henry IV. passes away, and 
 the Prince of Wales is crowned Henry V. No sooner 
 does he assume his regal dignities than he dismisses from 
 his society Sir John Falstaff and his convivial crew, and 
 resolves henceforth to prove worthy of his high of^ce. 
 
 McSpadden : Shakespearian Synopses. 
 
 II. 
 
 Falstaff. 
 
 A man w'ith a great flow of animal spirits is sometimes, 
 especially if he is liable to sudden bursts of this exuber- 
 ance, mistaken to be under the influence of wine. Fal- 
 staff's average rate of mirth is so high that wine refuses 
 to contest it. The blood of his vein can afford to be
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 handicapped against the blood of the grape. The mon- 
 strous quantities of sack sink through the porosities of his 
 rotundity, and mildly percolate a subterranean world; so 
 that his abstinence in the article of bread is a very nice 
 instinct that balancing bulk enough exists already. 
 
 Falstaff, by every ordinary law of human nature, 
 should be inebriated. His exemption is a kind of athe- 
 ism. But he prefers to have his own vices overdone 
 in the persons of his companions, all of whom seem to 
 have anticipated the sanitary argument in favor of the 
 use of liquor that an American suggested: " If water 
 will rot a cedar-post, what will it do to the human 
 stomach!" . . . 
 
 Sir John does not intend to be readily put down. In 
 the matter of arrest at Dame Quickly's suit for debt, 
 how airily he gives the Chief Justice tap for tap, and 
 urges that the officers are hindering him from going on 
 the King's errand! He is hard to get fairly cooped in a 
 corner; most invaluable counsel to defend a ring, big 
 enough to break through the most carefully woven in- 
 dictment. When you think you have him neatly at bay, 
 the bulky culprit floats over your head in a twinkling 
 of resource and is gone: it is done so cleverly that you 
 have not the heart to pursue him farther, or, if you do, 
 it is only for the sake of enjoying an encore of this 
 trapeze-shifting of his wit. 
 
 It is comic when his tone of protestation that he will 
 discharge his debt to Dame Quickly succeeds in taking 
 in her who has been so often deceived before. But 
 one weakness is always too strong for another; so he 
 is constantly betrayed into expense by her, and that 
 is at once her vice and its reward. " I owe her money; 
 and whether she be damned for that I know not." 
 
 It is also comic that his vanity prevents him from 
 suspecting himself of cowardice and evasion of duty; 
 so that he indulges the most inflated self-appreciation, 
 and no misadventure is sharp enough to prick it. 
 *' Embowelled! 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit."
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And his fright inspires him with the adage dear ever 
 since to shirkers, " The better part of valor is discre- 
 tion " ; and it has a sensible purport which blinds him to 
 his own disgrace. '' There is not a dangerous action," 
 complains he to the Chief Justice, " but I am thrust upon 
 it. Well, I cannot last ever. But it was always yet the 
 trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, 
 to make it too common. I would to God, my name were 
 not so terrible to the enemy as it is." Does he really 
 think his bullying style is a perpetual action of bravery, 
 or is he delighting to be ironical upon himself? 
 
 Now Falstaff's mind has many a talent which liber- 
 ates it from the grossness of his body. His wit shows 
 a nimble foot of fancy. His common sense is an acute 
 ally of his cowardice. The imagination which betrays 
 him into the largeness of his lying goes into the felicity 
 of his wit: both are on an ample scale. He rallies Bar- 
 dolpli for his complexion, and overwhelms his ragged 
 company with comparisons, just as his men in buckram 
 grow in number. When his fancy seizes an opportunity 
 he cannot let it go, but unconsciously shifts it into all 
 possible lights, and exhausts invention to make the point 
 emphatic. How many imaginative people there are who 
 unconsciously lie in the same way. 
 
 Weiss: IF/V, Humor, and Shakspearc. 
 
 Alike the same incongruous, identical Falstaff, whether 
 to the grave Chief Justice he vainly talks of his youth 
 and ofifers to caper for a thousand, or cries to ]\lrs. Doll, 
 " I am old! I am old! " although she is seated on his 
 lap, and he is courting her for busses. . . . There 
 is no such thing as totally demolishing Falstaff; he has 
 so much of the invulnerable in his frame that no ridicule 
 can destroy him; he is safe even in defeat, and seems 
 to rise, like another Ant?eus, with recruited vigour at 
 every fall. 
 MoRGANN : The Dramatic Character of Sir John FahtaW.
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 III. 
 Falstaff and Panurge Compared. 
 
 It is certain, of course, that neither Calderon nor 
 Moliere knew anything of Shakespeare or of Falstaff; 
 and Shakespeare, for his part, was equally uninfluenced 
 by any of his predecessors on the comic stage, when he 
 conceived his fat knight. 
 
 Nevertheless, there is among Shakespeare's predeces 
 sors a great writer, one of the greatest, with whom we 
 cannot but compare him; to wit, Rabelais, the master 
 spirit of the early Renaissance in France. He is, more 
 over, one of the few great writers with whom Shake- 
 speare is known to have been acquainted. He alludes 
 to him in As You Like It (III. ii.), where Celia says, when 
 Rosalind asks her a dozen questions and bids her answer 
 in one word : " You must borrow me Gargantua's 
 mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this 
 age's size." 
 
 If we compare Falstaff with Panurge, we see that 
 Rabelais stands to Shakespeare in the relation of a Titan 
 to an Olympian god. Rabelais is gigantic, dispropor- 
 tioned, potent, but formless. Shakespeare is smaller 
 and less excessive, poorer in ideas, though richer in 
 fancies, and moulded with the utmost firmness of out- 
 line. 
 
 Rabelais died at the age of seventy, ten years before 
 Shakespeare was born; there is between them all the 
 difference between the morning and the noon of the 
 Renaissance. Rabelais is a poet, philosopher, polemist, 
 reformer, " even to the very fire exclusively," but al- 
 ways threatened with the stake. Shakespeare's coarse- 
 ness compared with Rabelais's is as a manure-bed com- 
 pared with the Cloaca Maxima. Burlesque uncleanness 
 pours in floods from the Frenchman's pen. 
 
 His Panurge is larger than Falstaff, as Utgard-Loki 15
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 larger than Asa-Loki. Panurge, like Falstaff, is loqua- 
 cious, witty, crafty, and utterly unscrupulous, a humour- 
 ist who stops the mouths of all around him by unblush- 
 ing effrontery. In war, Panurge is not more of a hero 
 than Falstaff, but, like Falstaff, he stabs the foemen who 
 have already fallen. He is superstitious, yet his buf- 
 foonery holds nothing sacred, and he steals from the 
 church-plate. He is thoroughly selfish, sensual, and 
 slothful, shameless, revengeful, and light-fingered, and 
 as time goes on becomes ever a greater poltroon and 
 braggart. 
 
 Pantagruel is the noble knight, a king's son, like 
 Prince Henry. Like the Prince, he has one foible: he 
 cannot resist the attractions of low company. When 
 Panurge is witty, Pantagruel cannot deny himself th'- 
 pleasure of laughing at his side-splitting drolleries. 
 
 But Panurge, unlike Falstaff, is a satire on the largest 
 scale. In representing him as a notable economist or 
 master of finance, wlio calls borrowing credit-creating, 
 and has 63 methods of raising money and 214 methods 
 of spending it, Rabelais made him an abstract and brief 
 chronicle of the French court of his day. In giving him 
 a yearly revenue from his barony of " 6,789,106,789 
 royaulx en deniers certain," to say nothing of the fluc- 
 tuating revenue of the locusts and periwinkles, " montant 
 bon an mal an de 2,435,768 a 2,435,769 moutons a la 
 grande laine," Rabelais was aiming his satire direct at the 
 unblushing extortion which was at that time the glory and 
 delight of the French feudal nobility. 
 
 Shakespeare does not venture so far in the direction 
 of satire. He is only a poet, and as a poet stands sim- 
 ply on the defensive. The only power he can be said 
 to attack is Puritanism {Twelfth Night, Measure for 
 Measure, etc.), and that only in self-defence. His at- 
 tacks, too, are exceedingly mild in comparison with 
 those of the Cavalier poets before the victory of Puri- 
 tanism and after the reopening of the theatres. But 
 Shakespeare was what Rabelais was not, an artist; and 
 
 6
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 as an artist he was a very Prometheus in his power 
 of creating human beings. 
 
 Brandes : WilliajH Shakespeare. 
 
 IV. 
 Hostess QuicKly. 
 
 We have already had several glimpses of Mrs. Quickly, 
 the heroine of Eastcheap. She is well worth a steady 
 and attentive looking at. One of the most character- 
 istic passages in the play is her account of Falstaff's debt 
 to her; which has been aptly commented on by Cole- 
 *ridge as showing how her mind runs altogether in the 
 rut of actual events ; that she can think and speak of 
 things only in the precise order of their occurrence; 
 having no power to select such as are suited to her pur- 
 pose, and detach them from the circumstantial imperti- 
 nences with which they stand associated in her memory. 
 
 In strict keeping with this peculiarity of mind, her 
 character throughout savours strongly of her where- 
 about in life, and is curiously elemented from her cir- 
 cumstances: she is plentifully trimmed up with vices 
 and vulgarities, and they all taste rankly of her place 
 and calling, thus showing that she has as much of 
 moral as of intellectual passiveness. Notwithstanding, 
 somehow she always has an odour of womanhood about 
 her: even her worst features are such as none but a 
 woman could have; or at least they are greatly miti- 
 gated in her case by their marriage wnth a woman's 
 nature. Nor is her character, with all its ludicrous and 
 censurable qualities, unrelieved, as we have seen, with 
 touches of generosity that relish equally of her sex, 
 though not so much of her situation. It is even ques- 
 tionable whether she would have entertained Sir John's 
 proposals so favourably, but 'that when he made them 
 he was in a condition to need her kindness ; and when 
 her " exion is enter'd " against him, she seems to move
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 quite as much from affection for him as from desire of 
 tlie money. And who but a woman could speak such 
 words of fluttering eagerness as she speaks in urging 
 on his arrest : " Do your offices, do your offices, master 
 Fang and master Snare ; do me, do me, do me your of- 
 fices " ; where her very rekictance to act prompts her 
 to the greater despatch, and her heart seems palpitating 
 with anxious hope that what she is doing will make 
 another opportunity for her kind ministrations. Some- 
 times, indeed, she gets wrought up to a pretty high 
 pitch of temper, but she cannot hold herself there; and 
 between her turns of anger and her returns to the oppo- 
 site there is room for more of womanly feeling than 
 we shall venture to describe. And there is still more 
 of the woman in the cunning simplicity — or is it simple- 
 nes6? — with which she manages to keep her good opin- 
 ion of Sir John ; as when, upon being told that at his 
 death " he cried out of women, and said they were devils 
 incarnate," she repHes, " A' never could abide carnation*, 
 'twas a colour he never liked " ; as if she could nowise 
 understand his words but in such a sense as would stand 
 smooth with her interest and her affection. 
 
 It is curious to observe how Mrs. Quickly dwells 
 on the confines of virtue and shame, and sometimes plays 
 over the borders, ever clinging to the reputation and 
 perhaps to the consciousness of the one, without fore- 
 closing the invitations to the other. Nor may we dis- 
 miss her without remarking how in her w^orst doings 
 she apparently hides from herself their ill favour under 
 a fair name; as people often paint the cheeks of their 
 vices, and then look them sweetly in the face, though 
 they cannot but know the paint is all that keeps them 
 from being unsightly and loathsome. In her case, how- 
 ever, this may spring in part from a simplicity not unlike 
 that which sometimes makes children shut their eyes 
 at what affrights them, and then think themselves safe. 
 Upon the whole, Mrs. Quickly must be set down as 
 one of the wicked; the Poet evidently meant her so: 
 
 8
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 and in mixing so much of good with the general prepon- 
 derance of bad in her character, he has shown a rare 
 spirit of wisdom, such as may well remind us that " both 
 good men and bad men are apt to be less so than they 
 seem." 
 
 Hudson : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 V. 
 Shallow and Silence. 
 
 After Falstafif, the most perfect characters in the play 
 are Shallow and Silence, the Gloucestershire justices. 
 Here again we have Shakespeare's astonishing power in 
 individuality-portraiture. It is impossible to conceive a 
 stronger contrast, a more direct antipodes in mental 
 structure than he has achieved between FalstafT and 
 Shallow ; the one all intellect, all acuteness of perception 
 and fancy, and the other, the justice, a mere compound of 
 fatuity, a caput mortiiiiin of understanding. Not only is 
 Shallow distinguished by his eternal babble, talking " in- 
 finite nothings " ; but with the flabby vivacity, the idiotic 
 restlessness, that not unfrequently accompany this class 
 of mind (if such a being may be said to possess mind 
 at all), he not only tattles on — " whirr, whirr, whirr," like 
 a ventilator, but he fills up the chinks in his sentences 
 with repetitions, as blacksmiths continue to tap the anvil 
 in the intervals of turning the iron upon it. But Shake- 
 speare has presented us with a still stronger quality of as- 
 sociation in minds of Shallow's calibre, that of asking 
 questions everlastingly, and instantly giving evidence 
 that the replies have not sunk even skin-deep with t4iem, 
 rushing on from subject to subject, and returning again 
 to those that have been dismissed. . . . 
 
 His provincial habit of life is also indicated by his 
 constant recurrence to his metropolitan days — the " mad 
 days that he had spent at Clement's Inn." The idea of 
 Shallow having been a roysterer at any period of his life! 
 
 9
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 the very constitution of the man's mind confutes his 
 boast, without the testimony of Falstaff; and that is the 
 finest burlesque portrait that ever was drawn : — 
 
 "This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate of the 
 wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull 
 Street, and every third word a He, duer paid to the hearer than 
 the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement's Inn, Hke 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 fantas- 
 tically carved upon it with a knife. He was so forlorn that his 
 dimensions to any thick sight were invisible : he was the very 
 genius of famine ; you might have thrust him and all his apparel 
 into an eel-skin : — the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for 
 him — a court ! " 
 
 There is no point in which Falstafif's wit glows more 
 brilliantly than in that remarkable power of exaggeration, 
 and the above (a portion only of the entire portrait) is 
 a confirmatory specimen. 
 
 Silence is an embryo of a man — a* molecule — a gradua- 
 tion from nonentity towards intellectual being — a man 
 dwelling in the suburbs of sense, groping about in the 
 twilight of apprehension and understanding. He is the 
 second stage in the "Vestiges"; he has just emerged 
 from the tadpole state. Here again a distinction is pre- 
 served between these two characters. Shallow gabbles 
 on from mere emptiness; while Silence, from the same 
 incompetence, rarely gets beyond the shortest replies. 
 The firmament of his wonder and adoration are the say- 
 ings and doings of his cousin and brother-justice at 
 Clement's Inn, and which he has been in the constant 
 habit of hearing, without satiety and nausea, for half a 
 century. With one of those side-wind indications for 
 which Shakespeare is remarkable, we are informed 
 through Silence that Shallow has ever been repeating the 
 stories of his London days : — 
 
 Silence. That 's fifty-five year ago. 
 
 Shallozv. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this 
 knight and I have seen ! — Ha, Sir John, said I well ? 
 
 10
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 At another time he says, as though Silence had been 
 now first introduced to him, " I was once of Clement's 
 Inn, where I think they will talk of ' mad Shallow ' yet." 
 Silence. You were called lusty Shallow then, cousin. 
 
 Like a provincial-bred man, also, Silence thinks no he- 
 roes can be so great as those of his own neighbourhood. 
 When, therefore, Pistol, in announcing the death of the 
 old king, says to Falstafif, " Sweet knight, thou art one 
 of the greatest men in the realm," Silence assents from 
 politeness, hut with a reservation — " By 'r Lady, I think 
 he be, but Goodman Puff of Barson." Again, when thev 
 are all at dinner, and Silence waxes drunk, he suddenly 
 falls to singing, so that Falstaff says, " I did not think 
 Master Silence had been a man of this mettle." 
 Silence. Who, I ! I have been merry twice and once, ere now. 
 
 It is noticeable, too. that even this scene of conviviality 
 does not draw him out to the achievement of an entire 
 song; but he trolls out odds and ends, which he asso- 
 ciates with the last words he hears in the conversation. 
 Shallow says, " Be merry, Master Bardolph : [and to 
 Falstaff's page] my little soldier there, be merry." 
 Silence. [Sings] Be merry, be merry, my wife has all. 
 
 Charles Cowden Clarke : Shakespeare Characters, 
 
 VI. 
 
 Prince Henry. 
 
 For Prince Hal : we have one unworthy scene, two 
 worthy ones. The shadow of his father's death-sick- 
 ness is on him, and he goes for relief — half disgusted 
 with himself — (feeling that every one would call him a 
 hypocrite if he looked sorry) to his old, loose compan- 
 ions. But there's not much enjoyment in his forced 
 mirth. He feels ashamed of himself, and soon leaves 
 Falstaff and his old life forever — '' let the end try the 
 man," as he says. It is clear that he now feels the degra- 
 dation of being Falstaff's friend and Poins's reputed 
 
 II
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 brother-in-law. On hearing of the war again, as in 
 Part I., he changes at a touch, and is himself. The next 
 time we see him is by his father's sick bed, and again he 
 wins to him his father's l-^eart. But surely by a bit of 
 Falstaff-like cleverness and want of truth. Compare 
 his first speech to the crow^n with his second giving an 
 account of it to his father. But one part of that first 
 speech he meant: that he 'd hold his crown against the 
 world's whole strength; and that was what King Henry 
 wanted. When Hal becomes king, his treatment of his 
 brothers, the Chief Justice, and Falstaff is surely wise 
 and right, in all three cases. One does feel for Falstaff; 
 but certainly what he ought to have had he got — the 
 chance of reformation. What other reception could 
 Henry, in the midst of his new state, give in public to 
 the diity, slovenly, debauched old sinner who thrust 
 himself upon him, than the rebuke he did? Any other 
 course would have rendered the King's own professed 
 reform absurd. 
 
 FuRNivALL : The Leopold Shakspere. 
 
 VII. 
 
 King Henry. 
 
 The person of the Prince is brought so much into the 
 foreground in Henry IV. that the unity, which arises 
 bv concentrating the interest in the chief figure, is dis- 
 turbed; we do not know whether the father or the son 
 is to be considred the hero of the play. But apart from 
 the inner necessity of pointing out, in the drama, the 
 goal towards which the course of events is tending, this 
 very division of the personal interest belongs to the 
 character of the times represented, to the character of 
 the reign of Henry IV., nay, to the very character of 
 King Henry himself. A person like him is incapable 
 of drawing all interest upon himself: all his actions, his 
 inmost being is divided in itself. He is one of those 
 
 12
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 characters who can excite interest only by their close 
 connection with other entirely different natures; it is 
 only when contrasted with characters such as Richard 
 11. or Henry Percy and his own son, who is so unlike 
 himself, that his nature acquires light and significance 
 enough for us to take an interest in him. . . . He 
 becomes more and more gloomy; he lives without 
 having any pleasure in life on account of his increasing 
 trouble about establishing his royal power, and the op- 
 pressive anxiety about the strange doings of his ap- 
 parently degenerate son. He dies in the feeling of 
 having striven and struggled in vain to obliterate the 
 wrong that is attached to his throne. 
 
 Yet he dies in the proud, outward possession of his 
 sovereignty; his rebellious barons have not succeeded 
 in lessening his power in the slightest degree. 
 
 Ulrici : Shakspeare's Dramatic Art. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 "Disreputable but Immortal." 
 
 What are the exaggerated tragical trappings with 
 which Pistol flourishes over his vileness but the badges 
 of a masquerade that in principle at least is a parallel 
 to that of the King. An attempt more modest but hap- 
 pier on the whole is the vapouring of Lieutenant Bar- 
 dolph, swearing "by Heaven," and adventuring an at- 
 tempt at camp slang and the air of a soldier where he 
 is not known. Justice Shallow for his part dresses up a 
 fictitious image of the wildness of his youth and puts up 
 a pretension to dissoluteness and violence which his will 
 may have been equal to but his power never, and even 
 Silence would fain assert a toper's glory which neither 
 his head nor his spirits are capable of. I may pass 
 over the smoothpated eidolon, Master Dumbleton, who 
 could bear a gentleman in hand and then stand upon 
 
 13 •
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 security, but who can pass over the ever persevering 
 and ever self-betraying seemHness of Hostess Quickly? 
 In her care to keep up appearances as a principle of her 
 profession as ostensible tavern-keeper, in her sober man- 
 nered anxiety to conserve the seemly for herself as for 
 all about her, she is forever falling into unhappinesses 
 of expression that suggest the state of the fact even to 
 those who would forget it, commits herself coolly to the 
 plumpest asseverations of overdone lies, or in all sim- 
 plicity and pure intent to dsiclaim her true character and 
 calling, admits and publishes it in absolute terms. The 
 Page's description of Mistress Doll Tearsheet as a proper 
 gentlewoman and a kinswoman of his master's, evidently 
 came from a Mistress Quickly not unrelated to the 
 housekeeper of Dr. Caius, who reserved the world's 
 truth for old folks who know the world and held it con- 
 science still to put off children with a nayword. The 
 well-intentioned creature would be a hypocrite if she 
 could, and indeed she seems to have made some prog- 
 ress in making a first dupe of herself; but here it is like 
 to end, for more than good will is required in the mat- 
 ter, and infirm dialectics and haphazard haste convict her 
 from her own lips by inevitable propensity, and leave her 
 no chance of a second. Mrs. Quickly and Doll Tear- 
 sheet embody between them the moral, if we may so speak, 
 of the London Police reports and all sheets of night 
 charges from the days of Queen Elizabeth to the Times 
 newspaper of this current date. 
 
 Lloyd: Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Two Parts and the Whole. 
 
 It [2 Henry IV.] is inferior to its predecessor [i 
 Henry /F.] as a work of dramatic art, though, in my 
 judgement, not at all so as a work of genius. ... Its 
 noble-r characters have much less of chivalric and ro- 
 
 24
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 mantic splendour, and its action less oi stage interest 
 and effect, and its poetry far less of kindling- and ex- 
 citing fervour. On this account it has long disappeared 
 as a whole from the stage; but portions of it are familiar 
 even to those whose knowledge of Shakespeare is ac- 
 quired only from the stage, having been interwoven by 
 Cibber, or some other manufacturer of the " acted 
 drama," into the action of Richard III. Other portions, 
 like the King's invocation to sleep, the Archbishop's 
 meditation on the instability of popular favour. Lady 
 Percy's lament for Hotspur, and the last scene between- 
 the Prince and his father, have sunk deep into thousands 
 of hearts, and live in the general memory. Nor is the 
 entire graver dialogue unworthy of these gems with 
 which it is studded; for it is throughout rich in thought, 
 noble and impressive in style, and the characters it pre- 
 sents are drawn, if not with the same bold freedom and 
 pointed invention as in the first part, yet with undimin- 
 ished truth and discrimination. 
 
 But on the comic side of the play there is no flagging 
 either of spirit or invention. On the contrary, the 
 humour, if perhaps less lively and sparkling, is still more 
 rich and copious. It overflows on all sides. The return 
 of a character of comic invention in a second part is a 
 hard test of originality and fertility, which even Don 
 Quixote and Gil Bias did not stand without some loss of 
 the charm of our first acquaintance with them. Falstaff s 
 humour, as well that which he exhibits in his character 
 as that which he utters, is more copious, more luxuriously 
 mirthful, and — if the phrase may be allowed — more 
 unctuous than ever. Those of his companions, whose ac- 
 quaintance we made in the first part, lose nothing of their 
 droll effect; and our new acquaintances. Shallow, Silence, 
 etc., are still more amusing. The scenes in which these 
 last figure give us a delightful peep into the habits of the 
 rural gentry of old England, and, as mere history, are 
 worth volumes of antiquarian research. 
 
 Verplanck : The Illustrated Shakespeare. 
 
 IS
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 None of Shakspeare's plays are more read than the 
 first and second parts of Henry IV. Perhaps no author 
 has ever, in two plays, afforded so much delight. The 
 great events are interesting, for the fate of kingdoms de- 
 pends upon them ; the slightest occurrences are divert- 
 ing, and, except one or two, sufficiently probable. The in- 
 cidents are multiplied with wonderful fertility of inven- 
 tion, and the characters diversified with the utmost nicety 
 of discernment and the profoundest skill in the nature of 
 man. 
 Johnson: General Observations on Shakspeare's Plays. 
 
 The second part of Henry n\ is at once the supple- 
 ment and epilogue of the first part, and the preparation 
 for the ensuing dramatic history of Henry V. We may, 
 I think, still detect some traces of the manner in which 
 the materials for the history of Henry IV. developed and 
 expanded in the Poet's mind until they became not 
 simply too bulky for a single play, but until they divided 
 by natural polarity into distinct groups and resulted in 
 the double birth of contrasted but still closely connected 
 and correlative plays. Thus, in the second play we find 
 Falstaff passing through Gloucestershire by some incred- 
 ible route from London to York, a divergence far too 
 wide to be accounted for by his having to take up soldiers 
 in counties as he went. The incident as first imagined 
 came in no doubt in the earlier sequence of events when 
 King Henrv despatching forces toward Wales tells his 
 son " and, Harry, you shall march through Gloucester- 
 shire " ; a natural course for Falstaff to follow, and so for 
 both to encounter in the Poet's own Warwickshire on the 
 road near Coventry. The consistency on this view holds 
 on and the next stage is indicated towards Sutton Cold- 
 field, picturesque municipality still lying under as bright 
 a sky as of old, beside the beauty and privilege of its 
 wide pastoral park, though the smoke and clamours of 
 Birmingham reach the very edge of its horizon. Hence 
 
 i6
 
 KING HENRY IV. Comments 
 
 we cannot doubt that the tattered troop that Falstaff 
 sends to Coventry — thus we still specify a dead cut — 
 comprised in the Poet's first invention Wart and his 
 wardrobe, to the process of whose enlistment the 
 soliloquy on the abuse of the king's press applies so en- 
 tirely, and that Shallow and his household were already 
 shaped and shadowed forth, though afterwards for ample 
 reasons transferred to the later scene. 
 
 Lloyd: Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 The political movements of Henry IV.'s reign, as told 
 by Shakespeare's standard authorities, Holinshed and 
 Hall, offered little salient matter for the dramatist. 
 Nevertheless it is here that he most decisively abandons 
 the boldly reconstructive methods of Marlowe; here that 
 he unfolds with most consummate power his own 
 method, of creating character and detail within the limits 
 of a general fidelity to recorded fact. His most direct di- 
 vergences from the tale of the chroniclers amount to 
 little more than compressions of isolated and scattered 
 event. But he supplements their tale and interprets their 
 silence with a prodigal magnificence of invention unap- 
 proached in the other Histories. Hence Henry IV. pre- 
 sents analogies to the group of brilliant Comedies with 
 which it was nearly contemporary, not only in its obvious 
 wealth of comic genius, but in the points at which this is 
 exercised. The historic matter, like the serious story of 
 Twelfth Night or Much Ado, is taken over without sub- 
 stantial change; while within its meshes plays a lambent 
 humour which, ostensibly subordinate and by the way, 
 in reality reveals the finer significance of the derived 
 story itself, and forms, as literature, the crowning glory of 
 the whole. 
 
 Herford : The Eversley Shakespeare. 
 
 17
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 Rumour, the Presenter. 
 King Henry the Fourth. 
 Henry, Prince of Wales, "^ 
 
 afterwards King Henry V., \ 
 
 Thomas, Duke of Clarence, ^ his sons. 
 
 Prince John of Lancaster, \ 
 
 Prince Humphrey of Gloucester, J 
 Earl of Warwick, 
 Earl of Westmoreland. 
 Earl of Surrey. 
 Gower. 
 Harcourt. 
 Blunt. 
 
 Lord Chief-Justice of the King's Bench. 
 A Servant of the Chief-Justice. 
 Earl of Northumberland. 
 Scroop, Archbishop of York. 
 Lord Mowbray. 
 Lord Hastings. 
 Lord Bardolph. 
 Sir John Colville, 
 
 Travers and Morton, retainers of Northumberland. 
 Sir John Falstaff, 
 His Page. 
 Bardolph. 
 Pistol. 
 Poins. 
 ^ Peto. 
 
 iSttftALL'DW, , • ,• 
 
 7, ' country justices. 
 
 Silence, 
 
 Davy, servant to Shallow. 
 
 Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, and Bullcalf, recruits. 
 
 Fang and Snare, sheritf's oiHccrs. 
 
 Lady Northumberland. 
 
 Lady Percy. 
 
 Mistress Quickly, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap. 
 
 Doll Tearsheet. 
 
 Lords and Attendants ; Porter. Drawers. Beadles, Grooms, etc. 
 A Dancer, speaker of the Epilogue. 
 
 Scene: England. 
 18
 
 The Second Part of 
 King Henry IV. 
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 Warkivorth. Before the castle. 
 
 Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues. 
 
 Rum. Open your ears; for which of you will stop 
 The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? 
 I, from the orient to the drooping west, 
 Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
 The acts commenced on this ball of earth: 
 Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, 
 The which in every language I pronounce, 
 Stufhng the ears of men with false reports. 
 I speak of peace, while covert enmity 
 Under the smile of safety wounds the world: lo 
 And who but Rumour, who but only I, 
 Make fearful musters and prepared defence. 
 Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, 
 Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war. 
 And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe 
 Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, 
 And of so easy and so plain a stop 
 That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, 
 The still-discordant wavering multitude, 
 Can play upon it. But what need I thus 20 
 
 My well-known body to anatomize 
 
 19
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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 ofiice is 
 
 To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell 
 
 Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, 30 
 
 And that the king before the Douglas' rage 
 
 Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. 
 
 This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns 
 
 Between that royal field of Shrewsbury 
 
 And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, 
 
 Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, 
 
 Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, 
 
 And not a man of them brings other news 
 
 Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's 
 
 tongues 
 They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true 
 
 wrongs. [Exit. 40 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 The same. 
 Enter Lord Bardolph. 
 L. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho? 
 TJic porter opens the gate. 
 
 Where is the earl? 
 Port. What shall I say you are? 
 L. Bard. Tell thou the earl 
 
 20
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. 
 Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard: 
 Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, 
 And he himself will answer. 
 
 Enter Northumberland. 
 
 L. Bard. Here comes the earl. 
 
 [Exit Porter. 
 
 North. What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now 
 Should be the father of some stratagem: 
 The times are wild; contention, like a horse 
 Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, lo 
 
 And bears down all before him. 
 
 L. Bard. Noble earl, 
 
 I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. 
 
 North. Good, an God will! 
 
 L. Bard. As good as heart can wish: 
 
 The king is almost wounded to the death; 
 And, in the fortune of m.j lord your son, 
 Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts 
 Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John 
 And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; 
 And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, 
 Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, 20 
 
 So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, 
 Came not till now to dignify the times. 
 Since Caesar's fortunes! 
 
 North. How is this derived? 
 
 Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? 
 
 L. Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from 
 thence, 
 A gentleman well bred and of good name,
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 That freely render'd me these news for true. 
 North. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent 
 On Tuesday last to listen after news. 
 
 Enter Travers. 
 
 L. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way : 30 
 
 And he is furnish'd with no certainties 
 More than he haply may retail from me. 
 
 North. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? 
 
 Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back 
 With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, 
 Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard 
 A gentleman, almost forspent with speed. 
 That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. 
 He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him 
 I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: 40 
 
 He told me that rebellion had bad luck, 
 And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. 
 With that, he gave his able horse the head. 
 And bending forward struck his armed heels 
 Against the panting sides of his poor jade 
 Up to the rowel-head, and starting so 
 He seem'd in running to devour the way, 
 Staying no longer question. 
 
 North. Ha! Again: 
 
 Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? 
 
 Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion 50 
 
 Had met ill luck? 
 
 L. Bard. My lord, I '11 tell you what; 
 
 If my young lord your son have not the day, 
 Upon mine honour, for a silken point 
 I '11 give my barony : never talk of it. 
 22
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 North. Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers 
 Give them such instances of loss? 
 
 L. Bard. Who, he? 
 
 He was some hilding fellow that had stolen 
 The horse he rode on, and, upon my life. 
 Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. 
 
 Enter Morton. 
 
 North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 60 
 
 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: 
 So looks the strond whereon the imperious flood 
 Hath left a witness'd usurpation. 
 Say, IMorton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? 
 
 Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; 
 Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask 
 To fright our party. 
 
 North. How doth my son and brother? 
 
 Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek 
 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
 Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 70 
 
 So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone. 
 Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night. 
 And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; 
 But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue. 
 And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. 
 This thou wouldst say, ' Your son did thus and 
 
 thus ; 
 Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas: ' 
 Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds : 
 But in the end, to stop my ear indeed. 
 Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise. 80 
 
 Ending with ' Brother, son, and all are dead.' 
 
 23
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Alor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; 
 But, for my lord your son, — 
 
 North. Why, he is dead. 
 
 See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! 
 He that but fears the thing he would not know 
 Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes 
 That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; 
 Tell thou an earl his divination lies. 
 And I will take it as a sweet disgrace. 
 And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. 90 
 
 Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: 
 Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. 
 
 North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. 
 I see a strange confession in thine eye: 
 Thou shakest thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin 
 To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so ; 
 The tongue offends not that reports his death: 
 And he doth sin that doth belie the dead. 
 Not he which says the dead is not alive. 
 Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news 100 
 
 Hath but a losing office, and his tongue 
 Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 
 Remember'd tolling a departing friend. 
 
 L. Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. 
 
 Alor. I am sorry I should force you to believe 
 That which I would to God I had not seen; 
 But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, 
 Rendering faint quittance, wearied and outbreathed, 
 To Harry Monmouth ; whose swift wrath beat down 
 The never-daunted Percy to the earth, no 
 
 From whence with life he never more sprung up. 
 In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire 
 
 24
 
 KiNb HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 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 st'eel'd; 
 
 Which once in him abated, all the rest 
 
 Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: 
 
 And as the thing that 's heavy in itself, 
 
 Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, 120 
 
 So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, 
 
 Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear 
 
 That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim 
 
 Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety. 
 
 Fly from the field. Then was that noble 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 and did grace the shame 
 
 Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, 130 
 
 Stumbling in fear, we 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. 
 Being sick, have in some measure made me well: 
 And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, 140 
 Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, 
 Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire 
 Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, 
 Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, 
 
 25
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice 
 
 crutcli ! 
 A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel 
 Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! 
 Thou are a guard too wanton for the head 
 Which princes, fiesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. 
 Now bind my brows with iron ; and approach 150 
 The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring 
 To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! 
 Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand 
 Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! 
 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! 160 
 
 Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. 
 
 L. Bar-d. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your 
 honour. 
 
 Mor. The lives of all your loving complices 
 
 Lean on your health ; the which, if you give o'er 
 To stormy passion, must perforce decay. 
 You cast the event of war, my noble lord. 
 And summ'd the account of chance, before you said 
 ' Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, 
 That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: 
 You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an Q(\gt, 170 
 
 More likely to fall in than to get o'er; 
 You were advised his flesh was capable 
 Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit 
 Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: 
 26
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 Yet did you say ' Go forth ' : and none of this. 
 Though strongly apprehended, could restrain 
 The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, 
 Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, 
 More than that being which was like to be? 
 
 L. Bard. We all that are engaged to this loss i8o 
 
 Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas 
 That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one ; 
 And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed 
 Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; 
 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 
 A\'itli well-appointed powers: he is a man 190 
 
 Who with a double surety binds his followers. 
 Aly lord your son had only but the corpse, 
 But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; 
 For that same word, rebellion, did divide 
 The action of their bodies from their souls; 
 And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, 
 As men drink potions, that their weapons only 
 Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls. 
 This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, 
 As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop 200 
 
 Turns insurrection to religion: 
 Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts. 
 He 's followed both with body and with mind; 
 And doth enlarge his rising with the blood 
 Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; 
 Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; 
 
 27
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, 
 Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; 
 And more and less do flock to follow him. 
 North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, 210 
 This present grief had wiped 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 Falstaif, ivith his Page bearing his 
 sivord and buckler. 
 
 FoL Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my 
 water? 
 
 Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good 
 healthy water; but, for the party that owed 
 it, he might have moe diseases than he knew 
 for. 
 
 Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the 
 brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is 
 not able to invent any thing that tends to 
 laughter, more than I invent or is invented on 10 
 me : I am not only witty in myself, but the cause 
 that wit is in other men. I do here walk before 
 thee like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her 
 litter but one. If the prince put thee into m)' 
 service for any other reason than to set me oflf, 
 why then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson 
 28
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap 
 than to wait at my heels. I was never manned 
 with an agate till now : but I will inset you 
 neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, 
 and send you back again to your master, for a 
 jewel, — the juvenal, the prince your master, 
 whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner 
 have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than 
 he shall get one on his cheek ; and yet he will 
 not stick to say his face is a face-royal : God 
 may finish it when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss 
 yet: he may keep it still a face-royal, for a 
 barber shall never earn sixpence out of it ; and 
 yet he '11 be crowing as if he had writ man ever 30 
 since his father was a bachelor. He may keep 
 his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, I 
 can assure him. What said Master Dombledom 
 about the satin for my short cloak and my slops ? 
 
 Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better 
 assurance than Bardolph : he would not take his 
 band and yours ; he liked not the security. 
 
 Fal. Let him be damned, like the glutton ! pray God 
 his tongue be hotter ! A whoreson Achitophel ! 
 a rascally yea-forsooth knave ! to bear a gentle- 40 
 man in hand, and then stand upon security! 
 The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear 
 nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys 
 at their girdles ; and if a man is through with 
 them in honest taking up, then they must stand 
 upon security. I had as lief they would put 
 ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with 
 security. I looked a' should have sent me two 
 29
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, 
 and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep 50 
 in security ; for he hath the horn of abundance, 
 and the lightness of his wife shines through it : 
 and yet cannot he see, though he have his own 
 lanthorn to light him. Where 's Bardolph ? 
 
 Page. He 's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship 
 a horse. 
 
 Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he '11 buy me a 
 horse in Smithfield : an I could get me but a 
 wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and 
 wived. 60 
 
 Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Servant. 
 
 Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed 
 the prince for striking him about Bardolph. 
 
 Fal. Wait close ; I will not see him. 
 
 Ch. Just. What 's he that goes there? 
 
 Serv. Falstaff, an 't please your lordship. 
 
 Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery ? 
 
 Serz'. 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 
 Lancaster. yo 
 
 Ch. Just. W^hat, to York? Call him back again. 
 
 Serz'. Sir John Falstafi* ! 
 
 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 wnth him. 
 
 Serz'. Sir John.
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 Fal. What ! a young knave, and begging ! Is there 
 
 not wars? is there not employment? doth not 80 
 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. 
 
 Scrv. 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. 
 
 Serv. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and 90 
 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 gettest any leave 
 of me, hang me ; if thou takest leave, thou wert 
 better be hanged. You hunt counter : hence ! 
 avaunt ! 
 
 Serv. Sir, my lord would speak with you. 
 
 Ch. Just. Sir John Falstafif, a word with you. 100 
 
 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 
 lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath 
 yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the 
 saltness of time : and I most humbly beseech your 
 lordship to have a reverend care of your health. 
 
 CJi. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your ex- 
 pedition to Shrewsbury. no 
 
 31
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Fal. An 't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is 
 returned with some discomfort from Wales. 
 
 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, God mend him ! I pray you, let me 
 speak with you. 
 
 Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, 
 
 an 't please your worship; a kind of sleeping in 120 
 the blood, a whoreson tingling. 
 
 Ch. Just. What tell you me of it ? be it as it is. 
 
 Fal. Tt 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 well : rather, an 't 
 
 please you, it is the disease of not listening, the 130 
 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 impris 
 onment to me in respect of poverty ; but how I 
 should be your patient to follow your prescrip- 
 tions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, 140 
 or indeed a scruple itself. 
 
 Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters 
 
 32
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 against you for your life, to come speak with 
 
 me. 
 Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel 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 
 
 150 
 
 Pal. I would it were otherwise ; I would my means 
 
 were greater, and my waist slenderer. 
 CJi. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. 
 Fal. The young prince hath misled me : I am the 
 
 fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. 
 Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed 
 
 wound : your day's service at Shrewsbury hath 
 
 a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads- 160 
 
 hill : you may thank the unquiet time for your 
 
 quiet o'er-posting that action. 
 Fal My lord? 
 CJi. Just. But since all is well, keep it so : wake not 
 
 a sleeping wolf. 
 Fal. To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. 
 Ch. Just. What ! you are as a candle, the better part 
 
 burnt out. 
 Fal. A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow : if I did 
 
 say of wax, my growth would approve the 170 
 
 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. 
 
 33
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Ch. Just. Yon follow the young prince up and down, 
 like his ill angel. 
 
 Fal. Not so, my lord ; your ill angel is light ; but I 
 hope he that looks upon me will take me with- 
 out weighing : and yet, in some respects, I grant, 
 I cannot go: I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little i8o 
 regard in these costermonger times that true 
 valour is turned bear-herd : pregnancy is made 
 a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving 
 reckonings : all the other gifts appertinent to 
 man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are 
 not worth a gooseberry. You that are old con- 
 sider not the capacities of us that are young; 
 you do measure the heat of our livers with the 
 bitterness of your galls: and we that are in the 
 vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags 190 
 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 
 decreasing leg ? an increasing belly ? is not your 
 voice broken? your wind short? your chin 
 double? your wit single? and every part about 
 you blasted with antiquity ? and will you yet call • 
 yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John ! 200 
 
 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 halloing and singing of anthems. To 
 approve my youth further, I will not : the truth 
 is, I am only old in judgement and understand 
 
 34
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 ing; and he that will caper with me for a 
 thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and 
 have at him. For the box of the ear that the 
 prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, 210 
 and you took it like a sensible lord. I have 
 checked him for it, and the young lion repents; 
 marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new 
 silk and old sack. 
 
 CJi. J list. Well, God send the prince a better com- 
 panion ! 
 
 Pal. God send the companion a better prince ! I can- 
 not rid my hands of him. 
 
 CJi. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and Prince 
 
 Harrv : I hear you are going with Lord John of 220 
 Lancaster against the Archbishop and the Earl of 
 Northumberlan d. 
 
 Fal. Yea ; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But 
 look you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at 
 home, that our armies join not in a hot day ; for, 
 by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, 
 and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily : if it be 
 a hot day, and I brandish any thing but a bottle, 
 I would I might never spit white again. There 
 is not a dangerous action can peep out his head. 230 
 but I am thrust upon it : well, I cannot last ever : 
 but it was alway yet the trick of our English 
 nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too 
 common. If ye will needs say I am an old man, 
 you should give me rest. I would to God my 
 name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is : 
 I were better to be eaten to death wnth a rust than 
 to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. 
 
 35
 
 Act I. Sc. li. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest ; and God bless 
 
 your expedition ! 240 
 
 Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to 
 furnish' me forth ? 
 
 Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny ; you are too im- 
 patient to bear crosses. Fare you well : com- 
 mend me to my cousin Westmoreland. 
 
 [Exetmt Chief Justice and Servant. 
 
 Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A 
 man can no more separate age and covetousness 
 than a' can part young limbs and lechery : but 
 the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the 
 other ; and so both the degrees prevent my 250 
 curses. Boy ! 
 
 Page. Sir? 
 
 Fal. What money is in my purse ? 
 
 Page. Seven groats and two pence. 
 
 Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption 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 260 
 weekdy 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. 'Tis 
 no matter if I do halt ; I have the wars for my 
 colour, and my pension shall seem the more 
 reasonable. A good wit will make use of any 
 thing : I will turn diseases to commodity. [Exit, 
 
 36
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 York. The Archbishop's palace. 
 
 Ejuter the Archbishop, the Lords Hastings, Mozvbray, 
 and Bardolph. 
 
 Arch. Thus have you heard our cause and kno\^i 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 ? 
 
 Mozi'b. 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 lo 
 
 To five and twenty thousand men of choice ; 
 And our supplies live largely in the hope 
 Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns 
 With an incensed fire of injuries. 
 
 L. Bard. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus ; 
 Whether our present five and twenty thousand 
 May hold up head without Northumberland ? 
 
 Hast. With him, we may. 
 
 L. Bard. Yea, marry, there 's the point : 
 
 But if without him we be thought too feeble, 
 ]\Iy judgement is, we should not step too far 20 
 
 Till we had his assistance by the hand ; 
 For in a theme so bloody-faced as this 
 Conjecture, expectation, and surmise 
 Of aids incertain should not be admitted. 
 
 Arch. 'Tis very true. Lord Bardolph ; for indeed 
 
 37
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. 
 L. Bard. It was, my lord ; who Hned himself with hope, 
 Eating the air on promise of supply, 
 Flattering himself in project of a power 
 Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts. 30 
 And so, with great imagination 
 Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, 
 And winking leap'd into destruction. 
 
 Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt 
 To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. 
 
 L. Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war ; 
 
 Indeed the instant action — a cause on foot — 
 
 Lives so in hope as in an early spring. 
 
 We see the appearing buds ; which to prove fruit, 
 
 Hope gives not so much warrant as despair 40 
 
 That frost 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 ; 
 
 \Miich if we find outweighs ability, 
 
 What do we then but draw anew the model 
 
 In fewer offices, or at least desist 
 
 To build at all ? IMuch more, in this great work, 
 
 Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down 
 
 And set another up, should we survey 50 
 
 The plot of situation and the model, 
 
 Consent upon a sure foundation. 
 
 Question surveyors, know our own estate, 
 
 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 : 
 
 38
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 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 60 
 
 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'^ 
 The utmost man of expectation, 
 I think we are a body strong enough, 
 Even as we are, to equal with the king. 
 
 L. Bard. AMiat, is the king but five and twenty thousand ? 
 
 Hast. To us no more ; nay, not so much. Lord Bardoloh. 
 For his divisions, as the times do brawl, 70 
 
 Are in three heads: one power against the French, 
 And one against Glendower; perforce a third 
 Must take up us: so is the unfirm king 
 In three divided; and his coffers sound 
 With hollow poverty and emptiness. 
 
 Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together 
 And come against us in full puissance. 
 Need not be dreaded. 
 
 Hast. If he should do so. 
 
 He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh 
 Baying him at the heels : never fear that. 80 
 
 L. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces hither? 
 
 Hast. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; 
 
 Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: 
 But who is substituted 'gainst the French, 
 I have no certain notice. 
 
 Arch. Let us on, 
 
 And pubHsh the occasion of our arms. 
 The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; 
 
 39
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: 
 
 An habitation giddy and unsure 
 
 Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. 90 
 
 O thou fond many, with what loud applause 
 
 Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, 
 
 Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! 
 
 And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, 
 
 Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, 
 
 That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. 
 
 So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge 
 
 Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; 
 
 And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, 99 
 
 And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times? 
 
 They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, 
 
 Are now become enamour'd on his grave: 
 
 Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head 
 
 When through proud London he came sighing on 
 
 After the admired heels of BoHngbroke, 
 
 Criest now ' O earth, yield us that king again. 
 
 And take thou this! ' O thoughts of men accursed! 
 
 Past and to come seems best; tilings present, worst. 
 
 Mozi'b. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on? 
 
 Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone, no 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 46
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 London. A street. 
 
 Enter Hostess, Fang and his Boy zvith her, and 
 Snare foUozuing. 
 
 Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action ? 
 
 Fang. It is entered. 
 
 Host. Where 's your yeoman? Is 't a lusty yeoman ? 
 will a' stand to 't ? 
 
 Fang. Sirrah, where 's Snare ? 
 
 Host. O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. 
 
 Snare. Here, here. 
 
 Fang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. 
 
 Host. Yea, good Master Snare ; I have entered him 
 
 and all. ' lo 
 
 Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for 
 he will stab. 
 
 Host. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed 
 me in mine own house, and that most beastly: 
 in good faith, he cares not what mischief he 
 does, if his weapon be out: he will foin like 
 any devil ; he will spare neither man, woman, 
 nor child. 
 
 Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his 
 thrust. 
 
 Host. No, nor I neither : I '11 be at your elbow. 20 
 
 Fang. An I but fist him once ; an a' come but within 
 my vice, — 
 
 Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, 
 he 's an infinite thing upon my score. Good Mas- 
 ter Fang, hold him sure : good Master Snare, let 
 
 41
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 him not 'scape. A' comes continually to Pie- 
 corner — saving your manhoods — to buy a saddle ; 
 and he is indited to dinner to the Lubber's-head 
 in Lumbert street, to Master Smooth's the silk- 
 man^: I pray ye, since my exion is entered and my 30 
 case so openly known to the world, let him be 
 brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a 
 long one for a poor lone woman to bear : and I 
 have borne, and borne, and borne ; and have 
 been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, 
 from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be 
 thought on. There is no honesty in such deal- 
 ing; unless a woman should be made an ass and 
 a beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he 
 comes ; and that arrant malmsev-nose knave, 40 
 Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your 
 offices : Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, 
 do me, do me your offices. 
 
 Enter Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph. 
 
 Fal. How now ! whose mare 's dead ? what 's the 
 matter ? 
 
 Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of ^listress 
 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 "11 throw thee 
 
 in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou 50 
 bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou 
 honey-suckle villain ! Wilt thou kill God's officers 
 and the king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! 
 thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a 
 woman -quel ler. 
 
 42
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. 
 
 Fang. A rescue! a rescue! 
 
 Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou 
 wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't. wo't ta? do, do, 
 thou rogue ! do, thou hemp-seed ! 60 
 
 Fal. Away, you scuUion ! you rampaUian ! you fus- 
 tilarian ! I '11 tickle your catastrophe. 
 
 Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and his men. 
 
 Ch. Just. What is the matter ? keep the peace here, 
 
 ho! 
 Host. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, 
 
 stand to me. 
 Ch. Just. How now. Sir John ! what are you brawling 
 here? 
 
 Doth this become your place, your time and business ? 
 
 You should have been well on your way to York. 
 
 Stand form him, fellow : wherefore hang'st upon him ? 
 Host. O my most worshipful lord, an 't please your 71 
 
 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 will ride thee o' nights like the mare. 
 Fal. I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have 80 
 
 any vantage ground to get up. 
 Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir John ? Fie ! what 
 
 man of good temper would endure this tempest 
 
 of exclamation ? xA-re you not ashamed to en- 
 
 43
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 force 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, thyself and 
 the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a 
 parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, 90 
 at the roud table, by a sea-coal fire, upon 
 Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince 
 broke thy head for liking his father to a singing- 
 man of Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, 
 as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and 
 make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny 
 it? Did not good wife Keech, the butcher's 
 wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly? 
 coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar ; telling 
 us she had a good dish of prawns ; whereby thou 100 
 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 familiarity 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. IMy lord, this is a poor mad soul ; and she says 
 
 up and down the town that her eldest son is like no 
 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 acquainted 
 with your manner of wrenching the true cause 
 
 44
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor 
 the throng of words that come with such more 
 than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me 
 from a level consideration : you have, as it ap- 120 
 pears to me, practised upon the easy-yielding 
 spirit of this woman, and made her serve your 
 uses both in purse and in person. 
 
 Host. Yea, in truth, my lord. 
 
 Cli. Just. Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe 
 her, and unpay the villany you have done her : 
 the one you may do with sterling money, and the 
 other with current repentance. 
 
 Fal. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without 
 
 reply. You call honourable boldness impudent 130 
 sauciness : if a man will make courtesy and say 
 nothing, he is virtuous : no, my lord, my humble 
 duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I 
 say to you, I do desire deliverance from these 
 officers, being upon hasty employment in the 
 king's affairs. 
 
 Ch. Jtist. You speak as having power to do wrong : 
 but answer in the effect of your reputation, and 
 satisfy the poor woman. 
 
 Fal. Come hither, hostess. 140 
 
 Enter Gozvcr. 
 
 Ch. Jnst. Now, Master Gower, what news ? 
 
 Gozv. The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales 
 
 Are near at hand : the rest the paper tells. 
 Fal. As I am a gentleman. 
 Host. Faith, you said so before. 
 Fal. As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. 
 
 45
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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: and for 150 
 thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story 
 of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water- 
 work, is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings 
 and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten 
 pound, if thou canst. Come, an 'twere not for 
 thy humours, there 's not a better wench in Eng- 
 land. Go, wash thy face, and draw the 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. 160 
 
 Host. Pray thee. Sir John, let it be but twenty no- 
 bles : i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so 
 God save me, la ! 
 
 Fal. Let it alone; I '11 make other shift: you '11 be a 
 fool still. 
 
 Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my 
 gown. I hope you '11 come to supper. You '11 
 pay me all together? 
 
 Fal Will I live? [To Bard ol ph.] Go, with her, with 
 
 her; hook on, hook on. 170 
 
 Host. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at 
 supper ? 
 
 Fal. No more words ; let 's have her. 
 
 \Fxcunt Hostess, Bardolph, officers^ and Boy, 
 
 Ch. Just. I have heard better news. 
 
 Fal. What 's the news, my lord ? 
 
 Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night ? 
 
 Gow. At Basingstoke, my lord. 
 
 46
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Fal. I hope, my lord, all 's well : what is the news, 
 
 my lord? 
 Ch. Just. Come all his forces back? i8o 
 
 Goi<.\ No ; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse. 
 
 Are march 'd up to my Lord of Lancaster, 
 
 Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. 
 FaJ. Comes the king back from Wales, my noble 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 ? 190 
 
 Gozv. I must wait upon my good lord here ; I thank 
 
 you, good Sir John. 
 Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being 
 
 you are to take soldiers up in counties as you 
 
 go. 
 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 200 
 
 fencing grace, my lord ; tap for tap, and so part 
 
 fair. 
 Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee ! thou art a 
 
 great fool. [Exeunt. 
 
 47
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 London. Another street. 
 Enter Prince Henry and Poins. 
 
 Prince. Before God, I am exceeding weary. 
 
 Poins. Ts 't come to that? I had thought weari- 
 ness durst not have attached one of so high 
 blood. 
 
 Prince. Faith, it does me ; though it discolours the 
 complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. 
 Doth it not show vilely in me to desire small 
 beer? 
 
 Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied 
 
 as to remember so weak a composition. lo 
 
 Prince. 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- 
 morrow ! or take note how many pair of silk 
 stockings thou hast, viz. these, and those that 
 were thy peach-coloured ones ! or to bear the 
 inventory of thy shirts ; as, one for superfluity, 20 
 and another for use ! But that the tennis-court- 
 keeper knows better than I ; for it is a low ebb 
 of linen with thee when thou keepest not racket 
 there ; as thou hast not done a great while, be- 
 cause the rest of thy low countries have made a 
 shift to eat up thy holland : and God knows, 
 whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy 
 linen shall inherit his kingdom : but the mid-
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 wives say the children are not in the fault ; 
 whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are 30 
 mightily strengthened. 
 
 Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so 
 hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how 
 many good young princes would do so, their 
 fathers being so sick as yours at this time is ? 
 
 Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? 
 
 Poins. Yes, faith ; and let it be an excellent good 
 thing. 
 
 Prince. It shall serve among wits of no higher breed- 
 ing than thine. 40 
 
 Poins. Go to ; I stand the push of your one thing 
 that you will tell. 
 
 Prince. Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I shoilld 
 be sad, now my father is sick : albeit I could tell 
 to thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a 
 better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad 
 indeed too. 
 
 Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject. 
 
 Prince. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the 
 
 devil's book as thou and Falstafif for obduracy 50 
 and persistency : let the end try the man. But 
 I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my 
 father is so sick : and keeping such vile company 
 as thou art hath in reason taken from me all 
 ostentation of sorrow. 
 
 Poins. The reason? 
 
 Prince. What wouldst thou think of me, if I should 
 weep? 
 
 Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. 
 
 Prince. It would be every man's thought ; and thou 60 
 
 49
 
 Act IL Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 art a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks : 
 never a man's thought in the world keeps the 
 road-way better than thine: every man would 
 think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites 
 your most worshipful thought to think so? 
 
 Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so 
 much engraffed to Falstafif. 
 
 Prince. And to thee. 
 
 Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on ; I can hear 
 
 it with mine own ears : the worst that they can 70 
 say of me is that I am a second brother, and that 
 I am a proper fellow of my hands ; and those 
 two things, I confess, I cannot help. By the 
 mass, here comes Bardolph. 
 
 Enter Bardolph and Page. 
 
 Prince. And the boy that I gave Falstaff : a' had him 
 from me Christian ; and look, if the fat villain 
 have not transformed him ape. 
 
 Bard. God save your grace ! 
 
 Prince. And yours, most noble Bardolph ! 
 
 Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must 80 
 you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? 
 What a maidenly man-at-arms are you become ! 
 Is 't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maiden- 
 head? 
 
 Page. A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red 
 lattice, and I could discern no part of his face 
 from the window : at last I spied his eyes ; and 
 methought he had made two holes in the ale- 
 wife's new petticoat and so peeped through. 
 
 Prince. Has not the boy profited ? 90 
 
 50
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! 
 
 Page. Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away ! 
 
 Prince. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? 
 
 Page. Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was de- 
 livered of a fire-brand ; and therefore T call him 
 her dream. 
 
 Prince. A crown's worth of good interpretation : 
 there 'tis, boy. 
 
 Poius. O, that this good blossom could be kept from 
 
 cankers ! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee lOO 
 
 Bard. And you do not make him hanged among you, 
 the gallows shall have wrong. 
 
 Prince. And how doth thy master, Bardolph? 
 
 Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's 
 coming to town : there 's a letter for you. 
 
 Poins. Delivered with good respect And how doth 
 the martlemas, your master? 
 
 Bard. In bodily health, sir. 
 
 Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician ; 
 
 but that moves not him: though that be sick, it no 
 dies not. 
 
 Prince. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with 
 me as my dog ; and he holds his place ; for look 
 you how he writes. 
 
 Poins. [Reads] ' John Falstaff, knight,' — every man 
 must know that, as oft as he has occasion to 
 name himself : even like those that are kin to the 
 king; for they never prick their finger but they 
 say, ' There 's some of the king's blood spilt.' 
 * How comes that ? ' says he, that takes upon him 
 not to conceive. The answer is as ready as a 120 
 borrower's cap, ' I am the king's poor cousin, sir.* 
 
 51
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch 
 it from Japhet. fkit to the letter: 
 
 Poins. [Reads] ' Sir John Falstaff, knight to the son 
 ' of the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of 
 Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. 
 
 Prince. Peace! 
 
 Poins. [Reads] ' I will imitate the honourable Ro- 
 mans in brevity:' he sure means brevity in 130 
 breath, short-winded. ' I commend me to thee, 
 I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too 
 familiar with Poins ; for he misuses thy favours 
 so much, that he swears thou art to marry his 
 sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may- 
 est ; and so, farewell. 
 
 * Thine, by yea and no, which is as much 
 as to say, as thou usest him. Jack 
 Falstaff with my familiars, John 
 with my brothers and sisters, and 140 
 Sir John with all Europe.' 
 My lord, I '11 steep this letter in sack, and make 
 him eat it. 
 
 Prince. That 's to make him eat twenty of his words. 
 But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry 
 your sister? 
 
 Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune ! But 
 I never said so. 
 
 Prince. Well, thus we play the fools with the time : 
 
 and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and 150 
 mock us. Is your master here in London ? 
 
 Bard. Yea, my lord. 
 
 Prince. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in 
 the old frank? 
 
 S2
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. 
 
 Prince. What company ? 
 
 Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. 
 
 Prince. Sup any women with him ? 
 
 Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and 
 
 Mistress Doll Tearsheet. i6o 
 
 Prince. What pagan may that be ? 
 Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman 
 
 of my master's. 
 Prince. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the 
 
 town bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at 
 
 supper ? 
 Poins. I am your shadow, my lord ; I '11 follow you. 
 Prince. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to 
 
 your master that I am yet come to town : there 's 
 
 for your silence. 170 
 
 Bard. I have no tongue, sir. 
 Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it. 
 Prince. Fare you well ; go. [Exeunt Bardolph and 
 
 Page.] This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. 
 Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between 
 
 Saint Alban's and London. 
 Prince. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself 
 
 to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be 
 
 seen ? 
 Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and iSd 
 
 wait upon him at his table as drawers. 
 Prince. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension ! 
 
 it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice ? 
 
 a low transformation ! that shall be mine ; for in 
 
 every thing the purpose must weigh with the 
 
 folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt. 
 
 S3
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 IVarkworth. Before the castle. 
 
 Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, 
 and Lady Percy. 
 
 North. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, 
 Give even way unto my rough affairs : 
 Put not you on the visage of the times, 
 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 God's sake, go not to these wars ! 
 
 The time was, father, that you broke your word, lo 
 
 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. 
 
 W' ho then persuaded you to stay 'at home ? 
 
 There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. 
 
 For yours, the God of heaven brighten it ! 
 
 For his, it stuck upon him as the sun 
 
 In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light 
 
 Did all the chivalry of England move 20 
 
 To do brave acts : he was indeed the glass 
 
 Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves : 
 
 He had no legs that practised not his gait ; 
 
 And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish. 
 
 Became the accents of the valiant ; 
 
 For those that could speak low and tardily 
 
 Would turn their own perfection to abuse, 
 
 54
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 To seem like him : so that in speech, in gait, 
 
 In diet, in affections of delight, 
 
 In military rules, humorous of blood, 30 
 
 He was the mark and glass, copy and book, 
 
 That fashion 'd others. And him, O wondrous him ! 
 
 O miracle of men! him did you leave, 
 
 Second to none, unseconded by you. 
 
 To look upon the hideous god of war 
 
 In disadvantage; to abide a field 
 
 Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name 
 
 Did seem defensible: so you left him. 
 
 Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong 
 
 To hold your honour more precise and nice 40 
 
 With others than with him! let them alone: 
 
 The marshal and the archbishop are strong: 
 
 Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers. 
 
 To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, 
 
 Have talk'd of ]\Ionmouth's grave. 
 
 North. Beshrew your heart, 
 
 Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me 
 With new lamenting ancient oversights. 
 But I must go and meet with danger there, 
 Or it will seek me in another place 
 And find me worse provided. 
 
 Lady N. O, fly to Scotland, 50 
 
 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; 
 
 55
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And never shall have length of life enough 
 To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, 
 That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, 60 
 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 his height. 
 That makes a still-stand, running neither way: 
 Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, 
 But many thousand reasons hold me back. 
 I will resolve for Scotland : there am I, 
 Till time and vantage crave my company. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 London. The Boars-head Tavern in Eastcheap. 
 Enter tivo Drazvers, 
 
 First Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there? 
 apple-johns? thou knowest Sir John cannot en- 
 dure an apple-john. 
 
 Sec. Drazv. Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once 
 set a dish of apple-johns before him, and told him 
 there were five more Sir Johns ; and, putting 
 off his hat, said, ' I will now take my leave of 
 these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It 
 angered him to the heart: but he hath forgot 
 that. 10 
 
 First Drazv. Why, then, cover, and set them down : 
 and see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; 
 Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. 
 Dispatch : the room where they supped is too 
 hot; they '11 come in straight. 
 
 Sec. Draw. Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master 
 
 S6
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 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. 
 
 First Drazv. By the mass, here will be old utis : it 20 
 >\ will be an excellent stratagem. 
 
 Sec. Drazv. I '11 see if I can find out Sneak. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet. 
 
 Host, r faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in 
 ^ an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge 
 beats as extraordinarily as. heart would desire; 
 and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any 
 rose, in good truth, la ! But, i' faith, you have 
 drunk too much canaries ; and that 's a mar- 
 vellous searching wine, and it perfumes the 
 blood ere one can say ' What 's this ? ' How do 30 
 you now? 
 
 Dol. Better than I was : hem ! 
 
 Host. Why, that 's well said ; a good heart 's worth 
 gold. Lo, here comes Sir John. 
 
 Enter Falstaif, 
 
 Fal. [Singing] ' When Arthur first in court ' — 
 Empty the Jordan. [Exit First Drazver — [^in^- 
 ing] ' And was a worthy king.' How now. Mis- 
 tress Doll ! 
 
 Host. Sick of a calm ; yea, good faith. 
 
 Fal. So is all her sect ; an they be once in a calm, 
 
 they are sick. 40 
 
 Dol. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you 
 give me? 
 
 Fal. You make fat rascals. Mistress Doll. 
 
 Dol. T make them ! gluttony and diseases make them ; 
 I make them not. 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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 vir- 
 tue, grant that. 
 
 DoL Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels. 50 
 
 FaL ' Your brooches, pearls, and ouches ' : for to 
 serve bravely is to come halting off, you know ; 
 to come off the breach with his pike bent 
 l^ravely, and to surgery bravely ; to venture upon 
 the charged chambers bravely, — >^ 
 
 DoL Hang vourself, vou muddy conger, hang your- 
 self! 
 
 Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion ; you two 
 never meet but you fall to some discord : you 
 are both, i' good truth, as rheumatic as two dry 60 
 toasts ; you cannot one bear with another's con- 
 firmities. What the good-year! one must bear, 
 and that must be you : you are the weaker ves- 
 sel, 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 '11 be 
 friends with thee, Jack : thou art going to the 
 wars ; and whether I shall ever see thee again 70 
 or no, there is nobody cares. 
 
 Re-enter First Drazver. 
 
 First Drazv. Sir, Ancient Pistol 's below, and would 
 
 speak with you. 
 DoL Hang him,swaggering rascal ! let him not come 
 
 hither : it is the foul-mouthedst rogue in England. 
 
 S8
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Host. If he swagger, let him not come here : no, by 
 my faith; I must Uve among my neighbours; 
 I '11 no swaggerers : I am in good name and 
 fame with the very best : shut the door ; there 
 comes no swaggerers here : I have not lived all 80 
 this while, to have swaggering now: shut the 
 door, I pray you. 
 Fal Dost thou hear, hostess? 
 Host. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John: there 
 
 comes no swaggerers here. 
 Fal Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. 
 Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: your an- 
 cient swaggerer comes not m my doors. I was 
 before Master Tisick, the deputy, t' other day ; 
 and, as he said to me, 'twas no longer ago than 90 
 Wednesday last, ' I, good faith, neighbour 
 Quickly,' says he ; Master Dumbe, our minister, 
 was by then ; ' neighbour Quickly,' says he, ' re- 
 ceive those that are civil ; for,' said he, ' you are 
 in an ill name ; ' now a' said so, I can tell where- 
 upon ; ' for,' says he, ' you are an honest woman, 
 and well thought on ; therefore take heed what 
 guests you receive : receive,' says he, ' no swag- 
 gering companions.' There comes none here: 
 you would bless you to hear what he said: no, 100 
 I '11 no swaggerers. 
 Fal. He 's no swaggerer, hostess ; a tame cheater, i' 
 faith ; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy 
 greyhound : he '11 not swagger with a Barbary 
 hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of 
 resistance. Call him up, drawer. 
 
 [Exit First Drainer. 
 
 59
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest 
 man my house, nor no cheater : but I do not love 
 swaggering, by my troth ; I am the worse, when 
 one says swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; no 
 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, Bardolpli, and Page. 
 
 Pist. God save you, Sir John ! 
 
 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. 120 
 
 Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir ; you shall hardly offend 
 her. 
 
 Host. Come, I '11 drink no proofs nor no bullets : I '11 
 drink no more than will do me good, for no 
 man's pleasure, I. 
 
 Pist. Then to you. Mistress Dorothy ; I will charge 
 you. 
 
 Dol. Charge me ! I scorn you, scurvy companion. 
 What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack- 
 linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! 130 
 I am meat for your master. 
 
 Pist. I know you, IMistress Dorothy. 
 
 Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal ! you filthy bung, 
 away ! by this wine, I '11 thrust my knife in your 
 mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with 
 me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal ! you basket- 
 
 60
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 hilt stale juggler, you ! Since when, I pray you, 
 sir? God's light, with two points on your 
 shoulder ? much ! 
 
 Pist, God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff 140 
 for this. 
 
 Fal, No more, Pistol ; I would not have you go off 
 here : discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. 
 
 Host. No, good Captain Pistol ; not here, sweet cap- 
 tain. 
 
 Dol. Captain ! thou abominable damned cheater, art 
 thou not ashamed to be called captain? An 
 captains were of my mind, they would truncheon 
 you out, for taking their names upon you before 
 you have earned them. You a captain! you 150 
 slave, for what ? for tearing a poor whore's ruff 
 in a bawdy-house ? He a captain ! hang him, 
 rogue ! he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and 
 dried cakes. A captain ! God's light, these vil- 
 lains will make the word as odious as the word 
 ' occupy ' ; w.hich was an excellent good word 
 before it was ill sorted : therefore captains had 
 need look to 't. 
 
 Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. 
 
 Fal. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll. ^ 160 
 
 Fist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, T 
 could tear her : I '11 be revenged of her. 
 
 Fa^ic. Pray thee, go down. 
 
 Pist. I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned 
 lake, by this hand, to the infernal deep, with 
 Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and 
 line, say I. Down, down, dogs ! down, faitors ! 
 Have we not Hiren here ? 
 61
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Host. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet ; 'tis very late, 
 
 i' faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your 170 
 choler. 
 
 Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack- 
 horses. 
 And hollow pamper 'd jades of Asia, 
 Which cannot go but thirty mile a day, 
 Compare with C?esars, and with Cannibals, 
 And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with 
 King Cerberus ; and let the welkin roar. 
 Shall we fall foul for toys? 
 
 Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. 
 
 Bard. Be gone, good ancient : this will grow to a iSd 
 brawl anon. 
 
 Pist. Die men like dogs ! give crowns like pins ! 
 Have we not Hiren here? 
 
 Host. O' my word, captain, there 's none such here. 
 What the good-year ! do you think I would deny 
 her? For God's sake be quiet. 
 
 Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. 
 Come, give 's some sack. 
 
 ' Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.' 
 Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire: 190 
 Give me some sack : and, sweetheart, lie thou there. 
 
 [Laying doivn his sn'ord. 
 Come we to full points here ; and are etceteras noth- 
 ing? 
 
 Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. 
 
 Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf : what ! we have 
 seen the seven stars. 
 
 Dot For God's sake, thrust him down stairs : I can- 
 not endure such a fustian rascal. 
 62
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Gallo- 
 way nags ? 
 
 Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-goat 200 
 shilling : nay, an a' do nothing but speak noth- 
 ing, a' shall be nothing here. 
 
 Bard. Come, get you down stairs. 
 
 Pist. What ! shall we have incision ? shall we imbrue ? 
 
 [Snatching up his sword. 
 Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful 
 
 days ! 
 Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds 
 Untwine the Sisters Three ! Come, Atropos, I say ! 
 
 Host. Here 's goodly stuff toward ! 
 
 Fal. Give me my rapier, boy. 
 
 Dol I pray thee. Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. 210 
 
 Fal. Get you down stairs. 
 
 [Drawing, and driving Pistol out. 
 
 Host. Here 's a goodly tumult ! I '11 forswear keep- 
 ing house, afore I '11 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 's gone. 
 Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you ! 
 
 Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' 
 
 made a shrewd thrust at your belly. 220 
 
 Re-enter Bardolph. 
 
 Fal. Have you turned him out o' doors ? 
 
 Bard. Yea, sir. The rascal 's drunk : you have hurt 
 
 him, sir, i' the shoulder. 
 FaL A rascal ! to brave me ! 
 
 63
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Dol, Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor 
 ape, how thou sweatest ! come, let me wipe thy 
 face ; come on, you whoreson chops : ah, rogue ! 
 i' faith, I love thee: thou art as valorous as 
 Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and 
 ten times better than the Nine Worthies : ah, 230 
 villain ! 
 
 Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a 
 blanket. 
 
 Dol Do, an thou darest for thy heart : an thou dost, 
 I '11 canvass thee between a pair of sheets. 
 
 Enter Music. 
 
 Page, The music Is come, sir. 
 
 Fal. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, 
 Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled 
 from me like quicksilver. 
 
 Dol. V faith, and thou foUowedst him like a church. 240 
 Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar- 
 pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and 
 foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old 
 body for heaven ? 
 
 Enter, behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised. 
 
 Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's- 
 head ; do not bid me remember mine end. 
 
 DoL Sirrah, what humour 's the prince of ? 
 
 Fal. A good shallow young fellow: a' would have 
 made a good pantler, a' would ha' chipped bread 
 well. 250 
 
 Dol. They say Poins has a good wit. 
 
 Fal. He a good wit ? hang him, baboon ! his wit 's 
 
 64
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. ivo 
 
 as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there's no 
 more conceit in him than is in a mallet. 
 DoL Why does the prince love him so, then ? 
 Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness ; and 
 a' plays at quoits well; and eats conger and 
 fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap- 
 dragons ; and rides the wild-mare with the boys ; 
 and jumps upon joined-stools ; and swears with 260 
 a good grace ; and wears his boots very smooth, 
 like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no 
 bate with telling of discreet stories ; and such 
 other gambol faculties a' has, that show a weak 
 mind and an able body, for the which the prince 
 admits him : for the prince himself is such an- 
 other ; the weight of a hair will turn the scales 
 between their avoirdupois. 
 Prince. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears 
 
 cutofif? 270 
 
 Poins. Let 's beat him before his whore. 
 Prince. Look, whether the withered elder hath not 
 
 his poll clawed like a parrot. 
 Poins. Is it not strange that desire should so many 
 
 years outlive performance? 
 Fal. Kiss me, Doll. 
 Prince. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! 
 
 what says the almanac to that ? 
 Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, 
 
 be not Usping to his master's old tables, his 280 
 note-book, his counsel-keeper. 
 Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. 
 DoL By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant 
 heart. • 
 
 65
 
 Act II. Sc. IV. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Fal. I am old, I am old. 
 
 Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young" 
 boy of them all. 
 
 Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of ? I shall receive 
 money o' Thursday: shalt have a cap to-mor- 
 row. A merry song, come: it grows late; we '11 290 
 to bed. Thou 'It forget me when I am gone. 
 
 Dol, By my troth, thou 'It set me a-weeping, an thou 
 sayest so : prove that ever I dress myself hand- 
 some till thy return : well, hearken at the end. 
 
 Fal. Some sack, Francis. 
 
 Ptxhcc 1 
 
 . ' y Anon, anon, sir. [Coming forivard. 
 
 Fal. Ha ! a bastard son of the king's ? And art not 
 
 thou Poins his brother? 
 Prince. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what 
 
 a Hfe dost thou lead ! 300 
 
 Fal. A better than thou : I am a gentleman ; thou art 
 
 a drawer. 
 Prince. Very true, sir ; and I come to draw you out 
 
 by the ears. 
 Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace ! by my 
 
 troth, welcome to London. Now, the Lord bless 
 
 that sweet face of thine ! O Jesu, art you come 
 
 from Wales? 
 Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by 
 
 this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art 310 
 
 welcome. 
 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. • 
 
 66
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Prince. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely 
 did you speak of me even now before this honest, 
 virtuous, civil gentlewoman! 
 
 Host, God's blessing of your good heart ! and so she 
 
 is, by my troth. 320 
 
 Fal. Didst thou hear me? 
 
 Prince. Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you 
 ran away by Gadshill : you knew I was at your 
 back, and spoke it on purpose to try my pa- 
 tience. 
 
 Fal. No, no, no ; not so ; I did not think thou wast 
 within hearing. 
 
 Prince. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful 
 abuse ; and then I know how to handle you. 
 
 Fal. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour ; no abuse. 330 
 
 Prince. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and 
 bread-chipper and I know not what ? 
 
 Fal. No abuse, Hal. 
 
 Poins. No abuse? 
 
 Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' the world ; honest Ned, none. 
 I dispraised him before the wicked, that the 
 wicked might not fall in love with him ; in which 
 doing, I have done the part of a careful friend 
 and a true subject, and thy father is to give me 
 thanks for it. No abuse, Hal : none, Ned, none : 340 
 no, faith, boys, none. 
 
 Prince. See now, whether pure fear and entire cow- 
 ardice 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 thy boy of the wicked? or honest Bardolph, 
 whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked? 
 
 (>7
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SEXOND PART OF 
 
 Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. 
 
 Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irre- 
 coverable ; and his face is Lucifer's privy- 350 
 kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt- 
 worms. For the boy, there is a good angel 
 about him ; but the devil outbids him too. 
 
 Prince. For the women ? 
 
 Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and 
 burns poor souls. For the other, I owe her 
 money ; and whether she be damned for that, 
 I know not. 
 
 Host. No, I warrant you. 
 
 Fal. No, I think thou art not ; I think thou art quit 360 
 for that. Marry, there is another indictment 
 upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy 
 house, contrary to the law ; for the which I think 
 thou wilt howl. 
 
 Host. All victuallers do so : what 's a joint of mutton 
 or two in a whole Lent? 
 
 Prince. You, gentlewoman, — 
 
 Dot. What says your grace? 
 
 Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels 
 
 against. 370 
 
 [Knocking within. 
 
 Host. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the 
 door there, Francis. 
 
 Fnter Peto. 
 
 Prince. Peto, how now! what news? 
 
 Peto. The king your father is at Westminster ; 
 And there are twenty weak and wearied posts 
 Come from the north : and, as I came along, 
 
 68
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 I met and overtook a dozen captains, 
 Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, 
 And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. 
 
 Prince. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, 380 
 So idly to profane the precious time ; 
 When tempest of commotion, like the south 
 Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt. 
 And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. 
 Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night. 
 [Exeunt Prince Henry, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph. 
 
 FaL Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, 
 and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. 
 [Knocking within.] More knocking at the door ! 
 
 Re-enter Bardolph. 
 
 How now ! what 's the matter ? 
 
 Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently ; 390 
 
 A dozen captains stay at door for you. 
 
 Fal. [To the Page.] Pay the musicians, sirrah. 
 Farewell, hostess ; farewell, Doll. You see, my 
 good wenches, how men of merit are sought 
 after: the undeserver may sleep, when the man 
 of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches : 
 if I be not sent away post,* I will see you again 
 ere I go. 
 
 Dol. I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to 
 
 burst, — well, s.weet Jack, have a care of thyself. 400 
 
 Fal. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph. 
 
 Host. Well, fare thee well : I have known thee these 
 twenty nine years, come peacod-time; but an 
 honester and truer-hearted man, — well fare thee 
 well. 
 
 69
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Bard. [Within] Mistress Tearsheet ! 
 
 Host What 's the matter? 
 
 Bard, [Within'] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my 
 
 master. 
 Host. O, run, Doll, run ; run, good Doll : come. 410 
 
 [She comes blubbered.] Yea, will you come, Doll? 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Westminster. The palace. 
 
 Enter the King in his nightgozvn, zvith a Page. 
 
 King. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick ; 
 But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters 
 And well consider of them : make good speed. 
 
 [Exit Page. 
 How many thousand of my poorest subjects 
 Are at this hour asleep ! O sleep, O gentle sleep, 
 Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee. 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. 
 And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
 Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs. 
 Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 10 
 
 And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, 
 Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, 
 Under the canopies of costly state, 
 And luU'd with sound of sweetest melody ? 
 O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile 
 In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch 
 A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell ? 
 
 70
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III, Sc. i. 
 
 Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
 
 Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains 
 
 In cradle of the rude imperious surge, 20 
 
 And in the visitation of the winds, 
 
 Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
 
 Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them 
 
 With deafening clamour in the sHppery clouds, 
 
 That, with the hurly, death inself awakes? 
 
 Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose 
 
 To the wet set-boy in an hour so rude; 
 
 And in the calmest and most stillest night, 
 
 With all appliances and means to boot. 
 
 Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down! 30 
 
 Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. 
 
 Enter Warwick and Surrey. 
 
 War. Many good morrows to your majesty ! 
 
 King. Is it good morrow, lords? 
 
 War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past. 
 
 King. Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords. 
 Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you ? 
 
 War. We have, my liege. 
 
 King. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom 
 How foul it is; what rank diseases grow. 
 And with what danger, near the heart of it. 40 
 
 War. It is but as a body pet distemper'd ; 
 
 Which to his former strength may be restored 
 
 With good advice and little medicine: 
 
 My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd. 
 
 King. O God! that one might read the book of fate. 
 And see the revolution of the times 
 Make mountains level, and the continent, 
 
 71
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Weary of solid firmness, melt itself 
 
 Into the sea! and, other times, to see 
 
 The beachy girdle of the ocean 50 
 
 Too wide for Neptune's hips ; how chances mock 
 
 And changes fill the cup of alteration 
 
 With divers Hquors! O, if this were seen, 
 
 The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, 
 
 What perils past, what crosses to ensue, 
 
 Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 
 
 '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 60 
 
 This Percy was the man nearest my soul; 
 
 Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs, 
 
 And laid his love and life under my foot; 
 
 Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard 
 
 Gave him defiance. But which of you was by — 
 
 You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember — 
 
 [To Warwick. 
 When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears. 
 Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, 
 Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy? • 
 ' Northumberland, thou ladder by the which 70 
 My cousin Bohngbroke ascends my throne; ' 
 Though then, God knows, I had no such intent, 
 But that necessity so bow'd the state, 
 That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss: 
 * The time shall come,' thus did he follow it, 
 'The time will come, that foul sin, gathering 
 
 head, 
 Shall break into corruption: ' so went on, 
 
 72
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Foretelling this same time's condition, 
 And the division of our amity. 
 
 IVar. There is a history in all men's lives, 80 
 
 Figuring the nature of the times deceased; 
 The which observed, a man may prophesy. 
 With a near aim, of the main chance of things 
 As yet not come to life, which in their seeds 
 And weak beginnings lie intreasured. 
 Such things become the hatch and brood of time; 
 And by the necessary form of this 
 King Richard might create a perfect guess 
 That great Northumberland, then false to him, 
 Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness; 90 
 Which should not find a ground to root upon. 
 Unless on you. 
 
 King. Are these things then necessities? 
 
 Then let us meet them like necessities 
 And that same word even now cries out on us: 
 They say the bishop and Northumberland 
 Are fifty thousand strong. 
 
 War. It cannot be, my lord; 
 
 Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo. 
 The numbers of the fear'd. Please it your grace 
 To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord, 
 The powers that you already have sent forth 100 
 Shall bring this prize in very easily. 
 To comfort you the more, I have received 
 A certain instance that Glendower is dead. 
 Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill; 
 And these unseason'd hours perforce must add 
 Unto your sickness. 
 
 K. Hen. I will take your counsel 
 
 73
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And were these inward wars once out of hand, 
 We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Scene II. 
 
 Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallozv's house. 
 
 Enter Shallozv and Silence, meeting; Mouldy, Shadow, 
 Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf, a Servant or two zvith them. 
 
 Shal. Come on, come on, come on, sir ; give me your 
 hand, sir, give me your hand, sir: an early 
 stirrer, by the rood! And how doth my good 
 cousin Silence? 
 
 Sil. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. 
 
 Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and 
 your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter 
 Ellen? 
 
 Sil. Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow! 
 
 Shal. By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin lo 
 William is become a good scholar : he is at 
 Oxford still, is he not? 
 
 Sil. Indeed, sir, to my cost. 
 
 Shal. A' must then, to the inns o' court shortly: 
 I was once of Clement's Inn, where I think 
 they will talk of mad Shallow yet. 
 
 Sil. You were called ' lusty Shallow ' then, cousin. 
 
 Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I 
 would have done any thing indeed too, and 
 roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit 20 
 of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and 
 Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, a Cotswold 
 man; you had not four such swinge-bucklers in 
 all the inns o' court again: and I may say to you, 
 
 74
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the 
 best of them all at commandment. Then was 
 Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to 
 Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 ^'/7. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon 
 
 about soldiers? 30 
 
 ShaL The same Sir John, the very same. I see him 
 break Skogan's head at the court-gate, when a' 
 was a crack not thus high : and the very same 
 day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a 
 fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the 
 mad days that I have spent ! and to see how 
 many of my old acquaintance are dead ! 
 
 Sil. We shall all follow, cousin. 
 
 Shal. Certain, 'tis certain ; very sure, very sure : 
 
 death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all ; 40 
 all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at 
 Stamford fair? 
 
 SiL By my troth, I was not there. 
 
 Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town 
 living yet? 
 
 Sil. Dead, sir. 
 
 Shal. Jesu, Jesu, dead! a' drew a good bow; and 
 dead ! a' shot a fine shoot : John a Gaunt loved 
 him well, and betted much monev on his head. 
 Dead ! a' would have clapped i' the clout at 50 
 twelve score ; and carried you a forehand shaft 
 a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would 
 have done a man's heart good to see. How a 
 score of ewes now? 
 
 Sil. Thereafter as they be : a score of good ewes may 
 be worth ten pounds. 
 
 75
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Shal. And is old Double dead? 
 Sil. Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as 
 I think. 
 
 Enter Bardolph, and one zuith him. 
 
 Bard. Good morrow, honest gentlemen : I beseech 60 
 you, which is Justice Shallow? 
 
 Shal. I am Robert Shallow, sir ; a poor esquire of 
 this country, 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 
 back-sword man. How doth the good knight? 
 may I ask how my lady his wife doth? 70 
 
 Bard. Sir, pardon ; a soldier is better accommodated 
 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, is it : good phrases are surely, and 
 ever were, very commendable. Accommodated ! 
 it comes of ' accommodo ' : very good ; a good 
 phrase. 
 
 Bard. Pardon me, sir; I have heard the word. 
 
 Phrase call you it? by this good day, I know 80 
 not the phrase; but I will maintain the word 
 with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and 
 a word of exceeding good command, by heaven. 
 Accommodated ; that is, when a man is, as they 
 say, accommodated : or when a man is, being, 
 whereby a' may be thought to be accommo- 
 dated ; which is an excellent thing.
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act iii. Sc. ii. 
 
 Shal. It is very just. 
 
 Enter Falstaif, 
 
 Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me youV 
 good hand, give me your worship's good hand : 90 
 by my troth, you Hke well and bear your years 
 very well : welcome, good Sir John. 
 
 Fal. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert 
 Shallow : Master Surecard, as I think ? 
 
 Shal. No, Sir John ; it is my cousin Silence, in com- 
 mission with me. 
 
 Fal. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should 
 be of the peace. 
 
 Sil. Your good worship is welcome. 
 
 Fal. Fie ! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you 100 
 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 ? where 's 
 the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. 
 So, so, so, so, so, so, so : yea, marry, sir : Ralph 
 Mouldy ! Let them appear as I call ; let them 
 do so, let them do so. Let me see; where is 
 Mouldy ? 
 
 Moid. Here, an 't please you. no 
 
 Shal. What think you. Sir John? a good-limbed 
 fellow ; young, strong, and of good friends. 
 
 Fal. Is thy name Mouldy? 
 
 Moid. Yea, an 't please you. 
 
 Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. 
 
 Shal. Ha, ha, ha ! most excellent, i' faith ! things that 
 are mouldy lack use: very singular good! in 
 faith, well said. Sir John ; very well said. 
 
 77
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Fal. Prick him. 
 
 MouL I was pricked well enough before, an you 120 
 could have let me alone: my old dame will be 
 undone now, for one to do her husbandry and 
 her drudgery : you need not to have pricked me ; 
 there are other men fitter to go out than I. 
 
 Fal. Go to : peace, Alouldy ; 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! 130 
 
 Fal. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under : he 's 
 like to be a cold soldier. 
 
 Shal. Where 's Shadow ? 
 
 Shad. Here, sir. 
 
 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 much of 
 the father's substance! 140 
 
 Shal. Do you like him. Sir John? 
 
 Fal. Shadow will serve for summer ; prick him, for 
 we have a number of shadows to fill up the 
 muster-book. 
 
 Shal. Thomas Wart ! 
 
 Fal. Where 's he ? 
 
 Wart. Here, sir. 
 
 Fal. Is thy name Wart? 
 
 Wart. Yea, sir. 
 
 Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart. 
 
 78
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Shal. Shall I prick him down, Sir John ? 
 
 Fal. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built 
 
 upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon 
 
 pins : prick him no more. 
 Shal. Ha, ha, ha! you can do it, sir; you can do it: 
 
 I commend you well. Francis Feeble! 
 Fee. Here, sir. 
 
 Shal. What trade art thou. Feeble ? 
 Fee. A woman's tailor, sir. 
 
 Shal. Shall I prick him, sir? i6o 
 
 Fal. You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, 
 
 he 'ad ha' pricked you. Wilt thou make as many 
 
 holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a 
 
 woman's petticoat? 
 Fee. I will do my good will, sir: you can have no 
 
 more. 
 Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, 
 
 courageous Feeble! thou wilt be as valiant as 
 
 the wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. 
 
 Prick the woman's tailor : well, Master Shallow ; 170 
 
 deep, Master Shallow. 
 Fee. I would Wart might have gone, sir. 
 Fal. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou 
 
 mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I 
 
 cannot put him to a private soldier, that is the 
 
 leader of so many thousands : let that suffice, 
 
 most forcible Feeble. 
 Fee. It shall suffice, sir. 
 Fal. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who 
 
 is next. * 180 
 
 Shal. Peter Bullcalf o' the green ! 
 Fal. Yea, marry, let 's see Bullcalf. 
 
 79
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Bull. Here, sir. 
 
 Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow ! Come, prick me 
 
 BuUcalf 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 190 
 
 caught with ringing in the king's affairs upon 
 
 his coronation-day, sir. 
 Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown ; we 
 
 will have away thy cold; and I will take such 
 
 order that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is 
 
 here all ? 
 Shal. Here is two more called than your number; 
 
 you must have but four here, sir: and so, I 
 
 pray you, go in with me to dinner. 
 Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot 
 
 tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my 200 
 
 troth, Master Shallow. 
 SJial. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all 
 
 night in the windmill in Saint George's field ? 
 Fal. No more of that. Good Master Shallow, no more 
 
 of that. 
 Shal. Ha ! 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Night- 
 work alive? 
 Fal. She lives, Master Shallow. 
 Shal. She never could away with me. 
 Fal. Never, never; she would always say she could 210 
 
 not abide Master Shallow. 
 Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. 
 She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her 
 own well? 
 
 80
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Fal Old, old, Master Shallow. 
 
 Shal. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but 
 be old ; certain she 's old ; and had Robin 
 Nightwork by old Nightwork before I came to 
 Clement's Inn. 
 
 Sil. That 's fifty-five year ago. 220 
 
 Shal. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that 
 that this knight and I have seen! Ha, Sir 
 John, said I well? 
 
 Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master 
 Shallow. 
 
 Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have; 
 in faith, Sir John, we have : our watch-word 
 was * Hem boys ! ' Come, let 's to dinner; come, 
 let 's to dinner : Jesus, the days that we have 
 seen! Come, come. 230 
 
 [Exeunt Falstaif and the Justices. 
 
 Bull. Good master corporate Bardolph, stand my 
 friend ; and here 's four Harry ten shillings in 
 French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I 
 had as hef 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 240 
 dame's sake, stand my friend: she has nobody 
 to do any thing about her when I am gone ; and 
 she is old, and cannot help herself: you shall 
 have forty, sir*. 
 
 Bard, Go to ; stand aside. 
 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Fee, By my troth, I care not; a man can die but 
 once ; we owe God a death : I '11 ne'er bear a 
 base mind : an 't be my destiny, so ; an 't be 
 not, so : no man 's too good to serve 's prince ; 
 and let it go which way it will, he that dies this 250 
 year is quit for the next. 
 
 Bard. Well said ; thou 'rt a good fellow. 
 
 Fee. Faith, I'll bear no base mind. 
 
 Re-enter Falstaif and the Justices. 
 
 Fat. Come, sir, which men shall I have? 
 
 Shal. Four of which you please. 
 
 Bard. Sir, a word with you : I have three pound 
 to free Mouldy and BuUcalf. 
 
 Fal. Go to; well. 
 
 Shal. Come, Sir John, which four will you have ? 
 
 FaL Do you choose for me. 260 
 
 Shal. Marry, then. Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble and 
 Shadow. 
 
 Fal. Mouldy and Bullcalf : for you, Mouldy, stay at 
 home till you are past service : and for your part, 
 Bullcalf, grow till you come unto it : 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 270 
 choose a man ? Care I for the limb, the thewes, 
 the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man ! 
 Give me the spirit, Master Shallow. Here 's 
 Wart ; you see what a ragged appearance it is : 
 a' shall charge you and discharge you with the 
 
 82
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 motion of a pewterer's hammer, come off and on 
 swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's 
 bucket. And this same half-faced fellow, 
 Shadow ; give me this man : he presents no 
 mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as 280 
 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 
 caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph. 
 
 Bard. Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus. 
 
 Fal. Come, manage me your caliver. So : very well : 
 go to : very good, exceeding good. O, give me 
 always a little, lean, old chapt, bald shot. Well 
 said, i' faith. Wart ; thou 'rt a good scab : hold, 290 
 there 's a tester for thee. 
 
 Shal. He is not his craft's-master ; he doth not do it 
 right. I remember at Mile-end Green, when I 
 lay at Clement's Inn, — I was then Sir Dagonet in 
 Arthur's show, — there was a little quiver fellow, 
 and a' would manage you his piece thus ; and a' 
 would about and about, and come you in and 
 come you in : ' rah, tah, tah,' would a' say ; 
 ' bounce ' would a' say ; and away again would 
 a' go, and again would a' come : I shall ne'er see 300 
 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, gentle- 
 men both : I thank you : I must a dozen mile to- 
 night. Bardolph, give the soldiers coats. 
 
 Shal. Sir John, the Lord bless you! God prosper 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 your affairs ! God send us peace ! At your re- 
 turn visit our house; let our old acquaintance 
 be renewed: peradventure I will with ye to the 310 
 court. 
 
 fai 'Fore God, I would you w^ould, Master Shallow. 
 
 Jhal. Go to; I have spoke at a word. God keep 
 you. 
 
 Fal. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. [Exeunt 
 Justices.] On, Bardolph; lead the men away. 
 [E.veioit Bardolph, Recruits, etc.] As I return, 
 I will fetch off these justices : I do see the bot- 
 tom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how sub- 
 ject ye old men are to this vice of lying! This 320 
 same starved justice hath done nothing but prate 
 to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats 
 he hath done about Tumbull Street ; 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 a' was naked, he was, for all the 
 world, like a forked radish, with a head fantas- 
 tically carved upon it with a knife: a' was so 
 forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight 330 
 were invisible : a' was the ver}^ genius of famine ; 
 yet lecherous as a monkey, and the whores 
 called him mandrake : a' came ever in the rear- 
 ward of the fashion, and sung those tunes to the 
 overscutched huswives that he heard the carmen 
 w^histle, and sware they were his fancies or his 
 good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger 
 become a squire, and talks as familiarly of John 
 a Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him ; 
 
 84
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 and I '11 be sworn a' ne'er saw him but once in 340 
 the Tilt-yard; and then he burst his head for 
 crowding among the marshal's men. I saw it, 
 and told John a Gaunt he beat his own name ; 
 for you might have thrust him and all his apparel 
 into an eel-skin ; the case of a treble houtboy 
 was a mansion for him, a court : and now has 
 he land and beefs. Well, I '11 be acquainted 
 with him, if I return ; and it shall go hard but I 
 will make him a philosopher's two stones to me : 
 if the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see 350 
 no reason in the law of nature but I may snap 
 at him. Let time shape, and there an end. [Exit. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Yorkshire. Gaidtrce Forest. 
 
 Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, 
 Hastings, and others. 
 
 Arch. What is this forest call'd? 
 
 Hast. 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an 't shall please your grace. 
 
 Arch. Here stand, my lords ; and send discoverers 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 received 
 New-dated letters from Northumberland ; 
 Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus : 
 Here doth he wish his person, with such powers 10 
 
 85
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 As might hold sortance with his quality, 
 The which he could not levy ; whereupon 
 He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes. 
 To Scotland : and concludes in hearty prayers 
 That your attempts may overlive the hazard 
 And fearful meeting of their opposite. 
 Mowb. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground 
 And dash themselves to pieces. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Hast. Now, what news? 
 
 Mess. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile, 
 
 In goodly form comes on the enemy ; 20 
 
 And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number 
 Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand. 
 
 Mowb. The just proportion that we gave them out. 
 Let us sway on and face them in the field. 
 
 Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us here ? 
 
 Enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Mozvb. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland. 
 
 West. Health and fair greeting from our general, 
 The prince. Lord John and Duke of Lancaster. 
 
 Arch. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace : 
 What doth concern your coming? 
 
 West. Then, my lord, 30 
 
 Unto your grace do I in chief address 
 The substance of my speech. If that rebellion 
 Came like itself, in base and abject routs, 
 Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags, 
 And countenanced by boys and beggary ; 
 I say, if damn'd commotion so appeared,
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 In his true, native and most proper shape, 
 You, reverend father, and these noble lords 
 Had not been here, to dress the ugly form 
 Of base and bloody insurrection 40 
 
 With your fair honours. You, lord Archbishop. 
 Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd, 
 Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd. 
 Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd. 
 Whose white investments figure innocence. 
 The dove and very blessed spirit of peace. 
 Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself 
 Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace. 
 Into the harsh and boisterous tongue of war ; 
 Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, 50 
 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, 60 
 
 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 m^ more plainly. 
 I have in equal balance justly weigh'd 
 What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we sufifer, 
 
 87
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And find our griefs heavier than our offences. 
 
 We see which way the stream of time doth run, 70 
 
 And are enforced from our most quiet there 
 
 By the rough torrent of occasion; 
 
 And have the summary of all our griefs, 
 
 When time shall serve, to show in articles; 
 
 Which long ere this we offer'd to the king, 
 
 And might by no suit gain our audience: 
 
 When we are wrong'd and would unfold our griefs, 
 
 We are denied access unto his person 
 
 Even by those men that most have done us wrong. 
 
 The dangers of the days but newly gone, 80 
 
 Whose memory is wfitten on the earth 
 
 With yet appearing blood, and the examples 
 
 Of every minute's instance, present now, 
 
 Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms. 
 
 Not to break peace 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 have you been galled by the king? 
 What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you, 90 
 That you should seal this lawless bloody book 
 Of forged rebellion with a seal divine. 
 And consecrate commotion's bitter edge? 
 
 Aj'ch. My brother general, the commonwealth, 
 To brother born an household cruelty, 
 I make my quarrel in particular. 
 
 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 davs before, 100
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 And suffer the condition of these times 
 To lay a heavy and unequal hand 
 Upon our honours? 
 
 West. O, my good Lord Mowbray, 
 
 Construe the times to their necessities, 
 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 
 That you should have an inch of any ground 
 To build a grief on: were you not restored no 
 To all the Duke of Norfolk's signories, 
 Your noble and right well remember'd father's? 
 
 Mozvb. What thing, in honour, had my father lost, 
 That need to be revived and breathed in me? 
 The king that loved him, as the state stood then, 
 Was force perforce compell'd to banish him: 
 And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he. 
 Being mounted and both roused in their seats, 
 Their neighing coursers daring of the spur, 119 
 
 Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, 
 Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel 
 And the loud trumpet blowing them together, 
 Then, then, when there was nothing could have stay'd 
 j\Iy 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. 130 
 
 89
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 The Earl of Hereford was reputed then 
 
 In England the most valiant gentleman: 
 
 Who knows on whom fortune would then have 
 
 smiled? 
 But if your father had been victor there, 
 He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry : 
 For all the country in a general voice 
 Cried hate upon him ; and all their prayers and love 
 Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on 
 And bless'd and graced indeed, more than the king. 
 But this is mere digression from my purpose. 140 
 
 Here come I from our princely general 
 To know your griefs; to tell you from his grace 
 That he will give you audience; and wherein 
 It shall appear that your demands are just, 
 You shall enjoy them, every thing set off 
 That might so much as think you enemies. 
 
 Mowh. But he hath forced 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: 150 
 For, lo ! within a ken our army lies. 
 Upon mine honour, all too confident 
 To give admittance to a thought of fear. 
 Our battle is more full of names than yours, 
 Our men more perfect in the use of arms. 
 Our armour all as strong, our cause the best; 
 Then reason will our hearts should be as good: 
 Say you not then our offer is compell'd. 
 
 Mowh. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley. 
 
 West. That argues but the shame of your offence: 160 
 A rotten case abides no handling. 
 
 90
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Hast. Hath the Prince John a full commission, 
 In every ample virtue of his father. 
 To hear and absolutely to determine 
 Of what conditions we shall stand .upon? 
 
 West. That is intended in the general's name: 
 I muse you make so slight a question. 
 
 Arch. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this 
 schedule, 
 For this contains our general grievances: 
 Each several article herein redress'd, 170 
 
 All members of our cause, both here and hence, 
 That are insinewed to this action. 
 Acquitted by a true substantial form, 
 And present execution of our wills 
 To us and to our purposes confined. 
 We come within our awful banks again. 
 And knit our powers to the arm of peace. 
 
 West. This will I show the general. Please you, lords. 
 In sight of both our battles we may meet; 
 And either end in peace, which God so frame! 180 
 Or to the place of difference call the swords 
 Which must decide it. 
 
 Arch. My lord, we will do so. [Exit West. 
 
 Mowb. There is a thing within my bosoui tells me 
 That no conditions of our peace can stand. 
 
 Hasf. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace 
 Upon such large terms and so absolute 
 As our conditions shall consist upon, 
 Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. 
 
 Mowb. Yea, but our valuation shall be such 
 
 That every slighc and false-derived cause, 190 
 
 Yea, every idle, nice and wanton reason 
 Shall to the king taste of this action; 
 
 91
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love, 
 We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind 
 That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff 
 And good from bad find no partition. 
 
 Aixh. No, no, my lord. Note this; the king is weary 
 Of dainty and such picking grievances : 
 For he hath found to end one doubt by death 
 Revives two greater in the heirs of life, 200 
 
 And therefore will he wipe his tables clean, 
 And keep no tell-tale to his memory 
 That may repeat and history his loss 
 To new remembrance; for full well he knows 
 He cannot so precisely weed this land 
 As his misdoubts present occasion: 
 His foes are so enrooted with his friends 
 That, plucking to unfix an enemy, 
 He doth unfasten so and shake a friend. 
 So that this land, like an offensive wife 210 
 
 That hath enraged him on to offer strokes. 
 As he is striking, holds his infant up, 
 And hangs resolved correction in the arm 
 That was uprear'd to execution, 
 
 Hast. Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods 
 On late offenders, that he now doth lack 
 The very instruments of chastisement 
 So that his power, like to a fangless lion. 
 May offer, but not hold. 
 
 Arch. 'Tis very true : 
 
 And therefore be assured, my good lard marshal, 
 If we do now make our atonement well, 221 
 
 Our peace will, like a broken limb united. 
 Grow stronger for the breaking. 
 
 92
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Mowh. 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. 
 Mozi'b. 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, Mozvbray, attended; afterzvards, 
 the Archbishop ; Hastings, and others: from the 
 other side, Prince John of Lancaster, and Westmore- 
 land; OiHcers, and others with them. 
 
 Lan. You are well encounter'd here, my cousin Mowbray : 
 Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop ; 
 And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all- 
 My Lord of York, it better show'd with you 
 When that your flock, assembled by the bell, 
 Encircled you to hear with reverence 
 Your exposition on the holy text. 
 Than now to see you here an iron man, 
 Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum. 
 Turning the word to sword and life to death. lo 
 
 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 
 
 93
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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 parHament ; 
 
 To us the imagined voice of God himself ; 
 
 The very opener and intelligencer 20 
 
 Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven 
 
 And our dull workings. O, who shall believe 
 
 But you misuse the reverence of your place. 
 
 Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, 
 
 As a false favourite doth his prince's name, 
 
 In deeds dishonourable? You have ta'en up. 
 
 Under the counterfeited zeal of God, 
 
 The subjects of his substitute, my father, 
 
 And both against the peace of heaven and him 
 
 Have here up-swarm'd them. 
 
 Arch. Good my Lord of Lancaster, 30 
 
 I am not here against your father's peace ; 
 But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland, 
 The time misorder'd doth, in common sense. 
 Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, 
 To hold our safety up. I sent your grace 
 The parcels and particulars of our grief. 
 The which hath been with scorn shoved from the 
 
 court, 
 Whereon this Hydra son of war is born ; 
 Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep 
 With grant of our most just and right desires, 40 
 And true obedience, of this madness cured. 
 Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty. 
 
 Mowh. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes 
 To the last man. 
 
 94
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Hast, And though we here fall down, 
 
 We have supplies to second our attempt : 
 If they miscarry, theirs shall second them ; 
 And so success of mischief shall be born, 
 And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up, 
 Whiles England shall have generation. 49 
 
 Lan. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow, 
 To sound the bottom of the after-times. 
 
 West. Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly 
 How far forth you do like their articles. 
 
 Lan. I like them all, and do allow them well ; 
 And swear here, by the honour of my blood, 
 My father's purposes have been mistook ; 
 And some about him have too lavishly 
 Wrested his meaning and authority. 
 My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd ; 
 Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you, 
 Discharge your powers unto their several counties. 
 As we will ours : and here between the armies 62 
 Let 's drink together friendly and embrace. 
 That all their eyes may bear those tokens home 
 Of our restored love and amity. 
 
 Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses. 
 
 Lan. I give it you, and will maintain my word: 
 And thereupon I drink unto your grace. 
 
 Hast. Go, captain, and deliver to the army 69 
 
 This news of peace : let them have pay, and part : 
 I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain. 
 
 [Exit OMcer, 
 
 Arch. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. 
 
 IVest, I pledge your grace ; and, if you knew what pains 
 I have bestow'd to breed this present peace, 
 
 95
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 You would drink freely : but my love to ye 
 
 Shall show itself more openly hereafter. 
 Arch. I do not doubt you. 
 West. I am glad of it. 
 
 Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray. 
 Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season ; 
 
 For I am, on the sudden, something ill. 80 
 
 Arch. Against ill chances men are ever merry ; 
 
 But heaviness foreruns the good event. 
 West. Therefore be merry, coz ; since sudden sorrow 
 
 Serves to say thus, ' some good thing comes to-morrow ?' 
 Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. 
 Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be true. 
 
 [Shouts zvithin. 
 Lan. The word of peace is render'd : hark, how they shout 1 
 Mozvb. This had been cheerful after victory. 
 Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest ; 
 
 For then both parties nobly are subdued, 90 
 
 And neither party loser. 
 Lan. Go, my lord. 
 
 And let our army be discharged too. 
 
 [Exit Westmoreland. 
 
 And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains 
 
 March by us, that we may peruse the men 
 
 We should have coped withal. 
 Arch. Go, good Lord Hastings. 
 
 And, ere they be dismissed, let them march by. 
 
 [Exit Hastings. 
 Lan. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together. 
 
 Re-enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? 
 96
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 West. The leaders, having charge from you to stand, 
 
 Will not go off until they hear you speak. lOO 
 
 Lan. They know their duties. 
 
 Re-enter Hastings. 
 
 Hast. My lord, our army is dispersed already : 
 
 Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their courses 
 East, west, north, south ; or, like a school broke up, 
 Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place. 
 
 West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings ; for the which 
 I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason : 
 And you, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray, 
 Of capital treason I attach you both. 
 
 Mowh. Is this proceeding just and honourable? no 
 
 West. Is your assembly so? 
 
 Arch. Will you thus break your faith ? , 
 
 -^o«. I pawn'd thee none : 
 
 I promised you redress of these same grievances 
 Whereof you did complain ; which, by mine honour, 
 I will perform with a most Christian care. 
 But for you, rebels, look to taste the due 
 Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours. 
 Most shallowly did you these arms commence. 
 Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence. 
 Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray : 120 
 God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day. 
 Some guard these traitors to the block of death. 
 Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 97
 
 Act IV. Sc. Hi. THE SECOND PAR'^ C^ 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Another part of the forest. 
 
 Alarum. 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. 
 
 fal. Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is 
 your degree, and your place the dale : Colevile 
 shall be still your name, a traitor your degree, 
 and the dungeon your place, a place deep 
 enough ; so shall you be still Colevile of the 
 dale. 10 
 
 Cole. Are not you Sir John Falstaff ? 
 
 Fal. "As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye 
 yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do 
 sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they 
 weep for thy death : therefore rouse up fear and 
 trembling, and do observance to my mercy. 
 
 Cole. I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that 
 thought yield me. 
 
 Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly 
 
 of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any 20 
 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, 
 Blunt, and others, 
 l^an. The heat is past ; follow no further now: 
 
 08
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland. 
 
 [Exit Westmoreland. 
 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 Hfe, 
 One time or other break some gallows' back. 30 
 
 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 40 
 knight and valorous enemy. But what of that ? 
 he saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say, 
 with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, ' I came, 
 saw, and overcame.' 
 
 Lan. It was more of his courtesy that your deserving. 
 
 FqI. 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 on 't, Colevile kissing my 50 
 foot : to the which course if I be enforced, if 
 you do not all show like gilt two-pences to me, 
 and I in the clear sky of fame o'ershine you as 
 much as the full moon doth the cinders of the 
 element, which show like pins' heads to her, 
 
 99
 
 Act IV. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 believe not the word of the noble : therefore let 
 
 me have right, and let desert mount. 
 Lan. Thine 's too heavy to mount. 
 Fal. Let it shine, then. 
 
 Lan. Thine 's too thick to shine. 60 
 
 Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do 
 
 me good, and call it what you will. 
 Lan. Is thy name Colevile ? 
 Cole, It is, my lord. 
 
 Lan, A famous rebel art thou, Colevile? 
 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 ruled by me. 
 
 You should have won them dearer than you have. 
 Fal. I know not how they sold themselves : but thou, 70 
 
 like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; 
 
 and I thank thee for thee. 
 
 Re-enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Lan. Now, have you left pursuit? 
 
 West. Retreat is made and execution stay'd. 
 
 Lan. Send Colevile with his confederates 
 To York, to present execution : 
 Blunt, lead him hence ; and see you guard him sure. 
 [Exeunt Blunt and others zvith Colvile. 
 And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords : 
 I hear the king my father is sore siclc : 
 Our news shall go before us to his majesty, 80 
 
 Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him ; 
 And we with sober speed will follow you. 
 
 Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go 
 
 Through Gloucestershire: and, when you come to 
 court, 
 
 100
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 Stand my good lord, pray, in your good report. 
 
 Lan. Fare you well, Falstaff : I, in my condition, 
 Shall better speak of you than you deserve. 
 
 [Exeunt all except Falstaff. 
 
 Fal. I would you had but the wit : 'twere better than 
 your dukedom. Good faith, this same young 
 sober-blooded boy doth not love me ; nor a man 90 
 cannot make him laugh ; but that 's no marvel, 
 he drinks no wine. There 's never none of these 
 demure boys come to any proof ; for thin drink 
 doth so over-cool their blood, and making many 
 fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male 
 green-sickness; and then, when they marry, 
 they get wenches : they are generally fools and 
 cowards; which some of us should be too, but 
 for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a 
 two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the too 
 brain; dries me there all the foolish and dull 
 and crudy vapours which environ it; makes it 
 apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, 
 fiery and delectable shapes ; which, delivered 
 o'er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, 
 becomes excellent wit. The second 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 no 
 warms it and makes it course from the inwards 
 to the parts extreme: it illumineth the face, 
 which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest 
 of this little kingdom, man, to arm ; and then 
 the vital commoners and inland petty spirits
 
 Act IV. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 muster me all to their captain, the heart, who, 
 great and pufifed up with this retinue, doth any 
 deed of courage ; and this valour comes of sher- 
 ris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing with- 
 out sack, for that sets it a-work ; and learning a 120 
 mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till sack com- 
 mences it and sets it in act and use. Hereof 
 comes it that Prince Harry is valiant; for the 
 cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, 
 he hath, like lean sterile and bare land, manured, 
 husbanded and tilled with excellent endeavour of 
 drinking good and good store of fertile sherris, 
 that he is become very hot and valiant. If I 
 had a thousand sons, the first humane principle 
 I would teach them should be, to forswear thin 130 
 potations, and to addict themselves to sack. 
 
 Enter Bardolph, 
 
 How now, Bardolph ? 
 
 Bard. The army is discharged all and gone. 
 
 Fal. Let them go. I '11 through Gloucestershire ; 
 and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, 
 esquire : I have him already tempering between 
 my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal 
 with him. Come away. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber. 
 
 Enter the King, the Princes Thomas of Clarence and 
 Humphrey of Gloucester, Warwick, and others. 
 King. Now, lords, if God doth give successful end 
 To this debate that bleedeth at our doors. 
 
 102
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. iv. 
 
 We will our youth lead on to higher fields 
 
 And draw no swords but what are sanctified. 
 
 Our navy is address'd, our power collected, 
 
 Our substitutes in absence well invested, 
 
 And every thing lies level to our wish: 
 
 Only, we w^ant a little personal strength; 
 
 And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot. 
 
 Come underneath the yoke of government. lo 
 
 War. Both which we doubt not but your majesty 
 Shall soon enjoy. 
 
 King. Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, 
 
 Where is the prince your brother? 
 
 Gloii. I think he 's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. 
 
 King. And how accompanied? 
 
 Glou. I do not know, my lord. 
 
 King. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him? 
 
 Clou. No, my good lord, he is in presence here. 
 
 Clai'. What would my lord and father? 
 
 King. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence. 19 
 How chance thou art not with the prince thy brother ? 
 He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas; 
 Thou hast a better place in his affection 
 Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy, 
 And noble offices thou mayst effect 
 Of mediation, after I am dead. 
 Between his greatness and thy other brethren : 
 Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love, 
 Nor lose the good advantage of his grace 
 By seeming cold or careless of his will; 
 For he is gracious, if he be observed: 30 
 
 He hath a tear for pity, and a hand 
 Open as day for melting charity: 
 
 103
 
 Act IV. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Yet notwithstanding, being incensed, he 's flint, 
 As humorous as winter, and as sudden 
 As flaws congealed in the spring of day. 
 His temper, therefore, must be well observed: 
 Chide him for faults, and do it reverently. 
 When you perceive his blood incHned to mirth; 
 But, being moody, give him line and scope, 
 Till that his passions, Hke a whale on ground, 40 
 Confound themselves with working. Learn this, 
 
 Thomas, 
 And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends, 
 A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in, 
 That the united vessel of their blood. 
 Mingled with venom of suggestion — 
 As, force perforce, the age will pour it in — 
 Shall never leak, though it do work as strong 
 As aconitum or rash gunpowder. 
 
 Clar. I shall observe him with all care and love. 
 
 King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, 
 Thomas? 
 
 Clar. He is not there to-day; he dines in London. 51 
 
 King. And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? 
 
 Clar. With Poins, and other his continual followers. 
 
 King. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds; 
 And he, the noble image of my youth. 
 Is overspread with them: therefore my grief 
 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death: 
 The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, 
 In forms imaginary, the unguided days 
 And rotten times that you shall look upon, 60 
 
 When I am sleeping with my ancestors. 
 For when his headstrong riot hath no curb, 
 104
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. iv. 
 
 When rage and hot blood are his counsellors, 
 When means and lavish manners meet together, 
 O, with what wings shall his affections fly 
 Towards fronting peril and opposed decay ! 
 
 War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite : 
 The prince but studies his companions 
 Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, 
 'Tis needful that the most immodest word 70 
 
 Be look'd upon and learn'd ; which once attain'd. 
 Your highness knows, comes to no further use 
 But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms, 
 The prince will in the perfectness of time 
 Cast off his followers ; and in their memory 
 Shall as a pattern or a measure live. 
 By which his grace must mete the lives of 'Others, 
 Turning past evils to advantages. 
 
 King. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb 
 In the dead carrion. 
 
 Enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Who's here? Westmoreland? 80 
 West. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness 
 Added to that that I am to deliver ! 
 Prince John your son doth kiss your grace's hand : 
 Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings and all 
 Are brought to the correction of your law ; 
 There is not now a rebel's sword unsheathed. 
 But Peace puts forth her olive every where. 
 The manner how this action hath been borne 
 Here at more leisure may your highness read, 
 With every course in his particular. 90 
 
 King. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, 
 
 105
 
 Act IV. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Which ever in the haunch of winter sings 
 The Hfting up of day. 
 
 Enter Harcourt. 
 
 Look, here 's more news. 
 
 Har, From enemies heaven keep your majesty; 
 
 And, when they stand against you, may they fall 
 
 As those that I am come to tell you of ! 
 
 The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, 
 
 With a great power of English and of Scots, 
 
 Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown : 
 
 The manner and true order of the fight, too 
 
 This packet, please it you, contains at large. 
 
 King. 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 : no 
 O me ! come near me ; now I am much ill. 
 
 Glou. Comfort, your majesty! 
 
 Clar. O my royal father ! 
 
 West, My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up. 
 
 War. Be patient, princes ; you do know, these fits 
 Are with his highness very ordinary. 
 Stand from him, give him air ; he '11 straight be well. 
 
 Clar. No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs : 
 The incessant care and labour of his mind 
 Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in, 
 io6
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 So thin that life looks through and will break out. 
 Gloii. The people fear me ; for they do observe 121 
 
 Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature : 
 
 The seasons change their manners, as the year 
 
 Had found some months asleep and leap'd them over. 
 Clar. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between ; 
 
 And the old folk, time's doting chronicles. 
 
 Say it did so a little time before 
 
 That our great-grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died. 
 War. Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers. 
 Glott. This apoplexy w^ill certain be his end. 130 
 
 King. I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence 
 
 Into some other chamber : softly, pray. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Another chamber. 
 
 The King lying on a bed: Clarence, Gloucester, 
 Warwick, and others in attendance. 
 
 King. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends ; 
 
 Unless some dull and favourable hand 
 
 Will whisper music to my weary spirit. 
 War. Call for the music in the other room. 
 King. Set me the crown upon my pillow here. 
 Clar. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. 
 War. Less noise, less noise ! 
 
 Enter Prince Henry. 
 
 Prince. Who saw the Duke of Clarence ? 
 
 Clar. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. 
 Prince, How now ! rain within doors, and none abroad ! 
 How doth the king? . 10 
 
 107
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glou. Exceeding ill. 
 
 Prince. Heard he the good news yet? 
 
 Tell it him. 
 
 Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it. 
 
 Prince. If he be sick with joy, he '11 recover without 
 physic. 
 
 War. Not so much noise, my lords : sweet prince, speak 
 low; 
 The king your father is disposed to sleep. 
 
 Clar. Let us withdraw into the other room. 
 
 JVar. Will 't please your grace to £;o along with us ? 
 
 Prince. No ; I will sit and watch here by the king. 20 
 
 [Exeunt all except the Prince. 
 Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, 
 Being so troublesome a bedfellow? 
 O polish'd perturbation ! golden care ! 
 That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide 
 To many a watchful night ! sleep with it now ! "=' 
 Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet 
 As he whose brow with homely biggen bound 
 Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! 
 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit 
 Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, 30 
 
 That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath 
 There lies a downy feather which stirs not : 
 Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
 Perforce must move. My gracious lord ! my father ! 
 This sleep is sound indeed ; this is a sleep. 
 
 That from this golden rigol hath divorced ■ 
 
 So many English kings. Thy due from me 
 Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood. 
 Which nature, love, and fiHal tenderness, 
 108
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously : 40 
 
 My due from thee is this imperial crown. 
 
 Which, as immediate from thy place and blood. 
 
 Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits. 
 
 Which God shall guard : and put the world's whole 
 
 strength 
 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. 
 
 King. Warwick ! Gloucester ! Clarence ! 
 
 Re-enter IVarzvick, Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest. 
 
 Clar. Doth the king call? 
 
 War. What would your majesty ? How fares your grace ? 
 King. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? 51 
 Clar. We left the prince my brother here, my liege. 
 
 Who undertook to sit and watch by you. 
 King. The Prince of Wales ! Where is he ? let me see 
 
 f him: 
 
 He is not here. 
 War. This door is open ; he is gone this way. 
 Clou. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd. 
 King. Where is the crown ? who took it from my pillow ? 
 War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. 
 King. The prince hath ta'en it hence : go, seek him out. 60 
 
 Is he so hasty that he doth suppose 
 
 My sleep my death ? 
 
 Find him, my Lord of Warwick ; chide him thither. 
 
 {Exit Warzvick. 
 
 This part of his conjoins with my disease, 
 
 And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you 
 are! 
 
 109
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 How quickly nature falls into revolt 
 
 When gold becomes her object! 
 
 For this the foolish over-careful fathers 
 
 Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains 
 
 with care, 
 Their bones with industry ; 73 
 
 For this they have engrossed and piled up 
 The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold ; 
 For this they have been thoughtful to invest 
 Their sons with arts and martial exercises : 
 When, like the bee, culling from every flower 
 The virtuous sweets. 
 
 Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey, 
 We bring it to the hive ; and, like the bees, 
 Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter taste 
 Yield his engrossments to the ending father. 80 
 
 Re-enter Warzvick. 
 
 Now, where is he that will not stay so long 
 
 Till his friend sickness hath determined me? f 
 
 War. My lord, I found the prince in the next room, 
 Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks. 
 With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow. 
 That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood. 
 Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife 
 With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither. 
 
 King. But wherefore did he take away the crown? 
 
 Re-enter Prince Henry. 
 
 Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry. 
 Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. 91 
 
 [Exeunt Warwick and the rest. 
 no
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 Prince. I never thought to hear you speak again. 
 
 King. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought: 
 I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. 
 Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair 
 That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours 
 Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth! 
 Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee. 
 Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity 
 Is held from falling with so weak a wind lOO 
 
 That it will quickly drop: my day is dim. 
 Thou hast stolen that which after some few hours 
 Were thine without offence; and at my death 
 Thou hast seal'd up my expectation: 
 Thy life did manifest thou lovedst me not. 
 And thou wilt have me die assured of it. 
 Thou hidest a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, 
 Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, 
 To stab at half an hour of my life. 
 What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour? no 
 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! 120 
 
 Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence 
 And to the English court assemble now. 
 From every region, apes of idleness! 
 Ill
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum: 
 Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, 
 Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit 
 The oldest sins the newest kind of ways? 
 Be happy, he will trouble you no more; 
 England shall double gild his treble guilt, 
 England shall give him ofhce, honour, might; 130 
 For the fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks 
 The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog 
 Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. 
 
 my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows! 
 When that my care could not withhold thy riots, 
 What wilt thou do when riot is thy care? 
 
 O, thou wilt be a wilderness again. 
 Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants! 
 Prince. O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears, 
 
 The moist impediments unto my speech, 140 
 
 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 effect it more 
 Than as your honour and as your renown, 
 Let me no more from this obedience rise, 
 Which my most inward true and duteous spirit 
 Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending. 
 
 God witness with me, when I here came in, 150 
 
 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! 
 112
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, 
 
 And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, 
 
 I spake unto this crown as having sense, 
 
 And thus upbraided it : ' The care on thee depending 
 
 Hath fed upon the body of my father; i6o 
 
 Therefore, thou best of gold are worst of gold: 
 
 Other, less fine in carat, is m.ore precious. 
 
 Preserving life in medicine potable; 
 
 But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, 
 
 Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege, 
 
 Accusing it, I put it on my head. 
 
 To try with it, as with an enemy 
 
 That iiad before my face murder'd my father. 
 
 The quarrel of a true inheritor. 
 
 But if it did infect my blood with joy, 170 
 
 Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride; 
 
 If any rebel or vain spirit of mine 
 
 Did with the least affection of a welcome 
 
 Give entertainment to the might of it, 
 
 Let God for ever keep it from my head, 
 
 And make me as the poorest vassal is. 
 
 That doth with awe and terror kneel to it! 
 
 King. O my son, 
 
 God put it in thy mind to take it hence, 
 
 That thou mightst win the more thy father's love. 
 
 Pleading so wisely in excuse of it! 181 
 
 Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed; 
 
 And hear, I think, the very latest counsel 
 
 That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son. 
 
 By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways 
 
 I met this crown ; and I myself know well 
 
 How troublesome it sat upon my head. 
 
 "3
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 To thee it shall descend with better quiet, 
 
 Better opinion, better confirmation; 
 
 For all the soil of the achievement goes 190 
 
 With me into the earth. It seem'd in me 
 
 But as an honour snatched with boisterous hand. 
 
 And I had many living to upbraid 
 
 My gain of it by their assistances; 
 
 Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed. 
 
 Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears 
 
 Thou see'st with peril 1 have answered; 
 
 For all my reign hath been but as a scene 
 
 Acting that argument : and now my death 
 
 Changes the mode; for what in me was purchased, 
 
 Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort; 201 
 
 So thou the garland wear'st successively. 
 
 Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do. 
 
 Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green ; 
 
 And all my friends, which thou must make thy 
 
 friends. 
 Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out; 
 By whose fell working I was first advanced 
 And by whose power I well might lodge a fear 
 To be again displaced: which to avoid, 
 Icutthemof¥; and had a purpose now 210 
 
 To lead out many to the Holy Land, 
 Lest rest and lying still might make them look 
 Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, 
 Be it thy course to busy giddy minds 
 With foreign quarrels ; that action, hence borne out, 
 May waste the memory of the former days. 
 More would I, but my lungs are wasted so 
 That strength of speech is utterly denied me. 
 
 114
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 How I came by the crown, O God forgive ; 
 And grant it may with thee in true peace Uve ! 220 
 Prince. My gracious Hege, 
 
 You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me ; 
 Then plan and right must my possession be : 
 Which I with more than with a common pain 
 'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain. 
 
 Enter Lord John of Lancaster. 
 
 King. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. 
 Lan. Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father ! 
 King. Thou bring' st me happiness and peace, son John ; 
 
 But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown 
 
 From this bare wither'd trunk : upon thy sight 230 
 
 M^ worldly business makes a period. 
 
 Where is my Lord of Warwick ? 
 Prince. My Lord of Warwick ! 
 
 Re-enter Warzvick, and others. 
 
 King. Doth any name particular belong 
 
 Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ? 
 
 War. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord. 
 
 King. Laud be to God ! even there my life must end. 
 It hath been prophesied to me many years, 
 I should not die but in Jerusalem ; 
 Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land : 
 But bear me to that chamber ; there I '11 lie ; 240 
 
 In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. [Exeunt. 
 
 IIS
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Gloucestershire. Shallozv's house. 
 Enter Shallozv, Falstaif, Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Shal. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to- 
 night. What, Davy, I say! 
 
 Pal. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow. 
 
 Shal. I will not excuse you ; you shall not be ex- 
 cused; excuses shall not be admitted; there is 
 no excuse shall serve ; you shall not be excused. 
 Why, Davy. 
 
 Enter Davy. 
 
 « 
 
 Davy. Here, sir. 
 
 Shal. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; 
 
 let me see, Davy; let me see: yea, marry, lo 
 William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, 
 you shall not be excused. 
 
 Davy. Marry, sir, thus ; those precepts cannot be 
 served : and, again, sir, shall we sow the head- 
 land with wheat ? 
 
 ShMl. 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 cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not 20 
 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 ?
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Shal. A' shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a 
 couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, 
 and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William 
 cook. 
 
 Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir ? 30 
 
 Shal. Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i' 
 the court is better than a penny in purse. Use 
 his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, 
 and will backbite. 
 
 Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for 
 they have marvellous foul linen. 
 
 Shal. Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, 
 Davy. 
 
 Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William 
 
 Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes o' the 40 
 hill. 
 
 Shal. There is 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 wor- 
 ship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot 50 
 once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave 
 against an honest man, I have but a very little 
 credit with your worship. The knave is mine 
 honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your 
 worship, let him be countenanced. 
 
 Shal. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look 
 about, Davy. [Exit Davy.] Where are you, 
 
 117
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your 
 boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph. 
 Bard. I am glad to see your worship. 60 
 
 Shal. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master 
 Bardolph: and welcome, my tall fellow {to the 
 Pagc.'\ Come, Sir John. 
 Fal. I '11 follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. 
 \Exit Shallozi'.] Bardolph, look to our horses. 
 [Exeunt Bardolph and Page.] 'If I were sawed 
 into quantities, I should make four dozen of 
 such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. 
 It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable co- 
 herence of his men's spirits and his: they, by 70 
 observing of him, do bear themselves like fool- 
 ish justices; he, by conversing with them, is 
 turned into a justice-like serving-man: their 
 spirits are so married in conjunction with the 
 participation of society that they flock together 
 in consent, 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: if to his men, I would curry with Mas- 
 ter Shallow that no man could better command 
 his servants. It is certain that either wise bear- 80 
 ing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take 
 diseases, one of another: therefore let men take 
 heed of their company. I will devise matter 
 enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince 
 Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of 
 six fashions, which is four terms, or two ac- 
 tions, and a' shall laught without intervallums. 
 O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and 
 a jest with a sad brow will do with a fel- 
 
 118
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 low that never had the ache in his shoulders ! 90 
 S; you shall see him laugh till his face be like a 
 wet cloak ill laid up ! 
 
 low. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Westminster. The palace. 
 Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief Justice, meeting. 
 War. How now, my lord chief justice! whither away? 
 Ch Jti^t. How doth the king? 
 
 ran Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended. 
 Ch. Just. I hope, not dead^^ ^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^,^^, ^^ ^^^^^^ . 
 
 "^nd to our purposes he lives no more. 
 a,. jTst. I would his majesty had caird me with him: 
 The service that I truly did his hte 
 Hath left me open to all injuries 
 War. Indeed I think the young king loves you not. 
 a 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 Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmore- 
 land, and others. 
 War. Here comes the heavy fsue 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. 
 
 119
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 y Good morrow, cousin. 
 
 That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort ! 
 Ch. Just. O God, I fear all will be overturn' d ! 
 Lan. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. 20 
 Gloii. 
 Clar. 
 
 Lan. We meet like men that had forgot to speak. 
 Wai'. We do remember ; but our argument 
 
 Is all too heavy to admit much talk. 
 Lan. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy ! 
 Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier ! 
 Gloii. 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. 
 Lan. Though no man be assured what grace to find, 30 
 
 You stand in coldest expectation : 
 
 I am the sorrier ; would 'twere otherwise. 
 Clar. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstafif fair ; 
 
 Which swims against your stream of quality. 
 Ch. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour, 
 
 Led by the impartial conduct of my soul ; 
 
 And never shall you see that I will beg 
 
 A ragged and forestall'd remission. 
 
 If truth and upright innocency fail me, 
 
 I '11 to the king my master that is dead, 40 
 
 And tell him who hath sent me after him. 
 War. Here comes the prince. 
 
 Enter King Henry the fifth, attended. 
 
 Ch. Just. Good morrow, and God save your majesty ! 
 King. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty. 
 
 Sits not so easy on me as you think. 
 
 Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear : 
 
 120
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 This is the EngHsh, not the Turkish court; 
 
 Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, 
 
 But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, 
 
 For, by my faith, it very well becomes you: 50 
 
 Sorrow so royally in you appears 
 
 That I will deeply put the fashion on. 
 
 And wear it in my heart: why then, be sad; 
 
 But entertain no more of it, good brothers. 
 
 Than a joint burden laid upon us all. 
 
 For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured, 
 
 I '11 be your father and your brother too; 
 
 Let me but bear your love, I '11 bear your cares: 
 
 Yet weep that Harry's dead; and so will I; 
 
 But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears 60 
 
 By number into hours of happiness. 
 
 Princes. We hope no other from your majesty. 
 
 King. You all look strangely on me: and you most; 
 You are, I think, assured I love you not. 
 
 Ch. Just. I am assured, if I be measured rightly, 
 Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me. 
 
 Fing. No! 
 
 How might a prince of my great hopes forget 
 So great indignities you laid upon me? 
 What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison 70 
 The immediate heir of England ! Was this easy ? 
 May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten? 
 
 C/i. Just. I then did use the person of your father; 
 The image of his power lay then in me : 
 And, in the administration of his law, 
 Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, 
 Your highness pleased to forget my place, 
 The majesty and power of law and justice, 
 121
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 The image of the king whom I presented, 
 And struck me in the very seat of judgement; 80 
 Whereon, as an offender to your father, 
 I give 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 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 body. 90 
 Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours ; 
 Be now the father and propose a son. 
 Hear your own dignity so much profaned. 
 See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted. 
 Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd; 
 And then imagine me taking your part. 
 And in your power soft silencing your son: 
 After this cold considerance, sentence me ; 
 And, as you are a king, speak in your state 
 What I have done that misbecame my place, 100 
 
 My person, or my liege's sovereignty. 
 King, You are right, justice, and you weigh this well; 
 Therefore still bear the balance and the sword: 
 And I do wish your honours may increase, 
 Till you do live to see a son of mine 
 Offend you, and obey you, as I did. 
 So shall I live to speak my father's words: 
 * Happy am I, that have_ a man so bold, 
 That dares do justice on my proper son; 
 And not less happy, having such a son, 110 
 
 122
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 That would deliver up his greatness so 
 Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me: 
 For which, I do commit into your hand 
 The unstained sword that you have used to bear ; 
 With this remembrance, that you use the same 
 With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit 
 As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand. 
 You shall be as a father to my youth : 
 My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, 
 And I will stoop and humble my intents 120 
 
 To your well-practised wise directions. 
 And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you ; 
 My father is gone wild into his grave, 
 For in his tomb lie my affections ; 
 And with his spirit sadly I survive, 
 To mock the expectation of the world, 
 To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out 
 Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down 
 After my seeming. The tide of blood in me 
 Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now : 130 
 
 Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, 
 Where it shall mingle with the state of floods, 
 And flow henceforth in formal majesty. 
 Now call we our high court of parliament : 
 And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, 
 That the great body of our state may go 
 In equal rank with the best govern'd nation ; 
 That war, or peace, or both at once, may be 
 As things acquainted and familiar to us ; 
 In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. 140 
 Our coronation done, we will accite. 
 As I before remember' d, all our state : 
 123
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And, God consigning to my good intents, 
 
 No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, 
 
 God shorten Harry's happy life one day. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Gloucestershire. Shallozv's orchard. 
 
 Enter Falstaif, Shallozv, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, 
 and the Page. 
 
 Shal. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an 
 
 arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of my 
 
 own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so 
 
 forth : come, cousin Silence : and then to bed. 
 Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling 
 
 and a rich. 
 Shal. Barren, barren, barren ; beggars all, beggars 
 
 all, Sir John : marry, good air. Spread, Davy ; 
 
 spread, Davy ; well said, Davy. 
 Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses ; he is your lo 
 
 serving-man and your husband. 
 Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good var- 
 
 let, Sir John : by the mass, I have drunk too 
 
 much sack at supper: a good varlet. Now sit 
 
 down, now sit down : come, cousin. 
 Sil. Ah, sirrah ! quoth-a, we shall 
 
 Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer. [Singing. 
 
 And praise God for the merry year ; 
 
 When flesh is cheap and females dear, 
 
 And lusty lads roam here and there 20 
 
 So merrily, 
 And ever among so merrily. 
 124
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Fal. There 's a merry heart I Good Master Silence, 
 
 I '11 give you a health for that anon. 
 Shai Give master Bardolph some wine, Davy. 
 Davy. Sweet, sir, sit ; I '11 be with you anon ; most 
 sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master page, 
 sit. Proface ! What you want in meat, we '11 
 have in drink ; but you must bear ; the heart 's 
 all. [Exit. 30 
 
 Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph ; and, my little 
 
 soldier there, be merry. 
 Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife has all ; [Singing, 
 
 For women are shrews, both short and tall : 
 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all, 
 
 And welcome merry Shrove-tide. 
 Be merry, be merry. 
 Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been a man 
 
 of this mettle. 
 ^^7. Who, I ? I have been merry twice and once ere 40 
 now. 
 
 Re-enter Davy. 
 
 Davy. There 's a dish of leather-coats for you. 
 
 [To Bardolph. 
 Shal. Davy! ' 
 Davy. Your worship ! I '11 be with you straight 
 
 [to Bardolph]. A cup of wine, sir? 
 Sil. A cup of wine that 's brisk and fine, [Singing. 
 
 And drink unto the leman mine ; 
 And a merry heart lives long-a. 
 Fal. Well said. Master Silence. 
 Sil. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet 50 
 
 o' the night. 
 Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence. 
 
 12?,
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come; [Singing. 
 
 I '11 pledge you a mile to the bottom. 
 
 Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest 
 any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. 
 Welcome, my little tiny thief [to the Page], and 
 welcome indeed too. I '11 drink to Master Bar- 
 dolph, and to all the cavaleros about London. 
 
 Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die. 60 
 
 Bard. An I might see you there, Davy, — 
 
 Shal. By the mass, you '11 crack a quart together, ha ! 
 will you not. Master Bardolph? 
 
 Bard. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. 
 
 Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee : the knave will 
 stick by thee, I can assure thee that. A' will 
 not out ; he is true bred. 
 
 Bard. And I '11 stick by him, sir. 
 
 Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be 
 
 merry. [Knocking within.] Look who's at 70 
 door there, ho! who knocks? [Exit Davy. 
 
 Fal. Why, now you have done me right. 
 
 [To Silence, seeing him take off. a bumper. 
 
 Sil. Do me right, [Singing. 
 
 And dub me knight : 
 Samingo. 
 Is 't not so ? 
 
 Fal. 'Tis so. 
 
 Sil. Is 't so ? Why then, say an old man can do 
 somewhat. 
 
 Re-enter Davy. 
 
 Davy. An 't please your worship, there 's one Pistol 80 
 
 come from the court with news. 
 Fal. From the court ! let him come in. 
 
 126
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V, Sc. iii. 
 
 Enter Pistol 
 
 How now, Pistol ! 
 Pist. Sir John, God save you ! 
 Pal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol ? 
 Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. 
 
 Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest 
 
 men in this realm. 
 SiL By 'r lady, I think a' be, but goodman Puff of 
 
 Barson. 90 
 
 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. 
 Pah I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this 
 
 world, 
 Pist. A foutre for the world and worldlings base ! 
 
 I speak of Africa and golden joys. 100 
 
 Pal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news ? 
 
 Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. 
 SiL And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. [Singing. 
 
 Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? 
 
 And shall good news be baffled ? 
 
 Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. 
 Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding. 
 Pist. Whey then, lament therefore. 
 Shal. Give me pardon, sir : if, sir, you come with 
 
 news from the court, I take it there's but two no 
 
 ways, either to utter them, or to conceal them. 
 
 I am, sir, under the king, in some authority. 
 
 1:27
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Pist. Under which king, Besonian ? speak, or die. 
 
 Shal. Under King Harry. 
 
 Pist. Harry the fourth ? or fifth ? 
 
 ShaL Harry the fourth. 
 
 Pist. A foutre for thine office ! 
 
 Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king; 
 Harry the fifth 's the man. I speak the truth : 
 When Pistol lies, do this ; and fig me, like 
 The bragging Spaniard. 
 
 Fal. What, is the old king dead? 120 
 
 Pist. As nail in door : the things I speak are just. 
 
 Fal. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master 
 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 knighthood for my fortune. 
 
 Pist. What ! I do bring good news. 
 
 Fal. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, 
 
 my Lord Shallow, — be what thou wilt; I am 130 
 fortune's steward — get on thy boots : we '11 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 com- 
 mandment. Blessed are they that have been 
 my friends; and woe to my lord chief justice! 
 Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! 140 
 
 * Where is the life that late I led ? ' say they : 
 Why here it is ; welcome these pleasant days ! 
 
 128
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. iv. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 London. A street. 
 
 Enter Beadles, dragging in Hostess Quickly and 
 Doll Tearsheet. 
 
 Host. No, thou arrant knave ; I would to God that I 
 might die, that I might have thee hanged : thou 
 hast drawn my shoulder out of joint. 
 
 First Bead. The constables have delivered her over to 
 me ; and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, 
 I warrant her: there hath been a man or two 
 lately killed about her. 
 
 Dol. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on ; I '11 
 tell thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal, 
 an the child I now go with do miscarry, thou lo 
 wert 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 mis- 
 carry ! 
 
 First Bead, If it do, you shall have a dozen of cush- 
 ions again ; you have but eleven now. Come, 
 I charge you both go with me ; for the man is 
 dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you. 20 
 
 Dol. I '11 tell you what, you thin man in a censer, 
 I will have you as soundly swinged for this, — 
 you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famished cor- 
 rectioner, if you be not swinged, I '11 forswear 
 half-kirtles. 
 
 First Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. 
 
 129
 
 Act V. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Host. O God, that right should thus overcome 
 
 might ! \\^ell, of sufferance comes ease. 
 Dol. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice. 30 
 Host. Ay, come, you starved blood-hound. 
 Dol. Goodman death, goodman bones! 
 Host. Thou atorfiy, thou! 
 
 Dol. Come, you thin thing; come, you rascal. 
 First Bead. Very well. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 A public place near Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Enter tzvo grooms, streunng rushes. 
 
 First Groom. More rushes, more rushes. 
 
 Sec. Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice. 
 
 First Groom. 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come 
 
 from the coronation : dispatch, dispatch. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Falstaff, SJiallozc, Pistol, Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Fal. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow ; I "* 
 will make the king do you grace : I will leer 
 upon him as a' comes by ; and do but mark the 
 countenance that he will give me. 
 
 Pist. God bless thy lungs, good knight. 
 
 Fal. Come here. Pistol; stand behind me. O, if I 10 
 had had time to have made new liveries, I would 
 have bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed 
 of you. But 'tis no matter ; this poor show doth 
 better: this doth infer the zeal I had to see him. 
 
 ShaL It doth so. 
 
 Fal, It shows my earnestness of affection, — 
 
 Shal. It doth so. 
 
 130
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. V. 
 
 Fal. My devotion, — 
 
 Shal It doth, it doth, it doth. 
 
 Fal. As it were, to ride day and night ; and not to 20 
 
 deUberate, not to remember, not to have patience 
 
 to shift me, — 
 Shal. It is best, certain. 
 Fal. But to stand stained with travel, and sweating 
 
 with desire to see him ; thinking of 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 ' obsque hoc nihil est : ' 
 
 'tis all in every part. 
 Shal. 'Tis so, indeed. 30 
 
 Pist. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, 
 
 And make thee rage. 
 
 Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts. 
 
 Is in base durance and contagious prison ; 
 
 Haled thither 
 
 By most mechanical and dirty hand : 
 
 Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's 
 snake, 
 
 For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth. 
 Fal. I will deliver her. 39 
 
 [Sho^its zvithln, and the trumpets sound. 
 Pist. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. 
 
 Enter the King and his train, the Lord Chief Justice 
 among them. 
 
 Fal. God save thy grace. King Hal ! my royal Hal ! 
 Pist. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal 
 
 imp of fame ! 
 Fal. God save thee, my sweet boy ! 
 
 131
 
 Act V. Sc. V. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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 ! 
 
 King. I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers ; 
 How ill white hairs become a fool and jester! 
 I have long dream'd of such a kind of man, 50 
 
 So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane ; 
 But, being awaked, I do despise my dream. 
 Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace ; 
 Leave gormandizing ; know the grave doth gape 
 For thee thrice wider than for other men. 
 Reply not to me with a fool-born jest : 
 Presume not that I am the thing I was ; 
 For God doth know, so shall the world perceive. 
 That I have turn'd away my former self; 
 So will I those that kept me company. 60 
 
 When thou dost hear I am as I have been. 
 Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast, 
 The tutor and the feeder of my riots : 
 Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death, 
 As I have done the rest of my misleaders, 
 Not to come near our person by ten mile. 
 For competence of life I will allow you. 
 That lack of means enforce you not to evil : 
 And, as we hear you do reform yourselves, 69 
 
 We will, according to your strengths and qualities. 
 Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my 
 
 lord, 
 To see perform'd the tenour of our word. 
 Set on. [Exeunt King, etc, 
 
 FaL Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound. 
 
 132
 
 KING HENRY IV. Act V. Sc. v. 
 
 ShaL Yea, 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 advancements ; I will be So 
 the man yet that shall make you great. 
 
 SJiaJ. 1 cannot well perceive how, unless you should 
 give me your doublet, and stuff me out with 
 straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me 
 have five hundred of my thousand. 
 
 Fal. Sir, I will be as good as my word : this that 
 you heard was but a colour. 
 
 ShaL A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John. 
 
 Fal. Fear no colours : go with me to dinner : come. 
 
 Lieutenant Pistol ; come, Bardolph : I shall be 9c 
 sent for soon at night. 
 
 Re-enter Prince John, and the Lord Chief Justice; 
 Officers zvith them. 
 
 Ch. Just. Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet : 
 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. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero contenta. 
 
 [Exeunt all hut Prince John and the Chief Justice. 
 
 Lan. I like this fair proceeding of the king's : 
 He hath intent his wonted followers 
 Shall all be very well provided for ; 100 
 
 But all are banish'd till their conversations 
 Appear more wise and modest to the world. 
 
 133
 
 Epilogue THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Ch. Just. And so they are. 
 
 Lan. The king hath call'd his parUament, my lord. 
 
 Ch. Just. He hath. 
 
 Lan. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire, 
 We bear our civil swords and native fire 
 As far as France : I heard a bird so sing. 
 Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king. 
 Come, will you hence ? [Exeunt, no 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Spoken by a Dancer. 
 
 First my fear ; then my courtesy ; last my 
 speech. My fear is, your displeasure ; my cour- 
 tesy, my duty ; and my speech, to beg your par- 
 dons. 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 lo 
 for it and to promise you a better. I meant 
 indeed to pay you with this ; which, if like an 
 ill venture it come unluckily home, I break, and 
 you, my gentle creditors, lose. Here I promised 
 you I would be, and here I commit my body to 
 your mercies : bate me some, and I will pay you 
 some, and, as most debtors do, promise you in- 
 finitely. 
 
 If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, 
 
 134
 
 KING HENRY IV. Epilogue 
 
 will you command me to use my legs? and yet 20 
 that were but light payment, to dance out of 
 your debt. But a good conscience will make 
 any possible satisfaction, and so would I. All 
 the gentlewomen here have forgiven me : if the 
 gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not 
 agree with the gentlewomen, which was never 
 seen before in such an assembly. 
 
 One word more, I beseech you. If you be 
 not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble 
 author will continue the story, with Sir John in 3c 
 it, and make you merry with fair Katharine of 
 France; where, for any thing I know, Falstaff 
 shall die of a sweat, unless already a' be killed 
 with your hard opinions ; for Oldcastle died a 
 martyr, and this is not the man. Aly 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. 
 
 135
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glossary. 
 
 A', he (Quartos, "a"; Folios, 
 " hee " or " he ") ', I. ii. 48. 
 
 Abated, " reduced to lower 
 temper, or as the workmen 
 call it, let down" (Johnson) ; 
 I. i. 117. 
 
 Abide, undergo, meet the for- 
 tunes of ; II. iii. 36. 
 
 Able, active; I. i. 43. 
 
 Abroach; " set a.," cause, ? set 
 flowing; IV. ii. 14. 
 
 Accite, summon; V. ii. 141. 
 
 Accites, incites (Folios 3, 4, 
 "excites") ; II. ii. 64. 
 
 Accommodated, supplied (sat- 
 irized as an affected word) ; 
 (Quarto, '' accommodate ") ; 
 III. ii. 71. 
 
 Achitophcl, Ahithopel, the 
 counsellor of Absalom, 
 cursed by David (Folio 2, 
 " Architophel") ; I. ii. 39- 
 
 Aconitiim, aconite; IV. iv. 48. 
 
 Address'd, prepared; IV. iv. 5. 
 
 Advised, well aware; I. i. 172. 
 
 Affect, love ; IV. v. 145. 
 
 Affections, inclinations; IV. iv. 
 
 After, according to; V. ii. 129. 
 
 Against, before, in anticipation 
 of;IV. ii. 81. 
 
 Agate, a figure cut in an agate 
 stone and worn in a ring or 
 as a seal; a symbol of small- 
 ress (Johnson's emendation 
 of Folios, " agot") ; I. ii. 19. 
 
 Aggravate, Mrs. Q.'s blunder 
 for moderate; II. iv. 170. 
 
 All, quite; IV. i. 156. 
 
 Allow, approve ; IV. ii. 54. 
 
 Amurath, the name of the 
 Turkish Sultans ; Amurath 
 III. died in 1596, leaving a 
 son Amurath, who, on com- 
 ing to the throne, invited his 
 brothers to a feast, where he 
 had them all strangled, in or- 
 der to prevent any incon- 
 venient disputes concerning 
 the succession. T hi s is 
 probably the circumstance 
 which is here referred to (the 
 allusion helps to fix the date 
 of the play) ; V. ii. 48. 
 
 An, if (Quarto, " and" ; Folios, 
 "if') ; I. fi. 59. 
 
 Anatomize, lay open, show dis- 
 tinctly (Folio 4, "anato- 
 mize"; Quarto, " anotho- 
 mize"; Folios i, 2, 3, " Ana- 
 thomize") ; Induct. 21. 
 
 Ancient, ensign; II. iv. 72. 
 
 Angel, with play upon angel, 
 the gold coin, of the value of 
 ten shillings; I. ii. 177. 
 
 Anon, anon, Sir, the customary 
 reply of the Drawers; II. iv. 
 296. 
 
 Antiquity, old age; I. ii. 299. 
 
 Appertinent, belonging; I. ii. 
 184. 
 
 130
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Apple-Johns, a particular kind 
 of apple, which shrivelled by 
 keeping; II. iv. 2. 
 
 Apprehensive, imaginative ; IV. 
 iii. 103. 
 
 Approve, prove; I. ii. 205. 
 
 Apter, more ready; I. i. 69. 
 
 Argument, subject; V. ii. 23. 
 
 Armed, with spurs (Quarto, 
 " armed " ; Folios, " able " ; 
 Pope, "agile") ; I. i. 44. 
 
 Assemhlance, aggfegate, tout 
 ensemble (Pope, "sem- 
 blance"; Capell, "assem- 
 blage") ; III. ii. 272. 
 
 Assurance, surety; I. ii. 36. 
 
 At a word, in a word, briefly; 
 III. ii. 313. 
 
 Atomy, Mrs. Q.'s blunder for 
 "anatomy," skeleton (Folios 
 "Anatomy") ; V. iv. 33. 
 
 Atonement, reconciliation; IV. 
 i. 221. 
 
 Attach, arrest; IV. ii. 109. 
 
 Attached, seized; II. ii. 3. 
 
 Attend, await, waits for; I. i. 3. 
 
 Azi'ay zvitJi; "could a. w. me," 
 i.e. could endure me ; III. ii. 
 
 Awful, inspiring awe ; V. ii. 86. 
 
 Aivfnl banks, bounds of re- 
 spect, reverence (Warburton, 
 "lawful") ; IV. i. 176. 
 
 Back-szvord man, fencer at 
 single sticks ; III. ii. 69. 
 
 Balm, consecrated oil used for 
 anointing kings; IV. v. 115. 
 
 Band, bond (Folios, "bond") ; 
 
 I. ii. 2>7- 
 
 Barbary hen, a ben whose 
 feathers are naturally ruffled ; 
 
 II. iv. 104. 
 
 Barson, corruption of Barston, 
 in Warwickshire ; V. iii. 90. 
 
 Bartholomew boar- pig, roast 
 pig was one of the attrac- 
 tions of Bartholomew Fair ; 
 II. iv. 241. 
 
 Basingstoke, in Hampshire, 
 about fifty miles from Lon- 
 don (Quarto, "Billings- 
 gate ") ; II. i. 177. 
 
 Basket hilt, the hilt of a sword 
 with a covering of narrow 
 plates of steel in the shape 
 of a basket, and serving as 
 a protection to the hand ; II. 
 iv. 136. 
 
 Bastardly, ? dastardly; II. i. 
 
 51- 
 
 Bate, contention ; II. iv. 263. 
 
 Bate, remit ; Epil. 16. 
 
 Battle, army; IV. i. 154. 
 
 Battle, battalion; III. ii. 163. 
 
 Bazvl out, bawl out from 
 (Quarto, " bal out"; Capell, 
 'bawl out from"); II. ii. 
 
 27; 
 
 Baying, driving to bay (a term 
 of the chase) ; I. iii. 80. 
 
 Bear-herd, leader of a tame 
 bear (Folio 4, "bear-herd" ; 
 Quarto, "Berod"; Folios i, 
 2, " Beare-heard " ; Folio 3. 
 "Bear-heard") ; I. ii. 182. 
 
 Bear in hand, flatter with false 
 hopes, keep in expectation ; 
 I. ii. 40. 
 
 Beavers, movable fronts of hel- 
 mets ; IV. i. 120. 
 
 Beefs, oxen (?) cattle (Fo- 
 lios, " beeves ") ; III. ii. 347. 
 
 Before, . go before me ; IV. i. 
 228. 
 
 137
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Being you are, since yoU are 
 (Gould conjectured "see- 
 ing") ; 11. i. 193. 
 
 Belike, I suppose; II. ii. 11. 
 
 Beseek, beseech; II. iv. 170. 
 
 Besonian, base fellow, beggar ; 
 V. iii. 113. 
 
 Bestow, behave ; II. ii. 177. 
 
 Bestowed, spent ; V. v. 12. 
 
 Big, pregnant; Induct. 13. 
 
 Biggen, " nightcap " ; properly, 
 a coarse headband or cap 
 worn by the Beguines, an 
 order of Flemish nuns ; IV. 
 V. 27. 
 
 Bleed, be bled ; IV. i. 57. 
 
 Bloody, headstrong, intemper- 
 ate ; IV. i. 34. 
 
 Blubbered, blubbering, weep- 
 ing; II. iv. 411. 
 
 Blue-bottle rogue; alluding to 
 the blue uniform of the 
 beadles ; V. iv. 22. 
 
 Blunt, dull-witted; Induct. 18. 
 
 Bona - robas, handsome 
 wenches; III. ii. 25. 
 
 Borne with, laden with; II. iv. 
 
 383. 
 
 Bounce, bang ; III. ii. 299. 
 
 Brave, defy ; II. iv. 224. 
 
 Brawn, mass of flesh ; I. i. 19. 
 
 Break, am bankrupt; Epil. 13. 
 
 Breathe, let take breath, rest ; 
 I. i. 38. 
 
 Bruited, noised, rumoured 
 abroad ; I. i. 114. 
 
 Buckle, bow, bend (Bailey con- 
 jectured "knuckle"); I. i. 
 141. 
 
 Bung, sharper ; II. iv. 133. 
 
 Burst, broke, cracked ; III. ii. 
 341. 
 
 Busses, kisses ; II. iv. 282. 
 
 But, except ; V. iii. 89. 
 
 By, on, consequent upon; IV. 
 
 V. 87. 
 By God's liggens, an oath, 
 
 probably of the same force 
 
 as " bodikins " (omitted in 
 
 Folios) ; V. iii. 65. 
 By the rood, by the holy cross, 
 
 an asseveration ; III. ii. 3. 
 By yea and nay, without doubt ; 
 
 III. ii. 10. 
 
 Caliver, a very light musket ; 
 
 III. ii. 287. 
 
 Calm, qualm ; II. iv. 38. 
 
 Came, became ; II. iii. 57. 
 
 Canaries, canary wine (Folio 4, 
 " Canary ") ; II. iv. 28. 
 
 Candle-mine, magazine of tal- 
 low ; II. iv. 316. 
 
 Canker'd, polluted ; IV. v. 72. 
 
 Cankers, canker-worms ; II. ii. 
 102. 
 
 Cannibals, Hannibals ; II. iv. 
 
 175- 
 
 Capable, susceptible ; I. i. 172. 
 
 Carat, quality (Folios i, 2, 3, 
 " Charract " ; Folio 4. " Cav- 
 ract"; Quarto, "Karrat"); 
 
 IV. V. 162. 
 
 Caraways, a kind of confection 
 made with cumin seeds, 
 " caraway seeds " ; V. iii. 3. 
 
 Care, mind ; I. ii. 134. 
 
 Cast, calculated ; I. i. 166. 
 
 Cavaleros, cavaliers (Quarto, 
 " cabileros"', Folios, " Caui- 
 leroes") ; V. iii. 59. 
 
 Censer; " thin man in a cen- 
 ser " ; probably a kind of cap 
 like a censer; (some explain 
 
 138
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 that censers were made of 
 thin metal, and often had 
 rudely hammered or em- 
 bossed figures in the middle 
 of the pierced convex lid) ; 
 V. iv. 20. 
 
 Chance ; " how c," how comes 
 it ; IV. iv. 20. 
 
 Channel, gutter (Pope, "ken- 
 nel"); II. i. 48. 
 
 Chapt, worn, wrinkled (Quarto, 
 Folios, " chopt") ; III. ii. 289. 
 
 Charge ; " in c," i.e. " ready for 
 the charge " ; IV. i. 120. 
 
 Charge, pledge ; II. iv. 126. 
 
 Cheater; " a tame ch.," a low 
 gamester ; a cant term 
 (Quarto, " cheter" ; some 
 eds., " chetah," a leopard) ; 
 II. iv. 102. 
 
 Cheater, escheator. an officer of 
 the exchequer; II. iv. 107. 
 
 Check, reproof; IV. iii. 32. 
 
 Checked, reproved; I. ii. 212. 
 
 Churlish, rude, rough ; I. iii. 62. 
 
 Civil, well-ordered ; IV. i. 42. 
 
 Clapped i' the clout, hit the 
 white mark in the target 
 without effort ; III. ii. 50. 
 
 Close, make peace; II. iv. 344. 
 
 ' Cock and pie,' a slight oath 
 commonly used; cock, a cor- 
 
 From an old alehouse sign at Bewdley. 
 
 ruption of God ; pie (= Latin 
 pica) was the old name of 
 the Ordinate ; V. i. i. 
 
 Coherence, agreement, accord ; 
 V. i. 69. 
 
 Cold, calm ; V. ii. 98. 
 
 Coldest, most hopeless ; Y. ii. 
 
 31- 
 Colour, pretence ; V. v. 87. 
 Colours ; " fear no colours," 
 
 fear no enemy, fear nothing ; 
 
 V. V. 89. 
 Colour, excuse ; I. ii. 257. 
 Commandment, command; V. 
 
 iii. 137. 
 Commit, commit to prison ; V. 
 
 ii. 83. 
 Commodity, profit; I. ii. 269. 
 Commotion, insurrection; IV. i. 
 
 36. 
 Companion, fellow, used con- 
 temptuously; II. iv. 128. 
 Complices, accomplices, allies ; 
 
 I. i. 163. 
 Condition, " official capacity " ; 
 
 IV. iii. 86. 
 Coniirmities, Mrs. Q.'s blunder 
 
 for infirmities; II. iv. 61. 
 Confound, exhaust ; IV. iv. 41. 
 Conger, sea-eel (Quarto, " Cun- 
 
 ger"); II. iv. 56. 
 Consent, agreement ; V. i. 75. 
 Consent, agree, decide (Collier 
 
 MS., "Consult") ; I. iii. 52. 
 Considerance, consideration ; V. 
 
 ii. 98. 
 Consigning to, confirming; V. 
 
 ii. 143- 
 Consist upon, claim, stand upon 
 
 (Rowe, "insist") ; IV. i. 187. 
 Contagious, pernicious; V. v. 
 
 34- 
 
 139
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Continuantly, Mrs. Quickly's 
 blunder for continually 
 (Quartos,, '' continually ") ; 
 11. i. 26. 
 
 Conversations, habits; V. v. 
 
 lOI. 
 
 Cophetua; alluding to the bal- 
 lad of King Cophetua and the 
 Beggar to be found in 
 Percy's Reliques (Quarto, 
 " Couetua " ; Folios, " Coui- 
 tha") ; V. iii. 102. 
 
 Corporate, Bullcalfs blunder 
 for corporal; III. ii. 231. 
 
 Corpse, corpses (Folios i, 2, 
 "Corpes"; Folios 3, 4. 
 " Corps " ; Dyce, " corpse ") ; 
 I. i. 192. 
 
 Correctioner, one who inflicts 
 punishment ; V. iv. 23. 
 
 Cost; " part-created cost," 
 partly erected costly build- 
 ing; (Vaughan conjectured 
 " part-erected castle " ; Herr 
 conjectured "part-erected, 
 cast" \ Keightley, "house") \ 
 I. iii. 60. 
 
 Costermonger, commercial, 
 
 petty dealing; (Quarto, " cos- 
 tar-mongers times " ; Folios 
 I, 2, " Costor-mongers " ; Fo- 
 lios 3, 4, " coster-mongers 
 days") ; I. ii. 181. 
 
 Cotswold man, a man from the 
 Cotswold Downs, celebrated 
 for athletic games and rural 
 sports of all kinds, hence an 
 athlete (Quartos, " Cotsole 
 man " ; Folios, " Cot-sal- 
 man " ; Capell, " Cot sail 
 man") ; III. ii. 22. 
 
 Courtesy, curtsy (Folio i, 
 " Curtsie " ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 "Curtesie " ; Quarto, " cur- 
 sie ") ; Epil. i. 
 
 Cover, lay the table; II. iv. 11. 
 
 Crack, " a pert little boy " ; III. 
 
 Crafty-sick, feigning sickness; 
 
 Induct. 2)7- 
 Crosses, coins stamped with a 
 
 cross (used quibblingly) ; I. 
 
 ii. 244. 
 Crudy, crude, raw; IV. iii. 102. 
 Current, genuine, with pun 
 
 upon sterling ; II. i. 128. 
 Curry with, curry favour with ; 
 
 V. i. 79. 
 
 Cuttle, knife used by cut- 
 purses, hence, cutpurse ; II. 
 iv. 135. 
 
 Day, day of battle, battle; I. i. 
 20. 
 
 Dear, earnest; IV. v. 141. 
 
 Debate, contest ; IV. iv. 2. 
 
 Defensible, furnishing the 
 means of defence (Folio 4, 
 " sensible ") ; II. iii. 38. 
 
 Depart, leave ; IV. v. 91. 
 
 Derives itself, descends ; IV. v. 
 43- 
 
 Descension, descent, decline 
 (Folios, "declension") ', II. 
 ii. 182. 
 
 Determined, put an end to, set- 
 tled : IV. V. 82. 
 
 'Devil's book,' "alluding to the 
 old belief that the Devil had 
 a register of the persons who 
 were subject to him " ; II. ii. 
 49. {Cp. illustration in Tam- 
 ing of Shrew.) 
 
 140
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Directly, in a direct manner, 
 
 plainly; IV. ii. 52. 
 Discharge, disband, dismiss; 
 
 IV. ii. 61. 
 Discolours; " d. the complexion 
 
 of my greatness " = makes 
 
 me blush; XL ii. 5. 
 Discomfort, uneasiness (Capell 
 
 conjectured "discomfit") ; I. 
 
 ii. 112. 
 Discoverers, scouts (Folios 3, 
 
 4, "discoveries") ; IV. i. 3. 
 Distemper' d, disordered, out of 
 
 health; III. i. 41. 
 Distracted, made mad ; II. i. 
 
 112. 
 Dole, dealing, interchange ; I. i. 
 
 169. 
 Doubt, fear, suspect ; Epil. 7. 
 Draw, draw together, muster ; 
 
 I. iii. 109; withdraw; II. i. 
 
 157. 
 Drew, drew aside ; I. i. 72. 
 Drollery, (probably) a humor- 
 ous painting; II. i. 151. 
 Drooping, declining; Induct, 3. 
 Dub me knight, referring to the 
 
 custom of the time, that he 
 
 who drank a large potation 
 
 on his knees to the health of 
 
 his mistress, was said to be 
 
 dubbed a knight, and retained 
 
 the title for the evening; V, 
 
 iii. 74- 
 Duer, more duly (Quarto, 
 
 " dewer " ; Pope, " move 
 
 duly"); III. ii. 324. 
 Dull, soothing, drowsy ; IV. v. 2. 
 
 Easy, easy to be borne; V. ii. 
 
 71. 
 Ebon, black, dark; V. v. 37. 
 
 Effect, suitable manner; II. i. 
 
 Element, sky ; IV. iii. 55. 
 Endear' d, bound (Quarto, " en- 
 
 deere ") ; II. iii. 11. 
 Ending, dying; IV. v. 80. 
 Enforcement, application of 
 
 force ; I. i. 120. 
 Engaged, bound, tied ; I. i. 180. 
 Engraffed to, firmly attached 
 
 to; II. ii. 67. 
 Engrossed, piled up, ama'ssed; 
 
 IV. V. 71. 
 Engrossments, accumulations ; 
 
 IV. V. 80. 
 Enlarge, extend, widen ; I. i. 
 
 204. 
 Ephesians, jolly companions (a 
 
 cant term of the day) ; II. ii. 
 
 157. 
 
 Equal with, cope with ; I. iii. 
 67. 
 
 Ever among, perhaps a corrup- 
 tion of ever and anon ; V. iii. 
 22. 
 
 Exclamation, outcry against 
 you ; II. i. 84. 
 
 Exion, Mrs. Q.'s blunder for 
 action (Folios 3, 4, "ac- 
 tion ") ; II. i. 30. 
 
 Extraordinarily, Mrs. Q.'s 
 blunder for ordinarily ; II. iv. 
 25. 
 
 Face-royal, used equivocally for 
 (i.) a royal face, and (ii.) 
 the figure stamped upon " a 
 royal," a coin of the value 
 of ten shillings; I. ii, 26 . 
 
 Faitors, evil-doers (Quarto, 
 "fater"; Folios, "Fates"); 
 II. iv. 167. 
 
 141
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Familiarity, Mrs. Q.'s blunder 
 for familiar (Folios, "fa- 
 miliar") ; II. i. 104. 
 
 Fancies and good-nights, the 
 common title of little poems ; 
 III. ii. 336. 
 
 Fantasy, imagination; V. ii. 13. 
 
 Fear, frighten; IV. iv. 121. 
 
 Fear, a fearful thing; I. i. 95. 
 
 Fearful, full of fear; Induct. 
 12. 
 
 Fears, causes of fear ; IV. v. 
 196. 
 
 Fennel, an inflammatory herb; 
 II. iv. 258. 
 
 Fetch off, make a prey of, 
 fleece; III. ii. 318. 
 
 Few; " in f.," in a few words, 
 in short ; I. i. 112. 
 
 Fig, insult by putting the 
 thumb between the fore and 
 middle finger; V. iii. 118. 
 (Cp. illustration in Henry 
 V.) 
 
 Fillip, strike ; I. ii. 246. 
 
 Flap-dragon, snap-dragon ; II. 
 V. 267. 
 
 Fleet, the prison for debtors ; 
 V. V. 92. 
 
 Flesh'd, " made fierce and eager 
 for combat, as a dog fed with 
 flesh only" (Capell conjec- 
 tured " ilush'd") ; I. i. 149. 
 
 Foin, make a thrust in fencing; 
 II. i. 16. 
 
 Follow'd, followed up the ad- 
 vantage gained ; I. i. 21. 
 
 Fond, foolish ; I. iii. 91. 
 
 Fondly, foolishly; IV. ii. 119. 
 
 Foolish-compounded, composed 
 of absurdity; I. ii. 8. 
 
 For, in spite of; I. i. 93. 
 
 Force perforce, an emphatic 
 form of perforce; (Theo- 
 bald's emendation of Folios, 
 " forc'd, perforce"); IV. i. 
 116. 
 
 Forehand shaft; " an arrow 
 particularly formed for 
 shooting straight forward, 
 concerning which Ascham 
 says it should be big 
 breasted" (Nares) ; (Col- 
 lier MS., "fourehand");lll. 
 
 ii. 51. 
 
 Forgetive, inventive ; IV. iii. 
 103. 
 
 Forspent, utterly worn out {for 
 intensive) ; I. i. 2)7- 
 
 Fortune ; " in the f.," by the 
 good fortune; I. i. 15. 
 
 Fourteen and a half, i.e. two 
 hundred and ninety yards ; 
 the maximum distance 
 reached by the archers of the 
 time being three hundred 
 yards; III. ii. 52. 
 
 Foiitre, an expression of con- 
 tempt; (Quarto, " fowtre" ; 
 Folios, " footra") ; V. iii. 99. 
 
 Frank, sty; II. ii. 154. 
 
 Fright, affright, terrify; I. i. 67. 
 
 Fubbed off, deluded with false 
 promises ; II. i. 34. 
 
 Fustian, nonsensic^al ; II. iv. 
 198. 
 
 Fustilarian, a word of Fal- 
 staff's coinage (? connected 
 with " fusty," or perhaps 
 from " fustis," with refer- 
 ence to the cudgel of the 
 bailiff) ; II. i. 61. 
 
 Gainsaid, contradicted: I. i. 91. 
 
 142
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Galled, injured, annoyed; IV. 
 i. 89. 
 
 Gallozvay nags, a small and in- 
 ferior breed of horses ; com- 
 mon hackneys; II. iv. 199. 
 
 'Gan, began ; I. i. 129. 
 
 Garland, crown; V. ii. 84. 
 
 Gaultree, the ancient forest of 
 Galtres, to the north of the 
 City of York (Folios, " Giial- 
 tree"); IV. i. 2. 
 
 Gave out, described ; IV. i. 23. 
 
 G e r m a n hunting; " hunting 
 subjects were much in favour 
 for the decoration of in- 
 teriors, and the chase of the 
 wnld boar in Germany would 
 naturally form a spirited 
 scene" (Clarke); Quarto, 
 " larman" ; Folios i, 2, 3, 
 "Germane") ; II. i. 152. 
 
 Gibbets on, hangs on; alluding 
 to the manner of carrying 
 beer-barrels, by hanging" 
 them on a sling; III. ii. 277. 
 
 Giddy, excitable, hot-brained ; 
 IV. V. 214. 
 
 Gird, jeer, gibe; I. ii. 7. 
 
 God's light, by God's light; an 
 oath; (Folios, "what") ; II. 
 iv. 138. 
 
 Good case, good circumstances; 
 
 II. i. III. 
 Good faith, indeed (Folios, 
 
 "good-sooth"); II. iv. 38. 
 Gracing, grafting; V. iii. 3. 
 Grate on, vex, be offensive ; IV. 
 
 i. 90. 
 Green, fresh ; IV. v. 204. 
 Grief, (i) pain; (2) sorrow; 
 
 I. i. 144. 
 Groat, a coin of the value of 
 
 four-pence ; I. ii. 254. 
 Grows to, incorporates wnth ; I. 
 
 ii. 59. 
 Guarded zvith rags, trimmed, 
 
 ornamented with rags (Pope, 
 
 " goaded " ; Singer, " rags " ; 
 
 Quartos and Folios, 
 
 "rage") ; IV. i. 34. 
 
 Haled, dragged (Quarto, 
 "halde"; Folios i. 2, 3, 
 "Hall'd"; Folio 4. " Hal'd"; 
 Pope. "Haiild"); V. v. 35. 
 
 Half-kirtles, jackets, or the pet- 
 ticoats attached to them; V. 
 iv. 24. 
 
 Halloing, shouting (Quarto, 
 Folios I, 2, "hallowing"; 
 Folios 3, 4, "hollowing") ; 
 I. ii. 204. 
 
 A gold ten shilling piece of Henry VIII. From an original specimen. 
 143
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Hands; " of my h.," of my size ; 
 
 11. ii. 72. 
 Hangs, suspends ; IV. i. 213, 
 Haply, mayhap, perhaps ; I. 1. 
 
 Harry ten shillings; " four H. 
 t. s. in French crowns " ; 
 there were no ten-shilHng 
 pieces till the reign of Henry 
 VII. ; French crowns were 
 worth somewhat less than 
 five shillings each; III. ii. 232. 
 (Cp. illustration.) 
 
 Haunch, hinder (i.e. latter) 
 
 - part ; IV. iv. 92. 
 
 Hautboy, a wind-instrument 
 (Quarto, "hohoy"; Folios, 
 "Hoe-hoy") III. ii. 345. 
 
 Have at Jiim, I am read}'^ ; I. ii. 
 209. 
 
 Head; " make head," raise an 
 army; I. i. 168. 
 
 Headland, a strip of un- 
 ploughed land at the end of 
 the furrows; V. i. 14. 
 
 Heart, will, intention ; V. iii. 
 29. 
 
 Heat, pursuit ; IV. iii. 25. 
 
 Hence, henceforth ; V. v. 53. 
 
 Hilding, base, menial (Folios, 
 " hielding ") \ I. i. 57. 
 
 Hinckley, a market town in 
 Leicestershire (Quarto, 
 " Hunkly ") ; V. i. 26. 
 
 His, its (Folio 4, "its") ; I. ii. 
 125. 
 
 History, relate ; IV. i. 203. 
 
 Hold, fastness, fortress (Theo- 
 bald's correction of Quarto 
 and Folios, '' Hole ") ; In- 
 duct. 35. 
 
 Hold sortance, be in accord- 
 ance; IV. i, II. 
 
 Holland, a kind of linen ; with 
 a quibble upon Holland ; II. 
 ii. 26. 
 
 Honey-seed, Mrs. Q.'s blunder 
 for homicide; II. i. 54. 
 
 Honey-suckle, Mrs. Q.'s blun- 
 der for homicidal ; II. i. 52. 
 
 Hook on, don't lose sight of 
 her; keep close to her; II. i. 
 170. 
 
 How, what price; III. ii. 41. 
 
 Humane, human (omitted in 
 Folios) ; IV. iii. 129. 
 
 Humorous, capricious ; IV. iv. 
 
 34. 
 Humours of blood, caprices of 
 
 disposition; II. iii. 30. 
 Hunt counter, are on the wrong 
 
 scent ; I. ii. 97. 
 Hurly, hurly-burly, tumult ; 
 
 III. i. 25. 
 Husband, husbandman (Folios 
 
 3, 4, "husbandman")', V. iii. 
 
 II. 
 
 Imbrue, draw blood; II. iv. 204. 
 
 Immediate, next in line ; IV. v. 
 42. 
 
 Imp, youngling ; V. v. 43. 
 
 In, with ; I. iii. 7. 
 
 Incertain, uncertain (Folios i, 
 2, " incertain " ; Folios 3, 4, 
 "uncertain") ; I. iii. 24. 
 
 Incision, draw blood ; II. iv. 
 204. 
 
 Indifferency, moderate dimen- 
 sions ; IV. iii. 22. 
 
 Indited, Mrs. Q.'s blunder for 
 invited; (Folios 3, 4, "in- 
 vited") ; II. i. 28. 
 
 144
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Infer, suggest; V. v. 14. 
 Iniinitive, Mrs. Quickly's blun- 
 der for infinite ; II. i. 26. 
 Inset, set (Folios, " set") ; I. ii. 
 
 19. 
 
 Insinewed, allied; IV. i. 172. 
 
 Instance, proof; III. i. 103. 
 
 Intelligencer, mediator; IV. ii. 
 20. 
 
 Intended, understood; IV. i. 
 166. 
 
 Intervallums, intervals; V. i. 
 91. 
 
 Intreasured, stored; III. i. 85. 
 
 Invested, invested with author- 
 ity; IV. iv. 6. 
 
 Investments, vestments; IV. i. 
 
 Iron man, armed man, clad m 
 armour (Quarto, "man talk- 
 ing") ; IV. ii. 8. 
 
 7^ = its; (Quarto and Folios i, 
 2, "it"; Folios 3, 4- "its") ; 
 I. ii. 123. 
 
 It is, he is; used contemptu- 
 ously; II. iv. 75. 
 
 Jade, a term of pity for a mal- 
 treated horse ; I. i. 45- 
 
 Joined-stools, a kind of folding 
 chairs ; II. iv. 260. 
 
 Juggler, trickster, cheat ; II. iv. 
 
 137- 
 Juvenal, youth ; I. ii. 22. 
 
 Kccch, "the fat of an ox or 
 cow, rolled up by the butcher 
 in a round lump ; hence a 
 name given to a butcher's 
 wife " ; II. i. 97- 
 
 Kickshaws, trifles; V. i. 28. 
 
 Kindly, natural; IV. v. 84. 
 
 Kir tie, a jacket with a petticoat 
 attached to it ; II. iv. 288. 
 
 'Larum-bcll, alarm bell ; III. i. 
 
 17- 
 Law, justice; V. ii. 87. 
 Lay, stayed, resided; III. ii. 
 
 294. 
 Leather-coats, a kind of apple, 
 
 brown-russets; V. iii. 44- 
 Leer, simper, smile ; V. v. 6. 
 Leman, sweetheart, lover; V. 
 
 iii. 47. 
 Lethe, the river in the infernal 
 
 regions whose waters caused 
 
 forgetfulness (Quarto, " le- 
 
 thy"); V. ii. 72. 
 Lie, lodge; IV. ii. 97- 
 Lief, willingly (Quarto, 
 
 "Hue") ; I. ii. 46- 
 Lighten, enlighten; II. i. 203. 
 Like, (?) look (Folios, 
 
 "look") ; III. ii. 91- 
 Like, likely; I. iii. 81. 
 Liking, likening (Folios, "lik'n- 
 
 ing him ") ; II. i. 93- 
 Lined, strengthened ; I. iii. 27. _ 
 Listen after, enquire for; I. i. 
 
 29. 
 
 Livers, formerly considered the 
 
 seat of the passions; I. ii. 
 
 188. 
 
 Loathly, loathsome; IV. iv. 122. 
 
 Look beyond, misjudge; IV. iv. 
 
 67. 
 Looked, anticipated, expected; 
 
 I. ii. 48. 
 Lubber' s-head, Libbard's-head, 
 i.e. Leopard's head, the sign 
 of a house (Folios, " Lub- 
 bars") ; II. i. 3i- 
 
 145
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Lumbert street, Lombard- 
 Street ; in early times fre- 
 quented by the Lombardy 
 merchants (FoHos, "Lom- 
 bard") : II. i. 29. 
 
 Lusty, lively, merry; III. ii. 17. 
 
 Malmsey-nose, red-nosed; II. 
 i. 40. 
 
 Malt-worms, ale-topers; II. iv. 
 351. 
 
 Manage, handle; III. ii. 287. 
 
 Mandrake, " the plant Aropa 
 Mandragora, the root of 
 which was thought to resem- 
 ble the human figure, and to 
 cause madness and even 
 death, when torn from the 
 ground " ; I. ii. 16. 
 
 The above illustration (from an illu- 
 minated MS. in the British Museum) 
 shows the method by which the man- 
 drake was supposed to be obtained. 
 
 Man-queller, manslayer, mur- 
 derer; II. i. 54. 
 
 Many, multitude (Douce con- 
 jectured "meyny")', I. iii. 
 91. 
 
 Mare, nightmare ; II. i. 79. 
 
 Marks ; a mark is of the value 
 of thirteen shillings and four- 
 pence; I. ii. 208. 
 
 Marry, a corruption of Mary ; 
 a mild form of oath (Quarto, 
 "Mary"; Folios, "Why"); 
 II. ii. 42. 
 
 Martlemas, Martinmas, the 
 Feast of St. Martin, which 
 marked the close of autumn ; 
 used figuratively = an old 
 man ; II. ii. 107. 
 
 Matter; " no such m.," it is 
 nothing of the kind; Induct. 
 15- 
 
 Mechanical, vulgar, occupied in 
 low drudgery; V. v. 36. 
 
 Medicine potable, alluding to 
 the auriim potabile of the al- 
 chemists ; IV. V. 163. 
 
 Melting, softening, pitying 
 (Quarto, "meeting"); IV. 
 iv. 32. 
 
 Mess, " common term for a 
 small portion of anything be- 
 longing to the kitchen " ; II. 
 i. 99. 
 
 Met, obtained ; IV. v. 186. 
 
 Metal, ardour, high courage 
 (used in both senses, 
 "metal" and "mettle"); 
 (Folio 4, "metal"; Quarto, 
 " mettal" ; Folios, i, 2, 3, 
 "Mettle"); I. i. 116. 
 
 Mete, judge of; IV. iv. 77. 
 
 Mile-end Green, the usual 
 ground for military drill, and 
 also for public sports ; III. 
 ii. 293. 
 
 Misdoubts, apprehensions; IV. 
 i. 206. 
 
 Miscarried, perished; IV. i. 129. 
 
 Misorder'd, disordered ; IV. ii. 
 33- 
 
 146
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Mistook, mistaken, misunder- 
 stood; IV. ii. 56. 
 
 Mode, form of things (Quarto 
 and Folios, " mood ") ; IV. v. 
 200. 
 
 Model, plans ; I. iii. 42. 
 
 More and less, high and low ; I. 
 i. 209. 
 
 Much! an exclamation of ironi- 
 cal admiration ; II. iv. 139. 
 
 Much ill, very ill ; IV. iv. iii. 
 
 Muse, wonder, am surprised ; 
 IV. i. 167. 
 
 Neaf, fist; II. iv, 195. 
 
 Near, in the confidence ; V. i. 
 78. 
 
 Neighbour confines, neighbour- 
 ing boundaries ; IV. v. 124. 
 
 New-dated, recently dated ; IV. 
 i. 8. 
 
 Nice, over-delicate, dainty. I. i. 
 145; trivial, petty, IV. i. 191. 
 
 " Nine Worthies " ; these were 
 commonly enumerated as fol- 
 lows : — Hector, Alexander, 
 and Julius Caesar ; Joshua, 
 David, and Judas Macca- 
 beus ; Arthur, Charlemagne, 
 and Godfrey of Bouillon ; II. 
 iv. 230. (Cp. Love's Labour 's 
 Lost.) 
 
 Nobles, a gold coin worth six 
 shillings and eightpence ; II. 
 i. 161. 
 
 Noise, company of musicians: 
 II. iv., 12. (The annexed il- 
 lustration, representing two 
 companies of noises, is taken 
 from Harrison's Arches of 
 Triumph, erected in honour \ 
 
 of the entry of James L into 
 London, 1603.) 
 
 No other, nothing else (Quar- 
 to, '' otherwise ") ; V. ii. 62. 
 
 Nut-hook, contemptuous term 
 for a catchpole ; V. iv. 8. 
 
 Obedience, obeisance; IV. v. 
 147. 
 
 Obserz>ancc,ohQ.\?>?ince, homage; 
 IV. iii. 16. 
 
 Observed, deferred to ; IV.iv.30. 
 
 O'er-posting, getting clear of; 
 I. ii. 162. 
 
 Offer, menace ; IV. i. 219. 
 
 Offices, domestic offices, apart- 
 ments (especially servants' 
 quarters) ; I. iii. 47. 
 
 Omit, neglect; IV. iv. 27. 
 
 On, of; I. iii. 102. 
 
 One, i.e. mark, score ; pro- 
 nounced "own" (Theobald 
 conjectured " Lone "=: loan ; 
 Collier MS., ''score''); II. i. 
 
 Opposite, adversary, opponent ; 
 I. iii. 55. 
 
 Orchard, garden; V. iii. i. 
 
 Ostentation, outward show; II. 
 ii. 54. 
 
 Ouches, ornaments; II. iv. 53. 
 
 Ousel, blackbird; (Quarto, 
 " woosel" : Folios, "Ous- 
 el"); III. ii. 9. 
 
 147
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Ot:f; "will not out," will not 
 fail you ; a sportsman's ex- 
 pression ; V. iii. 67. 
 
 Outhreatlied, out of breath, ex- 
 hausted ; I. i. 108. 
 
 Overlive, outlive; IV. i. 15. 
 
 Over-rode, caught him up, out- 
 rode ; I. i. 30. 
 
 O V e r s c u t c h e d, (?) over- 
 scotched or, overwhipped ; 
 (Quarto, " ouer-schiicJit " ; 
 Grant White, " v e r- 
 switched " ; " over-switched 
 house-wife " ^ (according to 
 Ray, a strumpet) ; III. ii. 
 
 335. 
 Overween, think arrogantly ; 
 IV. i. 149. 
 
 Pantler, the servant who had 
 charge of the pantry ; II. iv. 
 249. 
 
 Parcels, small parts, particu- 
 lars ; IV. ii. 36. 
 
 Parcel-gilt, part-gilt, generally 
 only the embossed portions ; 
 II. i. 90. 
 
 Part, depart ; IV. ii. 70. 
 
 Part, " characteristic action " ; 
 IV. V. 64. 
 
 Particular ; " his particular," its 
 details ; IV. iv. 90. 
 
 Passing, surprisingly, exceed- 
 ingly; IV. ii. 85. 
 
 'Pauls'; "The body of old St. 
 Paul's Church in London was 
 a constant place of resort for 
 business and amusement. Ad- 
 vertisements were fixed up 
 there, bargains made, ser- 
 vants hired, and politics dis- 
 cussed " (Nares) ; I. ii. 57. 
 
 Pawn'd, pledged; IV. ii. 112. 
 
 Peasant, rural, provincial (Col- 
 lier MS., "pleasant") ; In- 
 duct. 2>3- 
 
 Peascod-time, the time when 
 peas are in pod; II. iv. 403. 
 
 Persistency, persistency in evil, 
 II. ii. 50. 
 
 Peruse, survey, examine ; IV. 
 ii. 94. 
 
 Picking, petty ; IV. i. 198, 
 
 ' Pie-corner,' near G i 1 1 s p u r 
 Street; the Great Fire ended 
 at this corner; II. i. 26. 
 
 Please it, if it please ; I. 1. 5. 
 
 Point, a signal given by the 
 blast of a trumpet (Collier 
 MS., '' report " ; Singer, " a 
 bruit") ; IV. i. 52. 
 
 Point, a tagged lace, used to tie 
 parts of the dress ; I. i. 53. 
 
 Points, mark of commission; 
 perhaps the same as the 
 shoulder-knots worn by sol- 
 diers and livery servants; II. 
 iv. 138. 
 
 Ports, portals, IV. v. 24. 
 
 Posts, post-horses ; IV. iii. 38. 
 
 Pottle-pot, a tankard holding 
 two quarts ; II. ii. 83. 
 
 Power, armed force ; I. iii. 29. 
 
 Precepts, summonses ; V. i. 13. 
 
 Precisely, exactly ; IV. i. 205. 
 
 Pregnancy, ready wit ; I. ii. 182. 
 
 Present, immediate ; IV. iii. 76. 
 
 Presented, represented; V. ii. 
 79- 
 
 Prick, mark, put him on the 
 list; III. ii. 119. 
 
 Pricked down, marked; II. iv. 
 349- 
 
 148
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Proface ; " an Anglicized form 
 of the Italian pro vi faccia " ; 
 " much good may it do you "; 
 V. iii. 28. 
 
 Project, expectation ; I. iii. 29. 
 
 Proof ; " come to any proof," 
 show themselves worth any- 
 thing when it comes to the 
 test; IV. iii. 93. 
 
 Proper, handsome ; XL ii. 72. 
 
 Proper, appropriate ; I. iii. 32. 
 
 Proper, own ; V. ii. 109. 
 
 Proposal, suppose ; V. ii. 92. 
 
 Piilsidge, Mrs. Q.'s blunder for 
 pulse; II. iv. 24. 
 
 Punish by the heels, the techni- 
 cal term for committing to 
 prison; I. ii. 133. 
 
 Purchased; " used probably in 
 its legal sense, acquired by a 
 man's own act, as opposed to 
 an acquisition by descent " 
 (Malone) ; IV. v. 200. 
 
 Push, thrust ; II. ii. 40. 
 
 Quantities, small pieces ; V. i. 
 
 67. 
 
 Quean, contemptible w e n c h, 
 hussy; II. i. 48. 
 
 Queasiness, sickly feeling, nau- 
 sea; I. i. 196. 
 
 Question; "in q.," under judi- 
 cial trial ; I. ii. 66. 
 
 Quit, safe, free; III. ii. 251. 
 
 Quittance, requital, return of 
 blows; I. i. 108. 
 
 Quiver, nimble ; III. ii. 295. 
 
 Quoif, cap or hood ; " sickly 
 q.," cap which is the badge of 
 sickness ; I. i. 147. 
 
 Quoit, throw, pitch (Quarto, 
 " Quaite") ; II. iv. 200. 
 
 Ragged, rugged, rough. Induct. 
 
 35 ; beggarly, V. ii. 38. 
 Ragged'st, roughest (Theobald 
 
 conjectured " rugged' st") ; I. 
 
 i. 151- 
 
 Ralph (Quarto, " Rafe"; Fo- 
 lios I, 2, "Ralphe"); III. ii. 
 106. 
 
 Rampallian, an abusive epithet 
 {cp. " rapscallion ") ; II. i. 61. 
 
 Rapier, a small sword used in 
 thrusting; II. iv. 209. 
 
 Rascals; originally lean deer 
 not fit to hunt or kill ; II. iv. 
 
 43- 
 Rash, quickly ignited; IV. iv. 
 48. 
 
 From a fin of th^, year 1728, on which 
 are depicted tl is and other scenes of 
 Udrlholomew Fair. 
 
 149
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Rated, chided ; III. i. 68. 
 
 Recordation to, memory of; 11. 
 iii. 6i. 
 
 Red lattice, an ale-house win- 
 dow, commonly red; II. ii. 
 86. (Q. illustration.) 
 
 Red wheat, late wheat, spring 
 wheat; V. i. i6. 
 
 Rememher'd, mentioned ; V. ii. 
 142. 
 
 Remembrance, memory ; II. iii. 
 59; admonition; V. ii. 115. 
 
 Render d, reported, told ; I. i. 
 27. 
 
 Resolved correction, the chas- 
 tisement determined upon ; 
 
 IV. i. 213. 
 
 Respect, regard, consideration; 
 
 I. i. 184. 
 Rheumatic, probably a blunder 
 
 for splenetic ; II. iv. 60. 
 Rides the zvild-mare, plays at 
 
 see-saw ; II. iv. 259. 
 Rigol, circlet ; IV. v. 2)^. 
 Ripe, mature ; IV. i. 13. 
 Rising, insurrection ; I. i. 204. 
 Robin Hood, Scarlet and John; 
 
 V. iii. 103. (Cp. illustra- 
 tion.) 
 
 From the editio i>7-inceps (i685) of 
 Robin Hood's Garland. 
 
 Rood, cruciHx; III. ii. 3. (^Cp. 
 illustration.) 
 
 From the MS. Harl., 1527. 
 
 Roundly, without much cere- 
 mony ; III. ii. 20. 
 
 Routs, gangs ; IV. i. 33. 
 
 Rowel-head, the axis on which 
 the wheel-shaped points of a 
 spur turn ; I. i. 46. 
 
 Royal faiths, faith to the king 
 (Hanmer conjectured, "loy- 
 al") ; IV. i. 193. 
 
 Sack; generic term for Spanish 
 wines ; I. ii. 214. 
 
 Sad, sober, serious; V. i. 89. 
 
 Sadly, soberly ; V. ii. 125. 
 
 Samingo, probably a blunder 
 for San Domingo, the patron 
 saint of topers ; a common 
 burden of drinking-songs ; V. 
 
 iii; 75. 
 Saving your manhoods, saving 
 
 your reverence ; II. i. 27. 
 Scab, a term of contempt and 
 
 disgust ; III. ii. 290. 
 Scattered stray, stragglers ; IV. 
 
 ii. 120. 
 
 150
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Scal'd up, fully confirmed ; IV. 
 V. 104, 
 
 Sect, sex ; II. iv. 39. 
 
 Scmhlable, similar; V. i. 6g. 
 
 Set off, (?)=cast out, ig- 
 nored, or = rendered account 
 for (Clarke) ; (perhaps the 
 phrase is intentionally 
 vague) ; IV. i. 145. 
 
 Set on, begin to march ; I. iii. 
 109. 
 
 Seven stars, the Pleiades ; II. 
 iv. 196. 
 
 Shadows; " s. to fill up the 
 muster-book," i.e. " we have 
 in the muster-book many 
 names for which we receive 
 pay, though We have not the 
 men" (Johnson) ; III. ii. 143. 
 
 Shall, will; I. ii. 24. 
 
 Sherris-sack, sherry ; a Spanish 
 wine, so called from the town 
 of Xeres ; IV. iii. 99. 
 
 Shot, marksman; III. ii. 289. 
 
 Shove-groat ; " s. shilling," al- 
 luding to a game which con- 
 sisted in pushing pieces of 
 money on a board to reach 
 certain marks ; II. iv. 200. 
 (Cp. illustration in Merry 
 Wives. ) 
 
 Shrewd, mischevious ; II. iv. 
 220. 
 
 Shrove-tide, a time of special 
 merriment, as the close of the 
 carnival season ; V. iii. 36. 
 
 Sights, eye-holes; IV. i. 121. 
 
 Sign of the leg, the sign over a 
 bootmaker's shop ; II. iv. 262. 
 
 Silkman, silk mercer; II. i. 29. 
 
 Single, simple, silly (used quib- 
 blingly) ; I. ii. 198. 
 
 Slops, loose breeches; I. ii. 34. 
 
 Smack, taste, savour ; I. ii. 106. 
 
 Smooth-pates, sleek-h e a d e d ; 
 " a synonym for the later and 
 more historical name round- 
 heads" (Quarto, " smoothy- 
 pates") ; I. ii. 42. 
 
 Sneap, snubbing, rebuke; II, i. 
 129. 
 
 So, so be it ; III. ii. 248. 
 
 Soft; " s. silencing," gently re- 
 proving ; V. ii. 97. 
 
 Something a, a somewhat (Col- 
 lier MS., ''something of"); 
 I. ii. 2C2-3. 
 
 Soon; " soon at night," this 
 very night ; V. v. 91. 
 
 Sort, manner; IV. v. 201. 
 
 South, south wind; II. iv. 382. 
 
 Spirits, monosyllabic (as oft- 
 en) ; I. i. 198. 
 
 Spoke on, spoken of (Folios, 
 "spoken of") ; II. ii. 69. 
 
 Stand; " s. my good lord," be 
 my kind master, patron ; IV. 
 iii. 85. _ = 
 
 Stand upon, insist upon ; I. ii. 
 
 41. 
 
 Spirits, monosyllabic (as 
 often) ; I. i. 108. 
 
 State of Hoods; "the majestic 
 dignity of the ocean" (Ma- 
 lone) ; (Hanmer, "Hoods of 
 state") ; V. ii. 132. 
 
 Stick, hesitate ; I. ii. 25. 
 
 Stiff-home, obstinately pur- 
 sued; I. i. 177. 
 
 Still, continually ; Induct. 4. 
 
 Still-discordant, ever-discord- 
 ant; Induct. 19. 
 
 Still-stand, standstill ; II. iii. 64. 
 
 Stomach, appetite; IV. iv. 105. 
 
 151
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Stops, the holes in a wind in- 
 strument by the opening or 
 closing of which by the fin- 
 gers the sounds are pro- 
 duced; Induct. 17. 
 
 Strained, excessive; I. i. 161. 
 
 Strange-achieved, (?) strange- 
 ly acquired (by wrong 
 means) ; according to some. 
 " gained in foreign lands " 
 (Schmidt, "gained and not 
 yet enjoyed")-; IV. v. 72. 
 
 Stratagem, " anything amazing 
 and appalling " ; I. i. 8. 
 
 Strengths, armies, forces ; I. iii. 
 76. 
 
 Strond, strand ; I. i. 62. 
 
 Studied, inclined; II. ii. 10. 
 
 Success, succession, continua- 
 tion; IV. ii. 47. 
 
 Successively, by right of suc- 
 cession ; IV. V. 202. 
 
 Sufferance, suffering; V. iv. 28. 
 
 Suggestion, temptation ; IV. iv. 
 
 45. 
 
 Supplies, additional forces, re- 
 serves ; IV. ii. 45. 
 
 Surecard; " surecard was used 
 as a term for a boon-com- 
 panion as lately as the latter 
 end of the last century" 
 (Malone) ; (Quartos, " Soc- 
 card") ; III. ii. 94- 
 
 Suspire, breathe; IV. v. ZZ- 
 
 Swaggerers, bullies, blusterers ; 
 
 II. iv. 80. 
 
 Sway on, move on (Collier 
 
 " Let's away ") ; IV. i. 24. 
 Sivinge-hucklers, roisterers : 
 
 III. ii. 23. 
 
 Swinged, whipped; V. iv. 21. 
 
 Tables; table-books, memoran- 
 dum books ; II. iv. 280. 
 
 Ta'en up, taken up, levied 
 (Quarto, "tane"; Folios, 
 "taken"); IV. ii. 26. 
 
 Take the heat, get the start of 
 him; II. iv. 314-5. 
 
 Take such order, give such or- 
 ders; III. ii. 194. 
 
 Take up, encounter ; I. iii. y^)- 
 
 Taking up, obtaining on trust ; 
 I. ii. 45. 
 
 Tall, used ironically ; V. i. 62. 
 
 Tail, sturdy ; III. ii. 66. 
 
 Tapfortap,t\\.iorid.i; II. i. 201. 
 
 Tempering, becoming soft like 
 wax; IV. iii. 136. 
 
 Temperality, Mrs. Q.'s blunder 
 for temper; II. iv. 24. 
 
 Tends, contributes (Folios, 
 "tends"; Quarto, " in- 
 tends") ; I. ii. 9. 
 
 Tester, sixpence ; III. ii. 291. 
 
 Tewksbury mustard, mustard 
 made in Tewkesbury; II. iv. 
 
 253- 
 
 That that, that which; IV. iv. 
 
 That, so that; I. i. I97- 
 
 Theme, business; I. iii. 22. 
 
 Thewes, muscles and sinews ; 
 III. ii. 271. 
 
 Thick, fast ; II. iii. 24. 
 
 Thin man in a censer, evidently 
 meaning that the officer wore 
 the kind of cap which is here 
 likened to a censer ; V. iv. 20. 
 (Cp. Censer.) 
 
 Three-man beetle, " a heavy 
 rammer with three handles 
 used in driving piles, requir- 
 ing three men to wield it " ; 
 I. ii. 246. 
 
 152
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Tilly-fally, an exclamation of 
 contempt ; II. iv. 87. 
 
 Tirrits, Mrs. Q.'s blunder for 
 (?) terrors; II. iv. 213. 
 
 To^ compared to ; IV. iii. 55. 
 
 To, for; III. ii. 175. 
 
 Tolling, ringing for (Quarto, 
 '' tolling " ; Folios, " knell- 
 ing") ; I. i. 103. 
 
 Toward, in preparation ; II. iv. 
 208. 
 
 Toys, trifles; II. iv. 178. 
 
 Trade, activity, intercourse 
 with; I. i. 174. 
 
 Traverse, marsh ; III. ii. 286. 
 
 Trimm'd, trimmed up, fur- 
 nished with (Folios, 2, 3, 4, 
 " trimm'd up " ; Vaughan, 
 " Cramm'd") ; I. iii. 94. 
 
 Trip, defeat ; V. ii. 87. 
 
 Turk; "the Turk," the Grand 
 Turk — the Sultan ; III. ii.325. 
 
 Turnbull street, a corruption of 
 Turnmill Street, near Clerk- 
 enwell ; the resort of bullies, 
 rogues, etc. (Folios, " Turn- 
 ball") ; in. ii. 2>2Z. 
 
 Twelve score, twelve score 
 yards; III. ii. 51. 
 
 Uneasy, uncomfortable ; III. i. 
 10. 
 
 Uniirm, weak ; I. iii. y^- 
 
 Unseason'd, unseasonable ; III. 
 i. 105. 
 
 Up-swarm'd, raised in swarms ; 
 IV. ii. 30. 
 
 Utis ; " old utis," great fun 
 (utis, cp. huit ; originally ap- 
 plied to the eighth day of a 
 festival) ; II. iv. 20. 
 
 Vail his stomach, lower his 
 haughty pride ; I. i. 129. 
 
 Valuation; "our v.." the estim- 
 ation of us ; IV. i. 189. 
 
 Vmrlet, knave, rascal ; V. iii. 12. 
 
 Vazvard, vanguard (Theobald 
 conjectured "rearguard" or 
 " waneward ") ; I. ii. 190. 
 
 Vent, small hole made for pas- 
 sage ; Induct. 2. 
 
 Venture, let us venture; I. i. 
 185. 
 
 Vessel; ' the united v. of their 
 blood,' the vessel of their 
 united blood ; IV. iv. 44. 
 
 Vice, grip, grasp (Quarto, 
 " view") ; II. i. 22. 
 
 Vice's dagger, the wooden dag- 
 ger carried by the Vice of the 
 old Morality plays; III. ii. 
 
 Wanton, luxurious, effiminate ; 
 I. i. 148. 
 
 Warder, staff of command ; IV. 
 i. 125. 
 
 Wassail candle, a large candle 
 lighted up at a feast ; I. ii. 
 169. 
 
 Watch-case, sentry-box; III. i. 
 17. 
 
 Water-work, water colours; II. 
 i. 152. 
 
 Well conceited, clevered, re- 
 torted; V. i. Z7- 
 
 Well encounter' d, well met ; IV. 
 ii. I. 
 
 What, an exclamation of im- 
 patience ; V. i. 2. 
 
 What, who; I. i. 2. 
 
 153
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 IVhaf the good-year, supposed 
 lo be a corruption from gou- 
 jere, i.e. the French disease; 
 a mild oath ; TI. iv, 62. 
 
 Wheeson. Whitsun ; (Folios, 
 "Whit son")', IT. i. 92. 
 
 Whipping-cheer, whipping fare ; 
 V. iv. 5. {Cp. illustration.) 
 
 Who, which; V. ii. 128. 
 
 Winking, closing his eyes; I. 
 
 With, by; I. i. 204. 
 
 Withal, with ; IV. ii. 95. 
 
 Within a ken, in sight; IV. i. 
 151. 
 
 ' Witness' d usurpation ' = " wit- 
 nesses, or traces, of its usur- 
 pation " ; I. i. 63. 
 
 JVoe-begone, overwhelmed with 
 grief; (Bentley conjectured 
 " Ucalegon '') ) I. i. 71. 
 
 JJ'oman-queller, woman-killer : 
 II. i. 55- 
 
 Woncot, Wilnecote, a village 
 near Stratford (Collier MS., 
 " Wilnecot") ; V. i. 40. 
 
 Wo't, wouldst; "Thou wo't, 
 wo't thou ? thou wo't, wo't 
 ta?" (Quarto, ''thou wot, 
 wot thou, thou zvot, wot ta" ; 
 Folios, " Thou wilt not? thou 
 wilt not? ")\ II. I 59. 
 
 Wrought the mure, worn away 
 the wall ; IV. iv. 119. 
 
 Yea-forsooth knave ; " one say- 
 ing yea and forsooth ; allud- 
 ing to the mild quality of citi- 
 zen oaths " ; I. ii. 40. 
 
 Yeoman, a kind of under-bailiff, 
 sheriff's officer; II. i. 3. 
 
 Yet, still ; I. i. 82. 
 
 Zeal; " z. of God," i.e. "devo- 
 tion to God's cause" (Capell 
 conjectured "seal") ; IV. ii. 
 27. 
 
 Whipping-cheer. 
 From an engraving by Fairholt. 
 
 154
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. 
 
 Induction. 'Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues' so Quarto; 
 Folios, 'Enter Rumour.' In ancient pageants Rumour was often 
 represented as apparelled in a robe ' full of toongs ' ; Stephen 
 Hawes, in his Pastime of Pleasure, describes Rumour as 
 
 "A goodly lady, environed about 
 WitJi tongues of fire." 
 
 Similarly Chaucer, House of Fame, 298-300. Probably the idea 
 was ultimately derived from Virgil, JEneid. IV. 173-188. 
 
 Induct. 6. ' tongues' so Quarto ; Folios, ' tongue.' 
 
 Induct. 8. ' men,' so Quarto ; Folios, ' them.' 
 
 I. i. 62. 'whereon,' so Quarto; Folios, 'when.' 
 
 I. i. 66. 'Hateful death put on his ugliest mask. Cp. the accom- 
 panying illustration from a specimen formerly used in the Tod- 
 tentanz, and preserved in the old German Museum of Nuremberg. 
 
 I. i. 164. ' Lean ' ; Quarto, ' leaue ' ; ' your ' ; Quarto, ' you.' 
 
 I. i. 166-179; 189-209; omitted in Quarto. 
 
 I. ii. 8. 'foolish-compounded clay, man'; 
 Quarto and Folios, ' foolish compounded clay- 
 man.' 
 
 I. ii. 39. 'his tongue he hotter,' alluding to 
 the rich man in the Parable, Luke xvi. 24. 
 
 I. li. 40. 'a rascally yca-forsooth knave''. 
 Quarto, ' rase all.' 
 
 I. ii. 61, 62. ' here comes the nobleman zvho 
 committed the prince,' etc. ; this was Sir Wil- 
 liam Gascoigne, Chief Justice of the King's 
 Bench. Cp. illustration to note on V. ii. z^. 
 
 I. ii. 129. In Quarto the prefix ' Old ' is 
 given instead of Fal( staff), cp. Preface. 
 
 I. ii. 180. 'I cannot go; I cannot tell'; Johnson was probably 
 right in seeing here a play on go and tell in the sense of ' pass 
 current' and ' count as good money.' 
 
 155
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 I. ii. 229. 'spit white'; cp. Batman uppon Bartholome, ed. 
 1582 (quoted by Dr. Furnivall) : — "If the spittle be zvhite viscus, 
 the sickness cometh of fleam; if black, of melancholy; the white 
 spittle not knottie signiHeth health." Other passages indicate that 
 it was also regarded as a sign of thirst. 
 
 I. ii. 232-238. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 I. iii. 36-55. Omitted in Quarto. 
 
 I. iii. z^, etc. 
 
 'If this present quality of war 
 Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot," etc. 
 
 Various attempts have been made to restore the meaning of the 
 lines. Malone's reading has been generally accepted: — 
 
 ' Yes, in this present quality of war: 
 Indeed the instant action — a cause on foot — 
 Lives so in hope as in an early spring/ 
 
 which Grant White paraphrases, " Yes, in this present quality, 
 function, or business of war, it is harmful to lay down likelihoods, 
 etc. Indeed this very action or affair — a cause on foot — is no more 
 hopeful of fruition than the buds of an unseasonably early spring." 
 Pope proposed "Impede the instant act"; Johnson, "in this pres- 
 ent. . . . Indeed of instant action"; Mason, "if this prescient 
 quality of war Induc'd the instant action," etc. 
 
 T. iii. 71. ' against the French.' A French army of 12,000 men 
 landed at Milford Haven in Wales, for the aid of Glendower, dur- 
 ing this rebellion. 
 
 I. iii. 85-108. Omitted in Quarto. 
 
 II. i. 162. 'so God save me, la! '; Quarto, 'so God save me 
 law ' ; Folios, ' in good earnest la.' 
 
 II. ii. 26-30. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 II. ii. 80. 'virtuous'; Folio, 'pernicious' ; Capell conjectured 
 'precious.' 
 
 II. ii. 92. ' Alth(sa ' ; the boy here confounds Althaea's firebrand 
 with Hecuba's ; perhaps the blunder was the poet's. 
 
 II. ii. 121. 'borrower's cap'; Theobald's emendation; Folios 
 and Quarto, ' borrowed cap.' 
 
 II. ii. 180. ' leathern jerkins,' commonly worn by vintners and 
 tapsters. 
 
 II. iii. 12. ' heart's dear Harry ' ; Folios, ' heart-deere-Harry.' 
 
 II, iii. 19. 'thee grey vault of heaven'] cp. the use of 'grey* 
 
 156
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 applied to the eyes, where we generally use 'blue'; 'grey-eyed 
 morn' {Romeo and Juliet, II. iii. i) may perhaps illustrate the 
 same fact. 
 
 II. iv. 35. ' When Arthur first in court'; from the ballad of Sir 
 Lancelot du Lake, printed in Percy's Reliques. 
 
 11. iv. 51. 'your broocJies, pearls, and ouches'', a scrap of an 
 old ballad, first marked as a quotation by Capell. 
 
 II. iv. 56, 57. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 II. iv. 115. Pistol has been likened to the character of 'the 
 swaggering ruffian,' Centurio, in the famous Spanish play by 
 Rojas, called Celestina, which was translated into English by 
 James Mabbe ; and though entered on the Stationers' Register in 
 1598, the translation was not issued till 1630. It is more than 
 probable that Mabbe was one of Shakespeare's friends; at all 
 events, the dramatist may easily have read the English Tragicke- 
 Comedye of Celestina in MS. (Mabbe's fascinating book has re- 
 cently been reprinted as a volume of Mr. Nutt's Tudor Trans- 
 lations.) 
 
 II. iv. 137. 'Since when, I pray you, sir?' a scoffing form of 
 enquiry. 
 
 II. iv. 142, 143. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 II. iv. 168. 'Have zve not Hiren here?' probably a quotation 
 from a lost play by George Peele called The Turkish Mahomet 
 and Hyren the Fair Greek ; ' Hiren,' a corruption of ' Irene.' 
 
 II. iv. 173. 'And hollow pamper d jades of Asia'; cp. 2 Tam- 
 biirlainc, IV. iv. : — 
 
 " Holla, ye pamper' d jades of Asia! 
 What ! can ye draw but tzventy miles a day? " 
 
 II. iv. 177. 'Let tJie ivelkin roar'; a commonplace tag in old 
 ballads of the time. 
 
 II. iv. 187. 'Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis'; a bur- 
 lesque of passages in Peele's Battle of Alcazar (1594) ; Muley 
 Mahomet enters to his wife with lion's flesh on his sword, and 
 says, 'Feed then, and faint not, my fair Calipolis.' 
 
 II, iv. 189. 'Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento'; the 
 line, probably purposely corrupted, was restored by Hanmer : — 
 ' Si fortuna mc tormenta, il sperare me contenta' {i.e. ' If fortune 
 torments me, hope contents me '). " Pistol is only a copy of Han- 
 nibal Gonsaga," remarked Farmer, " who vaunted on yielding 
 
 157
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 himself a prisoner, as you may read in an old collection of tales, 
 called Wits, Fits, Fancies: — 
 
 'Si Fortiina mc tormenta, 
 II speranca me contenta.' 
 
 l^ 
 
 r 
 
 
 From an old French rapier formerly in the Douce collection. 
 
 II. iv. 205. ' Then death rock me asleep,' etc. ; said to be a frag- 
 ment of an old song written by Anne Boleyn. 
 
 II. iv. 207. 'Untwine the Sisters Three'; cp. Midsummer- 
 Night's Dream, V. i. 343-348, where there is a reference to the 
 ' shears ' of Atropos, the Fate that cut the thread of human des- 
 tiny. 
 
 II. iv. 279. ' Fiery Trigon ' ; alluding to the astrological division 
 of the zodiacal signs into four trigons or triplicities; one consisting 
 of the three fiery signs (Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius) ; the others, 
 respectively, of three airy, three watery, and three earthly signs. 
 When the three superior planets were in the three fiery signs they 
 formed a fiery trigon ; when in Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces, a 
 zvatery one, etc. 
 
 III. i. The whole scene omitted in Quarto i {i.e. the earlier 
 copies of the edition). 
 
 III. i. 30. 'Then happy lozv, lie dozvn!'; Quarto reads 'Then 
 (happy) low lie dozvne.' Coleridge suggested ' Then happy lozv- 
 lie-dozvn' ; Warburton, 'happy lowly dozen.' The Folio seems 
 to make the meaning quite clear : — ' Then happy Lowe, lye 
 downe ' ; ' low ' is used substantively, ' You who are happy in 
 your humble situations, lay down your heads to rest,' etc. 
 
 III. i. 43. ' little,' i.e. ' a little.' 
 
 III. i. 53-56. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 Ill i. 66. 'cousin Nevil' ; the earldom of Warwick did not 
 come into the family of the Nevilles till the latter part of the reign 
 of Henry VI. ; at this time it was in the family of Beauchamp. 
 
 III. ii. 'Justice Shallozv' ; the character has, with much rea- 
 son, been identified with Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote {cp. The 
 Merry Wives of Windsor) ; perhaps there is a reference to his 
 arms in the words, 'If the young dace he a bait for the old pike, 
 
 158
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 Notes 
 
 / see no reason in the lazu of nature but I may snap at line' (cp. 
 infra, 11. 351,352; ' luce ' = ' pike,' cp. Note, line i, Merry Wives 
 of Windsor) . 
 
 Ill, ii. 26. ' Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a hoy, and 
 page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.' This is generally- 
 given as one of the points of evidence that Falstaff was originally 
 called Oldcastle, Sir John Oldcastle having actually been in his 
 youth page to the Duke of Norfolk : but it would seem that the 
 same is true of Sir John Fastolf. 
 
 III. ii. 31. '/ see (Folios, 'saw') him break Skogan's head' 
 (Quarto, Skoggins; Folio i, ' Scoggans') ; two Scogans must be 
 carefully differentiated, though probably both are confused by 
 Shakespeare in this passage: — (i.) Henry Scogan, the poet. Chau- 
 cer's Scogan, described by Ben Jonson in The Fortunate Isles, as 
 
 "a fine gentleman, and master of arts 
 Of Henry the Fourth's times, that made disguises 
 For the King's sons, and writ in ballad royal 
 Daintily well" ; 
 
 (ii.) John Scogan, " an excellent mimick, and of great pleasantry 
 in conversation, the favourite buffoon of the court of Edward 
 
 From Faithome's Map of Londo7i. 1658, the only known copy of 
 which is preserved in the National Library at Paris.
 
 Notes 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 IV." A book of ' Scogins Jests' was published in 1565 by An- 
 drew Borde, and probably suggested the name to Shakespeare. 
 
 III. ii. 140. 'but flinch of the father's substance' ; so Quarto: 
 Folios, 'not'; the Variorum of 1821 proposed 'not much'; the 
 Quarto reading must be understood as ironical. 
 
 III. ii. 203. 'The ivindmill in St. George's Held'; (cp. illus- 
 tration). 
 
 III. ii. 294. ' Dagonct in ArtJiurs shozv'; Sir Dagonet is Ar- 
 
 T/ie Kmghts of the Rojiud Table (see note on III. ii. 294) 
 From an illuminated MS. of Lancelot (No 676) in the National Library at Paris. 
 
 thur's fool in the story of Tristram de Lyonesse ; 'Arthur's shoiu ' 
 was an exhibition of archery by a society of 58 members which 
 styled itself " The Ancient Order, Society, and Unitie laudable of 
 Prince Arthur and his Knightly Armory of the Round Table," 
 
 160
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 and took the names of the knights of the old Romance. Mul- 
 caster referred to it in his Positions, concerning the training up 
 of children (1581). The meeting-place of the society was Mile- 
 end Green. (The names of the knights of the old romance may 
 be well illustrated by the illustration on the next page.) 
 
 III. ii. 331. 'invisible'; Rowe's emendation; Quarto and Fo- 
 lios, 'invincible.' i.e. (?) "not to b^ evinced, not to be made 
 out, indeterminable " (Schmidt). 
 
 III. ii. 2>2)2,32>2>- 'y(^i • • • mandrake' ; 340-343, 'a came 
 . . . good-nights'; omitted in Folios. 
 
 III. ii. 349. 'philosopher's two stones'; "one of which was an 
 universal medicine, the other a transmuter of base metals into 
 gold " ; so Warburton ; Malone explains : — " I will make him of 
 twice the value of the philosopher's stone." 
 
 IV. i. 55-79. Omitted in Quarto. 
 
 IV. i. 71. 'there'; the reading of the Folios; Hanmer con- 
 jectured ' sphere ' ; Collier ' chair.' 
 
 IV. i. 93. Neither this line nor 95 is to be found in the Folios, 
 and they are omitted in some copies of the Quarto. To some 
 corruption of the text is due the obscurity of 11. 94-96, which 
 Clarke paraphrases : — " The grievances of my brother general, the 
 commonwealth, and the home cruelty to my born brother, cause 
 me to make this quarrel my own." The archbishop's brother 
 had been beheaded by the King's order. 
 
 IV. i. 103-139. Omitted in Quarto. 
 
 IV. i. 173. 'true substantial form,' i.e. ' m due form and legal 
 validity.' 
 
 IV. iii. 43. 'hook-nosed fellow of Rome'; Quarto adds 'there 
 cosin' before 'I came' which Johnson took to be a corruption 
 of ' there, Ccesar.' 
 
 IV. iii. 121, 122. 'commences it and sets it in act and use'; 
 Tyrwhitt saw in these words an allusion "to the Cambridge Com- 
 mencement and the Oxford Act; for by those different names 
 the two Universities have long distinguished the season at which 
 each gives to her respective students a complete authority to use 
 those hoards of learning which have entitled them to their sev- 
 eral degrees." 
 
 IV. iv. 35. 'as flaws congealed in the spring of day': according 
 to Warburton the allusion is " to the opinion of some philosophers 
 that the vapours being congealed in the air by the cold (which is 
 most intense in the morning), and being afterwards rarefied anl 
 let loose by the warmth of the sun, occasion those sudden a;iJ 
 
 161
 
 Notes 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 impetuous gusts of wind which are called flaws"; Malone 
 explained ' Haws ' to mean " small blades of ice which are stuck 
 on the edges of the water in winter mornings." 
 
 IV. iv. 122. ' loathly births of nature/ i.e. unnatural births. 
 
 IV. V. 205. 'And all my friends'; Tyrwhitt's conjecture for 
 ' thy friends ' of the Folios and Quarto. Dyce ' my foes/ Clarke 
 explains the original reading thus : — " By the first thy friends the 
 King means those who are friendly inclined to the prince, and 
 who, he goes on to say, must be made securely friends." 
 
 IV. V. 235. "Tis called Jerusalem' ', probably from the tapes- 
 tries of the history of Jerusalem with which it was hung; now 
 used for the meetings of Convocation. 
 
 V. i. 31, 32. 'A friend i' court is better tlian a penny in purse'; 
 cp. The Romaunt of the Rose, 5540: — 
 
 For frcnde in court aic better 
 Than peny is i npurse, certis" 
 
 IS 
 
 Camden gives the same proverbial expression. 
 
 V. ii. 38. 'A ragged and forestall'd remission' ; ' forestall' d has 
 been variously interpreted; the simplest interpretation seems to 
 be ' anticipated, asked for before being granted,' not necessarily 
 by the Chief-Justice himself, but by his friends ; the explanation 
 fits, in well with the dignified utterance of the speaker. Others 
 explain, ' a pardon that is sure not to be granted, the case having 
 been prejudged '; 'a pardon which is precluded from being abso- 
 lute, by the refusal of the offender to accuse or 
 ~ alter his conduct,' etc. (The accompanying figure, 
 
 from a monument in Deerhurst Church, Glouces- 
 tershire, represents the costume of a judge of the 
 time of Henry IV.) 
 
 V. iii. 7i. 'Do me right'; 'to do a man right' 
 was formerly, according to Steevens, the usual ex- 
 pression in pledging healths. 
 
 'And dub me knight' ; it was a custom in Shake- 
 speare's day to drink a bumper kneeling to the 
 health of one's mistress. He who performed this 
 exploit was dubbed a knight for the evening, cp. A 
 Yorkshire Tragedy, "They call it knighting in Lon- 
 don when they drink upon their knees" (Malone). 
 V. iii. 121. 'Dead? As nail in door'; an ancient 
 proverbial expression ; the door-nail was probably 
 lIic nail on which the knocker struck. "' It is there- 
 
 162
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 fore used as a comparison to any one irrevocably dead, one who 
 has fallen (as Virgil says) multa morte, that is, with abundant 
 death, such as iteration of strokes on the head would naturally 
 produce." 
 
 V. iii. 141. ' Where is the life that late I led ' ; a scrap of an old 
 song; cp. Taming of the Shrew, IV. i. 
 
 V. V. 28. 'absque hoc nihil est,' ''tis all in every part'; the 
 second and later Folios correct ' obsque ' to ' absque,' but the 
 error may have been intentional on the author's part. Pistol uses 
 a Latin expression ' ever the same, for without this there is 
 nothing,' and then goes on to allude to an English proverbial 
 expression, " All in all, and all in every part," which he seems to 
 give as its free rendering. 
 
 V. V. 108. ' 7 heard a bird so sing ' ; a proverbial expression 
 still extant. 
 
 Epilogue. Shakespeare's authorship of this epilogue has been 
 doubted, and it has been described as ' a manifest and poor imi- 
 tation of the epilogue to As You Like If.' It is noteworthy that 
 it occurs already in the Quarto (1600), though with one im- 
 portant difference ; the words ' and so kneel dozen . . . queen ' 
 (11- 3^y ^7) are printed there at the end of the first paragraph, 
 after ' infinitely.' It seems probable, therefore, that the epilogue 
 originally ended there, and that the remaining lines were added 
 somewhat later. One is strongly tempted to infer that the addi- 
 tions to the epilogue were called forth by the success of the first 
 and second parts of the play of Sir John Oldcastle, written evi- 
 dently to vindicate the character of Falstaff's original, and put 
 on the stage as a counter-attraction to Henry IV., hence the 
 words, added in a spirit of playful defiance, 'for Oldcastle died a 
 martyr, and this is not the man' (1. 2>3)- The first part of Sir 
 John Oldcastle was performed for the first time about the ist of 
 November 1599, the second part, dealing with the Lollard's death, 
 wase evidently written by the end of the year. The First Part 
 of the true and honourable history of the Life of Sir John Old- 
 castle, the good Lord Cobham, appeared in two editions in 1600; 
 Shakespeare's name had been impudently printed on the title- 
 page of the former and less correct edition ; the authors were 
 Munday, Drayton, Wilson, and Chettle. The ' Second Part ' is 
 not known to exist. 
 
 1. 28. ' our humble author will continue the story, with Sir 
 John in it, and make you merry with fair Katharine in France ' ; 
 Shakespeare changed his mind. " The public was not to be in- 
 
 163
 
 Notes 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 dulged in laughter for laughter's sake at the expense of his play. 
 The tone of the entire play of Henry V. would have been altered 
 if Falstaff had been allowed to appear in it. . . . Agincourt 
 is not the field for splendid mendacity. . . . There is no place 
 for Falstaff any longer on earth ; he must find refuge ' in Ar- 
 thur's bosom.' " But the public would not absolve " our humble 
 author of his promise, and they were to make merry again with 
 their favourite 
 
 'round about the oak 
 Of Heme the hunter.'" 
 
 Interior of an Elizabethan Inn, Rochester. 
 From an engraving by Fairholt. 
 
 164
 
 KING HENRY IV, 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially seUcted and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dowden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 [Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues.] Judge Holmes and 
 other commentators have called attention to the following from 
 Bacon's essay, 0/Fa;n£': "The poets make Fame a monster: they 
 describe her in part finely and elegantly ; and. in part gravely and 
 sententiously ; they say, Look how many feathers she hath: so 
 many eyes she hath underneath, so many tongues, so many 
 voices, she pricks up so many ears. This is a flourish. There 
 follow excellent parables; as that she gathereth strength in 
 going ; that she goeth upon the ground, and yet hideth her head 
 in the clouds ; that in the daytime she sitteth in a watch-tower, 
 and flieth most by night; that she mingleth things done with 
 things not done, and that she is a terror to great cities." This 
 description is almost a literal translation of that given of Fama 
 by Virgil, 
 
 35. this worm-eaten hold: — Northumberland's residence, Wark- 
 worth Castle. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 6. [Enter Northumberland.] Holinshed gives these particu- 
 lars : " The King was minded to have gone into Wales against 
 the Welsh rebels, that, under their chieftain Owen Glendower, 
 ceased not to do much mischief still against the English subjects. 
 But at the same time, to his further disquieting, there was a con- 
 
 x65
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 spiracy put in practice against him at home by the Earl of North- 
 umberland, who had conspired with Richard Scroope, Archbishop 
 of York, Thomas Mowbray, earl marshall, son to Thomas, Duke 
 of Norfolk, who for the quarrel betwixt him and King Henry 
 had been banished, the Lords Hastings, Fauconbridge, Bardolfe, 
 and diverse others. It was appointed that they should meet alto- 
 gether with their whole power upon Yorkswold, at a day as- 
 signed, and that the Earl of Northumberland should be chieftain, 
 promising to bring with him a great number of Scots. The arch- 
 bishop, accompanied with the earl marshall, devised certain ar- 
 ticles of such matters as it was supposed that, not only the com- 
 monalty of the realm, but also the nobility, found themselves 
 grieved with : which articles they showed first unto such of their 
 adherents as were near about them, and after sent them abroad to 
 their friends further off, assuring them that, for redress of such 
 oppressions, they would shed the last drop of blood in their 
 bodies, if need were." 
 
 47. devour the zcay: — So in Job, xxxix. 24: "He swallowcth 
 the ground with fierceness and rage." The same expression oc- 
 curs in Ben Jonson's Sejanus: "But with that speed and heat of 
 appetite, with which they greedily devour the way to some great 
 sports." 
 
 209. more and less: — Great and small in rank; high and low. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 I. The practice of diagnosing diseases by the mere examination 
 of urine was once so much in fashion that Linacre, the founder of 
 the College of Physicians, formed a statute to restrain apothe- 
 caries from carrying the water of their patients to a doctor, and 
 afterwards giving medicines in consequence of the opinions pro- 
 nounced concerning it. This statute was followed by another, 
 which forbade the doctors themselves to pronounce on any dis- 
 order from such an uncertain diagnosis. 
 
 7. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: — This passage 
 might be aptly quoted as proving that with Falstaff the main busi- 
 ness of life is to laugh and provoke laughter. He is manifestly 
 himself proud of the pride that others take in girding at him ; 
 enjoys their quips even more perhaps than they do, because he is 
 the begetter of them; as being the flint which alone can draw 
 forth sparks from their steel, and himself shining by the light he 
 
 166
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 causes them to emit. And in what he says just after to the Page 
 we see that much as he values the things that minister to his 
 " huge hill of flesh," he values that hill itself still more as min- 
 istering opportunities of saying fine things ; and that he would 
 not spare an ounce from that bulk out of which he can extract 
 occasion for such prodigies of humour. 
 
 40. a rascally yea-forsooth knave! — Shakespeare here alludes to 
 the mild quality of citizen oaths, which excites no less disgust in 
 Falstaff than in Hotspur — affording an edifying comment on the 
 strange points that afford self-complacency to those who plume 
 themselves on their aristocratic superiority and patrician super- 
 excellence. Very noteworthy is it that even while arousing our 
 highest admiration at the spirited lines w4th which he has limned 
 Harry Percy, or at the unction of blended wit and humour with 
 which he makes Sir John fabricate a characteristic epithet out of 
 a petty oath by way of designating a city mercer, the Poet gives us 
 at the very same time a pithy index of the insolent assumptions 
 entertained by the dominant and domineering classes in his time. 
 
 145, 146. As I u'as then advised, etc. : — The Poet shows some 
 knowledge of the law here ; for, in fact, a man employed as Fal- 
 staff then was could not be held to answer in a prosecution for 
 an offence of the kind in question. 
 
 241,242. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to fur- 
 nish me forth f — The point and aptness of this question are so 
 subtle as to be, perhaps, not always taken. The judge has just 
 been exhorting him to honesty ; he therefore says. Will your lord- 
 ship let me have something to be honest with? If you will lend 
 me a thousand pounds, I will agree not to steal for a while. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [Enter the Archbishop.] "The Archbishop." as Holinshed re- 
 lates, " not meaning to stay after he saw himself accompanied 
 with a great nurnber of men, that came flocking to York to take 
 his part in this quarrel, forthwith discovered his enterprfse, caus- 
 ing the articles aforesaid to be set up in the public streets of the 
 city of York, and upon the gates of the monasteries, that each 
 man might understand the cause that moved him to rise in arms 
 against the King, the reforming whereof did not yet appertain 
 unto him. Hereupon knights, esquires, gentlemen, yeomen, and 
 other of the commons, as well of the city, towns, and countries 
 
 167
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 about, being alhirea eitner for desire of change, or else for desire 
 to see a reformation in such things as were mentioned in the ar- 
 ticles, assembled together in great numbers ; and the Archbishop 
 coming forth amongst them, clad in armour, encouraged, ex- 
 horted, and pricked them forth to take the enterprise in hand, and 
 manfully to continue in their begun purpose ; promising forgive- 
 ness of sins to all them whose hap it was to die in the quarrel; 
 and thus, not only all the. citizens of York, but all other in the 
 countries about that were able to bear weapon, came to the Arch- 
 bishop and the earl marshall. Indeed, the respect that men had 
 to the Archbishop caused them to like the better of the cause, 
 since the gravity of his age, his integrity of life, and incompa- 
 rable learning, with the reverend aspect of his amiable personage, 
 moved all men to have him in no small estimation." 
 
 82. The Duke of Lancaster: — 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. At this time Prince 
 Henry was actually Duke of Lancaster. Shakespeare was misled 
 by Stowe, who, speaking of the first Parliament of King Henry 
 IV., says, "His second sonnc was there made Duke of Lancaster." 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 44. [Enter Falstaff.] Of this play's changes from grave to gay, 
 Ulrici says : " The comic parts illustrate clearly and fully the 
 leading thought of the whole play in both its parts. In the first 
 we are shown that strife and war, in the second that so-called 
 state actions (even though they treat of outwardly important in- 
 terests, of crowns and principalities) are wholly unable to give 
 history any real historical value ; further that this value can be 
 only of an ideal, ethical nature, and that, accordingly, with the 
 rupture of the moral foundation, the organic equilibrium of politi- 
 cal life itself is broken; that the course of history (even though 
 outwardly and apparently well-regulated and entering other 
 paths) is nevertheless internally disturbed and will not admit of 
 the state enjoying rest and peace, till it has again recovered its 
 necessary equilibrium." 
 
 88-108. Coleridge cites this speech of the Hostess as an instance 
 of narrative " fermenting o'er with frothy circumstance," and his 
 
 168
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 comment upon it is one of those rare felicities of criticism, such 
 as we never think of until started by another, nor ever forget 
 them after ; they being so natural and apt that the mind no sooner 
 sees them than it closes with them. " The poor soul's thoughts 
 and sentences/' says he, " are more closely interlinked than the 
 truth of nature would have required, but that the connections and 
 sequence, which the habit, of Method can alone give, have in this 
 instance a substitute in the fusion of passion. For the absence of 
 Method, which characterizes the uneducated, is occasioned by an 
 habitual submission of the understanding to mere events and 
 images as such, and independent of any power in the mind to 
 classify and appropriate them. The general accompaniments of 
 time and place are the only relations which persons of this class 
 appear to regard in their statements." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 [Prince Henry.] Brandes says: "Shakespeare had certainly 
 sufficient personal experience to enable him to sympathize with 
 this princely youth, who, despite the consciousness of his high aims, 
 revels in his freedom, shuns the court life and ceremonial which 
 await him, throws his dignity to the winds, riots in reckless high 
 spirits, boxes the ears of the Lord Chief Justice, and has yet self- 
 command enough to suffer arrest without resistance, takes part 
 in a tourney with a common wench's glove in his helm — in short, 
 does everj^thing that most conflicts with his people's sense of pro- 
 priety and his father's doctrines of prudence, but does it without 
 coarseness, with a certain innocence, and without ever having 
 to reproach himself with any actual self-degradation. Henry 
 IV. misunderstands his son as completely as Frederick William 
 of Prussia misunderstood the young Frederick the Great." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [Northumberland.] "Northumberland," says Hudson, "makes 
 good his previous character : evermore talking big and doing noth- 
 ing; full of verbal tempest and practical indecision; and still 
 ruining his friends, and at last himself, between " I would " and " I 
 dare not," he lives without our respect and dies unpitied of us ; 
 v/hile his daughter-in-law's remembrance of her noble husband 
 kindles a sharp resentment of his mean-spirited backwardness, 
 and a hearty scorn of his blustering verbiage." 
 
 169
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 [Tlie Boar's-head Tavern.] Thornbury has aptly remarked that 
 the characteristic of the Elizabethan age was its sociability. 
 People were always meeting at St. Paul's, the theatre, or the 
 tavern. Family intercourse, on the other hand, was almost un- 
 known; women, as in ancient Greece, played no prominent part 
 in society. The men gathered at the tavern club to drink, talk, 
 and enjoy themselves. The festive bowl circulated freely, even 
 more so than in Denmark, which nevertheless passed for the 
 toper's paradise. (Compare the utterances on this subject in 
 Hamlet, I. iv., and Othello, II. iii.) The taverns were, moreover, 
 favourite places for the rendezvous of court gallants with citi- 
 zens' wives ; fast young men would bring their mistresses with 
 them, and here, after supper, gambling went on merrily. At 
 the taverns writers and poets met in good fellowship, and carried 
 on wordy wars, battles of wit, sparkling with mirth and fantasy. 
 They were like tennis-rallies of words, in which the great thing 
 was to tire out your adversary; they were skirmishes in which 
 the combatants poured into each other whole volleys of conceits. 
 Beaumont has celebrated them in some verses to Ben Jonson, 
 who, both as a great drinker and as an entertaining magister 
 bibendi, was much admired and feted : — 
 
 " What things have we seen 
 Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been 
 So nimble, and so full of subtile flame, 
 As if that every one from whence they came 
 Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest 
 And had resolv'd to live a fool the rest 
 Of his dull life." 
 68-71. Come, I 'II be friends, etc. : — It has been aptly suggested 
 that Mistress Doll, as if inspired by the present visitation, grows 
 poetical here, and improvises in the lyric vein. The close of her 
 speech, if set to the eye as it sounds to the ear, would stand some- 
 thing thus : — 
 
 " Come, I '11 be friends with thee. Jack : 
 Thou art going to the wars ; 
 And whether I shall ever see thee again, 
 Or no, there is nobody cares." 
 89-92. Master Tisick . . . Master Dumbe: — The names of 
 Master Tisick and Master Dumbe are ludicrously intended to de- 
 
 170
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 note that the deputy was pursy and short-whided , the minister 
 one of those who preached only the homihes set forth by author- 
 ity Th Puritans nicknamed them Dumb-dogs, and the oppro- 
 brious epithet continued in use as late as the re>gn of Kmg 
 
 ^^i^Vol'no cheater -.-rh, humour consists in Mrs, Quickly's 
 miluking ^cl eater for an cscheator or officer of the exchequer 
 Lord Coke puns upon the equivoque: " But tf you will be conten 
 io let the eseheator alone, and not look mto h.s actions, he w 11 
 be contented by deceiving you to change his name takmg unto 
 htmselt "he two last syllables only, with the es left out. and so 
 
 '",63 ""''''-V to the la-. -.-By several statutes made in the 
 .eii>?s of Elizabeth and James I. for the -g"'^'- ^f ^^f^''^^^^^ 
 of fish davs, victuallers were expressly forbidden o furn.sh flesh 
 ^n lent The brothels were formerly screened under the preten e 
 of being victualling houses and taverns, just as too often we see 
 
 them in cities to-day. , , , . « Tho=A valedirtorv 
 
 404 an honester and truer-hearted man:- These valedictory 
 word "says Clarke, " (printed in the Folio with a dash, to indi- 
 cate a broken speech, as if unfinished from incapacity to express 
 S she feels of admiration) uttered by Hostess Qmckly after 
 neart thirty years' experience of Sir John's honesty and truth, 
 serve blue than pages of commentary upon his powers of fasci- 
 naton o show hotv strong is the spell he exercises upon the 
 fud°ement and affections of those with whom he associates. The 
 Hostess's blind idolatry, Bardolph's toughly worshipping attach- 
 m«"?as seen in Henry V.) form the handsomest excuse for the 
 bewitchment with which the Prince seeks his society. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 let-er; depths of his own experience, and addressed to men of 
 the ike expe nee and thought. Every word of this Scene is m 
 the liighest'degree significant and admirable. It is here that the 
 
 171
 
 Noles THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 King turns to what we now call geology for an image of the his- 
 torical mutability of all things. When he mournfully reminds his 
 attendants that Richard II., whom he displaced, prophesied a 
 nemesis to come from those who had helped him to the throne, 
 and that this nemesis has now overtaken him, Warwick answers 
 with the profound and astonishingly modern reflection embodied 
 in these lines. 
 
 92-93. To the words of Warwick just cited, the King returns 
 this no less philosophical answer. 
 
 103. Glcndozvcr is dead : — Glendower did not die till after the 
 death of King Henry IV. Shakespeare was led into this error by 
 Holinshed. 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 50, SI. clapped i' the clout, etc.: — By the provisions of an old 
 statute, every person turned of seventeen years of age, who shoots 
 at a less distance than twelve score yards, is to forfeit six shillings 
 and eight pence. 
 
 71. accommodated: — It appears that it was fashionable in the 
 Poet's time to introduce the word accommodate upon all occa- 
 sions. Ben Jonson, in his Discoveries, calls it one of the perfumed 
 terms of the time. The indefinite use of it is well ridiculed by 
 Bardolph's vain attempt, a few lines below, to define it. 
 
 89. {Enter Falstaff.] Brandes thinks this play in its serious 
 scenes more faithful to history than the first part. " In the comic 
 scenes, which are very amply developed," he declares that 
 " Shakespeare has achieved the feat of bringing Falstafif a second 
 time upon the stage without giving us the least sense of anti- 
 climax. He is incomparable as ever in his scenes with the Lord 
 Chief Justice and with the women of the tavern; and when he 
 goes down into Gloucestershire in his character of recruiting- 
 officer, he is still at the height, of his genius. As new comrades 
 and foils to him, Shakespeare has here created the two con- 
 temptible country justices, Shallow and Silence. Shallow is a 
 masterpiece, a compact of mere stupidity, foolishness, boastful- 
 ness, rascality, and senility ; yet he appears a genius in compari- 
 son with the inefi^able Silence. Here, as in the first part, the Poet 
 evidently drew his comic types from the life of his own day." 
 
 ^S7- Vice's dagger : — There is something excessively ludicrous 
 in the comparison of Shallow to this powerless weapon of that 
 droll personage, the old Vice or fool. 
 
 172
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 170 et. scq. Holinshed's account runs : " The messengers re- 
 turning to the Earl of Westmoreland, showed him what they had 
 heard and brought from the Archbishop. When he had read the 
 articles, he showed in word and countenance outwardly that he 
 liked the Archbishop's holy and virtuous intent and purpose, 
 promising that he and his would prosecute the same in assisting 
 the Archbishop, who rejoicing hereat gave credit to the earl, and 
 persuaded the earl marshall (against his will as it were) to go 
 with him to a place appointed for them to commune together. 
 Here when they were met with like number on either part, the 
 articles were read over, and without any more ado the Earl of 
 Westmoreland and those that were with him, agreed to do their 
 best to see that a reformation might be had, according to the 
 same. The Earl of Westmoreland using more policy than the 
 rest: Well (said he) then our travail is come to the wished end: 
 and where our people have been long in armour, let them depart 
 home to their wonted trades and occupations : in the meantime 
 let us drink together in sign of agreement, that the people on both 
 sides may see it, and know that it is true, that we be light at point. 
 They had no sooner shaken hands together, but that a knight was 
 sent straightways from the Archbishop, to bring word to the peo- 
 ple that there was peace concluded, commanding each man to lay 
 aside his arms, and to resort home to their houses." 
 
 176. our awful banks: — Of course the image of a river is sug- 
 gested ; human life being compared to a stream that ought to flow 
 in reverential obedience to the order and institutions of the state. 
 Keeping itself within the proper bounds, it moves in reverence 
 and awe ; in overflowing them it renounces this. 
 
 193. our royal faiths: — So in Henry VIII., IV. i. 7, 8: "The 
 citizens . . . have shown at full their royal minds," that is, 
 their minds well affected to the king. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 8. an iron man : — Holinshed says of the Archbishop, that, " com- 
 ing foorth amongst them clad in armour, he encouraged and 
 pricked them foorth to the enterprise in hand." 
 
 62 et seq. Holinshed narrates : " The people beholding such 
 
 173
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 tokens of peace, as shaking of hands and drinking together of the 
 lords in loving manner, they being already wearied with the un- 
 accustomed travail of war, brake up their field and returned home- 
 wards : but in the meantime, whilst the people of the Archbishop's 
 side withdrew away, the number of the contrary part increased, 
 according to order given by the Earl of Westmoreland : and yet 
 the Archbishop perceived not that he was deceived, until the Earl 
 of Westmoreland arrested both him and the earl marshall with 
 diverse other. Thus saith Walsingham. But others write some- 
 what otherwise of this matter, affirming that the Earl of West- 
 moreland indeed, and the Lord Rafe Evers, procured the Arch- 
 bishop and the earl marshall to come to a communication with 
 them, upon a ground just in the midway betwixt both the armies, 
 where the Earl of Westmoreland in talk declared to them how 
 perilous an enterprise they had taken in hand, so as to raise the 
 people, and to move war against the King; advising them there- 
 fore to submit themselves without further delay unto the King's 
 mercy, and his son the Lord John, who was present there in the 
 field with banners spread, ready to try the matter by dint of sword, 
 if they refused this counsel ; and therefore he willed them to re- 
 member themselves well : and if they would not yield and crave 
 the King's pardon, he bade them to do their best to defend them- 
 selves." 
 
 112-123. I paivn'd thee none, etc.: — Johnson and other critics 
 have been very indignant that the Poet did not put into the mouth 
 of some character a strain of hot indignation against this instance 
 of treachery. In answer to which Verplanck very aptly quotes a 
 remark said to have been made by Chief Justice Marshall. The 
 counsel, it seems, had been boring the court a long time with try- 
 ing to prove points that nobody doubted; and the judge, after 
 bearing it as long as he well could, very quietly informed him that 
 " there were some things which the court might safely be pre- 
 sumed to know." Perhaps the critics in question did not duly 
 consider, that the surest way in such cases to keep down right 
 feeling, is to take for granted that men do not know how to feel, 
 and so go about to school them up to it. Verplanck rightly ob- 
 serves, that when Mowbray, two lines above, asks, " Is this pro- 
 ceeding just and honourable?" the Poet "took for granted that 
 his audience would find an unhesitating and unanimous negative 
 and indignant reply in their own hearts, without hearing a ser- 
 mon upon it from the deceived Archbishop, or a lecture from 
 some bystander." 
 
 174
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 37,38. nine score and odd posts: — " Falstaff's fine exaggera- 
 tions," as Clarke notes, " have so rich an excess that they proclaim 
 their own immunity from censure as lies. They at once avow inno- 
 cence of intention to deceive ; they are uttered for the pure pleas- 
 ure of wit-invention. It is not that he for a moment expects 
 Prince John to believe in his having foundered more than a hun- 
 dred and eighty horses, but he has a relish in defending himself 
 with such exuberance of resource that his hearer shall be com- 
 pelled to give way. He is not in the right ; but it is his will that 
 those who listen to him shall allow him to leave off as if he were 
 in the right, even while he is in the wrong, for the pure sake of his 
 wit. He never proves his case ; but he so ably defends his cause 
 that he invariably gains the day. No one can condemn, though no 
 one acquits him; he is left unjudged, and suffered still to go at 
 large, and in triumph — the victor ever." 
 
 90,91. a viau cannot make him laugh: — Falstaff's pride of wit 
 — a pride which is most especially gratified in the fascination he 
 has upon Prince Henry — is shrewdly manifested here, while at 
 the same time a very important and operative principle of human 
 character in general, and of Prince John's character in particular, 
 is most hintingly touched. Falstaff sees that the brain of this 
 " sober-blooded boy " has nothing for him to get hold of or work 
 upon ; that be he never so witty in himself he cannot be the cause 
 of any wit in him ; and he is vexed and mortified that his wit 
 fails upon him. And the Poet meant no doubt to have it under- 
 stood that Prince Henry was drawn and held to Falstaff by virtue 
 of something that raised him immeasurably above his brother; 
 and that the frozen regularity, which was proof against all the bat- 
 teries of wit and humour, was all of a piece, vitally, with the 
 moral hardness which would not flinch from such an abominable 
 act of perfidy as that towards the Archbishop and his party. Well, 
 therefore, does Johnson remark upon the passage : " He who can- 
 not be softened into gaiety, cannot easily be melted into kindness." 
 
 106. becomes excellent wit: — Concerning this first "property of 
 your excellent sherris," some curious matter has been quoted by 
 Hughson in his History of London, from an unpublished Diary of 
 Ben Jonson preserved at Dulwich College. One memorandum 
 runs thus : " I laid the plot of my Volpone, and wrote most of it, 
 after a present of ten doz. of Palm sack, from my very good Lord 
 T ; that play, I am positive, will last to posterity, when I 
 
 175
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 and Envy are friends with Applause." Again, speaking of his 
 Catiline, he thinks one of its scenes is flat, and therefore resolves 
 to drink no more water with his wine. And he describes The Al- 
 cJiemist and TJie Silent Woman as the product of much and good 
 wine, adding, withal, that The Devil is an Ass " was written when 
 I and my boys drank bad wine." Doubtless Shakespeare and rare 
 old Ben had discussed the virtues of sack in more senses than 
 one in some of their wit-combats at the Mermaid ; though which 
 of them was the master, and which the pupil, in this deep science, 
 cannot now be ascertained. Both their establishments, no doubt, 
 were pretty good at convertin-g wine into wit ; but surely Shake- 
 speare's must have been far the best, since all the benefit of Fal- 
 staff's full-grown and ripe experience had accrued to him. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 [The Jerusalem chamber.] Holinshed says: " We find that he 
 [King Henry] was taken with his last sickness while he was mak- 
 ing his prayers at Saint Edward's shrine, there as it were to take 
 his leave and so to proceed forth on his journey. He was so sud- 
 denly and grievously taken, that such as were about him feared 
 lest he would have died presently. Wherefore, to relieve him (if 
 it were possible), they bare him unto a chamber that was next at 
 hand belonging to the Abbot of Westminster, where they laid him 
 on a pallet before the fire, and used all remedies to revive him. 
 At length he recovered his speech and understanding, and per- 
 ceiving himself in a strange place which he knew not, he willed 
 to know if the chamber had any particular name ; whereunto 
 answer was made that it was 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 prophecy of me 
 declared, that I should depart this life in Jerusalem." 
 
 7Q. (So. 'Tis seldom zvhcn the bee, etc.: — As the bee, having once 
 placed her comb in a carcass, 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. 
 
 122. Unfather'd heirs: — To Staunton, these were certain so- 
 called prophets, who pretended to have been conceived by miracle, 
 like Merlin. So Spenser, in The Faerie Queene: — 
 
 " And. sooth, men say that he was not the sonne 
 Of mortall Syre or other living wight, 
 But wondrously begotten, and begonne* 
 
 1/6
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 By false illusion of a guilefull Spright 
 
 On a faire Lady Nonne, that whilome hight 
 
 Matilda, daughter to Pubidius, 
 
 Who was the lord of Mathraval by right, 
 
 And coosen unto King Ambrosius ; 
 
 Whence he indued was with skill so merveilous." 
 
 Also Montaigne, Essays : " In Mahomet's religion, by the 
 easie beleefe of that people, are many Merlins found; that is to 
 say, fatherles children ; spiritual children, conceived and borne 
 devinely in the wombs of virgins," etc. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 2, 3. Unless some dull, etc. : — It has always been thought that 
 slazi; or in the old sense, dull music induces sleep. Ariel enters 
 playing solemn music to produce this effect, in The Tempest. The 
 notion is not peculiar to our Poet, as the following exquisite lines, 
 from Wit Restored, 1658, may witness : — * 
 
 " O, lull me, lull me, charming air, 
 
 My senses rock'i 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." 
 [Enter Prince Henry.] Holinshed thus narrates the circum- 
 stances of the Prince's interview with the King : " The prince, sore 
 offended with such persons as by slanderous reports sought, not 
 only to spot his good name abroad in the realm, but to sow dis- 
 cord also betwixt him and his father, wrote his letters into every 
 part of the realm, to reprove all such slanderous devices of those 
 that sought his discredit. And to clear himself the better, that the 
 world might understand what wrong he had to be slandered in 
 such wise, about the feast of Peter and Paul, to wit, the nine-and- 
 twentieth day of June, he came to the court, with such a number 
 of noblemen and other his friends that wished him well, as the 
 like train had been seldom seen repairing to the court at any one 
 time in those days. The court was then at Westminster, where he 
 being entered into the hall, not one of his company durst once 
 
 177
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 advance himself further than the fire in the same hall, notwith- 
 standing they were earnestly requested by the lords to come 
 higher ; but they, regarding what they had in commandment of 
 the Prince, would not presume to do in any thing contrary there- 
 unto. He himself, only accompanied with those of the King's 
 house, was straight admitted to the presence of the King his 
 father, who being at that time grievously diseased, yet caused him- 
 self in his chair to be borne into his privy chamber, where, in the 
 presence of three or four persons in whom he had most confidence, 
 he commanded the Prmce to show what he had to say concerning 
 the cause of his coming. The Prince kneeling down before his 
 father, said : Most redoubted and sovereign lord and father, I am 
 at this time come to your presence as your liege man, and as your 
 natural son, in all things to be at your commandment. And where 
 I understand you have in suspicion my demeanour against your 
 Grace, you know very well, that if I knew any man within this 
 realm of whom you should stand in fear, my duty were to punish 
 that^erson, thereby to remove that grief from your heart. Then 
 how much more ought I to suffer death, to ease your Grace of 
 that grief which you have of me, being your natural son and liege 
 man; and to that end I have this day made myself ready by con- 
 fession and receiving the sacrament. And therefore I beseech 
 you, most redoubted lord and dear father, for the honour of God, 
 to ease your heart of all such suspicion as you have of me, and to 
 despatch me here before your knees with this same dagger (and 
 withal he delivered unto the King his dagger in all humble rever- 
 ence, adding further, that his life was not so dear to him that he 
 wished to live one day with his displeasure) ; and therefore, in 
 thus ridding me out of life, and yourself from all suspicion, here 
 in presence of these lords, and before God at the day of the gen- 
 eral judgement, I faithfully protest clearly to forgive you. The 
 King, moved herewith, cast from him the dagger, and, embracing 
 the Prince, kissed him, and with shedding tears confessed, that 
 indeed he had him partly m 'suspicion, though now (as he per- 
 ceived) not with just cause; and therefore from thenceforth no 
 misreport should cause him to have him in mistrust; and this he 
 promised of his honour. Thus were the father and the son recon- 
 ciled, betwixt whom the said pickthanks had sown division." 
 
 163. medicine potable : — It was long a prevailing opinion that a 
 solution of gold had great medicinal virtues ; and that the incor- 
 ruptibility of the metal might be communicated to the body im- 
 pregnated with it. Potable gold was a panacea of ancient quacks. 
 
 178
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 [Enter . . . Falstaff.] " If," says Hudson, " we were to fix 
 upon anything as especially characteristic of Falstaff, we should 
 say it is an amazing fund of good sense. His vast stock of this, to 
 be sure, is pretty much all enlisted or impressed into the service 
 of sensuality, yet nowise so but that the servant still overpeers and 
 outshines the master. Moreover, his thinking has such agility 
 and quickness, and at the same time is so apt and pertinent, as to 
 do the work of the most prompt and popping wit, yet in such sort 
 as we cannot but feel the presence of something much larger 
 and stronger than wit. For mere wit, be it never so good, to be 
 keenly relished must be sparingly used, and the more it tickles the 
 sooner it tires. But no one can ever weary of Falstaff's talk, who 
 understands it; his speech being like pure, fresh cold water, 
 which always tastes good, because it is — tasteless. The wit of 
 other men seems to be some special faculty or mode of thought, 
 and lies in a quick seizing of remote and fanciful affinities ; 
 whereas in Falstaff it lies not in any one thing more than another, 
 for which cause it cannot be defined, being indeed none other 
 than that roundness and evenness of mind which we call good 
 sense, so quickened and pointed as to produce the effect of wit, 
 yet without hindrance to its own proper effect.'' 
 
 45-55- I grant your worship, etc. : — This is no exaggerated pic- 
 ture of the course of justice in Shakespeare's time. Sir Nicholas 
 Bacon, in a speech in Parliament, 1559, says, "Is it not a mon- 
 strous disguising to have a justice a maintainer, acquitting som? 
 for gain, enditing others for malice, bearing with him as his 
 servant, overthrowing the other as his enemy? " A member of 
 the House of Commons, in 1601, says, "A justice of peace is a 
 living creature, that for half a dozen chickens will dispense with 
 a dozen of penal statutes," 
 
 66-68. // / zvere sawed, etc. : — Clarke comments here : " The 
 relish with which Falstaff each time stays by himself to witticize 
 upon Shallow's peculiarities, the gusto with which he makes the 
 justice's leanness furnish him with as ample store of humour as 
 his own fatness, the shrewdness with which he penetrates the 
 truth of the relative qualities and positions of the country magis- 
 trate and his serving-man, all show how thoroughly the author 
 
 179
 
 Noies THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 liimself enjoyed the composition of this thrice admirable comedy- 
 portrait character." 
 
 76-80. // / had a suit, etc. : — This is a most shrewd and search- 
 ing commentary on what has just passed between Shallow and 
 Davy in Falstaff's presence. It is impossible to hit them more 
 aptly, to take them off more felicitously. Of course Sir John 
 could not be the greatest of makesports, as he is, unless he were, 
 or at least were capable of being, something more. And in fact 
 he has as much practical sagacity and penetration as the King ; 
 there being no other person in the play, except Prince Henry, that 
 dives so quickly and deeply into the characters of those about him. 
 
 86. which is four tcrtns : — These terms were the terms or sit- 
 tings of the courts, by which the seasons were then commonly 
 reckoned. During the law terms, many people went up from the 
 country into the city, to transact business, learn the fashions, and 
 do sundry other things. Some one has justly remarked upon the 
 humour of making a spendthrift thus compute time by those 
 periods which a hard-up debtor would be apt to remember. 
 
 88. et seq. Lloyd says: "In the second part of Henry IV. 
 Falstaff lets out the principle and secret of his sycophancy. ' O 
 it is much,' he says, ' that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a 
 sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his 
 shoulders.' The rogue infallibly divines the Prince's rejoinder to 
 every remark he makes, grossly as he mistakes as to the main 
 point of the ultimate hold he supposes himself to possess on his 
 habits or sympathies. To supply the Prince with mirth is his busi- 
 ness and his enjoyment, and he gains his ludicrous Doints by ex- 
 aggerating his personal unwieldiness and vices of mind and habit, 
 ever with full reliance that the Prince will fall into the trap and 
 never discern the trick. When wit and mirth and nimbleness of 
 imaginative suggestions are in question, Falstaff is as superior to 
 the Prince as the master to his instrument, and it is the very use 
 of this superiority that misleads him into the belief that he has 
 equal sway over his earnest purposes. The Prince is even inferior 
 to Poins in the imaginative design and conduct of a jest." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 73-83. / then did use . . . commit you : — While Sir Will- 
 iam Gascoigne was at the bar, Henry of Bolingbroke was his 
 client, and appointed him his attorney to sue out his livery in the 
 Court of Wards ; but Richard II. defeated his purpose. When 
 
 180 
 
 J
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 Bolingbroke became Henry IV. he appointed Gascoigne Chief 
 Justice. In that station he acquired the character of a learned, 
 upright, wise and intrepid judge. In treating the commitment of 
 the Prince, Shakespeare follows the Chronicles. 
 
 113, 114. Forzchicli, I do commit, etc. : — " The reader," says Ver- 
 planck, " must bear in mind that the present tenure of office for 
 life by the English judges is but modern; and that, under the 
 Plantagenets and Tudors, a Chief Justice might be removed like 
 any other officer of the crown. Henry's voluntary retaining the 
 Chief Justice in his high station is, therefore, a manly acknowl- 
 edgement of his own error, and a magnanimous tribute to the up- 
 rightness of the magistrate. The story of the Prince's insolence, 
 and his commitment to prison, is strictly historical, being related 
 briefly by Hall and Holinshed, and more minutely by Sir Thomas 
 Elyot, in his book of political ethics entitled The Goveniour. But 
 these are all silent as to Henry V.'s after-treatment of the Chief 
 Justice, or the latter's being continued in office after the accession 
 of Henry V. Several of the Shakespearian historical critics . . . 
 deny the fact itself, and some of them in a tone of rebuke for 
 the * author's deviation from history.' I should be sorry to lose a 
 noble example of moderation and magnanimit}^ in the exercise of 
 political patronage, from history; but if those comments are cor- 
 rect, Shakespeare deserves the higher honour of not having 
 merely adopted and beautifully enforced, but having invented the 
 striking incident, embodying a noble lesson of political ethics, 
 which in our own days even republican rulers may profit by. I in- 
 cline to the opinion that the English commentators are in error 
 as to the fact, and that the Poet has merely decorated and en- 
 forced the truth, which probably came down to him by popular 
 and general tradition, as a plain fact, to which he has given the 
 impressive weight of moral instruction." Verplanck follows these 
 remarks with an argument in support of the substantial historical 
 accuracy of the Poet in his treatment of the matter. And it is 
 now considered to have been fully established that Shakespeare 
 herein has based his " lesson of political ethics " on history no 
 less than upon his own ideals of magnanimity. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 3. caraways : — Caraway seeds were formerly much eaten with 
 apples, for reasons which appear from the following quotations : 
 In Cogan's Haven of Health, 1594, it is stated that '" careway
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 seeds are used to be made in comfits, and to be eaten with apples, 
 and surely very good for that purpose, for all such things as breed 
 wind would be eaten with other things that breake wind." Again : 
 " Howbeit we are wont to eate carrawaies, or biskets, or some 
 other kind of comfits or seedes, together with apples, thereby to 
 breake winde ingendred by them; and surely this is a verie good 
 way for students." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 [Hostess Quickly and Doll Tcarsheet.] " In his first years in 
 London," says Brandes, " Shakespeare, as an underling in a com- 
 pany of players, can have had no opportunity of associating with 
 other women than, firstly, those who sat for his Mistress Quickly 
 and Doll Tearsheet ; secondly, those passionate and daring women 
 who make the first advances to actors and poets ; and, thirdly, 
 those who served as models for his Merry Wives, with their 
 sound bourgeois sense and not over delicate gaiety. But the ordi- 
 nary citizen's wife or daughter of that day offered the Poet no 
 sort of spiritual sustenance. They were, as a rule, quite illiterate. 
 Shakespeare's younger daughter could not even write her own 
 name." 
 
 Scene V, 
 
 56. Reply not, etc.: — "We see by this," shrewdly observes 
 Clarke, " that there was a light in Falstaff's eye, a play of his lip 
 that betokened some repartee as to wherefore the grave should 
 naturally gape wider for him than for other and slenderer men; 
 and the King, knowing of old that once let Falstaff retort and he 
 is silenced, forestalls the intended reply by forbidding and con- 
 demning it beforehand." 
 
 " Nature," declares Warburton, " is highly touched in this pas- 
 sage. 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 presenting him with a 
 pleasant idea, he cannot forbear pursuing it — ' Know, the grave 
 doth gape for thee thrice wider,' etc. — and is just falling back into 
 Hal, by a 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 '; 
 
 182
 
 KING HENRY IV. Notes 
 
 and so resumes the thread of his discourse, and goes morahzing 
 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." 
 
 The great change which transformed the Hal of yesterday into 
 the King of to-day is thus set forth by Holinshed : " Henry, 
 Prince of Wales, son and heir to King Henry the Fourth, born in 
 Wales, at Monmouth on the river of Wye, after his father was 
 departed took upon him the regiment of this realm of England, 
 the twentieth of March, 1413, the morrow after proclaimed king 
 by the name of Henry the Fifth, This king even at first appoint- 
 ing with himself to show that in his person princely honours 
 should change public manners, he determined to put on him the 
 shape of a new man. For whereas aforetime he had made himself 
 a companion unto misruly mates of dissolute order and life, he 
 now banished them all from his presence (but not unrewarded, 
 or else unpreferred), inhibiting them, upon a great pain, not once 
 to approach, lodge, or sojourn within ten miles of his court or 
 presence ; and in their places he chose men of gravity, wit, and 
 high policy, by whose wise counsel he might at all times rule to 
 his honour and dignity." 
 
 1B3
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Questions on 2 Henry IV. 
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 1. From what work of literature is this personification o! 
 Rumour ultimately derived? 
 
 2. Does Rumour in the following play ever influence the course 
 of the action ? 
 
 3. What does Rumour report of Harry Monmouth ; of the 
 King; of Northumberland? 
 
 4. What influence had Rumour in establishing the grounds for 
 the action of this play ? 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 5. What kind of sickness has Rumour attributed to Northum- 
 berland? In what way does the news from the field of Shrews- 
 bury reach him? How does he reveal his true character when the 
 authentic reports arrive? 
 
 6. What words of Harry Percy in the First Part do the words 
 of Morton (i. 170, 171) recall? 
 
 7. How does the insurrection, headed by the Archbishop of 
 York, differ in character and in personnel from the rebellion 
 headed by Percy? 
 
 8. What estimate of himself as a wit-producer does Falstaff 
 utter? Into what state do his money affairs seem to be falling? 
 Explain the secular use to which St. Paul's Church was put. 
 
 9. For what is the Lord Chief Justice noted? How is the in- 
 cident here casually alluded to used elsewhere in the play? 
 
 10. How long does Sir John play upon his assumption of 
 deafness? What reputation did he acquire from Shrewsbury? 
 
 11. Justify his humorous contentions concerning his youth. 
 
 12. What effort had the King made to separate Falstaff and 
 Prince Hal? 
 
 13. How does Falstaff employ his mind when he has no 
 audience ? 
 
 184
 
 KING HENRY IV. Questions 
 
 14. What principles does Lord Bardolph lay down (Sc. iii.) 
 that should check the enterprise? Is Northumberland trusted? 
 How is the fickleness of public opinion shown? 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 15. Does Hostess Quickly's defense of herself for bringing suit 
 against Falstaff reveal a fondness for him, and so an excuse for 
 her harshness ? 
 
 16. Explain the method by which Hostess Quickly's mind 
 works. In ^his does she resemble the Nurse in Romeo and 
 Juliet ? 
 
 17. How does Falstaff escape from the threatened arrest? 
 
 18. How is the recruitmg scene of Act HI. foreshadowed? 
 
 19. What compunctions (Sc. ii.) does the Prince feel for keep- 
 ing bad company? Why would he show no sadness over his 
 father's sickness ? 
 
 20. What was Shakespeare's intention in introducing the Page 
 into the play? 
 
 21. What were the contents of Falstaff 's letter to the Prince? 
 Does Falstaff show jealousy of the Prince's friendship with 
 Poins? From what stratum of society did Poins spring? What 
 is argued from the fact that he is the only one to whom the Prince 
 confides the serious side of his nature? 
 
 22. What new details does Lady Percy in Sc. iii. add to the 
 portrait of Hotspur? What is the dramatic purpose of her speech 
 as regards Northumberland? What revelation of herself is here 
 effected ? 
 
 23. Did the Prince ever show a genuine regard for Sir John? 
 What effect had his jest with the apple-johns upon Falstaff'? 
 
 24. Comment upon the realism of Shakespeare as seen in his 
 characterization of Doll Tearsheet. Does she possess even t!:e 
 mitigating quality of humour? 
 
 25. What qualities are shown in Pistol that are lacking in the 
 composition of the roisterers? 
 
 26. Did Doll recognize the Prince and Poins in their dis- 
 guises? 
 
 27. What is the effect of Falstaff 's words, / am old, I am old? 
 
 28. May we regard Sc. iv. as marking a culminating point in 
 the Prince's wild career? To show this dramatically is not the 
 uncompromising vulgarity of the tavern scene necessary? Give 
 
 185
 
 Questions THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 a psychological analysis of the Prince during this scene. Is he 
 elsewhere in the play seen with his tavern companions? 
 
 29. What is foreshadowed in the Prince's words : Falstaff, good 
 night? 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 30. What is the tenour of the King's soliloquy at the opening 
 of the Act? How does the contrast presented in this speech 
 conform to the general scheme of the play in presenting con- 
 trasts ? 
 
 31. Is King Henry conscious of any power behind the shows 
 of things, like Nemesis, that causes him uneasiness of spirit ; or 
 does he see only the bare fact of insubordination among his 
 nobles? What is implied by his occasional reference to a pro- 
 jected crusade? 
 
 32. Describe the mental traits of Shallow and of Silence. 
 
 S3. How does Bardolph comport himself away from the peo- 
 ple who know him? 
 
 34. Are Falstaff's recruits to be regarded as typical of English 
 soldiers of any period, or are they invented to serve as butts for 
 Falstaff's wit? 
 
 35. From the reminiscences of Falstaff and Shallow construct 
 a connected account of Falstaff's life. 
 
 36. Comment on his attitude towards Shallow and Silence. 
 From his closing description of Shallow describe the allusive 
 powers of Sir John's mind. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 37. What is heard of Northumberland at the opening of the Act. 
 
 38. State the purpose of Westmoreland in visiting the rebellious 
 nobles. Explain the craft he employs in avoiding the issues they 
 present. 
 
 39. What is Mowbray's position both before and after the with- 
 drawal of Northumberland with the conditions of peace? What 
 is that of the Archbishop of York? 
 
 40. In what way does Lancaster continue the tone of West- 
 moreland in treating? Is there any mitigation of the deception 
 that he played? 
 
 41. Does the sudden illness of Mowbray foreshadow the catas- 
 trophe? Has Shakespeare often presented so sharp a turn in 
 the action of his plays ? 
 
 186
 
 KING HENRY IV. Questions 
 
 42. Was the act of Lancaster and Westmoreland performed at 
 Henry's suggestion? Did it meet with his approval or disap- 
 proval? Where does the dramatist look to find indignant dis- 
 approval? Is such an act disdained by kings in general when it is 
 accomplished successfully? 
 
 43. Explain the humour of Falstaff's words (Sc. iii.), let it be 
 booked zvith the rest of this day's deeds. 
 
 44. Compare the way in which Falstaff fared at the hands of 
 Lancaster with a similar situation in the First Part, V. iv., where 
 Prince Hal stands in place of Lancaster. Is there a feeling that 
 the shadows are beginning to fall around the old knight? 
 
 45. What is the purport of the King's advice to Thomas of 
 Clarence? Is it consonant with the King's character? 
 
 46. What is the effect upon the King of the news from the 
 field of battle? 
 
 47. What recommendations for the guidance of his future 
 reign does the King give to the Prince? 
 
 48. What is the Prince's excuse for removing the crown? 
 Does his apostrophe to the crown bear out the truth of his 
 excuse? 
 
 49. Is the King convinced of the genuineness of the Prince's 
 professions, or pleased with the ability he shows in his own de- 
 fence ? 
 
 50. What is the symbolism implied in the place where the King 
 dies? How searching is it in its application? 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 51. What is the episodic value of Sc. i.? 
 
 52. What apprehensions of the future does the Lord Chief 
 Justice express? How do Warwick and the other members of 
 the royal household deepen the impression of impending dis- 
 asters? 
 
 53. Why was the Lord Chief Justice chosen as the character to 
 lead out King Henry V. to a declaration of his changed pur- 
 poses in life? 
 
 54. Where in i Henry IV. was this scene foreshadowed? 
 
 55. Is this change in the Prince convincing? Is it a change in 
 character or in conduct? 
 
 56. How does Sc. iii. complete the characterization of Silence? 
 How is he differentiated from Shallow? What reserved compli- 
 ment does he pay Falstaff? How does he end his dramatic life? 
 
 187
 
 Questions 
 
 57. How is the news of the King's death and Prince Hal's 
 elevation brought? What is the emotional effect of the conclu- 
 ding part of Sc. iii. ? Is Falstaff's discomfiture foreshadowed in 
 any part of this Scene? 
 
 58. What dramatic purpose does Sc. iv. serve? 
 
 59. Does one look with approval or disapproval on the arrest 
 of Mrs. Quickly and Doll? State the humorous effect of Mrs. 
 Quickly's words, O God, that right should thus overcome anight! 
 considered as a comment upon the whole play. 
 
 60. When does one first know that Falstaff has borrowed his 
 thousand pounds? 
 
 61. How do Falstaff and his party appear to witness the King's 
 procession? What self-deception does the knight indulge in? 
 
 62. What is the first stroke of catastrophe that falls upon him? 
 
 63. Do you approve or disapprove of the King's treatment of 
 Sir John? 
 
 64. How does Falstaff show that he has lost his highest stake? 
 Does he really believe that he will be sent for in private? 
 
 65. How does the Second Part of this play compare in dramatic 
 interest with theTirst Part? Is there felt a loss in the absence 
 of such interest as Hotspur inspires? 
 
 66. Summarize the traits of Henry. Wherein was he strong? 
 What were his limitations? 
 
 67. Give your estimate of the character of Prince Hal. How 
 does he serve as a link-person in producing coherency of action? 
 
 68. What one interest always brought him to himself and 
 secured his best endeavours? In what way may this play be 
 taken as prologue to Henry V. ? 
 
 69. Discuss the ethical anomaly of Falstaff as an artistic cre- 
 ation. 
 
 70. A critic has said : " To Shakespeare, good men and bad 
 are alike parts of the order of Nature, to be understood and in- 
 terpreted with perfect impartialit^^ He gives a diagnosis of the 
 case, not a judgement sentencing them to heaven or hell. His 
 characters prosper or suffer, not in proportion to their merits, but 
 as good and bad fortune decides or as may be most dramatically 
 effective." Considering this as a principle illustrated by the play 
 under consideration, what attitude do you take as to the question 
 of the relations of art and morality?
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA-LOS ANGELES 
 
 
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