Page images

the castle; S and is not a buff-jerkin a most sweet robe of durance ?

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag; what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff-jerkin?

P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my Hostess of the tavern ?

Fal. Well, thou hast call’d her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No, I'll give thee thy due, thou halt paid all there.

P. Henry. Yea and elsewhere, so far as my coin would ftretch ; and where it would not, I have us’d my credit.

Fal. Yea, and so us’d it, that were it not here apparent, that thou art heir apparent

-But, I proythee, sweet wag, shall there be Gallows standing in England, when thou art King ? and resolution thus fobb’d as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick, che law? Do not thou, when thou art a King, hang a thief.

P. Henry. No: thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I ? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

coward to boot. Tbe best is, Sir learned physician, one of the John Falstaff hath relieved the founders of Caius College in memory of Sir John Oldcastle, and Cambridge.

WARBURTON. of late is fubjiituted buffoon in his s And is not a buyjerkin a place. Book 4. p. 168. But, to muft sweet robe of durance?] To be candid, I believe there was understand the propriety of the no malice in the matter. Shake- Prince's answer, it must be reSpear wanted a droll name to his marked that the sheriff's officers character, and never confidered were formerly clad in buff. So that whom it belonged to: we have when Falstaff asks whether his ke/a like instance in the Merry Wives tess is not a sweet wen h, the Prince of Windsor, where he calls his asks in return, whether it will Freneb Quack, Caius, a name, not be a sweet thing to go to prison at that time, very respectable, by running in debi to this weet as belonging to an eminent and wench,


P. Henry

P. Henry. Thou judgeft falfe already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some fort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the Court, 1 can tell you.

P. Henry. “For obtaining of suits?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits ; whereof the hang. man hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a 'gib-cat, or a lugg'd bear.

P. Henry. Or an old Lion, or a lover's lute.
Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

P. Henry. What say'st thou to a Hare, or the 8 melancholy of Moor-ditch ?

Fal. Thou hast the most unfavoury fimilies; and art, indeed, 'the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young Prince—But, Hal, I pr’ythee, trouble me no more with vanity; I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: an old lord of the Council rated me the other day in the street about you, Sir ; but I mark'd him not, and yet he talk'd very wisely, and in the street too.

P. Henry. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. 'O, thou halt damnable iteration, and art,


6 For obtaining of suits.] Suit, after him, read, incomparativi, spoken of one that attends at I suppose for incomparabl, or court, means a petition; used peerlesi, but comparative here with respect to the hangman, means quick at comparisons, or

means the cloaths of the offender. fruitfulin fimilies, and is properly emasmalatt

7 A Gib-cat means, I know introduced. not why, ancldcat;

"O, shou haji, &c.) For ittThe melancholy of Moor- ration Sir T. Hanmer and Dr. ditch I do not understand, unless Warburton read attraliion, of it may allude to the croaking of which the meaning is certainly frogs.

more apparent; but an Editor is The most comparative.] Sir not always to change what he T. Hanmer, and Dr. W'arcurion does not understand. In the last


indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm unto me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over ; by the lord, an I do not, I am a villain. I'll be damn’d for never a King's son in christendom.

P. Henry. Where shall we take a purse to morrow, Jack ?

Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.

P. Henry. I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no


speech a text is very indecently all the Editors here, as any

thro' and abusively applied, to which the whole Set of Plays. Will Falliaff answers, thou hast dam- any one persuade me, Shakespeare nable iteration, or, a wicked trick could be guilty of such an Inof repeating and applying holy confiftency, as to make Poins at texts. This I think is the mean his first Entrance want News of ing.

Gads-hill, and immediately after · In former Editions : to be able to give a full A.count

Fallby, Hal, 'tis my Voca- of him? -No ; Fal:off, leetien, Hal. 'Tis no Sin for a Man ing Poins at hand, turns the to lab ur in his vocation.

Stream of his Discourse from

the Prince, and says. Now mall Enter Poins.

we know whether Gads bill has Poins. Now shall we know, if fet a Match for Us; anů then Gads-hill have fèt a March.) Mr. immediately falls into Railing Pepe has given us one signal Ob- and Invectives against loin. fervation in his Preface to our How admirably is this in CinaAuthor's Works. Throughout his racter for Falfi'aff! And Poins, Plays, says he, had all the Speech- who knew well his abusive es been printed without the very manner, seems in part to overNames of the Perfons, ļ believe hear him: and so soon as he has one might have applied them with return’d the Prince's Salutation, Certainty 19 every Speaker. But cries, by way of Answer, U kat how fallible the most sufficient says Monfieur Remorse? Wrat Critick may be, the Passage in Jays Sir John Sack and Sugar. Controversy is a main Initance.

THEOBALD. As fignal a Blunder has escared Mr. Tbeobald has faltened on an

I 4


fin for a Man to labour in his vocation. Poins !Now shall we know, if Gads-hill have set a match. O, if men were to be sav'd by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him!


Enter Poins.

This is the most omnipotent Villain, that ever cry'd, Stand, to a true Man.

P. Henry. Good morrow, Ned.

Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how agree the devil and thou about thy foul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last, for a cup of Madera, and a cold capon's leg?

P. Henry. Sir John stands to his word; the devil shall have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs ; He will give the devil bis due.

Poins. Then thou art damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.

P. Henry. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil

Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gads-bill; there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses. I have visors for you all; you have horses for yourselves : Gadsbill lies to night in Rochester, I have bespoke supper to morrow night in East cheap; we may do it, as secure as seep: if you will go, I will stuff your purses

cbservation made by Pope, hyper- Theobald's triumph over the other bolical enough, but not contra- Editors might have been abated diated by the erroneous reading by a confeflion, that the first ediin this place, the speech not be- tion gave him at least a glimpse ing fo characteristick as to be of the emerdation. infallibly applied to the speaker.


full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be bang’d.

Fal. Hear ye, Yedward ; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going.

Poins. You will, chops ?
Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. Henry. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.

Fal. There is neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou cam'ft not of the blood royal, if thou dar'st not cry, sand, for ten shillings.:

P. Henry. Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.

Fol. Why, that's well said.
P. Henry. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

Fal. By the lord, I'll be a traitor then when thou art King

P. Henry. I care not.

Poins. Sir John, I pr’ythee, leave the Prince and me alone ; 1 will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.

Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuafion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speak’it may move, and what he hears may be believ'd ; that the true Prince may (for recreation-sake,) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewel, you shall find me in East-cheap.

P. Henry. Farewel, thou latter spring! Farewel, all-hallown summer!

[Exit Falstaff. Poins. Now, my good sweet hony lord, ride with us to morrow. I have a jest to exccute, that I cannot manage alone. 4 Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadf


? The present reading may not Rand for ten fillings. perhaps be right, but I think it i4 In former editions: necessary to remark, that all the Falstaff, HARVET, Rossil, old Editions read, if thou darest and Gads-hill j li robtieje men


« PreviousContinue »