P. Henry. Content: -and the argument fhall be thy running away.

Fal. Ah!-no more of that, Hal, if thou lovest me.

Hoft. O Jefu! my lord the Prince!

P. Henry. How now, my lady the hostess, what fay'ft thou to me?

Hoft. Marry, my lord, there is a Nobleman of the Court at door would fpeak with you; he fays, he comes from your father.

P. Henry. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother. Fal. What manner of man is he?

Hoft. An old man.

Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I give him his answer?

P. Henry. Pry'thee, do, Jack.

Fal. Faith, and I'll fend him packing. [Exit. P. Henry. Now, Sirs, by'r lady, you fought fair; fo did you, Peto; fo did you, Bardolph; you are Lions too, you ran away upon inftinct; you will not touch the true Prince; no. Fie!

Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I faw others run.

P. Henry. Tell me now in earneft; how came FalStaff's fword fo hackt?

Peto. Why, he hackt it with his dagger, and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would

There is a Nobleman- give him a much as will make him a royal man] I believe here is a kind of jeft intended. He that had received a noble was, in cant language, called a nobleman: in

this fenfe the Prince catches the word, and bids the landlady give him as much as will make him a royal man, that is, a real or royal, and fend him away.

make

make you believe it was done in fight, and perfuaded us to do the like.

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our nofes with fpear grafs, to make them bleed; and then beslubber our garments with it, and fwear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not these seven years before, I blush'd to hear his monstrous devices.

P. Henry. O villain, thou ftolleft a cup of fack eighteen years ago, and wert 3 taken with the manner, and ever fince thou haft blufh'd extempore. Thou hadft+ fire and fword on thy fide, and yet thou ranneft away; what inftinct hadft thou for it?

Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations?

P. Henry. I do,

Bard. What think you they portend?

P. Henry. Hot livers, and cold purses.
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken,
P. Henry. No, if rightly taken, halter.

SCENE XI.

Re-enter Falstaff.

6

Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my fweet creature of bombaft? How long is't ago, Jack, fince thou faw'ft thy own knee?

Fal. My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an Eagle's talon in the wafte; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring. A plague on fighing and grief, it blows up a man like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad; here was Sir John Braby from your Father; you must go to the Court in the morning That fame mad fellow of the north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and fwore the devil his true Liegeman upon the cross of a Welshhook what a plague call you him

Poins. O, Glendower.

Fal. Owen, Owen; the fame; and his fon in law Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Dowglas, that runs a horfeback hill perpendicular.

up a

P. Henry. He that rides at high speed, and with a 7 piftol kills a fparrow flying.

Fal. You have hit it.

P. Henry. So did he never the Sparrow.

Fal. Well; that rafcal has good metle in him, he will not run.

P. Henry. Why, what a rafcal art thou then, to praife him fo for running?

Fal. A horfeback, ye cuckow! but afoot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Henry. Yes, Jack, upon inftinct.

Fal. I grant ye, upon inftinct: well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue caps more. Worcester is ftoln away by night. Thy father's beard is

7 Shakespeare never has any care to preferve the manners of the time. Pifols were not known in the age of Henry. Pistols were, I believe, about our authour's time, eminently ufed by

the Seats. Sir Henry Wotton fomewhere makes mention of a Scoti pistol.

Blue-caps.] A name of ridicule given to the Scots from their blue bonnets.

turn'd

turn'd white with the news. 9 You may buy land now as cheap as ftinking mackerel.

P. Henry. Then 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffetting hold, we fhall buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundred.

Fal. By the mafs, lad, thou fay'st true; it is like, we fhall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, art not thou horribly afeard, thou being heir apparent? Could the world pick thee out three fuch enemies again as that fiend Dowglas, that fpirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it?

P. Henry. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack fome of thy inftinct.

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to morrow, when thou com'ft to thy father; if thou do love me, practife an answer.

P. Henry. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I content. This Chair fhall be my State, this Dagger my Scepter, and this Cushion my Crown. P. Henry. Thy ftate is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden fcepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich Crown for a pitiful bald crown.

Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now fhalt thou be moved-Give me a cup of Sack to make mine eyes look red, that it may be

9 You may buy land, &c.] In former times the profperity of the nation was known by the value of land as now by the price of flocks. Before Henry the feventh made it fafe to ferve the king regnant, it was the practice at every revolution for the conqueror to confifcate the eftates of thofe that oppofed, and perhaps of thofe who did not affiit him.

Thofe, therefore, that forefaw a change of government, and thought their eftates in danger, were defirous to fell them in hafte for fomething that might be carried away.

This answer might, I think, have better been omitted. It contains only a repetition of Falfiaff's mock-royalty.

M 3

thought

thought I have wept; for I must speak in paffion, and I will do it in King Cambyfes? vein.

P. Henry. Well, here is my leg.

Fal. And here is my fpeechStand afide, Nobi lity

Hoft. This is excellent fport, i'faith.

Fal. Weep not, fweet Queen, for trickling tears are

vain.

Hoft. O the father! how he holds his countenance? Fal. For God's fake, lords, convey my triftful Queen, For tears do ftop the flood-gates of her eyes.

Hoft. O rare, he doth it as like one of thofe harlotry Players, as I ever fee.

Fal Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain+ Harry, I do not only marvel, where thou spendeft thy time, but also, how thou art accompany'd; for 5 though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the fafter it grows, yet youth, the more it is wafted, the fooner it wears. Thou art my fon; I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be fon to me, here lyeth the point; why, being fon to me, art thou fo pointed at? Shall the

A lamentable tragedy, mixed full of pleasant mirth, containing the life of Cambyfes King of Perfia. By Thomas Preten.

THEOBALD. I queftion if Shakespeare had ever feen this tragedy; for there is a remarkable peculiarity of meafure, which, when he profeffed to fpeak in King Cambyfes' ein, he would hardly have miffed, if he had known it.

3 My leg.] That is, My obeifance to my father.

4 Harry, I do not only marvel, &c.] A ridicule on the public