he had made two holes in the ale-wive's new petticoat, and peep'd through. P. Henry. Hath not the boy profited? Bard. Away, you whorfon upright rabbet, away! Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away! P. Henry. Inftruct us, boy. What dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dream'd, fhe was deliver'd of a firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream." P. Henry. A crowns-worth of good interpretation. -There it is, boy. [Gives him mony. Poins. O that this good bloffom could be kept from cankers! Well, there is fix pence to preferve thee. Bard. If you do not make him be hang'd among you, the Gallows fhall be wrong'd. P. Henry. And how doth thy mafter, Bardolph? Bard. Well, my good lord; he heard of your Grace's coming to town. There's a letter for you. P. Henry. Deliver'd with good refpect; doth the Martlemas, your Mafter? Bard. In bodily health, Sir. and how Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves not him; though that be fick, it dies not. P. Henry. 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 often as he hath occafion to name himself even like those that are kin to the King, for Shakespeare is here mistaken in his Mythology, and has confounded Althea's firebrand with Hecuba's. The firebrand of Althea was real; but Hecuba, when he was big with Paris, dreamed that he was delivered of a fire brand that confumed the king dom. 7 The Martlemas, your master,] That is, the autumn, or rather the latter fpring. The old fellow with juvenile paffions. 8 This wen.] The fwoln excrefcence of a man. they they never prick their finger but they fay, there is fome of the King's blood Spilt. How comes that? fays he that takes upon him not to conceive: 9 the answer is as ready as a borrower's cap; I am the King's poor coufin, Sir. P. Henry. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But, to the letter. Poins. Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, Greeting. Why, this is a certificate. 'P. Henry. Peace. Poins. I will imitate the honourable Romans in bre vity. Sure, he means brevity in breath; fhortwinded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he mifufes thy favours fo much, that he fwears, thou art to marry his Sifler Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may'st, and so farewel. Thine, by yea and no; which is as much as to fay, as thou ufft him. Jack Falstaff with my familiars: John with my brothers and fifiers: and Sir John with all Europe. Poins. My Lord, I will fteep this letter in fack, and make him eat it. 2 P. Henry. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your Sifter? Poins. May the wench have no worse fortune! But I never faid fo. P. Henry. Well, thus we play the fools with the 9 The Arfwer is as ready as a borrow'd Cap.] But how is a borrow'd Cap fo ready? Read, a Borrower's Cap: and then there is fome Humour in it. For a Man, that goes to borrow Mony, is of all Others the most complaifant: His Cap is always at hand. WARBURTON. [ Frince Henry.] All the editors, except Sir Thomas Hanmer, have left this letter in confufion, making the Prince read part, and Poins part. I have followed his correction. 2 That's to make him et TWENTY of his words] Why juft twenty, when the letter contain'd above eight times twenty? we fhould read PLENTY; and in this word the joke, as flender as it is, confifts. WARBURTON. time, and the fpirits of the wife fit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master here in London? Bard. Yes, my lord. ` P. Henry. Where fups he? doth the old Boar feed in the old frank? * Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eaft-cheap. 3 Page. Ephefians, my lord, of the old church. Page. None, my lord, but old Mrs. Quickly, and Mrs. Doll Tear-fheet. P. Henry. What Pagan may that be? Page. A proper gentlewoman, Sir, and a kinfwoman of my master's. P. Henry. Even fuch kin, as the parish heifers are to the town Bull. Shall we fteal upon them, Ned, at fupper? Poins. I am your fhadow, my lord, I'll follow you. P. Henry. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that I am yet come to town. for your filence. Bard. I have no tongue, Sir. Page. And for mine, Sir, I will govern it. There's P. Henry. Fare ye well: go. This Dol Tear-Sheet fhould be fome road. Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between St. Albans and London. P. Henry. How might we fee Falstaff beftow himself to night in his true colours, and not our felves be feen? Poins. Put on two leather jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at his table, as drawers. P. Henry. From a God to a Bull? a heavy defcenfion. It was Jove's cafe. From a Prince to a prentice? a low transformation; that shall be mine. For in every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Changes to Northumberland's Cafile. Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and Lady Percy. North. I Pr'ythee, 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. L. North. I have given over, I will speak no more; Do what you will; your wifdom be your guide. North. Alas, fweet wife, my Honour is at pawn, And, but my Going, nothing can redeem it. L. Percy. Oh, yet, for heav'n's fake, go not to these wars. The time was, father, that you broke your word, When you were more endear'd to it than now; When your own Percy, when my heart-dear Harry, Threw many a northward look, to fee his father 5 a heavy defcenfion.] Other reading have it declenfion. Mr. Pope chofe the firft. On which Mr. Theobald fays, But why not declenfion? are not the terms properly fynonimous? If fo, might not Mr. Pope fay in his turn, then why not defcenfion? But it is not fo. And defcenfion was preferred with judgment. For defcenfion fignifies a voluntary going down; declenfion, a natural and neceffary. Thus when we fpeak of the Sun, poetically, as a charioteer, we fhould fay his defcenfion: if phyfically, as a mere globe of light, his decl.nfion. WARBURTON. Defcenfion is the reading of the first edition. Mr. Upton proposes that we should read thus by tranfpofition. From a God to a Bull, a low transformation;-from a Prince to a Prentice, a heavy declenfion. This reading is elegant, and per baps right. And take thou this. O thoughts of men accurft! ACT II. SCENE I. A Street in LONDON. Enter Hoftefs, with two Officers, Phang and Snare. HOSTESS. R. Phang, have you enter'd the action? MR. Hoft. Where's your yeoman? is he a lufty yeoman? Will he ftand to it? Phang. Sirrah, where's Snare? Hoft. O Lord, ay, good Mr. Snare. Snare. Here, here. Phang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. Hoft. Ay, good Mr. Snare, I have enter'd him and all. Snare. It may chance coft fome of us our lives, for he will stab. Heft. Alas-the-day! take heed of him; he stab'd me in mine own house, and that most beaftly; he cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out. He will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Phang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thruft. Hoft. No, nor I neither. I'll be at your elbow. VOL. IV. S Phang. |