Note return to page 1 1See note under the Personæ Dramatis of the First Part of this play. Steevens.

Note return to page 2 2Enter Rumour,] This speech of Rumour is not inelegant or unpoetical, but it is wholly useless, since we are told nothing which the first scene does not clearly and naturally discover. The only end of such prologues is to inform the audience of some facts previous to the action, of which they can have no knowledge from the persons of the drama. Johnson.

Note return to page 3 3&lblank; Rumour, painted full of tongues.] This the author probable drew from Holinshed's Description of a Pageant, exhibited in the court of Henry VIII. with uncommon cost and magnificence: “Then entered a person called Report, apparelled in crimson sattin, full of toongs, or chronicles.” Vol. iii. p. 805. This however might be the common way of representing this personage in masques, which were frequent in his own times. T. Warton. Stephen Hawes, in his Pastime of Pleasure, had long ago exhibited her (Rumour) in the same manner: “A goodly lady, envyroned about “With tongues of fire &lblank;.” And so had Sir Thomas More, in one of his Pageants: “Fame I am called, merveyle you nothing “Thoughe with tonges I am compassed all rounde.” Not to mention her elaborate portrait by Chaucer, in The Booke of Fame; and by John Higgins, one of the assistants in The Mirror for Magistrates, in his Legend of King Albanacte. Farmer. In a masque presented on St. Stephen's night, 1614, by Thomas Campion, Rumour comes on in a skin-coat full of winged togues. Rumour is likewise a character in Sir Clyomon, Knight of the Golden Shield, &c. 1599. So also, in The whole magnificent Entertainment given to King James, and the Queen his Wife, &c. &c. 15th March, 1603, by Thomas Decker, 4to. 1604: “Directly under her in a cart by herselfe, Fame stood upright: a woman in a watchet roabe, thickly set with open eyes and tongues, a payre of large golden winges at her backe, a trumpet in her hand, a mantle of sundry cullours traversing her body: all these ensignes displaying but the propertie of her swiftnesse and aptnesse to disperse Rumoure.” Steevens. “&lblank; painted full of tongues.” This direction, which is only to be found in the first edition in quarto of 1600, explains a passage in what follows, otherwise obscure. Pope.

Note return to page 4 4&lblank; the drooping west,] A passage in Macbeth will best explain the force of this epithet: “Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, “And night's black agents to their preys do rouse.” Malone.

Note return to page 5 5Rumour is a pipe &lblank;] Here the poet imagines himself describing Rumour, and forgets that Rumour is the speaker. Johnson. Surely this is a mistake. Rumour is giving her own description, but says of herself: “&lblank; what need I thus “My well known body to anatomize “Among my household?” And then proceeds to tell why she was come. Boswell.

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

Note return to page 7 7And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,] The old copies read—“worm-eaten hole.” Malone. Northumberland had retired and fortified himself in his castle, a place of strength in those times, though the building might be impaired by its antiquity; and, therefore, I believe our poet wrote: “And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone.” Theobald. Theobald is certainly right. So, in The Wars of Cyrus, &c. 1594: “Besieg'd his fortress with his men at arms, “Where only I and that Libanio stay'd “By whom I live. For when the hold was lost,” &c. Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “She is hard by with twenty thousand men, “And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.” Steevens.

Note return to page 8 8&lblank; some stratagem:] Some stratagem means here some great, important, or dreadful event. So, in The Third Part of King Henry VI, the father who had killed his son says: “O pity, God! this miserable age! “What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly! “This mortal quarrel daily doth beget!” M. Mason.

Note return to page 9 9&lblank; forspent with speed,] To forspend is to waste, to exhaust. So, in Sir A. Gorges' translation of Lucan, b. vii.: “&lblank; crabbed sires forspent with age.” Steevens.

Note return to page 10 1&lblank; armed heels &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1600. The folio, 1623, reads—“able heels;” the modern editors, without authority —“agile heels.” Steevens.

Note return to page 11 2&lblank; poor jade &lblank;] Poor jade is used, not in contempt, but in compassion. Poor jade means the horse wearied with his journey. Jade, however, seems anciently to have signified what we now call a hackney; a beast employed in drudgery, opposed to a horse kept for show, or to be rid by its master. So, in a comedy called A Knack to know a Knave, 1594: “Besides, I'll give you the keeping of a dozen jades, “And now and then meat for you and your horse.” This is said by a farmer to a courtier. Steevens. Shakspeare, however, (as Mr. Steevens has observed,) certainly does not use the word as a term of contempt; for King Richard the Second gives this appellation to his favourite horse Roan Barbary, on which Henry the Fourth rode at his coronation: “That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand.” Malone.

Note return to page 12 3&lblank; rowel-head;] I think that I have observed in old prints the rowel of those times to have been only a single spike. Johnson. Dr. Johnson had either forgotten the precise meaning of the word rowel, or has made choice of inaccurate language in applying it to the single spiked spur, which he had seen in old prints. The former signifies the moveable spiked wheel at the end of a spur, such as was actually used in the time of Henry the Fourth, and long before the other was laid aside. Shakspeare certainly meant the spur of his own time. Douce.

Note return to page 13 4He seem'd in running to devour the way,] So, in the book of Job, chap. xxxix: “He swalloweth the ground in fierceness and rage.” The same expression occurs in Ben Jonson's Sejanus: “But with that speed and heat of appetite, “With which they greedily devour the way “To some great sports.” Steevens. So Ariel, to describe his alacrity in obeying Prospero's commands: “I drink the air before me.” M. Mason. So, in one of the Roman poets (I forget which): &lblank; cursu consumere campum. Blackstone. The line quoted by Sir William Blackstone is in Nemesian: &lblank; latumque fuga consumere campum. Malone.

Note return to page 14 5Of Hotspur, coldspur?] Hotspur seems to have been a very common term for a man of vehemence and precipitation. Stanyhurst, who translated four books of Virgil, in 1584, renders the following line: Ne victoris heri tetigit captiva cubile. “To couch not mounting of mayster vanquisher hoatspur.” Steevens.

Note return to page 15 6&lblank; silken point &lblank;] A point is a string tagged, or lace. Johnson.

Note return to page 16 7&lblank; some hilding fellow,] For hilderling, i. e. base, degenerate. Pope. Hilderling, Degener; vox adhuc agro Devon. familiaris. Spelman. Reed.

Note return to page 17 8&lblank; like to a title-leaf,] It may not be amiss to observe, that, in the time of our poet, the title-page to an elegy, as well as every intermediate leaf, was totally black. I have several in my possession, written by Chapman, the translator of Homer, and ornamented in this manner. Steevens.

Note return to page 18 *Folio, when.

Note return to page 19 9&lblank; a witness'd usurpation.] i. e. an attestation of its ravage. Steevens.

Note return to page 20 1&lblank; so woe-begone,] This word was common enough amongst the old Scottish and English poets, as G. Douglas, Chaucer, Lord Buckhurst, Fairfax; and signifies, far gone in woe. Warburton. So, in The Spanish Tragedy: “Awake, revenge, or we are wo-begone!” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “So woe-begone, so inly charg'd with woe.” Again, in A Looking Glass for London and England, 1598: “Fair Alvida, look not so woe-begone.” Dr. Bentley is said to have thought this passage corrupt, and therefore (with a greater degree of gravity than my readers will probably express) proposed the following emendation: “So dead, so dull in look, Ucalegon, “Drew Priam's curtain,” &c. The name of Ucalegon is found in the third book of the Iliad, and the second of the Æneid. Steevens.

Note return to page 21 2Your spirit &lblank;] The impression upon your mind, by which you conceive the death of your son. Johnson.

Note return to page 22 3Yet, for all this, say not, &c.] The contradiction, in the first part of this speech, might be imputed to the distraction of Northumberland's mind; but the calmness of the reflection, contained in the last lines, seems not much to countenance such a supposition. I will venture to distribute this passage in a manner which will, I hope, seem more commodious; but do not wish the reader to forget, that the most commodious is not always the true reading: “Bard. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. “North. I see a strange confession in thine eye, “Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin, “To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so: “The tongue offends not, that reports his death; “And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead; “Not he, which says the dead is not alive. “Mor. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news “Hath but a losing office; and his tongue “Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, “Remember'd knolling a departing friend.” Here is a natural interposition of Bardolph at the beginning, who is not pleased to hear his news confuted, and a proper preparation of Morton for the tale which he is unwilling to tell. Johnson.

Note return to page 23 4&lblank; hold'st it fear, or sin,] Fear, for danger. Warburton.

Note return to page 24 5&lblank; If he be slain, say so:] The words say so are in the first folio, but not in the quarto: they are necessary to the verse, but the sense proceeds as well without them. Johnson.

Note return to page 25 *Quartos, tolling.

Note return to page 26 6Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departing friend.] So, in our author's 71st Sonnet: “&lblank; you shall hear the surly sullen bell “Give warning to the world that I am fled.” This significant epithet has been adopted by Milton: “I hear the far-off curfew sound, “Over some wide water'd shore “Swinging slow with sullen roar.” Departing, I believe, is here used for departed. Malone. I cannot concur in this supposition. The bell, anciently, was rung before expiration, and thence was called the passing bell, i. e. the bell that solicited prayers for the soul passing into another world. Steevens. I am inclined to think that this bell might have been originally used to drive away demons who were watching to take possession of the soul of the deceased. In the cuts to some of the old service books which contain the Vigiliæ mortuorum, several devils are waiting for this purpose in the chamber of a dying man, to whom the priest is administering extreme unction. Douce.

Note return to page 27 7&lblank; faint quittance,] Quittance is return. By “faint quittance” is meant a ‘faint return of blows.’ So, in King Henry V.: “We shall forget the office of our hand, “Sooner than quittance of desert and merit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 28 8For from his metal was his party steel'd; Which once in him abated,] Abated is not here put for the general idea of diminished, nor for the notion of blunted, as applied to a single edge. Abated means reduced to a lower temper, or, as the workmen call it, let down. Johnson.

Note return to page 29 9'Gan vail his stomach,] Began to fall his courage, to let his spirits sink under his fortune. Johnson. From avaller, Fr. to cast down, or to let fall down. Malone. This phrase has already appeared in The Taming of the Shrew, vol. v. p. 521: “Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot; “And place your hands below your husbands' foot.” Reed. Thus, to vail the bonnet is to pull it off. So, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “And make the king vail bonnet to us both.” To vail a staff, is to let it fall in token of respect. Thus, in the same play: “And for the ancient custom of vail-staff, “Keep it still; claim thou privilege from me: “If any ask a reason, why? or how? “Say, English Edward vail'd his staff to you.” See vol. ix. p. 178, n. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 30 1Having been well, that would have made me sick,] i. e. that would, had I been well, have made me sick. Malone.

Note return to page 31 2&lblank; buckle &lblank;] Bend; yield to pressure. Johnson.

Note return to page 32 3&lblank; even so my limbs, Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with grief, Are thrice themselves:] As Northumberland is here comparing himself to a person, who, though his joints are weakened by a bodily disorder, derives strength from the distemper of the mind, I formerly proposed to read—“Weakened with age,” or “Weakened with pain.” When a word is repeated, without propriety, in the same or two succeeding lines, there is great reason to suspect some corruption. Thus, in this scene, in the first folio, we have “able heels,” instead of “armed heels,” in consequence of the word able having occurred in the preceding line. So, in Hamlet: “Thy news shall be the news,” &c. instead of “Thy news shall be the fruit.” Again, in Macbeth, instead of “Whom we, to gain our place,” &c. we find— “Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace.” In this conjecture I had once some confidence; but it is much diminished by the subsequent note, and by my having lately observed that Shakspeare elsewhere uses grief for bodily pain. Falstaff, in King Henry IV. Part I. vol. xvi. p. 387, speaks of “the grief of a wound.” Grief, in the latter part of this line, is used in its present sense, for sorrow; in the former part, for bodily pain. Malone. Grief, in ancient language, signifies bodily pain, as well as sorrow. So, in A Treatise of Sundrie Diseases, &c. by T. T. 1591: “&lblank; he being at that time griped sore, and having grief in his lower bellie.” Dolor ventris is, by our old writers, frequently translated “grief of the guts.” I perceive no need of alteration. Steevens.

Note return to page 33 4&lblank; nice &lblank;] i. e. trifling. So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; it is not meet “That every nice offence should bear his comments.” Steevens.

Note return to page 34 5The ragged'st hour &lblank;] Mr. Theobald and the subsequent editors read—The rugged'st. But change is unnecessary, the expression in the text being used more than once by our author. In As You Like It, Amiens says, his voice is ragged; and rag is employed as a term of reproach in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and in Timon of Athens. See also the Epistle prefixed to Spenser's Shepherd's Calender, 1579: “&lblank; as thinking them fittest for the rustical rudeness of shepheards, either for that their rough sound would make his rimes more ragged, and rustical,” &c. The modern editors of Spenser might here substitute the word rugged with just as much propriety as it has been substituted in the present passage, or in that in As You Like It: “My voice is rugged.” See vol. vi. p. 396, n. 7. Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,— “Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name.” Again, in our poet's eighth Sonnet: “Then let not Winter's ragged hand deface “In thee thy summer.” Again, in the play before us: “A ragged and fore-stall'd remission.” Malone.

Note return to page 35 6And darkness be the burier of the dead!] The conclusion of this noble speech is extremely striking. There is no need to suppose it exactly philosophical; darkness, in poetry, may be absence of eyes, as well as privation of light. Yet we may remark, that by an ancient opinion it has been held, that if the human race, for whom the world was made, were extirpated, the whole system of sublunary nature would cease. Johnson. A passage resembling this speech, but feeble in comparison, is found in The Double Marriage of Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; That we might fall, “And in our ruins swallow up this kingdom, “Nay the whole world, and make a second chaos.” Boswell.

Note return to page 36 7This strained passion &lblank;] This line, in the quarto, where alone it is found, is given to Umfrevile, who, as Mr. Steevens has observed, is spoken of in this very scene as absent. It was on this ground probably rejected by the player-editors. It is now, on the suggestion of Mr. Steevens, attributed to Travers, who is present, and yet (as that gentleman has remarked) “is made to say nothing on this interesting occasion.” Malone.

Note return to page 37 8You cast the event of war, &c.] The fourteen lines, from hence to Bardolph's next speech, are not to be found in the first editions, till that in the folio of 1623. A very great number of other lines in this play were inserted after the first edition in like manner, but of such spirit and mastery generally, that the insertions are plainly by Shakspeare himself. Pope. To this note I have nothing to add, but that the editor speaks of more editions than I believe him to have seen, there having been but one edition yet discovered by me that precedes the first folio. Johnson. Dr. Johnson was perhaps not altogether correct. See the Preliminary Remarks. Boswell.

Note return to page 38 9&lblank; in the dole of blows &lblank;] The dole of blows is the distribution of blows. Dole originally signified the portion of alms (consisting either of meat or money) that was given away at the door of a nobleman. Steevens. See vol. xvi. p. 248, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 39 1You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, More likely to fall in, than to get o'er:] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “As full of peril and adventurous spirit, “As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud, “On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.” Malone.

Note return to page 40 2You were advis'd, his flesh was capable &lblank;] i. e. you knew. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “How shall I doat on her with more advice &lblank;.” i. e. on further knowledge. Malone. Thus also, Thomas Twyne, the continuator of Phaer's translation of Virgil, 1584, for haud inscius, has advis'd: “He spake: and straight the sword advisde into his throat receives.” Steevens. It is still used in mercantile correspondence. Talbot.

Note return to page 41 3We all, that are engaged to this loss,] We have a similar phraseology in the preceding play: “Hath a more worthy interest to the state, “Than thou the shadow of succession.” Malone.

Note return to page 42 *Quartos, dare.

Note return to page 43 4The gentle, &c.] These one-and-twenty lines were added since the first edition. Johnson. This and the following twenty lines are not found in the quarto, 1600, either from some inadvertence of the transcriber or compositor, or from the printer not having been able to procure a perfect copy. They first appeared in the folio, 1623; but it is manifest that they were written at the same time with the rest of the play, Northumberland's answer referring to them. Malone.

Note return to page 44 5Tells them, he doth bestride a bleeding land,] That is, stand over his country to defend her as the lies bleeding on the ground. So Falstaff before says to the Prince, “Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; it is an office of friendship.” Johnson.

Note return to page 45 6And more, and less,] More and less mean greater and less. So, in Macbeth: “Both more and less have given him the revolt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 46 7&lblank; what says the doctor to my water?] The method of investigating diseases by the inspection of urine only, was once so much the fashion, that Linacre, the founder of the College of Physicians, formed a statute to restrain apothecaries from carrying the water of their patients to a doctor, and afterwards giving medicines, in consequence of the opinions they received concerning it. This statute was, soon after, followed by another, which forbade the doctors themselves to pronounce on any disorder from such an uncertain diagnostic. John Day, the author of a comedy called Law Tricks, or Who would have thought it? 1608, describes an apothecary thus: “&lblank; his house is set round with patients twice or thrice a day, and because they'll be sure not to want drink, every one brings his own water in an urinal with him.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady: “I'll make her cry so much, that the physician, “If she fall sick upon it, shall want urine “To find the cause by.” It will scarcely be believed hereafter, that in the years 1775 and 1776, a German, who had been a servant in a public riding-school, (from which he was discharged for insufficiency,) revived this exploded practice of water-casting. After he had amply increased the bills of mortality, and been publicly hung up to the ridicule of those who had too much sense to consult him, as a monument of the folly of his patients, he retired with a princely fortune, and perhaps is now indulging a hearty laugh at the expence of English credulity. Steevens. The time is not yet come, when this is to be thought incredible. The same impudent quackery is carried on at this day. Boswell.

Note return to page 47 8&lblank; to gird at me:] i. e. to gibe. So, in Lyly's Mother Bombie, 1594: “We maids are mad wenches; we gird them, and flout them,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 48 9&lblank; mandrake,] Mandrake is a root supposed to have the shape of a man; it is now counterfeited with the root of briony. Johnson.

Note return to page 49 1I was never manned with an agate till now:] That is, I never before had an agate for my man. Johnson. Alluding to the little figures cut in agates, and other hard stones, for seals; and therefore he says, “I will set you neither in gold nor silver.” The Oxford editor alters it to aglet, a tag to the points then in use (a word, indeed, which our author uses to express the same thought): but aglets, though they were sometimes of gold or silver, were never set in those metals. Warburton. It appears from a passage in Beaumont and Fletcher's Coxcomb, that it was usual for justices of peace either to wear an agate in a ring, or as an appendage to their gold chain: “&lblank; Thou wilt spit as formally, and show thy agate and hatched chain, as well as the best of them.” The same allusion is employed on the same occasion in The Isle of Gulls, 1606: “Grace, you Agate! hast not forgot that yet?” The virtues of the agate were anciently supposed to protect the wearer from any misfortune. So, in Greene's Mamillia, 1593: “&lblank; the man that hath the stone agathes about him, is surely defenced against adversity.” Steevens. I believe an agate is used merely to express any thing remarkably little, without any allusion to the figure cut upon it. So, in Much Ado About Nothing, vol. vii. p. 74, n. 3: “If low, an agate very vilely cut.” Malone.

Note return to page 50 *Quartos, in-set.

Note return to page 51 2&lblank; the juvenal,] This term, which has already occurred in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, and Love's Labour's Lost, is used in many places by Chaucer, and always signifies a young man. Steevens.

Note return to page 52 3&lblank; he may keep it still as a face-royal,] That is, a face exempt from the touch of vulgar hands. So, a stag-royal is not to be hunted, a mine-royal is not to be dug. Johnson. Old copies—at a face royal. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone. Perhaps this quibbling allusion is to the English real, rial, or royal. The poet seems to mean that a barber can no more earn sixpence by his face-royal, than by the face stamped on the coin called a royal; the one requiring as little shaving as the other. Steevens. If nothing be taken out of a royal, it will remain a royal as it was. This appears to me to be Falstaff's conceit. A royal was a piece of coin of the value of ten snillings. I cannot approve either of Johnson's explanation, or of that of Steevens. M. Mason.

Note return to page 53 4&lblank; Dumbleton &lblank;] The folio has—Dombledon; the quarto— Dommelton. This name seems to have been a made one, and designed to afford some apparent meaning. The author might have written—Double-done, (or, as Mr. M. Mason observes, Double-down,) from his making the same charge twice in his books, or charging twice as much for a commodity as it is worth. I have lately, however, observed that Dumbleton is the name of a town in Glocestershire. The reading of the folio may therefore be the true one. Steevens. [Subnote: The following communication was transmitted to me by Messrs Longman and Co. I have not the honour of knowing the gentleman who wrote it, but beg leave to return him my thanks for his courtesy. Boswell. Tewkesbury, April 5th, 1821. Sir, Observing an inaccuracy in the notes to the last edition of Shakspeare, in 21 vols. I thought it might be acceptable to you to be enabled to set the matter right in the new edition. Mr. Steevens is in error, where he says that Dumbleton, Act I. Scene II. of the second part of King Henry the Fourth, is the name of a town in Glocestershire. A small village, about seven miles from Tewkesbury, bears that name; but it is, I think, very improbable that Shakspeare could have alluded to this place as furnishing a title for Falstaff's tailor. At the period when this play was written, the manor of Dumbleton was held by the Abbey of Abingdon, having been given to it by King Athelstan in 931, and was vested in that house at the dissolution, when King Henry the Eighth sold it to Thomas Lord Audley and Sir Thomas Pope; it afterwards came into the family of the Cockses of Cleeve, Glocestershire, (descended from the Cockses, of Cocks-Hall, Kent,) from whom the Right Honourable Lord Somers, the present proprietor, inherits it. If any part of the above information is of the least use to you, it is much at your service; if not, I hope you will excuse the trouble I give you, in forwarding this to you through the hands of my booksellers, Messrs Longman, Hurst, and Co. I am, Sir, Your most obedient Servant, James Bennett. To the Editor of Shakspeare's Plays, &c.] The reading of the quarto (the original copy) appears to be only a mis-spelling of Dumbleton. Malone.

Note return to page 54 5Let him be damned like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter!] An allusion to the fate of the rich man, who had fared sumptuously every day, when he requested a drop of water to cool his tongue, being tormented with the flames. Henley.

Note return to page 55 *Quartos, a rascall.

Note return to page 56 6&lblank; to bear &lblank; in hand,] Is, to keep in expectation. Johnson. So, in Macbeth:? “&lblank; How you were borne in hand, how cross'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 57 7&lblank; if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up,] That is, if a man by taking up goods is in their debt. To be thorough seems to be the same with the present phrase,—to be in with a tradesman. Johnson. So, in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “I will take up, and bring myself into credit.” So again, in Northward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “They will take up, I warrant you, where they may be trusted.” Again in the same piece: “Sattin gowns must be taken up.” Again, in Love Restored, one of Ben Jonson's masques:—“A pretty fine speech was taken up o' the poet too, which if he never be paid for now, 'tis no matter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 58 8&lblank; the horn of abundance,] So, in Pasquil's Night-Cap, 1612, p. 43: “But chiefly citizens, upon whose crowne “Fortune her blessings most did tumble downe; “And in whose eares (as all the world doth know) “The horne of great aboundance still doth blow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 59 9&lblank; the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him.] This joke seems evidently to have been taken from that of Plautus: “Quò ambulas tu, qui Vulcanum in cornu conclusum geris?” Amph. Act I. Sc. I. and much improved. We need not doubt that a joke was here intended by Plautus; for the proverbial term of horns, for cuckoldom, is very ancient, as appears by Artemidorus, who says: &grP;&grr;&gro;&gre;&gri;&grp;&gre;&gric;&grn; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwc; &grosa;&grt;&gri; &grhr; &grg;&gru;&grn;&grha; &grs;&gro;&gru; &grp;&gro;&grr;&grn;&gre;&grua;&grs;&gre;&gri;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grt;&grog; &grl;&gre;&grg;&gro;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grn;, &grk;&grea;&grr;&gra;&grt;&gra; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwc; &grp;&gro;&gri;&grha;&grs;&gre;&gri;, &grk;&gra;&gri; &grosa;&gru;&grt;&grw;&grst; &gras;&grp;&grea;&grb;&grh;. &GROsa;&grn;&gre;&gri;&grr;&gro;&gri; lib. ii. cap. 12. And he copied from those before him. Warburton. The same thought occurs in The Two Maids of Moreclacke, 1609: “&lblank; your wrongs “Shine through the horn, as candles in the eve, “To light out others.” Steevens.

Note return to page 60 1I bought him in Paul's,] At that time the resort of idle people, cheats, and knights of the post. Warburton. So, in Fearful and lamentable Effects of Two dangerous Comets, &c. no date; by Nashe, in ridicule of Gabriel Harvey: “Paule's church is in wonderfull perill thys yeare without the help of our conscionable brethren, for that day it hath not eyther broker, maisterless serving-man, or pennilesse companion, in the middle of it, the usurers of London have sworne to bestow a newe steeple upon it.” In an old Collection of Proverbs, I find the following: “Who goes to Westminster for a wife, to St. Paul's for a man, and to Smithfield for a horse, may meet with a whore, a knave, and a jade.” See also Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, edit. 1632, p. 631. In a pamphlet by Dr. Lodge, called Wit's Miserie, and the World's Madnesse, 1596, the devil is described thus: “In Powls hee walketh like a gallant courtier, where if he meet some rich chuffes worth the gulling, at every word he speaketh, he maketh a mouse an elephant, and telleth them of wonders, done in Spaine by his ancestors,” &c. &c. I should not have troubled the reader with this quotation, but that it in some measure familiarizes the character of Pistol, which (from other passages in the same pamphlet) appears to have been no uncommon one in the time of Shakspeare. Dr. Lodge concludes his description thus: “His courage is boasting, his learning ignorance, his ability weakness, and his end beggary.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; get thee a gray cloak and hat, “And walk in Paul's among thy cashier'd mates, “As melancholy as the best.” I learn from a passage in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher and a She Coneycatcher, 1592, that St. Paul's was a privileged place, so that no debtor could be arrested within its precincts. Steevens. In The Choice of Change, 1598, 4to. it is said, “a man must not make choyce of three things in three places. Of a wife in Westminster; of a servant in Paule's; of a horse in Smithfield; lest he chuse a queane, a knave, or a jade.” See also Moryson's Itinerary, Part III. p. 53, 1617. Reed. “It was the fashion of those times,” [the times of King James I.] says Osborne, in his Memoirs of that monarch, “and did so continue till these, [the interregnum,] for the principal gentry, lords, courtiers, and men of all professions, not merely mechanicks, to meet in St. Paul's church by eleven, and walk in the middle isle till twelve, and after dinner from three to six; during which time some discoursed of business, others of news. Now, in regard of the universal commerce there happened little that did not first or last arrive here.” Malone. Before the introduction of newspapers, the pillars of this church seem to have answered the same purposes as the columns of those daily publications. The following passage is from a volume of Harleian Manuscripts filled with scraps of letters and other concerns of Mrs. Jane Shelley (daughter of John Lynge, Esq. of Sutton in Herefordshire), who died in 1600. The writer, who appears to have been one of her servants, addressing his sister, complains of the strictness of his lady, and determines to leave her service: “It may be you will say I wer better to here of a new before I loose the ould servisse; my answer is, I ca&nbar;ot loose much by the bargain; for yf I take but the basest course, and sett my bill in Paules, in one or two dayes I cannot want a servisse.” Harl. MSS. 2050. Blakeway.

Note return to page 61 2&lblank; Lord Chief Justice,] This judge was Sir Wm. Gascoigne, Chief Justice of the King's Bench. He died December 17, 1413, and was buried in Harwood church, in Yorkshire. His effigy, in judicial robes, is on his monument. Steevens. His portrait, copied from the monument, may be found in The Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xi. p. 516. Malone. There is a much finer portrait of Sir Wm. Gascoigne, in Gough's Sepulchral Monuments, vol. ii. Blakeway.

Note return to page 62 3&lblank; hunt-counter,] That is, blunderer. He does not, I think, allude to any relation between the judge's servant and the counter-prison. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation may be countenanced by the following passage in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub: “&lblank; Do you mean to make a hare “Of me, to hunt counter thus, and make these doubles, “And you mean no such thing as you send about?” Again, in Hamlet: “O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs.” It should not, however, be concealed, that Randle Holme, in his Academy of Armory and Blazon, book iii. ch. 3, says: “Hunt counter, when hounds hunt it by the heel.” Steevens. Hunt counter means, base tyke, or worthless dog. There can be no reason why Falstaff should call the attendant a blunderer, but he seems very anxious to prove him a rascal. After all, it is not impossible the word may be found to signify a catchpole or bum-bailiff. He was probably the Judge's tipstaff. Ritson. Perhaps the epithet hunt-counter is applied to the officer, in reference to his having reverted to Falstaff's salvo. Henley. I think it much more probable that Falstaff means to allude to the counter-prison. Sir T. Overbury, in his character of A Serjeant's Yeoman, 1616, (in modern language, a bailiff's follower,) calls him “a counter-rat.” Malone.

Note return to page 63 *Folio omits, an't please your lordship.

Note return to page 64 †Folio omits, kind of.

Note return to page 65 4Fal. Very well, my lord, very well:] In the quarto edition, printed in 1609, this speech stands thus: “Old. Very well, my lord, very well:—” I had not observed this, when I wrote my note to The First Part of Henry IV. concerning the tradition of Falstaff's character having been first called Oldcastle. This almost amounts to a self-evident proof of the thing being so: and that the play, being printed from the stage manuscript, Oldcastle had been all along altered into Falstaff, except in this single place by an oversight; of which the printers not being aware, continued these initial traces of the original name. Theobald. I am unconvinced by Mr. Theobald's remark. Old. might have been the beginning of some actor's name. Thus we have Kempe and Cowley, instead of Dogberry and Verges, in the 4to. edit. of Much Ado About Nothing, 1600. Names utterly unconnected with the Personæ Dramatis of Shakspeare, are sometimes introduced as entering on the stage. Thus, in The Second Part of King Henry IV. edit. 1600:—“Enter th' Archbishop, Thomas Mowbray, (Earle Marshall,) the Lord Hastings, Faulconbridge, and Bardolphe.” Sig. B 4.—Again: “Enter the Prince, Poynes, Sir John Russell, with others.” Sig. C 3. —Again, in King Henry V. 1600: “Enter Burbon, Constable, Orleance, Gebon.” Sig. D 2. Old might have been inserted by a mistake of the same kind; or indeed through the laziness of compositors, who occasionally permit the letters that form such names as frequently occur, to remain together, when the rest of the page is distributed. Thus it will sometimes happen that one name is substituted for another. This observation will be well understood by those who have been engaged in long attendance on a printing-house; and those to whom my remark appears obscure, need not to lament their ignorance, as this kind of knowledge is usually purchased at the expence of much time, patience, and disappointment. In 1778, when the foregoing observations first appeared, they had been abundantly provoked. Justice, however, obliges me to subjoin, that no other part of the same censure can equitably fall on the printing-office or compositors engaged in our present republication. Steevens. I entirely agree with Mr. Steevens in thinking that Mr. Theobald's remark is of no weight. Having already discussed the subject very fully, it is here only necessary to refer the reader to vol. xvi. p. 410, et seq. in which I think I have shewn that there is no proof whatsoever that Falstaff ever was called Oldcastle in these plays. The letters prefixed to this speech crept into the first quarto copy, I have no doubt, merely from Oldcastle being behind the scenes, the familiar theatrical appellation of Falstaff, who was his stage-successor. All the actors, copyists, &c. were undoubtedly well acquainted with the former character, and probably used the two names indiscriminately.—Mr. Steevens's suggestion that Old. might have been the beginning of some actor's name does not appear to me probable; because in the list of “the names of the principal actors in all these plays” prefixed to the first folio, there is no actor whose name begin with this syllable; and we may be sure that the part of Falstaff was performed by a principal actor. Malone. Principal actors, as at present, might have been often changing from one play-house to another; and the names of such of them as had quitted the company of Hemings and Condell, might therefore have been purposely omitted, when the list prefixed to the folio 1623 was drawn up. Steevens.

Note return to page 66 5&lblank; he my dog.] I do not understand this joke. Dogs lead the blind, but why does a dog lead the fat? Johnson. If the fellow's great belly prevented him from seeing his way, he would want a dog as well as a blind man. Farmer. And though he had no absolute occasion for him, Shakspeare would still have supplied him with one. He seems to have been very little solicitous that his comparisons should answer completely on both sides. It was enough for him that men were sometimes led by dogs. Malone. The allusion was probably to some well-known character of the time. Ben Jonson, in his Discoveries, has an anecdote of a notorious thief of the day, who was remarkable for his great belly. A little more information respecting this person might perhaps identify him with the character here alluded to. Talbot.

Note return to page 67 6A wassel candle, &c.] A wassel candle is a large candle lighted up at a feast. There is a poor quibble upon the word wax, which signifies increase as well as the matter of the honey-comb. Johnson. The same quibble has already occurred in Love's Labour's Lost, Act V. Sc. II.: “That was the way to make his godhead wax.” Steevens.

Note return to page 68 7You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel.] Thus the quarto, 1600. Mr. Pope reads with the folio, 1623,—“evil angel.” Steevens. What a precious collator has Mr. Pope approved himself in this passage! Besides, if this were the true reading, Falstaff could not have made the witty and humorous evasion he has done in his reply. I have restored the reading of the oldest quarto. The Lord Chief Justice calls Falstaff the Prince's ill angel or genius: which Falstaff turns off by saying, an ill angel (meaning the coin called an angel) is light; but, surely, it cannot be said that he wants weight: ergo—the inference is obvious. Now money may be called ill, or bad; but it is never called evil, with regard to its being under weight. This Mr. Pope will facetiously call restoring lost puns: but if the author wrote a pun, and it happens to be lost in an editor's indolence, I shall, in spite of his grimace, venture at bringing it back to light. Theobald. “As light as a clipt angel,” is a comparison frequently used in the old comedies. So, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; The law speaks profit, does it not?— “Faith, some bad angels haunt us now and then.” Steevens.

Note return to page 69 8&lblank; I cannot go, I cannot tell:] I cannot be taken in a reckoning; I cannot pass current. Johnson. Mr. Gifford, in a note on Jonson's Every Man in his Humour, vol. i. p. 125, objects to this explanation. “I cannot tell (he observes) means, I cannot tell what to think of it, and nothing more.” The phrase, with that signification, was certainly common; but, as it will also bear the sense which Dr. Johnson has assigned to it, his interpretation appears to me to suit the context better. Let the reader judge. Boswell.

Note return to page 70 9&lblank; in these coster-monger times,] In these times when the prevalence of trade has produced that meanness that rates the merit of every thing by money. Johnson. A coster-monger is a costard-monger, a dealer in apples called by that name, because they are shaped like a costard, i. e. man's head. See vol. iv. p. 327, n. 6; and p. 330, n. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 71 1&lblank; Pregnancy &lblank;] Pregnancy is readiness. So, in Hamlet: “How pregnant his replies are?” Steevens.

Note return to page 72 2&lblank; your wit single?] We call a man single-witted, who attains but one species of knowledge. This sense I know not how to apply to Falstaff, and rather think that the Chief Justice hints at a calamity always incident to a grey-haired wit, whose misfortune is, that his merriment is unfashionable. His allusions are to forgotten facts; his illustrations are drawn from notions obscured by time; his wit is therefore single, such as none has any part in but himself. Johnson. I believe all that Shakspeare meant was, that he had more fat than wit; that though his body was bloated by intemperance to twice its original size, yet his wit was not increased in proportion to it. In ancient language, however, single often means small, as in the instance of beer; the strong and weak being denominated double and single beer. So, in The Captain, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “sufficient single beer, as cold as chrystal.” Macbeth also speaks of his “single state of man.” See vol. xi. p. 49, n. 6. Steevens. Johnson's explanation of this passage is not conceived with his usual judgment.—It does not appear that Falstaff's merriment was antiquated or unfashionable; for if that had been the case, the young men would not have liked it so well, nor would that circumstance have been perceived by the Chief Justice, who was older than himself. But though Falstaff had such a fund of wit and humour, it was not unnatural that a grave judge, whose thoughts were constantly employed about the serious business of life, should consider such an improvident, dissipated old man, as single-witted or half-witted, as we should now term it. So, in the next Act, the Chief Justice calls him, a great fool; and even his friend Harry, after his reformation, bids him not to answer “with a fool-born jest,” and adds, “that white hairs ill become a fool and jester.” I think, however, that this speech of the Chief Justice is somewhat in Falstaff's own style, which verifies what he says of himself, “that all the world loved to gird at him, and that he was not only witty in himself, but the cause that wit is in other men.” M. Mason. I think Mr. Steevens's interpretation the true one. Single however, (as an anonymous writer has observed,) may mean, feeble or weak. So, in Fletcher's Queen of Corinth, Act III. Sc. I.: “All men believe it, when they hear him speak, “He utters such single matter, in so infantly a voice.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “O single-soal'd jest, solely singular for the singleness,” i. e. the tenuity. In our author's time, as the same writer observes, small beer was called single beer, and that of a stronger quality, double beer. Malone.

Note return to page 73 3&lblank; antiquity?] To use the word antiquity for old age, is not peculiar to Shakspeare. So, in Two Tragedies in One, &c. 1601: “For false illusion of the magistrates “With borrow'd shapes of false antiquity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 74 *Folio omits about three of the clock in the afternoon.

Note return to page 75 4&lblank; marry, not in ashes, and sackcloth; but in new silk, and old sack.] So, Sir John Harrington, of a reformed brother. Epigrams, 1. 3, 17: “Sackcloth and cinders they advise to use; “Sack, cloves and sugar thou would'st have to chuse.” Bowle.

Note return to page 76 5&lblank; would I might never spit white again.] i. e. May I never have my stomach inflamed again with liquor; for, to spit white is the consequence of inward heat. So, in Mother Bombie, a comedy, 1594: “They have sod their livers in sack these forty years; that makes them spit white broth as they do.” Again, in The Virgin Martyr, by Massinger: “&lblank; I could not have spit white for want of drink.” Steevens.

Note return to page 77 6But it was always, &c.] This speech, in the folio, concludes at—“I cannot last ever.” All the rest is restored from the quarto. A clear proof of the superior value of those editions, when compared with the publication of the players. Steevens.

Note return to page 78 7&lblank; you are too impatient to bear crosses.] I believe a quibble was here intended. Falstaff had just asked his lordship to lend him a thousand pound, and he tells him in return that he is not to be entrusted with money. A cross is a coin so called, because stamped with a cross. So, in As You Like It: “If I should bear you, I should bear no cross.” Steevens.

Note return to page 79 8&lblank; fillip me with a three-man beetle.] A beetle wielded by three men. Pope. A diversion is common with boys in Warwickshire and the adjoining counties, on finding a toad, to lay a board about two or three feet long, at right angles, over a stick about two or three inches diameter, as per sketch. Then placing the toad at A, the other end is struck by a bat or large stick, which throws the creature forty or fifty feet perpendicular from the earth, and its return in general kills it. This is called Filliping the Toad.—A three-man beetle is an implement used for driving piles; it is made of a log of wood about eighteen or twenty inches diameter, and fourteen or fifteen inches thick, with one short and two long handles, as per sketch. A man at each of the long handles manages the fall of the beetle, and a third man, by the short handle, assists in raising it to strike the blow. Such an implement was, without doubt, very suitable for filliping so corpulent a being as Falstaff. With this happy illustration, and the drawings annexed, I was favoured by Mr. Johnson, the architect. Steevens. So, in A World of Wonders, A Mass of Murthers, A Covie of Cosenages, &c. 1595, sign. F. “&lblank; whilst Arthur Hall was weighing the plate, Bullock goes into the kitchen and fetcheth a heavie washing betle, wherewith he comming behinde Hall, strake him,” &c. Reed.

Note return to page 80 9&lblank; prevent my curses.] To prevent means, in this place, to anticipate. So, in the 119th Psalm: “Mine eyes prevent the night watches.” Steevens.

Note return to page 81 1&lblank; to commodity.] i. e. profit, self-interest. See vol. xv. p. 258, n. 8. Steevens.

Note return to page 82 2&lblank; step too far &lblank;] The four following lines were added in the second edition. Johnson.

Note return to page 83 3Much smaller &lblank;] i. e. which turned out to be much smaller. Musgrave.

Note return to page 84 4Yes, in this present quality of war; &c.] These first twenty lines were first inserted in the folio of 1623. The first clause of this passage is evidently corrupted. All the folio editions and Mr. Rowe's concur in the same reading, which Mr. Pope altered thus: “Yes, if this present quality of war “Impede the instant act.” This has been silently followed by Mr. Theobald, Sir Thomas Hanmer, and Dr. Warburton; but the corruption is certainly deeper, for, in the present reading, Bardolph makes the inconvenience of hope to be that it may cause delay, when, indeed, the whole tenor of his argument is to recommend delay to the rest that are too forward. I know not what to propose, and am afraid that something is omitted, and that the injury is irremediable. Yet, perhaps, the alteration requisite is no more than this: “Yes, in this present quality of war, “Indeed of instant action.” “It never, (says Hastings,) did harm to lay down likelihoods of hope.” “Yes, (says Bardolph,) it has done harm in this present quality of war, in a state of things such as is now before us, of war, indeed of instant action.” This is obscure, but Mr. Pope's reading is still less reasonable. Johnson. I have adopted Dr. Johnson's emendation, though I think we might read: “&lblank; if this present quality of war “Impel the instant action.” Hastings says, it never yet did hurt to lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. Yes, says Bardolph, it has in every case like ours, where an army inferior in number, and waiting for supplies, has, without that reinforcement, impelled, or hastily brought on, an immediate action. Steevens. If we may be allowed to read—instanc'd, the text may mean— Yes, it has done harm in every case like ours; indeed, it did harm in young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury, which the Archbishop of York has just instanced or given as an example. Tollet. This passage is allowed on all hands to be corrupt, but a slight alteration will, I apprehend, restore the true reading: “Yes, if this present quality of war, “Induc'd the instant action.” Henley. Mr. M. Mason has proposed the same reading. Steevens. “&lblank; in this present quality of war;” This and the following nineteen lines appeared first in the folio. That copy reads: “Yes, if this present.” &c. I believe the old reading is the true one, and that a line is lost; but have adopted Dr. Johnson's emendation, because it makes sense. The punctuation now introduced appears to me preferable to that of the old edition, in which there is a colon after the word action. Bardolph, I think, means to say, “Indeed the present action (our cause being now on foot, war being actually levied,) lives so in hope,” &c. otherwise the speaker is made to say, in general, that all causes once on foot afford no hopes that may securely be relied on; which is certainly not true. Malone.

Note return to page 85 5&lblank; at least,] Perhaps we should read—at last. Steevens.

Note return to page 86 6Consent upon a sure foundation;] i. e. agree. So, in As You Like It, vol. vi. p. 437: “For all your writers do consent that ipse is he.” Again, ibid. p. 489: “&lblank; consent with both, that we may enjoy each other.” Steevens.

Note return to page 87 8&lblank; one power against the French,] During this rebellion of Northumberland and the Archbishop, a French army of twelve thousand men landed at Milford Haven, in Wales, for the aid of Owen Glendower. See Holinshed, p. 531. Steevens.

Note return to page 88 9If he should do so,] This passage is read, in the first edition, thus: “If he should do so, French and Welsh he leaves his back unarmed, they baying him at the heels, never fear that.” These lines, which were evidently printed from an interlined copy not understood, are properly regulated in the next edition, and are here only mentioned to show what errors may be suspected to remain. Johnson. I believe the editor of the folio did not correct the quarto rightly; in which the only error probably was [as Mr. Capell has observed] the omission of the word to: “To French and Welsh he leaves his back unarm'd, “They baying him at the heels; never fear that.” Malone.

Note return to page 89 1The duke of Lancaster, &c.] This is an anachronism. Prince John of Lancaster was not created a duke till the second year of the reign of his brother, King Henry V. Malone. This mistake is pointed out by Mr. Steevens in another place. It is not, however, true, that “King Henry IV. was himself the last person that ever bore the title of Duke of Lancaster,” as Prince Henry actually enjoyed it at this very time, and had done so from the first year of his father's reign, when it was conferred upon him in full parliament. Rot. Parl. 111, 428, 532. Shakspeare was misled by Stowe, who, speaking of Henry's first parliament, says, “&lblank; then the King rose, and made his eldest son Prince of Wales, &c. his second sonne was there made Duke of Lancaster.” Annales, 1631, p. 323. He should therefore seem to have consulted this author between the times of finishing the last play, and beginning the present. Ritson.

Note return to page 90 2Let us on; &c.] This excellent speech of York was one of the passages added by Shakspeare after his first edition. Pope. This speech first appeared in the folio. Malone.

Note return to page 91 3O thou fond many!] Many or meyny, from the French mesnie, a multitude. Douce.

Note return to page 92 5Where is your yeoman?] A bailiff's follower was, in our author's time, called a serjeant's yeoman. Malone.

Note return to page 93 6&lblank; an a' come but within my vice;] Vice or grasp; a metaphor taken from a smith's vice: there is another reading in the old edition, view, which I think not so good. Pope. Vice is the reading of the folio, view of the quarto. Steevens. The fist is vulgarly called the vice in the West of England. Henley.

Note return to page 94 7&lblank; lubbar's head &lblank;] This is, I suppose, a colloquial corruption of the Libbard's head. Johnson.

Note return to page 95 8A hundred mark is a long loan &lblank;] Old copy—long one. Steevens. A long one? a long what? It is almost needless to observe, how familiar it is with our poet to play the chimes upon words similar in sound, and differing in signification; and therefore I make no question but he wrote—“A hundred mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to bear:” i. e. a hundred mark is a good round sum for a poor widow to venture on trust. Theobald. The alteration on the suggestion of Theobald, has been very unnecessarily and improperly made. The hostess means to say that a hundred mark is a long mark, that is, score, reckoning, for her to bear. The use of mark in the singular number in familiar language, admits very well of this equivoque. Douce.

Note return to page 96 9&lblank; a poor lone woman &lblank;] A lone woman is an unmarried woman. So, in the title-page to A Collection of Records, &c. 1642: “That Queen Elizabeth being a lone woman, and having few friends, refusing to marry,” &c. Again, in Maurice Kyffin's translation of Terence's Andria, 1588: “Moreover this Glycerie is a lone woman;”—“tum hæc sola est mulier.” In The First Part of King Henry IV. Mrs. Quickly had a husband alive. She is now a widow. Steevens.

Note return to page 97 1&lblank; malmsey-nose &lblank;] That is, red nose, from the effect of malmsey wine. Johnson. In the old song of Sir Simon the King, the burthen of each stanza is this:   “Says old Sir Simon the king,   “Says old Sir Simon the king, “With his ale-dropt hose, “And his malmsey-nose,   “Sing hey ding, ding a ding.” Percy.

Note return to page 98 2&lblank; honey-suckle villain &lblank; honey-seed rogue!] The landlady's corruption of homicidal and homicide. Theobald.

Note return to page 99 3&lblank; a man-queller,] Wicliff, in his Translation of the New Testament, uses this word for carnifex. Mark, vi. 27: “Herod sent a man-queller, and commanded his head to be brought.” Steevens.

Note return to page 100 4Thou wo't, wo't thou? &c.] The first folio reads, I think less properly, “Thou wilt not? thou wilt not?” Johnson.

Note return to page 101 5Fal. Away, you scullion!] This speech is given to the Page in all the editions to the folio of 1664. It is more proper for Falstaff, but that the boy must not stand quite silent and useless on the stage. Johnson.

Note return to page 102 6&lblank; rampallian! &lblank; fustilarian!] The first of these terms of abuse may be derived from ramper, Fr. to be low in the world. The other from fustis, a club; i. e. a person whose weapon of defence is a cudgel, not being entitled to wear a sword. The following passage, however, in A New Trick to cheat the Devil, 1639, seems to point out another derivation of rampallian: “And bold rampallian like, swear and drink drunk.” It may therefore mean a ramping riotous strumpet. Thus, in Greene's Ghost haunting Coneycatchers: “Here was Wiley Beguily rightly acted, and an aged rampalion put beside her schoole-tricks.” Steevens. Fustilarian is, I believe, a made word, from fusty. Mr. Steevens's last explanation of rampallian appears the true one. Malone.

Note return to page 103 7&lblank; I'll tickle your catastrophe.] This expression occurs several times in The Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1608: “Bankes your ale is a Philistine; foxe zhart there fire i' th' tail ont; you are a rogue to charge us with mugs i' th' rereward. A plague o' this wind! O, it tickles our catastrophe.” Again: “&lblank; to seduce my blind customers; I'll tickle his catastrophe for this.” Steevens.

Note return to page 104 8&lblank; to ride the mare,] The Hostess had threatened to ride Falstaff like the Incubus or Night-Mare; but his allusion, (if it be not a wanton one,) is to the Gallows, which is ludicrously called the Timber, or two-legg'd Mare. So, in Like Will to Like, quoth the Devil to the Collier, 1587. The Vice is talking of Tyburn: “This piece of land whereto you inheritors are, “Is called the land of the two-legg'd Mare. “In this piece of ground there is a Mare indeed, “Which is the quickest Mare in England for speed.” Again: “I will help to bridle the two-legg'd Mare “And both you for to ride need not to spare.” Steevens.

Note return to page 105 9&lblank; a parcel-gilt goblet,] A “parcel-gilt goblet” is a goblet gilt only on such parts of it as are embossed. On the books of the Stationers' Company, among their plate 1560, is the following entry: “Item, nine spoynes of silver, whereof vii gylte and ii parcell-gylte.” The same records contain fifty instances to the same purpose: of these spoons the saint or other ornament on the handle was the only part gilt. Thus, in Ben Jonson's Alchemist: “&lblank; or changing “His parcel-gilt to massy gold.” Again, in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “I am little better than a parcel-gilt bawd.” Holinshed, describing the arrangement of Wolsey's plate, says: “&lblank; and in the council-chamber was all white, and parcel-gilt plate.” Steevens. Langham, describing a bride-cup, says it was “foormed of a sweet sucket barrel, a faire turn'd foot set too it, all seemly be-sylvered and parcel-gilt.” Again, in The XII Merry lestes of the Widdow Edyth: “A standyng cup with a cover parcell gilt.” Ritson. Parcel-gilt means what is now called by artists party-gilt; that is, where part of the work is gilt, and part left plain or ungilded. Malone.

Note return to page 106 1&lblank; Wheeson &lblank;] So the quarto. The folio corrects it— Whitsun; but the blunder is much in the Hostess's manner. So, Peesel, for Pistol, and many other words mistaken in the same way. Malone.

Note return to page 107 2&lblank; for liking his father to a singing man &lblank;] Such is the reading of the first edition; all the rest have—“for likening him to a singing man.” The original edition is right; the Prince might allow familiarities with himself, and yet very properly break the knight's head when he ridiculed his father. Johnson. Liking is the reading of the quarto 1600, and is better suited to Dame Quickly than likening, the word substituted instead of it, in the folio. Malone.

Note return to page 108 3&lblank; goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife,] A Keech is the fat of an ox rolled up by the butcher into a round lump. Steevens.

Note return to page 109 3&lblank; a mess of vinegar;] So, in Mucedorus: “I tell you all the messes are on the table already, “There wants not so much as a mess of mustard.” Again, in an ancient interlude published by Rastel; no title or date: “Ye mary sometyme in a messe of vergesse.” A mess seems to have been the common term for a small proportion of any thing belonging to the kitchen. Steevens. So the Scriptural term: “a mess of pottage.” Malone.

Note return to page 110 4&lblank; you have, &c.] In the first quarto it is read thus:—“You have, (as it appears to me,) practised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person.” Without this, the following exhortation of the Chief Justice is less proper. Johnson. In the folio the words—“and made her serve,” &c. were omitted. And in the subsequent speech, “the villainy you have done with her,” is improperly changed to “the villainy you have done her.” Malone.

Note return to page 111 5&lblank; this sneap &lblank;] A Yorkshire word for rebuke. Pope. Sneap signifies to check; as children easily sneaped; herbs and fruits sneaped with cold weather. See Ray's Collection. Again, in Brome's Antipodes, 1638: “Do you sneap me too, my lord?” Again: “No need to come hither to be sneap'd.” Again: “&lblank; even as now I was not, “When you sneap'd me, my lord.” The word is derived from snyb, Scotch. We still use snub in the same sense. Steevens. I can find no authority for this Scotch etymology. Boswell.

Note return to page 112 6&lblank; answer in the effect of your reputation,] That is, answer in a manner suitable to your character. Johnson.

Note return to page 113 7&lblank; I must be fain to pawn &lblank; my plate, &lblank; &lblank; Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking:] Mrs. Quickly is here in the same state as the Earl of Shrewsbury, who, not having been paid for the diet, &c. of Mary Queen of Scots, while she was in his custody, in 1580, writes as follows to Thomas Bawdewyn: “I wold have you bye me glasses to drink in: Send me word what olde plat yeldes the ounce, for I wyll not leve me a cuppe of sylvare to drink in, but I wyll see the next terme my creditors payde.” See Lodge's Illustrations of English History, vol. ii. p. 252. Steevens.

Note return to page 114 8&lblank; German hunting in water-work,] i. e. in water colours. Warburton. So, in Holinshed, p. 819: “The king for himself had a house of timber, &c. and for his other lodgings he had great and goodlie tents of blue waterwork garnished with yellow and white.” It appears also from the same Chronicle, p. 840, that these painted cloths were brought from Holland. The German hunting was therefore a subject very likely to be adopted by the artists of that country. Drayton, in his 4th Eclogue, speaks contemptuously of such hangings: “Nor painted rags then cover'd rotten walls.” Steevens. The German hunting is, I suppose, hunting the wild boar. Shakspeare, in another place, speaks of “a full-acorn'd boar, a German one.” Farmer.

Note return to page 115 9&lblank; these bed-hangings,] We should read dead-hangings, i. e. faded. Warburton. I think the present reading may well stand. He recommends painted canvas instead of tapestry, which he calls bed-hangings, in contempt, as fitter to make curtains than to hang walls. Johnson.

Note return to page 116 1&lblank; 'draw thy action:] Draw means here withdraw. M. Mason.

Note return to page 117 2To Bardolph.] In former editions the marginal direction is—To the Officers. Malone. I rather suspect that the words hook on, hook on, are addressed to Bardolph, and mean, go you with her, hang upon her, and keep her in the same humour. In this sense the expression is used in The Guardian, by Massinger: “Hook on; follow him, harpies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 118 3At Basingstoke,] The quarto reads at Billingsgate. The players set down the name of the place which was the most familiar to them. Steevens.

Note return to page 119 4&lblank; attached &lblank;] i. e. arrested. Talbot.

Note return to page 120 5&lblank; and God knows, &c.] This passage Mr. Pope restored from the first edition. I think it may as well be omitted. It is omitted in the first folio, and in all subsequent editions before Mr. Pope's, and was perhaps expunged by the author. The editors, unwilling to lose any thing of Shakspeare's, not only insert what he has added, but recall what he has rejected. Johnson. I have not met with positive evidence that Shakspeare rejected any passages whatever. Such proof may indeed be inferred from the quartos which were published in his life-time, and are declared (in their titles) to have been enlarged and corrected by his own hand. These I would follow, in preference to the folio, and should at all times be cautious of opposing its authority to that of the elder copies. Of the play in question, there is no quarto extant but that in 1600, and therefore we are unauthorized to assert that a single passage was omitted by consent of the poet himself. I do not think I have a right to expunge what Shakspeare should seem to have written, on the bare authority of the player-editors. I have therefore restored the passage in question to the text. Steevens. This and many other similar passages were undoubtedly struck out of the playhouse copies by the Master of the Revels. Malone.

Note return to page 121 5&lblank; that bawl out the ruins of thy linen,] I suspect we should read—“that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen;” i. e. his bastard children, wrapt up in his old shirts. The subsequent words confirm this emendation. The latter part of this speech, “And God knows,” &c. is omitted in the folio. Malone. “Out the ruins” is the same as “out of,” &c. Of this elliptical phraseology I have seen instances, though I omitted to note them. Steevens.

Note return to page 122 6&lblank; all ostentation of sorrow.] Ostentation is here not boastful show, but simply show. Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; one well studied in a sad ostent “To please his grandame.” Johnson.

Note return to page 123 7&lblank; proper fellow of my hands;] A tall or proper fellow of his hands, was a stout fighting man. Johnson. In this place, however, it means a good looking, well made, personable man. Poins might certainly have helped his being a fighting fellow. Ritson. A handsome fellow of my size; or of my inches, as we should now express it. M. Mason. Proper, it has been already observed, in our author's time, signified handsome. See vol. iv. p. 94, n. 3. “As tall a man of his hands” has already occurred in The Merry Wives of Windsor. See vol. viii. p. 47, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 124 8Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, &c.] Though all the editions give this speech to Poins, it seems evident, by the Page's immediate reply, that it must be placed to Bardolph: for Bardolph had called to the boy from an ale-house, and it is likely, made him half-drunk; and the boy being ashamed of it, it is natural for Bardolph, a bold unbred fellow, to banter him on his aukward bashfulness. Theobald.

Note return to page 125 9&lblank; through a red lattice,] i. e. from an ale-house window. See vol. viii. p. 77, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 126 1&lblank; Althea dreamed, &c.] Shakspeare is here mistaken in his mythology, and has confounded Althea's firebrand with Hecuba's. The firebrand of Althea was real: but Hecuba, when she was big with Paris, dreamed that she was delivered of a firebrand that consumed the kingdom. Johnson.

Note return to page 127 2A crown's worth of good interpretation.] A Pennyworth of good Interpretation, is, if I remember right, the title of some old tract. Malone.

Note return to page 128 3&lblank; the martlemas, your master?] That is, the autumn, or rather the latter spring. The old fellow with juvenile passions. Johnson. In The First Part of King Henry IV. the Prince calls Falstaff “the latter spring,—all hallown summer.” Malone. Martlemas is corrupted from Martinmas, the feast of St. Martin, the eleventh of November. The corruption is general in the old plays. So, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas.” Steevens. “The martlemas your master.” Martinmas, which in Shakspeare's time fell later in the month than it does now, was then the chief time of killing hogs: this is therefore only another of the innumerable variations of allusion to Falstaff's corpulence. Blakeway.

Note return to page 129 4&lblank; this wen &lblank;] This swoln excrescence of a man. Johnson.

Note return to page 130 5&lblank; the answer is as ready as a borrower's cap;] Old copy —a borrowed cap. Steevens. But how is a borrowed cap so ready? Read, a borrower's cap, and then there is some humour in it: for a man that goes to borrow money, is of all others the most complaisant; his cap is always at hand. Warburton. Dr. Warburton's emendation is countenanced by a passage in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; be not ceas'd “With slight denial; nor then silenc'd, when “Commend me to your master—and the cap “Plays in the right hand, thus: &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 131 6P. Hen.] All the editors, except Sir Thomas Hanmer, have left this letter in confusion, making the Prince read part, and Poins part. I have followed his correction. Johnson.

Note return to page 132 7I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity:] The old copy reads Romans, which Dr. Warburton very properly corrected, though he is wrong when he appropriates the character to M. Brutus, who affected great brevity of style. I suppose by the honourable Roman is intended Julius Cæsar, whose veni, vidi, vici, seems to be alluded to in the beginning of the letter. ‘I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee.’ The very words of Cæsar are afterwards quoted by Falstaff. Heath.

Note return to page 133 8That's to make him eat twenty of his words.] Why just twenty, when the letter contained above eight times twenty? We should read plenty; and in this word the joke, as slender as it is, consists. Warburton. It is not surely uncommon to put a certain number for an uncertain one. Thus, in The Tempest, Miranda talks of playing “for a score of kingdoms.” Busby, in King Richard II. observes, that “each substance of a grief has twenty shadows.” In Julius Cæsar, Cæsar says that the slave's hand “did burn like twenty torches.” In King Lear we meet with “twenty silly ducking observants,” and, “not a nose among twenty.” Robert Green, the pamphleteer, indeed, obliged an apparitor to eat his citation, wax and all. In the play of Sir John Oldcastle, the Summer is compelled to do the like: and says on the occasion, —“Ill eat my word.” Harpoole replies, “I meane you shall eat more than your own word, I'll make you eate all the words in the processe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 134 9&lblank; frank?] Frank is sty. Pope.

Note return to page 135 1Ephesians,] Ephesian was a term in the cant of these times, of which I know not the precise notion: it was, perhaps, a toper. So, the Host, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “It is thine host, thine Ephesian calls.” Johnson.

Note return to page 136 2&lblank; Doll Tear-sheet.] Shakspeare might have taken the hint for this name from the following passage in The Playe of Robyn Hoode, very proper to be played in Maye Games, bl. l. no date: “She is a trul of trust, to serve a frier at his lust, “A prycker, a prauncer, a terer of shetes,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 137 3What pagan may that be?] Pagan seems to have been a cant term, implying irregularity either of birth or manners. So, in The Captain, a comedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “Three little children, one of them was mine; “Upon my conscience the other two were pagans.” In The City Madam of Massinger it is used (as here) for a prostitute: “&lblank; in all these places “I've had my several Pagans billeted.” Steevens.

Note return to page 138 4Put on two leather jerkins,] This was a plot very unlikely to succeed where the Prince and the drawers were all known; but it produces merriment, which our author found more useful than probability. Johnson. Johnson forgets that all the family were in the secret, except Falstaff; and that the Prince and Poins were disguised. M. Mason. But how does this circumstance meet with Dr. Johnson's objection? The improbability arises from Falstaff's being perfectly well acquainted with all the waiters in the house; and however disguised the Prince and Poins might be, or whatever aid they might derive from the landlord and his servants, they could not in fact pass for the old attendants, with whose person, voice, and manner, Falstaff was well acquainted. Accordingly he discovers the Prince as soon as ever he speaks. However, Shakspeare's chief object was to gain an opportunity for Falstaff to abuse the Prince and Poins, while they remain at the back part of the stage in their disguises: a jeu de theatre which he practised in other plays, and which always gains applause. Malone.

Note return to page 139 5&lblank; a heavy descension!] Descension is the reading of the first edition. Mr. Upton proposes that we should read thus by transposition: ‘From a god to a bull? a low transformation!—from a prince to a prentice? a heavy declension!’ This reading is elegant, and perhaps right. Johnson. The folio reads—declension. Malone.

Note return to page 140 6Threw many a northward look, to see his father Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.] Mr. Theobald very elegantly conjectures that the poet wrote, “&lblank; but he did look in vain.” Statius, in the tenth Book of his Thebaid, has the same thought: &lblank; frustra de colle Lycæi Anxia prospectas, si quis per nubila longe Aut sonus, aut nostro sublatus ab agmine pulvis. Steevens.

Note return to page 141 7In the grey vault of heaven:] So, in one of our author's poems to his mistress: “And truly, not the morning sun of heaven “Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east.” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 142 8He had no legs, &c.] The twenty-two following lines are of those added by Shakspeare after his first edition. Pope. They were first printed in the folio, 1623. Malone.

Note return to page 143 9And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, Became the accents of the valiant;] Speaking thick is, speaking fast, crouding one word on another. So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; say, and speak thick, “Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing &lblank;.” “Became the accents of the valiant” is, “came to be affected by them,” a sense which (as Mr. M. Mason observes) is confirmed by the lines immediately succeeding: “For those that could speak low, and tardily, “Would turn their own perfection to abuse, “To seem like him &lblank;.” The opposition designed by the adverb tardily, also serves to support my explanation of the epithet thick. Steevens.

Note return to page 144 1He was the mark and glass, copy and book, That fashion'd others.] So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece, 1594: “For princess are the glass, the school, the book, “Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look.” Malone.

Note return to page 145 2Did seem defensible:] Defensible does not in this place mean capable of defence, but bearing strength, furnishing the means of defence; the passive for the active participle. Malone.

Note return to page 146 3To rain upon remembrance &lblank;] Alluding to the plant rosemary, so called, and used in funerals. Thus, in The Winter's Tale: “For you there's rosemary and rue, these keep “Seeming and savour all the winter long: “Grace and remembrance be to you both,” &c. For as rue was called herb of grace, from its being used in exorcisms; so rosemary was called remembrance, from its being a cephalic. Warburton.

Note return to page 147 4&lblank; Boar's Head Tavern, in Eastcheap.] Shakspeare (as I learn from my friend Mr. Petrie), has with propriety selected the Boar's Head in Eastcheap, for the scene of Prince Henry's merry meetings, as it was near his own residence: “A mansion called Cold-harbour (near All-hallows Church, Upper Thames Street, three minutes walk from the Boar's Head) was granted to Henry Prince of Wales, II Henry IV. (1410).” Rymer, vol. viii. p. 628, London edit. Boswell.

Note return to page 148 5&lblank; an apple-John.] So, in The Ball, by Chapman and Shirley, 1639: “&lblank; thy man, Apple-John, that looks “As he had been a sennight in the straw, “A ripening for the market.” This apple will keep two years, but becomes very wrinkled and shrivelled. It is called by the French,—Deux-ans. Thus, Cogan, in his Haven of Health, 1595: “The best apples that we have in England are pepins, deusants, costards, darlings, and such other.” Again, among instructions given in the year 1580 to some of our navigators, “for banketting on shipboard persons of credite,” we meet with “the apple John that dureth two yeares, to make shew of our fruits. See Hackluyt, vol. i. p. 441. Steevens. Falstaff has already said of himself, I am withered like an old apple-John. See vol. xvi. p. 336. Boswell.

Note return to page 149 5&lblank; Sneak's noise;] Sneak was a street minstrel, and therefore the drawer goes out to listen if he can hear him in the neighbourhood. Johnson. A noise of musicians anciently signified a concert or company of them. In the old play of Henry V. (not that of Shakspeare) there is this passage: “&lblank; there came the young prince, and two or three more of his companions, and called for wine good store, and then they sent for a noyse of musitians,” &c. Falstaff addresses them as a company in another scene of this play. So again, in Westward Hoe, by Deckar and Webster, 1607: “All the noise that went with him, poor fellows, have had their fiddle-cases pulled over their ears.” Again, in The Blind Beggar of Alexandria, a comedy, printed 1598, the Count says: “O that we had a noise of musicians, to play to this antick as we go.” Heywood, in his Iron Age, 1632, has taken two expressions from these plays of Henry IV. and put them into the mouth of Thersites addressing himself to Achilles: “Where's this great sword and buckler man of Greece, “We shall have him in one of Sneak's noise, “And come peaking into the tents of the Greeks, “With,—will you have any musick, gentlemen?” Among Ben Jonson's Leges Convivales is— Fidicen, nici accersitus, non venito. Steevens. A noise was so familiarly used for a concert, that it is employed as a ludicrous metaphor in the Chances, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “He's neer without a noise of syringes “In's pocket &lblank;.” Boswell.

Note return to page 150 6Dispatch, &c.] This period is from the first edition. Pope. These words, which are not in the folio, are in the quarto given to the second drawer. Mr. Pope rightly attributed them to the first. Malone.

Note return to page 151 7&lblank; here will be old utis:] Utis, an old word yet in use in some counties, signifying a merry festival, from the French huit, octo, ab A. S. Eahta, Octavæ festi alicujus.—Skinner. Pope. Skinner's explanation of utis (or utas) may be confirmed by the following passage from T. M.'s Life of Sir Thomas More: “&lblank; to-morrow is St. Thomas of Canterbury's eeve, and the utas of St. Peter &lblank;.” The eve of Thomas à Becket, according to the new style, happens on the 6th of July, and St. Peter's day on the 29th of June. Again, in A Contention between Liberality and Prodigality, a comedy, 1602: “Then if you please, with some roysting harmony, “Let us begin the utas of our iollitie.” Henley. In Warwickshire, as the Rev. Mr. Sharp informs me, utis is still used for what is called a row, a scene of noisy turbulence. Malone. Old, in this place, does not mean ancient, but was formerly a common augmentative in colloquial language. Old utis signifies festivity in a great degree. So, in Lingua, 1607: “&lblank; there's old moving among them.” Again, in Decker's comedy, called, If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it, 1612: “We shall have old breaking of necks then.” Again, in Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “I shall have old laughing.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “Here will be old filching, when the press comes out of Paul's.” Steevens. This expression has long existed in our language. We meet with it in Le Bone Florence. Ritson's Romances, vol. iii. p. 29: “With sharpe swyrdis foght they then “They had be two full doghty men,   “Gode-olde fyghtyng was there.” Boswell. See vol. v. p. 441, n. 4 Malone.

Note return to page 152 8&lblank; your pulsidge beats, &c.] One would almost regard this speech as a burlesque on the following passage in the interlude called The Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567. Infidelity says to Mary: “Let me fele your poulses, mistresse Mary, be you sicke? “By my troth in as good tempre as any woman can be; “Your vaines are as full of blood, lusty and quicke, “In better taking truly I did you never see.” Steevens.

Note return to page 153 9&lblank; a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood &lblank;] The same phraseology is seriously used by Arthur Hall, in his translation of the first Iliad, 4to. 1581: “&lblank; good Chrise with wine so red “The aulter throughly doth perfume &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 154 1When Arthur first in court &lblank;] The entire ballad is published in the first volume of Dr. Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry. Steevens. The words in the ballad are— “When Arthur first in court began, “And was approved king.” Malone.

Note return to page 155 2Sick of a calm:] I suppose she means to say of a qualm. Steevens.

Note return to page 156 3So is all her sect;] I know not why sect is printed in all the copies; I believe sex is meant. Johnson. Sect is, I believe, right. Falstaff may mean ‘all of her profession.’ In Mother Bombie, a comedy, 1594, the word is frequently used: “Sil. I am none of that sect. “Can. Thy loving sect is an ancient sect, and an honourable,” &c. Since the foregoing quotation was given, I have found sect so often printed for sex in the old plays, that I suppose these words were anciently synonymous. Thus, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1613: “Deceives our sect of fame and chastity.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Valentinian: “&lblank; Modesty was made “When she was first intended: when she blushes “It is the holiest thing to look upon, “The purest temple of her sect, that ever “Made nature a blest founder.” Again, in Whetstone's Arbour of Vertue, 1576: “Who, for that these barons so wrought a slaunder to her sect, “Their foolish, rash, and judgment false, she sharplie did detect.” Steevens. In Middleton's Mad World my Masters, 1608, (as Dr. Farmer has elsewhere observed,) a courtezan says, “it is the easiest art and cunning for our sect to counterfeit sick, that are always full of fits, when we are well.” I have therefore no doubt that sect was licentiously used by our author, and his contemporaries, for sex. Malone. I believe sect is here used in its usual sense, and not for sex. Falstaff means to say, that all courtezans, when their trade is at a stand, are apt to be sick. Douce.

Note return to page 157 4You make a fat rascals,] Falstaff alludes to a phrase of the forest. Lean deer are called rascal deer. He tells her she calls him wrong, being fat he cannot be a rascal. Johnson. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle: “The heavy hart, the blowing buck, the rascal, and the pricket.” Again, in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “What take you?—Deer.—You'll ne'er strike rascal?” Again, in Quarles's Virgin Widow, 1656: “&lblank; and have known a rascal from a fat deer.” “Rascall, (says Puttenham, p. 150,) is properly the hunting terme given to young deere, leane and out of season, and not to people.” Steevens. To grow fat and bloated is one of the consequences of the venereal disease; and to that Falstaff probably alludes. There are other allusions, in the following speeches, to the same disorder. M. Mason.

Note return to page 158 5Your brooches, pearls, and owches;] Brooches were chains of gold that women wore formerly about their necks. Owches were bosses of gold set with diamonds. Pope. I believe Falstaff gives these splendid names as we give that of carbuncle, to something very different from gems and ornaments: but the passage deserves not a laborious research. Johnson. Brooches were, literally, clasps, or buckles, ornamented with gems. See vol. xii. p. 382, n. 8, a note on Antony and Cleopatra. Mr. Pope has rightly interpreted owches in their original sense. So, in Nash's Lenten Stuff, &c. 1599: “&lblank; three scarfs, bracelets, chains, and ouches.” It appears likewise from a passage in the ancient satire called Cockle Lorelles Bote, printed by Wynkyn de Worde, that the makers of these ornaments were called owchers: “Owchers, skynners, and cutlers.” Dugdale, p. 234, in his Account of the Will of T. de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, in the time of Edward III. says: “His jewels be thus disposed: to his daughter Stafford, an ouche called the eagle, which the prince gave him; to his daughter Alice, his next best ouche.” “With brooches, rings, and owches,” is, however, a line in the ancient ballad of The Boy and the Mantle. See Percy's Reliques, &c. 4th edit. vol. iii. p. 341. Dr. Johnson's conjecture may be supported by a passage in The Widow's Tears, a comedy, by Chapman, 1612: “&lblank; As many aches in his bones, as there are ouches in his skin.” Again, in The Duke's Mistress, by Shirley, 1638, Valerio, speaking of a lady's nose, says: “It has a comeley length, and is well studded “With gems of price; the goldsmith would give money for't.” Steevens.

Note return to page 159 6&lblank; the charged chambers &lblank;] To understand this quibble, it is necessary to say, that a chamber signifies not only an apartment, but a piece of ordnance. So, in The Fleire, a comedy, 1610: “&lblank; he has taught my ladies to make fireworks; they can deal in chambers already, as well as all the gunners that make them fly off with a train at Lambeth, when the mayor and aldermen land at Westminster.” Again, in The Puritan, 1605: “&lblank; only your chambers are licensed to play upon you, and drabs enow to give fire to them.” A chamber is likewise that part in a mine where the powder is lodged. Steevens. Chambers are very small pieces of ordnance which are yet used in London on what are called rejoicing days, and were sometimes used in our author's theatre on particular occasions. See King Henry VIII. Act I. Sc. III. Malone.

Note return to page 160 *Folio omits this speech.

Note return to page 161 7&lblank; rheumatick &lblank;] She would say splenetick. Hanmer. I believe she means what she says. So, in Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour: “Cob. Why I have my rewme, and can be angry.” Again, in our author's King Henry V.: “He did in some sort handle women; but then he was rheumatick,” &c. Rheumatick, in the cant language of the times, signified capricious, homoursome. In this sense it appears to be used in many other old plays. Steevens. The word scorbutico (as an ingenious friend observes to me) is used in the same manner in Italian, to signify a peevish ill-tempered man. Malone. Dr. Farmer observes, that Sir Thomas Elyott, in his Castell of Helth, 1572, speaking of different complexions, has the following remark: “Where cold with moisture prevaileth, that body is called fleumatick.” Steevens.

Note return to page 162 8&lblank; as two dry toasts;] Which cannot meet but they grate one another. Johnson.

Note return to page 163 9&lblank; good-year!] Mrs. Quickly's blunder for goujere, i. e. morbus Gallicus. See vol. vii. p. 29, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 164 1&lblank; ancient Pistol &lblank;] Is the same as ensign Pistol. Falstaff was captain, Peto lieutenant, and Pistol ensign, or ancient. Johnson.

Note return to page 165 2&lblank; there comes no swaggerers here.] A swaggerer was a roaring, bullying, blustering, fighting fellow. So, in Greene's Tu Quoque, a comedy, by Cooke, 1614: “I will game with a gamster, drinke with a drunkard, be ciuill with a citizen, fight with a swaggerer, and drabb with a whoore-master. Ritson.

Note return to page 166 3Tilly-fally,] See vol. xi. p. 394, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 167 4&lblank; Master Tisick, the deputy &lblank; and master Dumb, our minister.] The names are ludicrously intended to denote that the deputy was pursy and short winded: the minister one of those who did not preach sermons of his own composition, but only read the homilies set forth by authority:—such clergymen being termed by the puritans, in a phrase borrowed from the prophet, dumb dogs: it was an opprobrious name which continued as late as the reign of Charles II. when the presbyterian ministers who were restored by the king, and did not dare to preach “to the times;” i. e. to introduce politicks into their sermons, were called dumb dogs that could not bark. Burnet's Own Times, v.i. p. 395. Blakeway.

Note return to page 168 5&lblank; a tame cheater,] Gamester and cheater were, in Shakspeare's age, synonymous terms. Ben Jonson has an epigram on Captain Hazard, the cheater. A tame cheater, however, as Mr. Whalley observes to me, appears to be a cant phrase. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Fair Maid of the Inn: “&lblank; and will be drawn into the net, “By this decoy-duck, this tame cheater.” Greene, in his Mihil Mumchance, has the following passage: “They call their art by a new-found name, as cheating, themselves cheators, and the dice cheters, borrowing the term from among our lawyers, with whom all such casuals as fall to the lord at the holding of his leets, as waifes, straies, and such like, be called chetes, and are accustomably said to be escheted to the lord's use.” So, likewise in Lord Coke's Charge at Norwich, 1607: “But if you will be content to let the escheator alone, and not looke into his actions, he will be contented by deceiving you to change his name, taking unto himselfe the two last syllables only, with the es left out, and so turn cheater.” Hence perhaps the derivation of the verb—to cheat, which I do not recollect to have met with among our most ancient writers. In The Bell-man of London, by T. Decker, 5th edit. 1640, the same derivation of the word is given: “Of all which lawes, the highest in place is the cheating law, or the art of winning money by false dyce. Those that practice this study call themselves cheaters, the dyce cheators, and the money which they purchase cheate; borrowing the terme from our common lawyers, with whom all such casuals as fall to the lord at the holding of his leetes, as waifes, straies, and such like, are said to be escheated to the lordes use, and are called cheates.” This account of the word is likewise given in A Manifest Detection of Dice-play, printed by Vele, in the reign of Henry VIII. Steevens.

Note return to page 169 5I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater:] The humour of this consists in the woman's mistaking the title of cheater, (which our ancestors gave to him whom we now, with better manners, call a gamester,) for that officer of the exchequer called an escheator, well known to the common people of that time; and named, either corruptly or satirically, a cheater. Warburton.

Note return to page 170 6&lblank; I'll drink no more &lblank; for no man's pleasure, I.] This should not be printed as a broken sentence. The duplication of the pronoun was very common: in The London Prodigal we have, “I scorn service, I.”—“I am an ass, I,” says the stage-keeper in the Induction to Bartholomew Fair: and Kendal thus translates a well-know epigram of Martial: “I love thee not, Sabidius,   “I cannot tell thee why: “I can saie naught bu this alone,   “I do not love thee, I.” In Kendall's Collection there are many translations from Claudian, Ausonius, the Anthologia, &c. Farmer. So, in King Richard III. Act III. Sc. II.: “I do not like these separate councils, I.” Steevens. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “I will not budge, for no man's pleasure, I.” Again, in King Edward II. by Marlow, 1598: “I am none of those common peasants, I.” The French still use this idiom:—“Je suis Parisien, moi.” Malone. So just before: “He's no swaggerer, hostess: a tame cheater, he,” Boswell.

Note return to page 171 7&lblank; filthy bung,] In the cant of thievery, to nip a bung was to cut a purse; and among an explanation of many of these terms in Martin Mark-all's Apologie to the Bel-man of London, 1610, it is said that “Bung is now used for a pocket, heretofore for a purse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 172 8&lblank; an you play the saucy cuttle with me.] It appears from Greene's Art of Coneycatching, that cuttle and cuttle-boung were the cant terms for the knife used by the sharpers of that age to cut the bottoms of purses, which were then worn hanging at the girdle. Or the allusion may be to the foul language thrown out by Pistol, which she means to compare with such filth as the cuttle-fish ejects. Steevens.

Note return to page 173 9&lblank; with two points &lblank;] As a mark of his commission. Johnson.

Note return to page 174 1&lblank; much!] Much was a common expression of disdain at that time, of the same sense with that more modern one, Marry come up. The Oxford editor, not apprehending this, alters it to march. Warburton. Dr. Warburton is right. Much! is used thus in Ben Jonson's Volpone: “&lblank; But you shall eat it. Much!” Again, in Every Man in his Humour: “Much wench! or much, son!” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “To charge me bring my grain unto the markets: “Ay, much! when I have neither barn nor garner.” Steevens.

Note return to page 175 2No more, Pistol; &c.] This is from the oldest edition of 1600. Pope.

Note return to page 176 3Captain, thou abominable damned cheater, &c.] Pistol's character seems to have been a common one on the stage in the time of Shakspeare. In A Woman's a Weathercock, by N. Field, 1612, there is a personage of the same stamp, who is thus described: “Thou unspeakable rascal, thou a soldier! “That with thy slops and cat-a-mountain face, “Thy blather chaps, and thy robustious words, “Fright'st the poor whore, and terribly dost exact “A weekly subsidy, twelve pence a piece, “Whereon thou livest; and on my conscience, “Thou snap'st besides with cheats and cut-purses.” Malone.

Note return to page 177 4He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried cakes.] That is, he lives on the refuse provisions of bawdy-houses and pastry-cooks' shops. Stewed prunes, when mouldy, were perhaps formerly sold at a cheap rate, as stale pies and cakes are at present. The allusion to stewed prunes, and all that is necessary to be known on that subject, has been already explained in the First Part of this historical play. Steevens.

Note return to page 178 5&lblank; as odious as the word occupy;] So Ben Jonson, in his Discoveries: “Many, out of their own obscene apprehensions, refuse proper and fit words; as, occupy, nature,” &c. Steevens. This word is used with different senses in the following jest, from Wits, Fits, and Fancies, 1614: “One threw stones at an yll-fauor'd old womans Owle, and the olde woman said: Faith (sir knaue) you are well occupy'd, to throw stones at my poore Owle, that doth you no harme. Yea marie (answered the wag) so would you be better occupy'd too (I wisse) if you were young againe, and had a better face.” Ritson. Occupant seems to have been formerly a term for a woman of the town, as occupier was for a wencher. So, in Marston's Satires, 1599: “&lblank;He with his occupant “Are cling'd so close, like dew-worms in the morne, “That he'll not stir.” Again, in a Song by Sir T. Overbury, 1616: “Here's water to quench maiden's fires, “Here's spirits for old occupiers.” Malone. Again, in Promos and Cassandra, bl. l. 1578: “Mistresse, you must shut up your shop, and leave your occupying.” This is said to a bawd. Henderson. Barnabe Rych, in his Roome for a Gentleman, 1609, complains of “a number of counterfeit souldiers that will be called captaines;” and says of them, “these be they that are a slander and disgrace to the Art Militari; for there is no greater incivility, no baser disorder, nor more shamefull misdemeanor, than is used by those counterfeit souldiers that do march under the title of captaines.” Boswell.

Note return to page 179 *Folio reads only, will make the word captain odious.

Note return to page 180 †Folio, where Erebus.

Note return to page 181 6I'll see her damned first;—to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also.] These words, I believe, were intended to allude to the following passage in an old play called the Battel of Alcazar, 1594, from which Pistol afterwards quotes a line (see p. 87, n. 6): “You dastards of the night and Erebus, “Fiends, fairies, hags, that fight in beds of steel, “Range through this army with your iron whips;— “Descend and take to thy tormenting hell “The mangled body of that traitor king.— “Then let the earth discover to his ghost “Such tortures as usurpers feel below.— “Damn'd let him be, damn'd and condemn'd to bear “All torments, tortures, pains and plagues of hell.” Malone.

Note return to page 182 7Hold hook and line,] These words are introduced in ridicule, by Ben Jonson, in The Case is Alter'd, 1609. Of absurd and fustian passages from many plays, in which Shakspeare had been a performer, I have always supposed no small part of Pistol's character to be composed: and the pieces themselves being now irretrievably lost, the humour of his allusion is not a little obscured. Let me add, however, that in the frontispiece to an ancient bl. l. ballad, entitled The Royal Recreation of Joviall Anglers, one of the figures has the following couplet proceeding from his mouth: “Hold hooke and line, “Then all is mine.” Steevens. In Tusser's Husbandry, bl. l. 1580, it is said: “At noone if it bloweth, at night if it shine, “Out trudgeth Hew Makeshift, with hook and with line,” Henderson.

Note return to page 183 *Folio, fates.

Note return to page 184 8Down! down, dogs! down faitors] A burlesque on a play already quoted; The Battle of Alcazar: “Ye proud malicious dogs of Italy, “Strike on, strike down, this body to the earth.” Malone. Faitours, says Minsheu's Dictionary, is a corruption of the French word faiseurs, i. e. factores, doers; and it is used in the statute 7 Rich. II. c. 5, for evil doers, or rather for idle livers; from the French, faitard. which in Cotgrave's Dictionary signifies slothful, idle, &c. Tollet. “&lblank; down faitors!” i. e. traitors, rascals. So, Spenser: “Into new woes, unweeting, was I cast “By this false faitour.” The word often occurs in The Chester Mysteries. Steevens.

Note return to page 185 9&lblank; Have we not Hiren here?] In an old comedy, 1608, called Law Tricks; or, Who Would Have Thought It? the same quotation is likewise introduced, and on a similar occasion. The Prince Polymetes says: “What ominous news can Polymetes daunt? “Have we not Hiren here?” Again, in Massinger's Old Law: “Clown. No! dancing for me, we have Siren here. “Cook. Syren! 'twas Hiren the fair Greek, man.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; therefore whilst we have Hiren here, speak my little dish-washers.” Again, in Love's Mistress, a masque, by T. Heywood, 1636: “&lblank; say she is a foul beast in your eyes, yet she is my Hyren.” Mr. Tollet observes, that in Adams's Spiritual Navigator, &c. 1615, there is the following passage: “There be sirens in the sea of the world. Sirens? Hirens as they are now called. What a number of these sirens, Hirens, cockatrices, courteghians,—in plain English, harlots,—swimme amongst us?”—Pistol may therefore mean,—Have we not a strumpet here? and why am I thus used by her? Steevens. From The Merie Conceited Jests of George Peele, Gentleman, sometime Student in Oxford, quarto 1657, it appears that Peele was the author of a play called The Turkish Mahomet, and Hyren the Fair Greek, which is now lost. One of these jests, or rather stories, is entitled, How George read a Play-book to a Gentleman. “There was a gentleman (says the tale) whom God had endued with good living, to maintain his small wit,—one that took great delight to have the first hearing of any work that George had done, himself being a writer.—This self-conceited brock had George invited to half a score sheets of paper; whose Christianly pen had writ Finis to the famous play of The Turkish Mahomet and Hyren the fair Greek;—in Italian called a curtezan; in Spaine, a margarite; in French, un curtain; in English, among the barbarous, a whore; among the gentles, their usual associates, a punk.—This fantastick, whose brain was made of nought but cork and spunge, came to the cold lodging of Monsieur Peel.—George bids him welcome;—told him he would gladly have his opinion of his book.—He willingly, condescended, and George begins to read, and between every scene he would make pauses, and demand his opinion how he liked the carriage of it,” &c. “Have we not Hiren here?” was, without doubt, a quotation from this play of Peele's, and, from the explanation of the word Hiren above given, is put with peculiar propriety on the present occasion into the mouth of Pistol. In Eastward Hoe, a comedy, by Jonson, Chapman, and Marston, 1605, Quicksilver comes in drunk, and repeats this, and many other verses, from dramatick performances of that time: “Holla, ye pamper'd jades of Asia!” [Tamburlaine.] “Hast thou not Hiren here?” [Probably The Turkish Mahomet.] “Who cries on murther? lady, was it you?” [A Parody on The Spanish Tragedy.] All these lines are printed as quotations, in Italicks. In John Day's Law Tricks, quoted by Mr. Steevens, in the preceding note, the Prince Polymetes, when he says, “Have we not Hiren here?” alludes to a lady then present, whom he imagines to be a harlot. Malone. The notes on this expression have left it a matter of doubt whether Pistol is speaking of his sword or of a woman; but the fact is, after all, that the word Hiren was purposely designed by the author to be ambiguous, though used by Pistol with reference only to his sword. When the Hostess replies, “There's none such here, do you think I would deny her?” she evidently conceives that he is calling for some wench. Pistol, not regarding her blunder, continues to handle his sword, and in his next speech reads the motto on it—si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me contenta. It is to be observed that most of the ancient swords had inscriptions on them, and there is no doubt that if diligent search were made, the one before us, in a less corrupted state, would be found. Douce. Mr. Douce adds, that he is possessed of an old French rapier, on which these lines are engraved: “Si Fortune me tourmente, l'esperance me contente.” A representation of it is given in his Illustrations, vol. i. p. 453. Boswell.

Note return to page 186 1&lblank; hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, &c.] These lines are in part a quotation out of an old absurd fustian play, entitled, Tamburlaine's Conquests; or, The Scythian Shepherds, 1590, [by C. Marlow.] Theobald. These lines are addressed by Tamburlaine to the captive princes who draw his chariot: “Holla, you pamper'd jades of Asia, “What! can you draw but twenty miles a day?” The same passage is burlesqued by Beaumont and Fletcher, in The Coxcomb. Young, however, has borrowed the idea for the use of his Busiris: “Have we not seen him shake his silver reins “O'er harness'd monarchs, to his chariot yok'd? I was surprised to find a simile, much and justly celebrated by the admirers of Spenser's Fairy Queen, inserted almost word for word in the second part of this tragedy. The earliest edition of those books of The Fairy Queen, in one of which it is to be found, was published in 1590, and Tamburlaine had been represented in or before the year 1588, as appears from the preface to Perimedes the Blacksmith, by Robert Greene. The first copy, however, that I have met with, is in 1590, and the next in 1593. In the year 1590 both parts of it were entered on the books of the Stationers' Company: “Like to an almond-tree ymounted high “On top of green Selinis, all alone, “With blossoms brave bedecked daintily, “Whose tender locks do tremble every one “At every little breath that under heaven is blown.” Spenser. “Like to an almond-tree ymounted high “Upon the lofty and celestial mount “Of ever-green Selinis, quaintly deck'd “With bloom more bright than Erycina's brows; “Whose tender blossoms tremble every one “At every little breath from heaven is blown.” Tamburlaine. Steevens. Mr. Todd has, with great probability, maintained that Spenser was the original. See his edition of Spenser, vol. iii. p. 22. Boswell.

Note return to page 187 2&lblank; Cannibals,] Cannibal is used by a blunder for Hannibal. This was afterwards copied by Congreve's Bluff and Wittol. Bluff is a character apparently taken from this of ancient Pistol. Johnson. Perhaps the character of a bully on the English stage might have been originally taken from Pistol; but Congreve seems to have copied his Nol Bluff more immediately from Jonson's Captain Bobadil. Steevens.

Note return to page 188 3&lblank; and let the welkin roar.] Part of the words of an old ballad entitled, What the Father Gathereth with the Rake, the Son doth Scatter with the Forke: “Let the welkin roare, “Ile never give ore,” &c. Again, in another ancient song, called The Man in the Moon drinks Claret: “Drink wine till the welkin roares.” Steevens. So, in Eastward Hoe, 1605: “&lblank; turn swaggering gallant, and let the welkin roar, and Erebus also.” Malone.

Note return to page 189 4Die men, like dogs;] This expression I find in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Your lieutenant's an ass. “How an ass? Die men like dogs?” Steevens.

Note return to page 190 5&lblank; Have we not Hiren here? Host. O' my word, captain, there's none such here.] i. e. shall I fear, that have this trusty and invincible sword by my side? For, as King Arthur's swords were called Caliburne and Ron; as Edward the Confessor's, Curtana; as Charlemagne's, Joyeuse; Orlando's, Durindana; Rinaldo's, Fusberta; and Rogero's, Balisarda; so Pistol, in imitation of these heroes, calls his sword Hiren. I have been told, Amadis de Gaul had a sword of this name. Hirir is to strike, and from hence it seems probable that Hiren may be derived; and so signify a swashing, cutting sword. —But what wonderful humour is there in the good Hostess so innocently mistaking Pistol's drift, fancying that he meant to fight for a whore in the house, and therefore telling him, “O' my word, captain, there's none such here; what the good-year! do you think, I would deny her?” Theobald. As it appears from a former note, that Hiren was sometimes a cant term for a mistress or harlot, Pistol may be supposed to give it on this occasion, as an endearing name, to his sword, in the same spirit of fondness that he presently calls it—sweetheart. Steevens. I see no ground for supposing that the words bear a different meaning here from what they did in a former passage. He is still, I think, merely quoting the same play he had quoted before. Malone. “&lblank; Have we not Hiren here?” I know not whence Shakspeare derived this allusion to Arthur's lance, “Accinctus etiam Caliburno gladio optimo, lancea nomine iron, dexteram suam decoravit.” M. Westmonasteriensis, p. 98. Bowle. Geoffery of Monmouth, p. 65, reads Ron instead of Iron. Steevens.

Note return to page 191 6&lblank; feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis:] This is a burlesque on a line in an old play called The Battel of Alcazar, &c. printed in 1594, in which Muley Mahomet enters to his wife with lion's flesh on his sword: “Feed then, and faint not, my faire Calypolis.” And again, in the same play: “Hold thee Calipolis; feed, and faint no more.” And again: “Feed and be fat, that we may meet the foe, “With strength and terrour to revenge our wrong.” The line is quoted in several of the old plays; and Decker, in his Satiromastix, 1602, has introduced Shakspeare's burlesque of it: “Feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis: stir not my beauteous wriggle-tails.” Steevens. It is likewise quoted by Marston, in his What You Will, 1607, as it stands in Shakspeare. Malone.

Note return to page 192 7Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me contenta.] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: Si fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me contenta &lblank;. Which is undoubtedly the true reading; but perhaps it was intended that Pistol should corrupt it. Johnson. Pistol is only a copy of Hannibal Gonsaga, who vaunted on yielding himself a prisoner, as you may read in an old collection of tales, called Wits, Fits, and Fancies: Si fortuna me tormenta, Il speranza me contenta. And Sir Richard Hawkins, in his Voyage to the South-Sea, 1593, throws out the same gingling distich on the loss of his pinnace. Farmer.

Note return to page 193 8Come we to full points here; &c.] That is, shall we stop here, shall we have no further entertainment? Johnson.

Note return to page 194 9Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif:] i. e. kiss thy fist. Mr. Pope will have it, that neif here is from nativa; i. e. a woman-slave that is born in one's house; and that Pistol would kiss Falstaff's domestick mistress, Doll Tear-sheet. Theobald. Neif, neif, and naif, are certainly law-terms for a woman-slave. So, in Thoroton's Antiquities of Nottinghamshire: “Every naif or she-villain, that took a husband or committed fornication, paid marchet for redemption of her blood 5s. and 4d. Again, in Stanyhurst's Virgil, 1582: Me famulam famuloque Heleno transmisit habendam. “Me his nyefe to his servaunt Helenus full firmelye betroathed.” But I believe neif is used by Shakspeare for fist. It is still employed in that sense in the northern counties, and by Ben Jonson, in his Poetaster: “Reach me thy neif.” Again, in The Witch of Edmonton, by Rowley, &c. 1658: “Oh, sweet ningle, thy neif once again.” Steevens. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Give me thy neif, Monsieur Mustard-Seed.” Malone.

Note return to page 195 1&lblank; Galloway nags?] That is, common hacknies. Johnson.

Note return to page 196 2&lblank; like a shove-groat shilling:] This expression occurs in Every Man in his Humour: “&lblank; made it run as smooth off the tongue as a shove-groat shilling.” Again, in Humour's Ordinary, by Samuel Rowlands, Satire iv.: “At shove-groat, venter-point, or crosse and pile.” I suppose it to have been a piece of polished metal made use of in the play of shovel-board. See vol. iv. p. 21, n. 2. Steevens. Mr. Steevens supposes the shove-groat shilling to have been used in the game of shovel-board, by which he seems to infer that the games of shove-groat and shovel-board were the same; but this is apparently a mistake. The former was invented during the reign of Henry the Eighth; for in the statutes of his 33d year, chap. ix. it is called a new game. It was also known by the several appellations of slide-groat, slide-board, slide-thrift, and slip-thrift, the first of which was probably adopted from the game being originally played with the silver groats of the time, then nearly as large as modern shillings. When the broad shillings of Edward the Sixth were coined, they were substituted for the groats in this game, and used also at that of shovel-board, which seems to have been only a variation of the other on a larger scale. Nothing has occurred to carry it beyond the time of Henry the Eighth; and from the want of such a term as a shovel-groat, it is probably not older than the reign of Edward the Sixth, who first coined the shilling piece. Shovel-board is already too well known to require any description of it in this place; but of the other little seems recorded, or not sufficient to discover the manner in which it was played. Holinshed, or rather Stanihurst, in his History of Ireland, speaking of a mandate for the execution of the Earl of Kildare in the reign of Henry the Eighth, says, that “one night when the lieutenant and he for their disport were playing at slidegrote or shofleboorde, sodainly commeth from the Cardinall (Wolsey) a mandatum to execute Kyldare on the morrow. The earle marking the lieutenant's deepe sigh, By S. Bryde, Lieutenant, quoth he, there is some made game in that scrole; but fall how it will, this throwe is for a huddle.” Here the writer has either confounded the two games, or might only mean to state that the Earl was playing at one or the other of them. Rice the puritan, in his Invective Against Vices, black letter, no date, 12mo. speaks of “paysed [weighed] groates to plaie at slip-thrifte;” and in another place he asks whether God sent Adam into Paradise to play at it. There is a modern game called Justice, Jervis which is supposed by Mr. Strutt, who has described it at large, to bear some resemblance to shove-groat. See his Sports and Pastimes, p. 225. Douce. Slide-thrift, or shove-groat, is one of the games prohibited by statute 33 Henry VIII. c. 9. Blackstone.

Note return to page 197 3Then death rock me asleep,] This is a fragment of an ancient song supposed to have been written by Anne Boleyn: “O death rock me on slepe,   “Bring me on quiet rest,” &c. For the entire song, see Sir John Hawkin's General History of Musick, vol. iii. p. 31. Steevens. In Arnold Cosbie's Ultimum Vale to the Vaine World, an elegie written by himselfe in the Marshalea, after his condemnation, for murthering Lord Brooke, 4to. 1591, are these lines: “O death, rock me asleepe! Father of heaven, “That hast sole power to pardon sinnes of men, “Forgive the faults and follies of my youth.” Reed.

Note return to page 198 4&lblank; Come, Atropos, I say!] It has been suggested that this is a name which Pistol gives to his sword; but surely he means nothing more than to call on one of the sisters three to aid him in the fray. Malone. Perhaps Pistol alludes to a poem printed in A Gorgious Gallery of Gallant Inuentions, &c. 4to. 1578: “The Louer complayneth of his Ladie's Inconstancy,” to the tune of ‘I lothe that I did loue:’ “I hate this lothsome life,   “O Atropos draw nie, “Untwist ye thred of mortall strife,   “Send death, and let mee die.” Steevens.

Note return to page 199 5Are you not hurt i' the groin?] Falstaff had promised to marry Mrs. Quickly, who, on this occasion, appears to have had the widow Wadman's solicitudes about her. Steevens.

Note return to page 200 6&lblank; Ah, villain!] Thus the folio: the quarto reads—a villain; which I once thought might be right, and that she meant Pistol. But I have observed that a is frequently printed in the quarto copies for ah: the reading of the folio is therefore certainly right. Malone.

Note return to page 201 7&lblank; I'll canvas thee between a pair of sheets.] This phrase occurs in the 12th Mery leste of the Widow Edyth, 1573: “Hore, hore, by coks blood euen here, “Sayd Cotes, and it were not for shame, “I should canvas thee, and make thee lame.” Steevens. Doll's meaning here is sufficiently clear. There is however an allusion which might easily escape notice, to the material of which coarse sheets were formerly made. So, in the MS. Account-book of Mr. Philip Henslow, which has been already quoted: “7 Maye, 1594. Lent goody Nalle upon a payre of canvas sheates, for v s.” Malone.

Note return to page 202 8&lblank; little tidy bartholomew boar pig,] For tidy, Sir T. Hanmer reads tiny; but they are both words of endearment, and equally proper. Bartholomew boar-pig is a little pig made of paste, sold at Bartholomew fair, and given to children for a fairing. Johnson. Tidy has two significations, timely and neat. In the first of these senses, I believe, it is used in The Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “I myself have given good, tidie lambs.” Steevens. From Ben Jonson's play of Bartholomew Fair, we learn, that it was the custom formerly to have booths in Bartholomew Fair, in which pigs were dressed and sold, and to these it is probable the allusion is here, and not to the pigs of paste mentioned by Dr. Johnson. The practice of roasting pigs at Bartholomew Fair continued until the beginning of the last century, if not later. It is mentioned in Ned Ward's London Spy, 1697. When about the year 1708 some attempts were made to limit the duration of the fair to three days, a poem was published entitled The Pig's Petition against Bartholomew Fair, &c. See Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, 1780, vol. xii. p. 419. Tidy, I apprehend, means only fat, and in that sense it was certainly sometimes used. See an old translation of Galateo of Manners and Behaviour, bl. l. 1578, p. 77: “and it is more proper and peculiar speache to say, the shivering of an ague, than to call it the colde; and flesh that is tidie to terme it rather fat than fulsome.” Reed. Again, in Gawin Douglas's translation of the 5th Æneid: “And als mony swine and tydy qwyis.” Steevens. See also D'Avenant's burlesque Verses on a long Vacation, written about 1630: “Now London's chief on saddle new “Rides into fair of Barthol'mew; “He twirls his chain, and looking big “As if to fright the head of pig, “That gaping lies on greasy stall, “Till female with great belly call,” &c. Coles, whose Dictionary explains many of Shakspeare's words, interprets tidy by dapper, habilis, agilis; for dapper, he gives us homunculus agilis, animosus. And this I believe is the meaning here. Doll meant to praise Falstaff's nimbleness and agility in fighting o' days and foining o' nights. Malone.

Note return to page 203 9&lblank; like a death's head;] It appears from the following passage in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1605, that it was the custom for the bawds of that age to wear a death's head in a ring, very probably with the common motto, memento mori. Cocledemoy, speaking of some of these, says: “&lblank; as for their death, how can it be bad, since their wickedness is always before their eyes, and a death's head most commonly on their middle finger.” Again, in Massinger's Old Law: “&lblank; sell some of my cloaths to buy thee a death's head, and put it upon thy middle finger: your least considering bawds do so much.” Again, in Northward Hoe, 1607: “&lblank; as if I were a bawd, no ring pleases me but a death's head.” On the Stationers' books, Feb. 21, 1582, is entered a ballad intitled Remember thy End. Steevens. Falstaff's allusion, I should have supposed, was to the death's head, and motto on hatchments, grave-stones, and the like.— Such a ring, however, as Mr. Steevens describes, but without any inscription, being only brass, is in my possession. Ritson.

Note return to page 204 1Tewksbury mustard:] Tewksbury is a market town in the county of Gloucester, formerly noted for mustard-balls made there, and sent into other parts. Grey.

Note return to page 205 2&lblank; in a mallet.] So, in Milton's Prose Works, 1738, vol. i. p. 330: “Though the fancy of this doubt be as obtruse and sad as any mallet.” Tollet.

Note return to page 206 3&lblank; eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons;] Conger with fennel was formerly regarded as a provocative. It is mentioned by Ben Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair: “&lblank; like a long-laced conger with green fennel in the joll of it.” And in Philaster, one of the ladies advises the wanton Spanish prince to abstain from this article of luxury. Greene likewise, in his Quip for an upstart Courtier, calls fennel “women's weeds,”—fit generally for that sex, sith while they are maidens they wish wantonly.” The qualification that follows, viz. that of swallowing candles' ends by way of flap-dragons, seems to indicate no more than that the Prince loved him, because he was always ready to do any thing for his amusement, however absurd or unnatural. Nash, in his Pierce Pennylesse his Supplication to the Devil, advises hard drinkers “&lblank; to have some shooing horne to pull on their wine, as a rasher on the coals, or a red herring; or to stir it about with a candle's end to make it taste the better,” &c. And Ben Jonson, in his News from the Moon, &c. a masque, speaks of those who eat candles' ends, as an act of love and gallantry; and Beaumont and Fletcher, in Monsieur Thomas: “&lblank; carouse her health in cans, and candles' ends.” In Rowley's Match at Midnight, 1633, a captain says, that his “corporal was lately choaked at Delf by swallowing a flap-dragon.” Again, in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1605: “&lblank; have I not been drunk to your health, swallowed flapdragons, eat glasses, drank urine, stabbed arms, and done all the offices of protested gallantry for your sake?” Again, in The Christian turn'd Turk, 1612: “&lblank; as familiarly as pikes do gudgeons, and with as much facility as Dutchmen swallow flapdragons.” Steevens. A flap-dragon is some small combustible body, fired at one end, and put afloat in a glass of liquor. It is an act of a toper's dexterity to toss off the glass in such a manner as to prevent the flap-dragon from doing mischief. Johnson.

Note return to page 207 4&lblank; and rides the wild mare with the boys;] “Riding the wild mare,” is another name for the childish sport of see-saw, or what the French call bascule and balançoire. Douce.

Note return to page 208 5&lblank; wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg;] The learned editor of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 1775, observes, that such is part of the description of a smart abbot, by an anonymous writer of the thirteenth century: “Ocreas habebat in cruribus, quasi innatæ essent, sine plicâ porrectas.” MS. Bod. James, n. 6, p. 121. Steevens.

Note return to page 209 6&lblank; discreet stories;] We should read—indiscreet. Warburton. I suppose by discreet stories is meant what suspicious masters and mistresses of families would call prudential information; i. e. what ought to be known, and yet is disgraceful to the teller: Among the virtues of John Rugby, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Quickly adds, that “he is no tell-tale, no breed-bate.” Steevens. Dr. Warburton would most unnecessarily read indiscreet. Mr. Steevens supposes that “by discreet stories is meant what suspicious masters and mistresses of families would call prudential information; i. e. what ought to be known, and yet is disgraceful to the teller.” But Poins, of whom Falstaff is speaking, had no masters or mistresses; and if it be recollected with what sort of companions he was likely to associate, Falstaff's meaning will appear to be, that he excites no censure for telling them modest stories; or in plain English that he tells them nothing but immodest ones. Douce.

Note return to page 210 7&lblank; nave of a wheel &lblank;] Nave and knave are easily reconciled, but why ‘nave of a wheel?’ I suppose from his roundness. He was called round man, in contempt, before. Johnson. So, in the play represented before the king and queen in Hamlet: “Break all the spokes and fellies of her wheel, “And bowl the round nave down the steep of heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 211 8&lblank; his poll clawed like a parrot.] This custom, we may suppose, was not peculiar to Falstaff, especially as it occurred among the French, to whom we were indebted for most of our artificial gratifications. So, in La Venerie, &c. by Jaques de Fouilloux, &c. Paris, 4to. 1585: “Le seigneur doit auoir sa petite charette, là où il sera dedans, auec sa fillette, aagée de seize a dix sept ans, la quelle lui frottera la teste par les chemins.” A wooden cut annexed, represents this operation on an old man, who lies along in his carriage, with a girl sitting at his head. Steevens.

Note return to page 212 9Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction!] This was, indeed, a prodigy. The astrologers, says Ficinus, remark, that Saturn and Venus are never conjoined. Johnson.

Note return to page 213 1&lblank; The firy Trigon, &c.] Trigonum igneum is the astronomical term when the upper planets meet in a fiery sign. The fiery Trigon, I think, consists of Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius. So, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. vi. chap. xxxi.: “Even at the fierie Trigon shall your chief ascendant be.” Again, in Pierce's Supererogation, or a new Praise of the old Asse, &c. by Gabriel Harvey, 1593: “&lblank; now the warring planet was expected in person, and the fiery Trigon seemed to give the alarm.” Steevens. So, in A Dialogue both pleasaunt and pietifull, &c. by Wm. Bulleyne, 1564: “Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, are hotte, drie, bitter, and cholerike, governing hot and drie thinges, and this is called the fierie triplicitie.” Malone.

Note return to page 214 2&lblank; lisping to his master's old tablets, &c.] We should read—“clasping too his master's old tables,” &c. i. e. embracing his master's cast off whore, and now his bawd [his note-book, his counsel-keeper]. We have the same phrase again in Cymbeline: “You clasp young Cupid's tables.” Warburton. I believe the old reading to be the true one. Bardolph was very probably drunk, and might lisp a little in his courtship; or might assume an affected softness of speech, like Chaucer's Frere: Tyrwhitt's edit. Prol. v. 266: “Somewhat he lisped for his wantonnesse, “To make his English swete upon his tonge.” Or, like the Page, in The Mad Lover of Beaumont and Fletcher, who “Lisps when he list to catch a chambermaid.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; He can carve too and lisp.” Again, in Marston's 8th Satire: “With voyce distinct, all fine, articulate, “Lisping, ‘Fayre saynt, my woe compassionate: “By heaven thine eye is my soule-guiding fate.” Steevens. Certainly the word clasping better preserves the integrity of the metaphor; or, perhaps, as the expression is old tables, we might read licking: Bardolph was kissing the Hostess; and old ivory books were commonly cleaned by licking them. Farmer. The old table-book was a counsel-keeper, or a register of secrets; and so also was Dame Quickly. I have therefore not the least suspicion of any corruption in the text. Lisping is, in our author's dialect, making love, or, in modern language, saying soft things. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Falstaff apologises to Mrs. Ford for his concise address to her, by saying, “I cannot cog, and say this and that, like a many of these lisping hawthornbuds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Buckle r's-bury in simple-time; I cannot; but I love thee,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 215 3&lblank; a kirtle of?] I know not exactly what a kirtle is. The following passages may serve to show that it was something different from a gown: “How unkindly she takes the matter, and cannot be reconciled with less than a gown or a kirtle of silk.” Greene's Art of Legerdemain, &c. 1612. Again, in one of Stanyhurst's poems, 1582: “This gowne your lovemate, that kirtle costlye she craveth.” Bale, in his Actes of English Votaries, says, that Roger earl of Shrewsbury sent “to Clunyake in France, for the kyrtle of holy Hugh the abbot.” Perhaps kirtle, in its common acceptation, means a petticoat. “Half a dozen taffata gowns or sattin kirtles.” Cynthia's Revels, by Ben Jonson. Stubbs mentions kirtles, but is not precise in his description of them. Dr. Farmer supposes them to be the same as safe-guards or riding-hoods. In A Lytell Treatyse for to lerne Englysshe and Frensshe, emprynted at Westminster, by Wynken de Worde, we find “a kyrtell” explained by the word—“ung corset.” Steevens. A kirtle, I believe, meant a long cloak. Minsheu describes it as an upper or exterior garment, worn over another; what in French is called a garde-robe. See his Dict. 1617. The latter word is explained by Cotgrave thus: “A cloth or cloak worn or cast over a garment to keep it from dust, rain,” &c. That writer, however, supposes kirtle and petticoat to be synonymous; for he renders the word vasquine thus: “A kirtle or petticoat;” and surcot he calls “an upper kirtle, or a garment worn over a kirtle.” When, therefore, a kirtle is mentioned simply, perhaps a petticoat is meant; when an upper kirtle is spoken of, a long cloak or mantle is probably intended; and I imagine a half-kirtle, which occurs in a subsequent scene in this play, meant a short cloak, half the length of the upper kirtle. The term half-kirtle seems inconsistent with Dr Farmer's idea; as does Milton's use of the word in his Masque, “the flowery-kirtled Naiades.” Stubbes, in his Anatomie of Abuses, 1595, describes a kirtle as distinct from both a gown and a petticoat. After having described the gowns usually worn at that time, he proceeds thus: “&lblank; then have thei petticots of the best clothe, of scarlette, grograine, taffatie, or silke, &c. But of whatsoever their petticoats be, yet must they have kirtles, (for so they call them,) either of silke, velvet, grograine, taffatie, satten or scarlet, bordered with gardes, lace,” &c. I suppose he means a mantle or long cloak. So also, in The First Part of the Contention of the Two Houses of Yorke and Lancaster, 1600: “Marry, he that will lustily stand to it, shall go with me, and take up these commodities following: item, a gown, a kirtle, a petticoat, and a smock.” My interpretation of kirtle is confirmed by Barret's Alvearie, 1580, who renders kirtle, by subminia, cyclas, palla, pallula, &grx;&grl;&gra;&gric;&grn;&gra;, surcot.—Subminia Cole interprets in his Latin Dictionary, 1697, “A kirtle, a light red coat.”—Cyclas, “a kirtle, a cimarr.” —Palla, “a woman's long gown; a veil that covers the head.”— Pallula, “a short kirtle.”—Lœna, “an Irish rugge, a freeze cassock, a rough hairy gaberdine.” From hence it appears, that a woman's kirtle, or rather upper-kirtle, (as distinguished from a petticoat, which was sometimes called a kirtle,) was a long mantle which reached to the ground, with a head to it that entirely covered the face; and it was, perhaps, usually red. A half-kirtle was a similar garment, reaching only somewhat lower than the waist. See Florio's Italian Dict. 1598: “Semicinto. A garment coming lower than the belly; also half-girt, as we may say a half-kirtle.” Cotgrave, however, translates Le devant du robe, an apron, or kirtle. Malone.

Note return to page 216 4Anon, anon, sir.] The usual answer of drawers at this period. So, in The Discoverie of the Knights of the Poste, 1597: “wherefore hee calling, the drawer presently answered with a shrill voyce, anon, anon, sir.” Reed.

Note return to page 217 5Ha! a bastard, &c.] The improbability of this scene is scarcely balanced by the humour. Johnson.

Note return to page 218 6&lblank; Poins his brother?] i. e. Poins's brother, or brother to Poins; a vulgar corruption of the genitive case. Ritson.

Note return to page 219 7&lblank; if you take not the heat.] Alluding, I suppose, to the proverb, “Strike while the iron is hot.” So again, in King Lear: “We must do something, and i' the heat.” Steevens.

Note return to page 220 8&lblank; candle-mine,] Thou inexhaustible magazine of tallow. Johnson.

Note return to page 221 9Not! to dispraise me;] The Prince means to say, “What! is it not abuse to dispraise me,” &c. Some of the modern editors read—No! &c. but, I think, without necessity. So, in Coriolanus: “Com. He'll never hear him. “Sic. Not?” There also Not has been rejected by the modern editors, and No inserted in its place. Malone.

Note return to page 222 1&lblank; outbids him too.] Thus the folio. The quarto reads— “&lblank; the devil blinds him too;” and perhaps it is right. Malone.

Note return to page 223 2&lblank; and burns, poor soul!] This is Sir T. Hanmer's reading. Undoubtedly right. The other editions had—“she is in hell already, and burns poor souls.” The venereal disease was called, in those times, the brennynge, or burning. Johnson.

Note return to page 224 3&lblank; for suffering flesh to be eaten, &c.] By several statutes made in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. for the regulation and observance of fish-days, victuallers were expressly forbidden to utter flesh in Lent, and to these Falstaff alludes. Douce.

Note return to page 225 4&lblank; all victuallers do so:] The brothels were formerly screened, under pretext of being victualling houses and taverns. So, in Webster and Rowley's Cure for a Cuckold: “This informer comes into Turnbull Street to a victualling house, and there falls in league with a wench, &c.—Now, Sir, this fellow, in revenge, informs against the bawd that kept the house,” &c. Again, in Gascoigne's Glass of Government, 1575: “&lblank; at a house with a red lattice you shall find an old bawd called Panderina, and a young damsel called Lamia.” Barrett, in his Alvearie, 1580, defines a victualling house thus: “A tavern where meate is eaten out of due season.” Steevens.

Note return to page 226 6O run, Doll, run; run, good Doll.] Thus the folio. The quarto reads—“O run, Doll run; run: Good Doll, come: she comes blubber'd: Yea, will you come, Doll?” Steevens.

Note return to page 227 7Scene I.] This first scene is not in my copy of the first edition. Johnson. There are two copies of the same date, and in one of these [quarto B] the scene has been added. They are in all other respects, alike. It should seem as if the defect in this quarto was undiscovered till most of the copies of it were sold, for only one that I have seen contains the addition. Signature E consists of six leaves. Four of these, exclusive of the two additional ones, were reprinted to make room for the omission. Steevens.

Note return to page 228 8&lblank; Sleep, gentle sleep,] The old copy, in defiance of metre, reads: “O sleep, O gentle sleep.” The repeated tragic O was probably a playhouse intrusion. Steevens.

Note return to page 229 9A watch-case, &c.] This alludes to the watchman set in garrison-towns upon some eminence, attending upon an alarum-bell, which was to ring out in case of fire, or any approaching danger. He had a case or box to shelter him from the weather, but at his utmost peril he was not to sleep whilst he was upon duty. These alarum-bells are mentioned in several other places of Shakspeare. Hanmer. In an ancient inventory cited in Strutt's &wynn;orda An&yogh;el-cynnan, vol. iii. p. 70, there is the following article: “Item, a laume or watche of iron, in an iron case, with 2 leaden plumets.” Strutt supposes, and no doubt rightly, that laume is an error for larum. Something of this kind, I believe, is here intended by watch-case, since this speech does not afford any other expressions to induce the supposition that the King had a sentry-box in his thoughts. Holt White.

Note return to page 230 1&lblank; slippery clouds,] The modern editors read shrowds, meaning the rope ladders by which the masts of ships are ascended. The old copy—“in the slippery clouds;” but I know not what advantage is gained by the alteration, for shrowds had anciently the same meaning as clouds. I could bring many instances of this use of the word from Drayton. So, in his Miracles of Moses: “And the sterne thunder from the airy shrowds, “To the sad world, in fear and horror spake.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Poem on Inigo Jones: “And peering forth of Iris in the shrowds.” Again, in Chapman's version of the twentieth Iliad: “&lblank; casting all thicke mantles made of clouds, “On their bright shoulders. Th' oppos'd gods sat hid in other shrouds.” A moderate tempest would hang the waves in the shrowds of a ship; a great one might poetically be said to suspend them on the clouds, which were too slippery to retain them. So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; I have seen “Th' ambitious ocean swell, and rage and foam “To be exalted with the threatening clouds.” Again, in Golding's translation of Ovid's Metamorphosis, book xi.: “The surges mounting up aloft did seeme to mate the skie, “And with their sprinkling for to wet the clouds that hang on hie.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Masque of Queens, 1609: “&lblank; when the boisterous sea, “Without a breath of wind, hath knock'd the sky.” Again, Virg. Æn. lib. iii.: &lblank; spumam elisam, et rorantia vidimus astra. Drayton's airy shrowds are the airy covertures of heaven; which in plain language are the clouds. A similar image to that before us, occurs in Churchyard's Praise of Poetrie, 1595: “The poets that can clime the cloudes,   “Like ship-boy to the top, “When sharpest stormes do shake the shrowdes,” &c. Lee, in his Mithradates, is the copier of Shakspeare: “So sleeps the sea-boy on the cloudy mast, “Safe as a drowsy Triton, rock'd by storms, “While tossing princes wake on beds of down.” Steevens. The instances produced by Mr. Steevens prove that clouds were sometimes called poetically airy shrouds, or shrouds suspended in air; but they do not appear to me to prove that any writer, speaking of a ship, ever called the shrouds of the ship by the name of clouds. I entirely, however, agree with him in thinking that clouds here is the true reading; and the passage produced from Julius Cæsar, while it fully supports it, shows that the word is to be understood in its ordinary sense. So again, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon swallowed up with yest and froth.” Malone. My position appears to have been misunderstood. I meant not to suggest that the shrowds of a ship were ever called clouds. What I designed to say was, that the clouds and the shrowds of heaven were anciently synonymous terms, so that by the exchange of the former word for the latter, no fresh idea would, in fact, be ascertained; as the word shrowds might be received in the sense of clouds as well as that of ship-tackle. Steevens. The epithet slippery agrees better with shrowds than clouds. Talbot.

Note return to page 231 2That, with the hurly,] Hurly is noise, derived from the French hurler to howl, as hurly-burly from Hurluberlu, Fr. Steevens. Holinshed, speaking of the commotions in the time of King Richard II. says: “It was rightly called the hurling time, there were such hurly burlyes kept in every place.” Holinshed, vol. ii. p. 1030, edit. 1577. So also in The Paston Letters, vol. i. p. 62: “And anone aftyr yt hurlyng the Bysshop Rosse apechyd me to the quene.” Boswell.

Note return to page 232 3Deny it to a king?] Surely, for the sake of metre, we should read— “Deny't a king?” Steevens.

Note return to page 233 4&lblank; Then, happy low, lie down!] Evidently corrupted from happy lowly clown. These two lines making the just conclusion from what preceded. “If sleep will fly a king and consort itself with beggars, then happy the lowly clown, and uneasy the crowned head.” Warburton. Dr. Warburton has not admitted this emendation into his text: I am glad to do it the justice which its author has neglected. Johnson. The sense of the old reading seems to be this: “You, who are happy in your humble situations, lay down your heads to rest! the head that wears a crown lies too uneasy to expect such a blessing.” Had not Shakspeare thought it necessary to subject himself to the tyranny of rhyme, he would probably have said: “then happy low, sleep on!” So, in The Misfortunes of Arthur, a tragedy, 1587: “Behold the peasant poore with tattered coate, “Whose eyes a meaner fortune feeds with sleepe, “How safe and sound the carelesse snudge doth snore.” Sir W. D'Avenant has the same thought in his Law against Lovers: “How soundly they sleep, whose pillows lie low!” Steevens.

Note return to page 234 5Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.] In my regulation of this passage I have followed the late editors; but I am now persuaded the first line should be pointed thus: “Why then good morrow to you all, my lords.” This mode of phraseology, where only two persons are addressed, is not very correct, but there is no ground for reading— “Why, then, good morrow to you. Well, my lords,” &c. as Theobald and all the subsequent editors do; for Shakspeare, in King Henry VI. Part II. Act II. Sc. II. has put the same expression into the mouth of York, when he addresses only his two friends, Salisbury and Warwick; though the author of the original play, printed in 1600, on which The Second Part of King Henry VI. was founded, had, in the corresponding place, employed the word both! “&lblank; Where as all you know, “Harmless Richard was murder'd traiterously.” This is one of the numerous circumstances that contribute to prove that Shakspeare's Henries were formed on the work of a preceding writer. See the Dissertation on that subject, in vol. xviii. Malone.

Note return to page 235 6It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd;] Distemper, that is, according to the old physick, a disproportionate mixture of humours, or inequality of innate heat and radical humidity, is less than actual disease, being only the state which foreruns or produces diseases. The difference between distemper and disease seems to be much the same as between disposition and habit. Johnson.

Note return to page 236 7My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.] I believe Shakspeare wrote school'd; tutor'd, and brought to submission. Warburton. Cool'd is certainly right. Johnson. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “&lblank; my humour shall not cool.” Steevens.

Note return to page 237 8O heaven! that one might read the book of fate; And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent (Weary of solid firmness,) melt itself Into the sea! and, other times, to see, &c.] So, in our author's 64th Sonnet: “When I have seen the hungry ocean gain “Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, “And the firm soil win of the watry main, “Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; “When I have seen such interchange of state,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 238 9&lblank; O, if this were seen, &c.] These four lines are supplied from the edition of 1600. Warburton. My copy wants the whole scene, and therefore these lines. There is some difficulty in the line— “What perils past, what crosses to ensue &lblank;,” because it seems to make past perils equally terrible with ensuing crosses. Johnson. This happy youth, who is to foresee the future progress of his life, cannot be supposed, at the time of his happiness, to have gone through many perils. Both the perils and the crosses that the King alludes to were yet to come; and what the youth is to foresee is, the many crosses he would have to contend with, even after he has passed through many perils. M. Mason. In answer to Dr. Johnson's objection it may be observed, that past perils are not described as equally terrible with ensuing crosses, but are merely mentioned as an aggravation of the sum of human calamity. He who has already gone through some perils, might hope to have his quietus, and might naturally sink in despondency, on being informed that “bad begins and worse remains behind.” Even past perils are painful in retrospect, as a man shrinks at the sight of a precipice from which he once fell.—To one part of Mr. M. Mason's observation it may be replied, that Shakspeare does not say the happy, but the happiest, youth; that is, even the happiest of mortals, all of whom are destined to a certain portion of misery. Though what I have now stated may, I think, fairly be urged in support of what seems to have been Dr. Johnson's sense of this passage, yet I own Mr. M. Mason's interpretation is extremely ingenious, and probably is right. The perils here spoken of may not have been actually passed by the peruser of the book of fate, though they have been passed by him in “viewing his progress through;” or, in other words, though the register of them has been perused by him. They may be said to be past in one sense only; namely, with respect to those which are to ensue; which are presented to his eye subsequently to those which precede. If the spirit and general tendency of the passage, rather than the grammatical expression, be attended to, this may be said to be the most obvious meaning. The construction is, “What perils having been past, what crosses are to ensue.” Malone.

Note return to page 239 1&lblank; But which of you was by, &c.] He refers to King Richard II. Act IV. Sc. II. But whether the king's or the author's memory fails him, so it was, that Warwick was not present at that conversation. Johnson. Neither was the King himself present, so that he must have received information of what passed from Northumberland. His memory, indeed, is singularly treacherous, as, at the time of which he is now speaking, he had actually ascended the throne. Ritson.

Note return to page 240 2&lblank; cousin Nevil,] Shakspeare has mistaken the name of the present nobleman. The earldom of Warwick was, at this time, in the family of Beauchamp, and did not come into that of the Nevils till many years after, in the latter end of the reign of King Henry VI. when it descended to Anne Beauchamp, (the daughter of the earl here introduced,) who was married to Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury. Steevens. Anne Beauchamp was the wife of that Richard Nevil, (in her right,) Earl of Warwick, and son to Richard Earl of Salisbury, who makes so conspicuous a figure in our author's Second and Third Parts of King Henry VI. He succeeded to the latter title on his father's death, in 1460, but is never distinguished by it. Ritson.

Note return to page 241 3&lblank; I had no such intent;] He means, “I should have had no such intent, but that necessity,” &c. or Shakspeare has here also forgotten his former play, or has chosen to make Henry forget his situation at the time mentioned. He had then actually accepted the crown. See King Richard II. Act IV. Sc. I.: “In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.” Malone.

Note return to page 242 4And, by the necessary form of this,] I think we might better read: “&lblank; the necessary form of things.” The word this has no very evident antecedent. Johnson. If any change were wanting, I would read: “And, by the necessary form of these,” i. e. the things mentioned in the preceding line. Steevens. “And, by the necessary form of this,” is, I apprehend, to be understood this history of the times deceased. Henley.

Note return to page 243 5Are these things then necessities?] I suspect that— things then are interpolated words. They corrupt the measure, do not improve the sense, and the anticipation of then diminishes the force of the same adverb in the following line. Steevens.

Note return to page 244 6Then let us meet them like necessities:] I am inclined to read: “Then let us meet them like necessity.” That is, with the resistless violence of necessity; then comes more aptly the following line: “And that same word even now cries out on us.” That is, the word necessity. Johnson. That is, let us meet them with that patience and quiet temper with which men of fortitude meet those events which they know to be inevitable.—I cannot approve of Johnson's explanation. M. Mason.

Note return to page 245 7&lblank; that Glendower is dead.] Glendower did not die till after King Henry IV. Shakspeare was led into this error by Holinshed, who places Owen Glendower's death in the tenth year of Henry's reign. See vol. xvi. p. 310, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 246 8&lblank; unto the Holy Land.] This play, like the former, proceeds in one unbroken tenor through the first edition, and there is therefore no evidence that the division of the Acts was made by the author. Since, then, every editor has the same right to mark the intervals of action as the players, who made the present distribution, I should propose that this scene may be added to the foregoing Act, and the remove from London to Gloucestershire be made in the intermediate time, but that it would shorten the next Act too much, which has not, even now, its due proportion to the rest. Johnson.

Note return to page 247 9&lblank; Justice Shallow's House in Gloucestershire.] From the following passage in The Return from Parnassus, 1606, we may conclude that Kempe was original Justice Shallow.—Burbage and Kempe are introduced, instructing some Cambridge students to act. Burbage makes one of the students repeat some lines of Hieronymo and King Richard III. Kempe says to another, “Now for you,—methinks you belong to my tuition; and your face methinks would be good for a foolish Mayor, or a foolish Justice of Peace.”—And again: “Thou wilt do well in time if thou wilt be ruled by thy betters, that is, by myselfe, and such grave aldermen of the play-house as I am.” It appears from Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593, that he likewise played the Clown: “What can be made of a rope-maker more than a clowne. Will. Kempe, I mistrust it will fall to thy lot for a merriment one of these dayes.” Malone.

Note return to page 248 1&lblank; by the rood.] i. e. the cross. Pope. Hearne, in his Glossary to Peter Langtoft, p. 544, under the word cross, observes, that although the cross and the rood are commonly taken for the same, yet the rood properly signified formerly the image of Christ on the cross; so as to represent both the cross and figure of our blessed Saviour, as he suffered upon it. The roods that were in churches and chapels were placed in shrines that were called rood lofts. “Roodloft, (saith Blount,) is a shrine whereon was placed the cross of Christ. The rood was an image of Christ on the cross, made generally of wood, and erected in a loft for that purpose, just over the passage out of the church into the chancel.” Reed. Bullokar, however, is a better authority than any of these, being contemporary with Shakspeare. In his English Expositor, 8vo. 1616, he defines roode thus: “In land it signifies a quarter of an acre. It is sometimes taken for the picture of our Saviour upon the cross.” Malone.

Note return to page 249 2Sil.] The oldest copy of this play was published in 1600. It must however have been acted somewhat earlier, as in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, which was performed in 1599, is the following reference to it: “No, lady, this is a kinsman to Justice Silence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 250 3&lblank; Will Squele a Cotswold man,] The games at Cotswold were, in the time of our author, very famous. Of these I have seen accounts in several old pamphlets; and Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele, as a Cotswold man, meant to have him understood as one who was well versed in manly exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit, and an athletic constitution. Steevens. The games of Cotswold, I believe, did not commence till the reign of James I. I have never seen any pamphlet that mentions them as having existed in the time of Elizabeth. Randolph speaks of their revival in the time of Charles I.; and from Dover's book they appear to have been revived in 1636. But this does not prove that they were exhibited in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. They certainly were in that of King James, and were probably discontinued after his death. However, Cotswold might have been long famous for meetings of tumultuous swinge-bucklers. See vol. viii. p. 16, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 251 4&lblank; swinge-bucklers &lblank;] Swinge-bucklers and swash-bucklers were words implying rakes or rioters in the time of Shakspeare. Nash, addressing himself to his old opponent Gabriel Harvey, 1598, says: “Turpe senex miles, 'tis time for such an olde foole to leave playing the swash-buckler.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607, Caraffa says, “when I was a scholar in Padua, faith, then I could have swinged a sword and buckler,” &c. Steevens. “West Smithfield (says the Continuator of Stowe's Annals, 1631,) was for many years called Ruffians' Hall, by reason it was the usual place of frayes and common fighting, during the time that sword and buckler were in use; when every serving-man, from the base to the best, carried a buckler at his backe, which hung by the hilt or pummel of his sword which hung before him. —Untill the 20th year of Queen Elizabeth, it was usual to have frayes, fights, and quarrels upon the sundayes and holydayes, sometimes, twenty, thirty, and forty swords and bucklers, halfe against halfe, as well by quarrels of appointment as by chance.— And in the winter season all the high streets were much annoyed and troubled with hourly frayes, and sword and buckler men, who took pleasure in that bragging fight; and although they made great shew of much furie, and fought often, yet seldome any man was hurt, for thrusting was not then in use, neither would any one of twenty strike beneath the waste, by reason they held it cowardly and beastly.” Malone.

Note return to page 252 5&lblank; bona-robas &lblank;] i. e. ladies of pleasure. Bona Roba, Ital. So, in The Bride, by Nabbes, 1640: “Some bona-roba they have been sporting with.” Steevens. See Florio's Italian Dictionary, 1598; “Buona roba, as we say good stuff; a good wholesome plump-cheeked wench.” Malone.

Note return to page 253 7&lblank; Skogan's head &lblank;] Who Skogan was, may be understood from the following passage in The Fortunate Isles, a masque, by Ben Jonson, 1626: “&lblank; Methinks you should enquire now after Skelton, “And master Scogan. “&lblank; Scogan? what was he? “Oh, a fine gentleman, and a master of arts “Of Henry the Fourth's times, that made disguises “For the king's sons, and writ in ballad royal “Daintily well,” &c. Among the works of Chaucer is a poem called “Scogan unto the Lordes and Gentilmen of the Kinge's House.” Steevens. In the written copy, (says the editor of Chaucer's Works, 1598,) the title hereof is thus: “Here followethe a morall ballade to the Prince, now Prince Henry, the Duke of Clarence, the Duke of Bedford, the Duke of Gloucester, the kinges sons, by Henry Scogan, at a supper among the merchants in the vintrey at London, in the house of Lewis John.” The purport of the ballad is to dissuade them from spending their youth “folily.” John Skogan, who is said to have taken the degree of master of arts at Oxford, “being (says Mr. Warton) an excellent mimick, and of great pleasantry in conversation, became the favourite buffoon of the court of King Edward IV.” Bale and Tanner have confounded him with Henry Scogan, if indeed they were distinct persons, which I doubt. The compositions which Bale has attributed to the writer whom he supposes to have lived in the time of Edward IV. were written by the poet of the reign of Henry IV. which induces me to think that there was no poet or master of arts of this name, in the time of Edward. There might then have been a jester of the same name. Scogin's Jests were published by Andrew Borde, a physician in the reign of Henry VIII. They were entered in the Stationers' books in 1565, by Thomas Colwell: and were probably published in that year. Shakspeare had probably met with this book; and as he was very little scrupulous about anachronisms, this person, and not Henry Scogan, the poet of the time of Henry IV. may have been in his thoughts: I say may, for it is by no means certain, though the author of Remarks on the last edition of Shakspeare, &c. has asserted it with that confidence which distinguishes his observations. Since this note was written, I have observed that Mr. Tyrwhitt agrees with me in thinking that there was no poet of the name of Scogan in the time of King Edward IV. nor any ancient poet of that name but Henry Scogan, Master of Arts, who lived in the time of King Henry IV. and he urges the same argument that I have done, namely, that the compositions which Bale ascribes to the supposed John Scogan, were written by Henry. Bale and Tanner were, I believe, Mr. Warton's only authority. “As to the two circumstances (says Mr. Tyrwhitt,) of his being a master of arts of Oxford, and jester to the king, I can find no older authority for it than Dr. Borde's book. That he was contemporary with Chaucer, but so as to survive him several years, perhaps till the reign of Henry V. is sufficiently clear from this poem [the poem mentioned in the former part of my note]. “Shakspeare seems to have followed the jest book, in considering Scogan as a mere buffoon, when he mentions as one of Falstaff's boyish exploits that he broke Scogan's head at the courtgate.” Tyrwhitt's Chaucer, vol. v. Pref. “Among a number of people of all sorts who had letters of protection to attend Richard II. upon his expedition into Ireland in 1399, is Henricus Scogan, Armiger.” Ibidem, p. xv. Malone. This was John Scogan, jester to King Edward IV. and not Henry, the poet, who lived long before, but is frequently confounded with him. Our author, no doubt, was well read in John's Jests, “gathered by Andrew Boarde, doctor of physick,” and printed in 4to. and black letter, but without date; and his existence, which has been lately called in question, (for what may not be called in question?) is completely ascertained by the following characteristic epitaph, accidentally retrieved from a contemporary manuscript in the Harleian library (No. 1587): Hic iacet in tumulo corpus Scogan ecce Johannis; Sit tibi pro speculo, letus fuit eius in annis: Leti transibunt, transitus vitare nequibunt; Quo nescimus ibunt, vinosi cito peribunt. Holinshed, speaking of the great men of Edward the Fourth's time, mentions “Scogan, a learned gentleman, and student for a time in Oxford, of a pleasaunte witte, and bent to mery deuises, in respect whereof he was called into the courte, where giuing himselfe to his naturall inclination of mirthe and pleasaunt pastime, he plaied many sporting parts, althoughe not in such vnciuill maner as hath bene of hym reported.” These uncivil reports, evidently allude to the above jest-book, a circumstance of which no one who consults it will have the least doubt. See also Bale's Scriptores Britanniæ, and Tanner's Bibliotheca Britannico-Hibernica, art. Skogan. After all, there is some reason to believe that John was actually a little bit of a poet. Drayton, in his preface to his Eclogues, says, that “the Colin Clout of Scogan, under Henry the Seventh, is pretty;” clearly meaning some pastoral under that title, and of that age, which he must have read, and, consequently, not Skelton's poem so called, nor any thing of Spenser's. Langham, in his enumeration of Captain Cox's library, notices “the Seargeaunt that became a Fryar, Skogan, Collyn Cloout, the Fryar and the Boy, Elynor Rumming , and the Nutbrooun Maid;” and that, by Skogan, the writer does not mean his Jests, is evident, from the circumstance of all the rest being poetical tracts. He is elsewhere named in company with Skelton; and, in support of this idea, one may refer to the facetious epigram he wrote on taking his degree, at Oxford, of Master of Arts. Mr. Tyrwhitt's opinion will, on all occasions, be intitled to attention and respect: but no opinion can have any weight whatever against a positive and incontrovertible fact. Ritson. Mr. Ritson has maintained the same opinion in his Bibliographia Poetica, with ludicrous vehemence. The only argument he has produced to show that John Scogan was a poet, namely, the quotation from Drayton, will by no means prove his point. Drayton, or his printer, may have mistaken Scogan for Skelton, for it is not so clear that he meant that Colin Clout was a pastoral, if we read what follows: “The Colin Clout of Scogan under Henry the Seventh is pretty, but Barclay's Ship of Fools hath twenty wiser in it.” The Ship of Fools was certainly not a pastoral. It is admitted that the date given by Drayton, “under Henry the Seventh,” is wrong; and Mr. Ritson, in his Bibliographia, corrects it to Edward the Fourth. It may as well have been Henry IV. which might more easily be mistaken for Henry VII. The facetious epigram alluded to, which Mr. Ritson has given in his Bibliographia, will go a very little way towards proving him a poet. Boswell.

Note return to page 254 8&lblank; crack,] This is an old Islandic word, signifying a boy or child. One of the fabulous kings and heroes of Denmark, called Hrolf, was surnamed Krake. See the story in Edda, Fable 63. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 255 9&lblank; clapped i' the clout &lblank;] i. e. hit the white mark. Warburton. So, in King Lear: “O, well flown, bird!—i' the clout, i' the clout.” Steevens.

Note return to page 256 1&lblank; at twelve score;] i. e. of yards. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, 1612: “At markes full fortie score they us'd to prick and rove.” Malone. This mode of expression, certainly in this instance, and I believe in general, means yards; but the line from Drayton makes this opinion doubtful, or shows the extreme inaccuracy of the poet, for no man was ever capable of shooting an arrow forty score yards. Douce.

Note return to page 257 2&lblank; fourteen, and fourteen and a half,] That is, fourteen score of yards. Johnson. Twelve score appears, however, from a passage in Churchyard's Charitie, 1595, to have been no shot of an extraordinary length: “They hit the white that never shot before, “No marke-men sure, nay bunglers in their kind, “A sort of swads that scarce can shoot twelve score.” Steevens. The utmost distance that the archers of ancient times reached, is supposed to have been about three hundred yards. Old Double therefore certainly drew a good bow. Malone. Shakspeare probably knew what he was about when he spoke of archery, which in his time was practised by every one. He is describing Double as a very excellent archer, and there is no inconsistency in making such a one shoot fourteen score and a half; but it must be allowed that none but a most extraordinary archer would be able to hit a mark at twelve score. Some allowance, however, should be made when the speaker is considered. Douce. The long field (I believe at Finsbury) is 16 score 10 yards. A Mr. Bates once shot an arrow near 30 yards beyond the bound of it, which was 18 score. Mr. John Rowston, of Manchester, has often shot 18 score. Miss Banks.

Note return to page 258 *Folio gives Good morrow, honest gentlemen, to Shallow.

Note return to page 259 3&lblank; very good; a good phrase, &c.] Accommodate was a modish term of that time, as Ben Jonson informs us: “You are not to cast or wring for the perfumed terms of the time, as accommodation, complement, spirit, &c. but use them properly in their places as others.” Discoveries. Hence Bardolph calls it a word of exceeding good command. His definition of it is admirable, and highly satirical: nothing being more common than for inaccurate speakers or writers, when they should define, to put their hearers off with a synonymous term; or, for want of that, even with the same term differently accommodated: as in the instance before us. Warburton. The same word occurs in Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour: “Hostess, accommodate us with another bedstaff: “The woman does not understand the words of action.” Steevens.

Note return to page 260 4&lblank; Master Sure-card, as I think.] It is observable, that many of Shakspeare's names are invented, and characteristical. Master Forth-right, the tilter; Master Shoe-tie, the traveller; Master Smooth, the silkman; Mrs. Over-done, the bawd; Kate Keep-down, Jane Night-work, &c. Sure-card was used as a term for a boon companion, so lately as the latter end of the last century, by one of the translators of Suetonius. Malone.

Note return to page 261 5&lblank; we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book.] That is, we have in the muster-book many names for which we receive pay, though we have not the men. Johnson. So, in Barnabie Riche's Souldiers Wishe to Britons Welfare, or Captaine Skill and Captaine Pill, 1604, p. 19: “One speciall meane that a shifting captaine hath to deceive his prince, is in his number, to take pay for a whole company, when he hath not halfe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 262 6&lblank; take such order,] i. e. take such measures. So, in Othello: “Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.” Steevens.

Note return to page 263 7Here is two more called than your number;] Five only have been called, and the number required is four. Some name seems to have been omitted by the transcriber. The restoration of this sixth man would solve the difficulty that occurs below; for when Mouldy and Bull-calf are set aside, Falstaff, as Dr. Farmer has observed, gets but three recruits. Perhaps our author himself is answerable for this slight inaccuracy. Malone. Mr. Capell omits the word two. Boswell.

Note return to page 264 8&lblank; the windmill in Saint George's fields.] It appears from the following passage in Churchyard's Dreame, a poem that makes part of the collection entitled his Chippes, 4to. 1578, that this windmill was a place of notoriety: “And from the windmill this dreamd he, “Where hakney horses hired be.” Steevens.

Note return to page 265 9She never could away with me.] This expression of dislike is used by Maurice Kyffin, in his translation of the Andria of Terence, 1588: “All men that be in love can ill away to have wives appointed them by others.” Perhaps the original meaning was—‘such a one cannot travel on the same road with me.’ Steevens. So, in Harrington's Orlando Furioso, book i.: “&lblank; scarce to look on him she can away.” Malone. This mode of expression had not become obsolete even in the time of Mr. Locke, who himself uses it in one of his popular works: “&lblank; with those alone he converses, and can away with no company whose discourse goes beyond what claret or dissoluteness inspires.” On the Conduct of the Understanding. Reed.

Note return to page 266 1&lblank; bona-roba.] A fine showy wanton. Johnson. Bona-roba was, in our author's time, the common term for a harlot. It is used in that sense by Ben Jonson, in his Every Man out of his Humour, and by many others. Steevens.

Note return to page 267 2&lblank; said I well?] This phrase has already occurred in The Merry Wives of Windsor. See vol. viii. p. 34, n. l. Steevens.

Note return to page 268 3&lblank; the chimes at midnight,] So, in the second part of an ancient song entitled A Bill of Fare, &c. bl. l.: “We rose from our mirth with the twelve o'clock chimes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 269 4&lblank; here is four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you.] This is an anachronism; there were no coins of ten shillings value in the reign of Henry the Fourth. Shakspeare's Harry ten shillings were those of Henry the Seventh or Eighth; but he thought those might do for any other Henry. Douce.

Note return to page 270 4I have three pound &lblank;] Here seems to be a wrong computation. He had forty shillings for each. Perhaps he meant to conceal part of the profit. Johnson.

Note return to page 271 5&lblank; For you, Mouldy, stay at home still; you are past service:] The old copies read—“For you, Mouldy, stay at home till you are past service.” Steevens. This should surely be: “For you, Mouldy, you have staied at home,” &c. Falstaff has before a similar allusion: “'Tis the more time thou wert used.” There is some mistake in the number of recruits: Shallow says, that Falstaff should have four there, but he appears to get but three: Wart, Shadow, and Feeble.” Farmer. See p. 125, n. 7. I believe, “stay at home till you are past service” is right; the subsequent part of the sentence being likewise imperative: “and, for your part, Bull-calf, grow till you come unto it.” Malone. Perhaps this passage should be read and pointed thus: “For you, Mouldy, stay at home still; you are past service &lblank;.” Tyrwhitt. I have admitted Mr. Tyrwhitt's amendment, as it is the least violent of the two proposed, being effected by a slight change in punctuation, and the supplement of a single letter. Steevens.

Note return to page 272 6&lblank; the thewes,] i. e. the muscular strength or appearance of manhood. So, again: “For nature crescent, does not grow alone “In thewes and bulk.” In ancient writers this term usually implies manners, or behaviour only. Spenser often employs it; and I find it likewise in Gascoigne's Glass of Government, 1575: “And honour'd more than bees of better thewes.” Shakspeare is perhaps singular in his application of it to the perfections of the body. The following passage, however, in Turberville's translation of Ovid's Epistle from Paris to Helen, leaves the question undecided: “What doost thou thinke indeede   “that doltish silly man “The thewes of Helen's passing forme   “may judge or throughly scan?” Steevens.

Note return to page 273 7&lblank; assemblance of a man!] Thus the old copies. The modern editors read—assemblage. Steevens.

Note return to page 274 8&lblank; swifter than he that gibbets-on the brewer's bucket.] Swifter than he that carries beer from the vat to the barrel, in buckets hung upon a gibbet or beam crossing his shoulders. Johnson. I do not think Johnson's explanation of this passage just.— The carrying beer from the vat to the barrel, must be a matter that requires more labour than swiftness. Falstaff seems to mean, “swifter than he that puts the buckets on the gibbet;” for as the buckets at each end of the gibbet must be put on at the same instant, it necessarily requires a quick motion. M. Mason.

Note return to page 275 9&lblank; foeman &lblank;] This is an obsolete term for an enemy in war. Steevens. So, in Selimus, 1594: “For he that never saw his foeman's face, “But alwaies slept upon a ladies lap,” &c. Henderson.

Note return to page 276 1&lblank; caliver &lblank;] A hand-gun. Johnson. So, in The Masque of Flowers, 1613: “The serjeant of Kawasha carried on his shoulders a great tobacco-pipe as big as a caliver.” It is singular that Shakspeare, who has so often derived his sources of merriment from recent customs or fashionable follies, should not once have mentioned tobacco, though at a time when all his contemporaries were active in its praise or its condemnation. It is equally remarkable (as Dr. Farmer observes to me) that he has written no lines on the death of any poetical friend, nor commendatory verses on any living author, which was the constant practice of Jonson, Fletcher, &c. Perhaps the singular modesty of Shakspeare hindered him from attempting to decide on the merits of others, while his liberal turn of mind forbade him to express such gross and indiscriminate praises as too often disgrace the names of many of his contemporaries. Our author, indeed, seems to condemn this practice, through a sentiment given to Rosaline, in Love's Labour's Lost, where, speaking of the Princess, she says: “My lady (to the manner of these days) “In courtesy, gives undeserving praise.” Steevens. Mr. Grose, in A Treatise on ancient Armour and Weapons, 4to. p, 67, says: “That a caliver was less and lighter than a musquet, as is evident from its being fired without a rest. This is shown in a Military Treatise, containing the Exercise of the Musket, Caliver, and Pike, with figures finely engraved by J. de Gheyn.” And, in a note in loc. Mr. Grose also observes, “That this is confirmed by Shakspeare, where Falstaff, reviewing his recruits, says of Wart, a poor, weak, undersized fellow, ‘put me a caliver into Wart's hands,’—meaning, that although Wart is unfit for a musqueteer, yet, if armed with a lighter piece, he may do good service.” Vaillant. The accent of this word was laid on the second syllable. So, in Withers's Abuses Whipt and Stript: “Both musquet and caliver are forgot.” Malone.

Note return to page 277 2&lblank; travers &lblank;] An ancient term in military exercise. So, in Othello: “Traverse; go; provide thy money.” Steevens.

Note return to page 278 3&lblank; bald shot.] Shot is used for shooter, one who is to fight by shooting. Johnson. So, in The Exercise of Armes for Calivres, Muskettes, and Pykes, 1619: “First of all is in this figure showed to every shot how he shall stand and marche, and carry his caliver,” &c. With this instance I was furnished by Dr. Farmer. We still say of a skilful sportsman or game-keeper that he is a good shot. Steevens. Again, in Stowe's Annales, 1631: “&lblank; men with armour, ensignes, drums, fifes, and other furniture for the wars, the greater part whereof were shot, and other were pikes and halberts, in faire corslets.” Malone.

Note return to page 279 4&lblank; Mile-end green,] We learn from Stowe's Chronicle, (edit. 1615, p. 702,) that in the year 1585, 4000 citizens were trained and exercised at Mile-end. It appears, however, that the pupils of this military school were but slightly thought of; for, in Barnabie Riche's Souldiers Wishe, to Britons Welfare, or Captaine Skill and Captaine Pill, 1604, is the following passage: “Skill. God blesse me, my countrey, and frendes, from his direction that hath no better experience than what hee hath atteyned unto at the fetching home of a Maye-pole, at a Midsomer sighte, or from a trayning at Mile-end-greene.” Steevens. From the same Chronicle, p. 789, edit. 1631, it appears that “thirty thousand citizens—shewed on the 27th of August, 1599, on the Miles-end, where they trained all that day, and other dayes, under their captaines, (also citizens,) until the 4th of September.” Malone.

Note return to page 280 5I remember at Mile-end green, (when I lay at Clement's-inn,] “When I lay,” here signifies, when I lodged or lived. So Leland: “An old manor place where in tymes paste sum of the Moulbrays lay for a starte;” i. e. lived for a time, or sometimes. Itin. vol. i. fol. 119. T. Warton. Again, in Maston's What You Will, a comedy, 1607: “Survey'd with wonder by me, when I lay “Factor in London.” Malone.

Note return to page 281 6&lblank; I was then sir Dagonet in Arthur's show,] The story of Sir Dagonet is to be found in La Morte d'Arthure, an old romance much celebrated in our author's time, or a little before it. “When papistry (says Ascham, in his Schoolmaster,) as a standing pool, overflowed all England, few books were read in our tongue, saving certaine books of chivalry, as they said, for pastime and pleasure; which books, as some say, were made in monasteries by idle monks. As one for example La Mort d'Arthure.” In this romance Sir Dagonet is King Arthur's fool. Shakspeare would not have shown his justice capable of representing any higher character. Johnson. Sir Dagonet is King Arthur's 'squire; but does he mean that he acted Sir Dagonet at Mile-end Green, or at Clement's-inn? By the application of a parenthesis only, the passage will be cleared from ambiguity, and the sense I would assign will appear to be just.—“I remember at Mile-end Green (when I lay at Clement's-inn, I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show) there was,” &c. That is: “I remember when I was a very young man at Clement's-inn, and not fit to act any higher part than Sir Dagonet in the interludes which we used to play in the society, that among the soldiers who were exercised at Mile-end Green, there was,” &c. The performance of this part of Sir Dagonet was another of Shallow's feats at Clement's-inn, on which he delights to expatiate; a circumstance, in the mean time, quite foreign to the purpose of what he is saying, but introduced, on that account, to heighten the ridicule of his character. Just as he had told Silence, a little before, that he saw Scogan's head broke by Falstaff at the court-gate, “and the very same day, I did fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's-inn.” Not to mention the satire implied in making Shallow act Sir Dagonet, who was King Arthur's fool. Arthur's show, here supposed to have been presented at Clement's-inn, was probably an interlude, or masque, which actually existed, and was very popular in Shakspeare's age: and seems to have been compiled from Mallory's Morte Arthur, or the History of King Arthur, then recently published, and the favourite and most fashionable romance. That “Mile-end Green” was the place for public sports and exercises, we learn from Froissart. Theobald remarks on this passage: “The only intelligence I have gleaned of this worthy knight (Sir Dagonet) is from Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Knight of the Burning Pestle.” The commentators on Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle have not observed that the design of that play is founded upon a comedy called The Four Prentices of London, with the Conquest of Jerusalem; as it hath been diverse Times acted at the Red Bull, by the Queen's Majesty's Servants. Written by Thomas Heywood, 1613. For as in Beaumont and Fletcher's play, a grocer in the Strand turns knight-errant, making his apprentice his 'squire, &c. so in Heywood's play, four apprentices accoutre themselves as knights, and go to Jerusalem in quest of adventures. One of them, the most important character, is a goldsmith, another a grocer, another a mercer, and a fourth an haberdasher. But Beaumont and Fletcher's play, though founded upon it, contains many satirical strokes against Heywood's comedy, the force of which are entirely lost to those who have not seen that comedy. Thus, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Prologue, or first scene, a citizen is introduced, declaring that, in the play, he “will have a grocer, and he shall do admirable things.” Again, Act I. Sc. I. Rafe says: “Amongst all the worthy books of achievements, I do not call to mind that I have yet read of a grocer-errant: I will be the said knight. Have you heard of any that hath wandered unfurnished of his 'squire and dwarf? My elder brother Tim shall be my trusty 'squire, and George my dwarf.” In the following passage the allusion to Heywood's comedy is demonstrably manifest, Act IV. Sc. I.: “Boy. It will show ill-favouredly to have a grocer's prentice court a king's daughter. “Cit. Will it so, sir? You are well read in histories; I pray you who was Sir Dagonet? Was he not prentice to a grocer in London? Read the play of The Four Prentices, where they toss their pikes so.” In Heywood's comedy, Eustace, the grocer's prentice, is introduced, courting the daughter of the king of France; and in the frontispiece the four prentices are represented in armour, tilting with javelins. Immediately before the last quoted speeches we have the following instances of allusion: “Cit. Let the Sophy of Persia come, and christen him a child.” “Boy. Believe me, sir, that will not do so well; 'tis flat; it has been before at the Red Bull.” A circumstance in Heywood's comedy, which, as has been already specified, was acted at the Red Bull. Beaumont and Fletcher's play is pure burlesque. Heywood's is a mixture of the droll and serious, and was evidently intended to ridicule the reigning fashion of reading romances. T. Warton. This account of the matter was so reasonable, that I believe every reader must have been satisfied with it; but a passage in a forgotten book, which has been obligingly communicated to me by the Reverend Mr. Bowle, induces me to think that the words before us have hitherto been misunderstood; that Arthur's Show was not an interlude, but an Exhibition of Archery; and that Shallow represented Sir Dagonet, not at Clement's Inn, but at Mile-end Green. Instead therefore of placing the words “I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show,” in a parenthesis, (as recommended very properly by Mr. Warton on his hypothesis,) I have included in a parenthesis the words “when I lay at Clement's Inn.” And thus the meaning is,—I remember, when I was student and resided at Clement's Inn, that on a certain exhibition-day at Mile-end Green, when I was Sir Dagonet, &c. “A society of men, (I now use the words of Mr. Bowle,) styling themselves Arthur's Knights, existed in our poet's time. Richard Mulcaster, Master of St. Paul's School, in his Positions concerning the training up of Children, twice printed in London, 1581 and 1587, in 4to. (my copy wants the title,) ch. xxvi. in praising of Archerie as a principal exercise to the preservation of health, says,—‘how can I but prayse them, who professe it thoroughly, and maintaine it nobly, the friendly and frank fellowship of Prince Arthur's Knights, in and about the citie of London? which if I had sacred to silence, would not my good friend in the citie, Maister Hewgh Offly, and the same my noble fellow in that order, Syr Launcelot, at our next meeting have given me a soure nodde, being the chief furtherer of the fact which I commend, and the famousest knight of the fellowship which I am of? Nay, would not even Prince Arthur himselfe, Maister Thomas Smith, and the whole table of those well known knights, and most active archers, have laid in their challenge against their fellow-knight, if speaking of their pastime I should have spared their names?’ This quotation (adds Mr. Bowle) rescues three of them from oblivion; and it is not to be presumed that the whole table of these well known knights, most probably pretty numerous, could escape the knowledge of Shakspeare.—Maister Hewgh Offly was sheriff of London in 1588.” The passage above quoted places Shallow's words in so clear a light that they leave me little to add upon the subject. We see that though he is apt enough to introduce frivolous and foreign circumstances, the mention of Sir Dagonet here, is not of that nature, Mile-end Green being probably the place where Arthur's knights displayed their skill in archery, or, in other words, where Arthur's show was exhibited. Whether this fellowship existed in the reign of Henry IV. is very unnecessary to enquire. We see in almost every one of his plays how little scrupulous Shakspeare was in ascribing the customs of his own time to preceding ages. It may perhaps be objected, that the “little quiver fellow,” afterwards mentioned, is not described as an archer, but as managing a piece; but various exercises might have been practised at the same time at Mile-end Green. If, however, this objection should appear to the reader of any weight, by extending the parenthesis to the words—“Arthur's Show,” it is obviated; for Shallow might have resided at Clement's Inn, and displayed his feats of archery in Arthur's show elsewhere, not on the day here alluded to. The meaning will then be, I remember when I resided at Clement's Inn, and in the exhibition of archery made by Arthur's knights I used to represent Sir Dagonet, that among the soldiers exercised at Mile-end Green, there was, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 282 7&lblank; a little quiver fellow,] Quiver is nimble, active, &c. “There is a maner fishe that hyght mugill, which is full quiver and swifte.” Bartholomeus, 1535, bl. l. Henderson.

Note return to page 283 8&lblank; about Turnbull-street;] In an old comedy called Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, this street is mentioned again: “You swaggering, cheating, Turnbull-street rogue.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady: “Here has been such a hurry, such a din, such dismal drinking, swearing, &c. we have all lived in a perpetual Turnbull-street.” Nash, in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication, commends the sisters of Turnbull-street to the patronage of the Devil. Again, in The Inner Temple Masque, by Middleton, 1619: “'Tis in your charge to pull down bawdy-houses, “&lblank; cause spoil in Shoreditch, “And deface Turnbull.” Again, in Middleton's comedy, called Any Thing for a Quiet Life, a French bawd says: “J'ay une fille qui parle un peu François; elle conversera avec vous, a la Fleur de Lys, en Turnbull-street.” Turnbull or Turnmill-street, is near Cow-cross, West Smithfield. The continuator of Stowe's Annals informs us that West Smithfield, (at present the horse-market,) was formerly called Ruffian's Hall, where turbulent fellows met to try their skill at sword and buckler. Steevens.

Note return to page 284 9&lblank; were invincible:] That is, could not be mastered by any thick sight. Mr. Rowe and the other modern editors read, invisible. Malone. Invincible cannot possibly be the true reading; invincible to, not being English; for whoever wrote or said—not be conquered to? Invincible by is the usual phrase; though Shakspeare, in Much Ado About Nothing, makes Don Pedro say, “I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection;” a sufficient proof that he would not have written “invincible to a thick sight.” Steevens. We have already had in these plays—guilty to self wrong, interest to the state, and a multitude of other instances of phraseology which seem strange to us now. See the Essay on Shakspeare's Phraseology. Malone. Let us apply Mr. Steevens's process of translation to invisible, i. e. cannot be seen to, and it will be equally objectionable. The fact is, these verbal adjectives will admit of either conjunction. An object is perceived by, but it is perceptible either by or to the sight. We are wounded by something; but Coriolanus, vol. xiv. p. 209, wishes that his son may prove to shame invulnerable. Boswell.

Note return to page 285 1&lblank; call'd him—mandrake:] This appellation will be somewhat illustrated by the following passage in Caltha Poetarum, or the Bumble Bee, composed by T. Cutwode, Esquyre, 1599. This book was commanded by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London to be burnt at Stationers' Hall in the 41st year of Queen Elizabeth: “Upon the place and ground where Caltha grew,   “A mightie mandrag there did Venus plant; “An object for faire Primula to view,   “Resembling man from thighs unto the shank,” &c. The rest of the description might prove yet further explanatory; but on some subjects silence is less reprehensible than information. In the age of Shakspeare, however, (as I learn from Thomas Lupton's Third Booke of Notable Thinges, 4to. bl. l.) it was customary “to make counterfeat mandrag, which is sold by deceyuers for much money.” Out of the great double root of briony (by means of a process not worth transcribing) they produced the kind of priapic idol to which Shallow has been compared. Steevens. Bullein, in his Bullwark of Defence against all Sicknesse, &c. fol. 1597, p. 41, speaking of mandrake, says: “&lblank; this hearbe is called also anthropomorphos, because it beareth the image of a man; and that is false. For no herbe hath the shape of a man or woman; no truly, it is not naturall of his owne growing: but by the crafty invention of some false men it is done by arte.”—“My friend Marcellus, the description of this mandrake, as I have sayd, was nothing but the imposterous subtility of wicked people. Perhaps of fryers or supersticious monkes whych have wrytten thereof at length; but as for Dioscorides, Galen, and Plinie, &c. they have not wrytten thereof so largely as for to have head, armes, fyngers,” &c. Reed. See a former scene of this play, p. 24, n. 9; and Sir Thomas Brown's Vulgar Errors, p. 72, edit. 1686. Malone.

Note return to page 286 2&lblank; over-scutched &lblank;] That is, whipt, carted. Pope. I rather think that the word means dirty or grimed. The word huswives agrees better with this sense. Shallow crept into mean houses, and boasted his accomplishments to dirty women. Johnson. Ray, among his north country words, says that an over-switched huswife is a strumpet. Over-scutched has undoubtedly the meaning which Mr. Pope has affixed to it. Over-scutched is the same as over-scotched. A scutch or scotch is a cut or lash with a rod or whip. Steevens. The following passage in Maroccus Extaticus, or Bankes' Bay Horse in a Traunce, 4to. 1595, inclines me to believe that this word is used in a wanton sense: “The leacherous landlord hath his wench at his commandment, and is content to take ware for his money; his private scutcherie hurts not the common-wealth farther than that his whoore shall have a house rent-free.” Malone.

Note return to page 287 3&lblank; fancies, or his good-nights.] Fancies and Good-nights were the titles of little poems. One of Gascoigne's Good-nights is published among his Flowers. Steevens.

Note return to page 288 4And now is this Vice's dagger &lblank;] By Vice here the poet means that droll character in the old plays (which I have several times mentioned in the course of these notes) equipped with asses ears and a wooden dagger. It was very satirical in Falstaff to compare Shallow's activity and impertinence to such a machine as a wooden dagger in the hands and management of a buffoon. Theobald. See vol. xi. p. 479, n. 9. Steevens. Vice was the name given to a droll figure, heretofore much shown upon our stage, and brought in to play the fool and make sport for the populace. His dress was always a long jerkin, a fool's cap with ass's ears, and a thin wooden dagger, such as is still retained in the modern figures of Harlequin and Scaramouch. Minsheu, and others of our more modern criticks, strain hard to find out the etymology of the word, and fetch it from the Greek: probably we need look no further for it than the old French word Vis, which signified the same as Visage does now. From this in part came Visdase, a word common among them for a fool, which Menage says is but a corruption from Vis d'asne, the face or head of an ass. It may be imagined therefore that Visdase, or Vis d'asne, was the name first given to this foolish theatrical figure, and that by vulgar use it was shortened to plain Vis or Vice. Hanmer. The word Vice is an abbreviation of Device; for in our old dramatick shows, where he was first exhibited, he was nothing more than an artificial figure, a puppet moved by machinery, and then originally called a Device or Vice. In these representations he was a constant and the most popular character, afterwards adopted into the early comedy. The smith's machine called a vice, is an abbreviation of the same sort.—Hamlet calls his uncle “a vice of kings,” a fantastick and factitious image of majesty, a mere puppet of royalty. See Jonson's Alchymist, Act I. Sc. III.: “And on your stall a puppet with a vice.” T. Warton. To each of the proposed etymologies of Vice in the note there seem to be solid objections. Hanmer's derivation from the French visdase, is unsupported by any thing like authority. This word occurs in no ancient French writer as a theatrical character, and has only been used by modern ones in the sense of ass or fool, and then probably by corruption; there being good reason to suppose that it was originally a very obscene expression. It is seldom, if ever, that an English term is made up from a French one, unless the thing itself so expressed be likewise borrowed; and it is certain that in the old French moralities and comedies there is no character similar to the Vice. Mr. Warton says it is an abbreviation of device, because in the old dramatical shows this character was nothing more than a puppet moved by machinery, and then originally called a device. But where is the proof of these assertions, and why should one puppet in particular be termed a device? As to what he states concerning the name of the smith's machine, the answer is, that it is immediately derived from the French vis, a screw, and neither probably from device; for the machine in question is not more a device than many other mechanical contrivances. Mr. Warton has likewise informed us that the vice had appeared as a puppet before he was introduced into the early comedies; but it would be no easy task to maintain such an opinion. Nor is it by any means clear that Hamlet, in calling his uncle a vice, means to compare him to a puppet or factitious image of majesty; but rather simply to a buffoon, or, as he afterwards expresses it, a king of shreds and patches. The puppet shows had, probably, kings as well as vices in their dramas; and Hamlet might as well have called his uncle at once, a puppet king. What Mr. Steevens has said on this subject in a note to Twelfth Night, vol. xi. p. 479, deserves a little more consideration. He states, but without having favoured us with proof, that the vice was always acted in a mask; herein probably recollecting that of the modern Harlequin, the illegitimate successor to the old vice. But the mask of the former could have nothing to do with that of the latter, if he really wore any. Admitting however that he might, it is improbable that he should take his name from such a circumstance; and even then, it would be unnecessary to resort, with Mr. Steevens, to the French word vis, which, by the bye, never signified a mask, when our own visard, i. e. a covering for the visage, would have suited much better. A successful investigation of the origin and peculiarities of this singular theatrical personage would be a subject of extreme curiosity. The etymology of the word itself is all that we have here to attend to; and when the vicious qualities annexed to the names of the above character in our old dramas, together with the mischievous nature of his general conduct and deportment, be considered, there will scarcely remain a doubt that the word in question must be taken in its literal and common acceptation. It may be worth while just to state some of these curious appellations, such as shift, ambidexter, sin, fraud, vanity, covetousness, iniquity, prodigality, infidelity, inclination; and many others that are either entirely lost, or still lurk amidst the impenetrable stores of our ancient dramatick compositions. Douce.

Note return to page 289 5&lblank; he burst his head,] Thus the folio and quarto. The modern editors read broke. To break and to burst were, in our poet's time, synonymously used. Thus Ben Jonson, in his Poetaster, translates the following passage in Horace: &lblank; fracta pereuntes cuspide Gallos. “The lances burst in Gallia's slaughter'd forces.” So, in The Old Legend of Sir Bevis of Hampton: “But syr Bevis so hard him thrust, that his shoulder-bone he burst.” Again, in The Second Part of Tamburlaine, 1590: “Whose chariot wheels have burst th' Assyrian's bones.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 809: “that manie a speare was burst, and manie a great stripe given.” To brast had the same meaning. Barrett, in his Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, calls a housebreaker “a breaker and braster of doors.” The same author constantly uses burst as synonymous to broken. See vol. v. p. 358, n. 5. Steevens.

Note return to page 290 6&lblank; beat his own name:] That is, beat gaunt, a fellow so slender, that his name might have been gaunt. Johnson.

Note return to page 291 *Quartos, thrust.

Note return to page 292 7&lblank; philosopher's two stones &lblank;] One of which was an universal medicine, and the other a transmuter of base metals into gold. Warburton. I believe the commentator has refined this passage too much. A philosopher's two stones is only more than the philosopher's stone. The universal medicine was never, so far as I know, conceived to be a stone before the time of Butler's stone. Johnson. Mr. Edwards ridicules Dr. Warburton's note on this passage, but without reason. Gower has a chapter in his Confessio Amantis, “Of the three stones that philosophres made:” and Chaucer, in his tale of the Chanon's Yeman, expressly tells us, that one of them is Alixar cleped; and that it is a water made of the four elements. Face, in the Alchymist, assures us, it is “a stone, and not a stone.” Farmer. That the ingredients of which this Elixir, or Universal Medicine, was composed, were by no means difficult of acquisition, may be proved by the following conclusion of a letter written by Villiers Duke of Buckingham to King James I. on the subject of the Philosopher's Stone. See the second volume of Royal Letters in the British Museum, No. 6987, art. 101: “&lblank; I confess, so longe as he conseled the meanes he wrought by, I dispised all he said: but when he tould me, that which he hath given your sovrainship to preserve you from all sicknes ever hereafter, was extracted out of a t&wblank;d, I admired the fellow; and for theis reasons: that being a stranger to you, yett he had found out the kind you are come of, and your natural affections and apetis: and so, like a skillful man, hath given you natural fisicke, which is the onlie meanes to preserve the radicall hmrs: and thus I conclude: My sow is healthfull, my divill's luckie, myself is happie, and needs no more than your blessing, which is my trew Felosophers stone, upon which I build as upon a rocke: “Your Majesties most humble slave and doge “Stinie.” The following passage in Churchyard's Commendation to them that can make Gold, &c. 1593, will sufficiently prove that the Elixir was supposed to be a stone before the time of Butler: “&lblank; much matter may you read “Of this rich art that thousands hold full deere: “Remundus too, that long liud heere indeede, “Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare, “Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleere, “A stone for health. Arnolde wrate of the same, “And many more that were too long to name.” Again, in the Dedication of The Metamorphosis of Pigmalion's Image and certaine Satyres, 1598: “Or like that rare and rich Elixar stone, “Can turne to gold leaden invention.” Steevens. I think Dr. Johnson's explanation of this passage is the true one: “I will make him of twice the value of the philosopher's stone.” Malone.

Note return to page 293 8&lblank; if the young dace &lblank;] That is, if the pike may prey upon the dace, if it be the law of nature that the stronger may seize upon the weaker, Falstaff may, with great propriety, devour Shallow. Johnson.

Note return to page 294 9'Tis Gualtree forest,] “The earle of Westmoreland, &c. made forward against the rebels, and coming into a plaine, within Galtree forest, caused their standards to be pitched down in like sort as the archbishop had pitched his, over against them.” Holinshed, p. 529. Steevens.

Note return to page 295 1Let us sway on,] I know not that I have ever seen sway in this sense; but I believe it is the true word, and was intended to express the uniform and forcible motion of a compact body. There is a sense of the noun in Milton kindred to this, where, speaking of a weighty sword, he says, “It descends with huge two-handed sway.” Johnson. The word is used in Holinshed, English History, p. 986: “The left side of the enemy was compelled to sway a good way back, and give ground,” &c. Again, in King Henry VI. Part III. Act II. Sc. V.: “Now sways it this way, like a mightie sea, “Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind; “Now sways it that way,” &c. Again, in King Henry V.: “Rather swaying more upon our part,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 296 2&lblank; well-appointed leader &lblank;] Well-appointed is completely accoutred. So, in The Miseries of Queen Margaret, by Drayton: “Ten thousand valiant, well-appointed men.” Again, in The Ordinary, by Cartwright: “&lblank; Naked piety “Dares more, than fury well-appointed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 297 3Led on by bloody youth,] I believe Shakspeare wrote— heady youth. Warburton. Bloody youth is only sanguine youth, or youth full of blood, and of those passions which blood is supposed to incite or nourish. Johnson. So, The Merry Wives of Windsor; “Lust is but a bloody fire.” Malone.

Note return to page 298 4&lblank; guarded with rage,] Guarded is an expression taken from dress; it means the same as faced, turned up. Mr. Pope, who has been followed by succeeding editors, reads goaded. Guarded is the reading both of quarto and folio. Shakspeare uses the same expression in the former part of this play: “Velvet guards and Sunday citizens,” &c. Again, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; Give him a livery “More guarded than his fellows.” Steevens. Mr. Steevens is certainly right. We have the same allusion in a former part of this play: “To face the garment of rebellion “With some fine colour, that may please the eye “Of fickle changelings,” &c. So again, in the speech before us: “&lblank; to dress the ugly form “Of base and bloody insurrection &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 299 5&lblank; so appear'd,] Old copies—so appear. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 300 6Whose see is by a civil peace maintained;] Civil is grave, decent, solemn. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; Come civil night, “Thou sober-suited matron, all in black.” Steevens.

Note return to page 301 7Whose white investments figure innocence,] Formerly, (says Dr. Hody, History of Convocations, p. 141,) all bishops wore white, even when they travelled. Grey. By comparing this passage with another in p. 91, of Dr. Grey's notes, we learn that the white investment meant the episcopal rochet; and this should be worn by the theatrick archbishop. Tollet.

Note return to page 302 8&lblank; graves,] For graves Dr. Warburton very plausibly reads glaives, and is followed by Sir Thomas Hanmer. Johnson. We might perhaps as plausibly read greaves, i. e. armour for the legs, a kind of boots. In one of The Discourses on the Art Military, written by Sir John Smythe, Knight, 1586, greaves are mentioned as necessary to be worn; and Ben Jonson employs the same word in his Hymenæi: “&lblank; upon their legs they wore silver greaves.” Again, in The Four Prentices of London, 1615: “Arm'd with their greaves and maces.” Again, in the second Canto of The Barons Wars, by Drayton: “Marching in greaves, a helmet on her head.” Warner, in his Albion's England, 1602, b. xii. ch. lxix. spells the word as it is found in the old copies of Shakspeare: “The taishes, cushes, and the graves, staff, pensell, baises, all.” I know not whether it be worth adding, that the ideal metamorphosis of leathern covers of books into greaves, i. e. boots, seems to be more apposite than the conversion of them into instruments of war. Mr. M. Mason, however, adduces a quotation (from the next scene) which seems to support Dr. Warburton's conjecture: “Turning the word to sword, and life to death.” Steevens. The emendation, or rather interpretation, proposed by Mr. Steevens, appears to me extremely probable; yet a following line, in which the Archbishop's again addressed, may be urged in favour of glaives, i. e. swords: “Chearing a rout of rebels with your drum, “Turning the word to sword, and life to death.” The latter part of the second of these lines, however, may be adduced in support of graves in its ordinary sense. Mr. Steevens observes, that “the metamorphosis of the leathern covers of books into greaves, i. e. boots, seems to be more apposite than the conversion of them into such instruments of war as glaives;” but surely Shakspeare did not mean, if he wrote either greaves or glaives, that they actually made boots or swords of their books, any more than that they made lances of their pens. The passage already quoted, “turning the word to sword,” sufficiently proves that he had no such meaning. Malone. I am afraid that the expression “turning the word to sword,” will be found but a feeble support for “glaives,” if it be considered as a mere jeu de mots. Douce.

Note return to page 303 9&lblank; our griefs &lblank;] i. e. our grievances. See vol. xvi. p. 374, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 304 1And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere &lblank;] In former editions: “And are enforc'd from our most quiet there.” This is said in answer to Westmoreland's upbraiding the Archbishop for engaging in a course which so ill became his profession; “&lblank; you, my lord archbishop, “Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd,” &c. So that the reply must be this: “And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere.” Warburton. The alteration of Dr. Warburton destroys the sense of the passage. There refers to the new channel which the rapidity of the flood from the stream of time would force itself into. Henley.

Note return to page 305 2We are denied access &lblank;] The Archbishop says, in Holinshed: “Where he and his companie were in armes, it was for feare of the king, to whom he could have no free accesse, by reason of such a multitude of flatterers, as were about him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 306 3Of every minute's instance,] The examples of an instance does not convey, to me at least, a very clear idea. The frequent corruptions that occur in the old copies in words of this kind, make me suspect that our author wrote: “Of every minute's instants &lblank;.” i. e. the examples furnished not only every minute, but during the most minute division of a minute.—Instance, however, is elsewhere used by Shakspeare for example; and he has similar pleonasms in other places. Malone. “Examples of every minute's instance” are, I believe, examples which every minute supplies, which every minute presses on our notice. Steevens.

Note return to page 307 4Not to break peace,] “He took nothing in hand against the king's peace, but that whatsoever he did, tended rather to advance the peace and quiet of the commonwealth.” Archbishop's speech in Holinshed. Steevens.

Note return to page 308 5And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?] It was an old custom, continued from the time of the first croisades, for the Pope to consecrate the general's sword, which was employed in the service of the church. To this custom the line in question alludes. Warburton. “&lblank; commotion's bitter edge?” i. e. the edge of bitter strife and commotion; the sword of rebellion. So, in a subsequent scene; “That the united vessel of their blood.” instead of— “The vessel of their united blood.” Malone. This line is omitted in the folio. Boswell.

Note return to page 309 6My brother general, &c. &lblank; I make my quarrel in particular.] The sense is this— “My brother general, the commonwealth, which ought to distribute its benefits equally, is become an enemy to those of his own house, to brothers born, by giving some to all, and others none; and this (says he) I make my quarrel or grievance that honours are unequally distributed;” the constant birth of male-contents, and the source of civil commotions. Warburton. In the first folio the second line is omitted, yet that reading, unintelligible as it is, has been followed by Sir T. Hanmer. How difficulty sense can be drawn from the best reading, the explication of Dr. Warburton may show. I believe there is an error in the first line, which, perhaps, may be rectified thus: “My quarrel general, the commonwealth, “To brother born an household cruelty, “I make my quarrel in particular.” That is, my general cause of discontent is public mismanagement; my particular cause, a domestick injury done to my natural brother, who had been beheaded by the king's order. Johnson. This circumstance is mentioned in the First Part of the play: “The Archbishop—who bears hard “His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop.” Steevens. The meaning of the passage appears to me to be this—“My brother-general (meaning Mowbray, the lord Marischal) makes the misconduct of publick affairs, and the welfare of the community, his cause of quarrel; but my particular cause of quarrel, is a family injury, the cruelty with which my real brother has been treated;” meaning Lord Scroop. M. Mason. Perhaps the meaning is—“My brother-general, who is joined here with me in command, makes the commonwealth his quarrel, i. e. has taken up arms on account of publick grievances; a particular injury done to my own brother, is my ground of quarrel.” I have, however, very little confidence in this interpretation. I have supposed the word general a substantive; but probably it is used as an adjective, and the meaning may be, I consider the wrongs done to the commonwealth, the common brother of us all, and the particular and domestick cruelty exercised against my natural brother, as a sufficient ground for taking up arms.—If the former be the true interpretation, perhaps a semicolon should be placed after commonwealth. The word born in the subsequent line [“To brother born”] seems strongly to countenance the supposition that general in the present line is an epithet applied to brother, and not a substantive. In that which is apparently the first of the two quartos, the second line is found; but is omitted in the other, and the folio. I suspect that a line has been lost following the word commonwealth: the sense of which was—“is the general ground of our taking up arms.” This supposition renders the whole passage so clear, that I am now decidedly of opinion that a line has been lost. “My general brother, the commonwealth, is the general ground of our taking up arms; a wrong of a domestic nature, namely the cruelty shewn to my natural brother, is my particular ground for engaging in this war.” Malone. It is now become certain that there are three varieties of the quarto editions, 1600, of this play. They are all before me, and in two of them (only one of which contains the additional scene at the beginning of the third Act) the second line, pointed out by Mr. Malone, is wanting. Steevens. It is wanting in Mr. Malone's copy of the quarto B. Boswell.

Note return to page 310 7O my good lord Mowbray, &c.] The thirty-seven lines following are not in the quarto. Malone.

Note return to page 311 8Construe the times to their necessities,] That is,—Judge of what is done in these times according to the exigencies that overrule us. Johnson.

Note return to page 312 9Either from the king, &c.] Whether the faults of government be imputed to the time or the king, it appears not that you have, for your part, been injured either by the king or the time. Johnson.

Note return to page 313 1To build a grief on:] i. e. a grievance. Malone.

Note return to page 314 2Was, force perforce,] Old copy—“Was forc'd.” Corrected by Mr. Theobald. In a subsequent scene we have the same words: “As, force perforce, the age will put it in.” Malone.

Note return to page 315 3And then, when &lblank;] The old copies read—“And then, that &lblank;.” Corrected by Mr. Pope. Mr. Rowe reads—“And when that &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 316 4Their armed staves in charge, &c.] An armed staff is a lance. To be in charge, is to be fixed in the rest for the encounter. Johnson.

Note return to page 317 5&lblank; their beavers down,] Beaver, it has been already observed in a former note, (see vol. xvi. p. 364, n. 5,) meant properly that part of the helmet which let down, to enable the wearer to drink; but is confounded both here and in Hamlet with visiere, or used for helmet in general. Shakspeare, however, is not answerable for any confusion on this subject. He used the word beaver in the same sense in which it was used by all his contemporaries. Malone. See Mr. Douce's note, vol. xvi. p. 429. Boswell.

Note return to page 318 6&lblank; sights of steel,] i. e. the perforated part of their helmets, through which they could see to direct their aim. Visiere, Fr. Steevens.

Note return to page 319 7The earl of Hereford &lblank;] This is a mistake of our author's. He was Duke of Hereford. See King Richard II. Malone.

Note return to page 320 8And bless'd, and grac'd indeed, more than the king.] The two oldest folios, (which first gave us this speech of Westmoreland,) read this line thus: “And bless'd and grac'd and did more than the king.” Dr. Thirlby reformed the text very near to the traces of the corrupted reading. Theobald.

Note return to page 321 9Then reason wills,] The old copy has will. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Perhaps we ought rather to read—“Then reason well &lblank;.” The same mistake has, I think, happened in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Malone. The sense is clear without alteration. Reason wills—is, reason determines, directs. Steevens.

Note return to page 322 1That is intended in the general's name:] That is, this power is included in the name or office of a general. We wonder that you can ask a question so trifling. Johnson. Intended—is understood, i. e. meant without expressing, like entendu, Fr. subauditur, Lat. Steevens.

Note return to page 323 2&lblank; substantial form;] That is, by a pardon of due form and legal validity. Johnson.

Note return to page 324 3To us, and to our purposes, consign'd;] The old copies—confin'd. Steevens. This schedule we see consists of three parts: 1. A redress of general grievances. 2. A pardon for those in arms. 3. Some demands of advantage for them. But this third part is very strangely expressed. “And present execution of our wills “To us, and to our purposes, confin'd.” The first line shows they had something to demand, and the second expresses the modesty of that demand. The demand, says the speaker, “is confined to us and to our purposes.” A very modest kind of restriction truly! only as extensive as their appetites and passions. Without question Shakspeare wrote— “To us and to our properties confin'd;” i. e. we desire no more than security for our liberties and properties: and this was no unreasonable demand. Warburton. This passage is so obscure that I know not what to make of it. Nothing better occurs to me than to read consign'd for confin'd. That is, let the execution of our demands be put into our hands, according to our declared purposes. Johnson. Perhaps we should read [with Sir Thomas Hanmer] confirm'd. This would obviate every difficulty. Steevens. I believe two lines are out of place. I read: “For this contains our general grievances, “And present execution of our wills; “To us and to our purposes confin'd.” Farmer. The present reading appears to me to be right; and what they demand is, a speedy execution of their wills, so far as they relate to themselves, and to the grievances which they proposed to redress. M. Mason. The quarto has—confin'd. In my copy of the first folio, the word appears to be consin'd. The types used in that edition were so worn, that f and s [Subnote: In the source text a long s appears here.] are scarcely distinguishable. But however it may have been printed, I am persuaded that the true reading is consign'd; that is, sealed, ratified, confirmed; a Latin sense: “auctoritate consignatæ literæ &lblank;. Cicero pro Cluentio.” It has this signification again in this play: “And (God consigning to my good intents) “No prince nor peer,” &c. Again, in King Henry V.: “And take with you free power to ratify, “Augment or alter, as your wisdoms best “Shall see advantageable for our dignity, “Any thing in or out of our demands; “And we'll consign thereto.” Again, ibid.: “It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to &lblank;.” Confin'd, in my apprehension, is unintelligible. Supposing these copies to have been made by the ear, and one to have transcribed while another read, the mistake might easily have happened, for consign'd and consin'd are, in sound, undistinguishable; and when the compositor found the latter word in the manuscript, he would naturally print confin'd, instead of a word that has no existence. Dr. Johnson proposed the reading that I have adopted, but explains the word differently. The examples above quoted show, I think, that the explication of this word already given is the true one. Malone. Though I have followed Mr. Malone's example by admitting Dr. Johnson's conjecture, the notes of various commentators are left before the reader, to whose judgment they are submitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 325 4We come within our awful banks again,] Awful banks are the proper limits of reverence. Johnson. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “From the society of awful men.” Steevens. It is also used in the same sense in Pericles: “A better prince and benign lord— “Prove awful both in deed and word.” M. Mason. Dr. Warburton reads lawful. We have awful in the last Act of this play: “To pluck down justice from her awful bench.” Here it certainly means inspiring awe. If awful banks be right, the words must mean due and orderly limits. Malone.

Note return to page 326 5And either &lblank;] The old copies read—“At either,” &c. That easy, but certain, change in the text, I owe to Dr. Thirlby. Theobald.

Note return to page 327 6&lblank; consist upon.] Thus the old copies. Modern editors—insist. Steevens. Perhaps the meaning is, as our conditions shall stand upon, shall make the foundation of the treaty. A Latin sense. So, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “Then welcome peace, if he on peace consist.” See also p. 153: “Of what conditions we shall stand upon.” Malone.

Note return to page 328 7&lblank; nice,] i. e. trivial. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “The letter was not nice, but full of charge.” Steevens.

Note return to page 329 8That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,] If royal faith can mean faith to a king, it yet cannot mean it without much violence done to the language. I therefore read, with Sir T. Hanmer, loyal faiths, which is proper, natural, and suitable to the intention or the speaker. Johnson. Royal faith, the original reading, is undoubtedly right. Royal faith [as Mr. Capell observes] means, the faith due to a king. So, in King Henry VIII.: “The citizens have shown at full their royal minds;” i. e. their minds well affected to the king. Wolsey, in the same play, when he discovers the king in masquerade, says, “here I'll make my royal choice,” i. e. not such a choice as a king would make, but such a choice as has a king for its object. So royal faith, the faith which is due to a king; which has the sovereign for its object. Malone. This reading is judiciously restored, and well supported by Mr. Malone. Steevens.

Note return to page 330 9Of dainty and such picking grievances:] I cannot but think that this line is corrupted, and that we should read: “Of picking out such dainty grievances.” Johnson. Picking means piddling, insignificant. Steevens.

Note return to page 331 1&lblank; wipe his tables clean:] Alluding to a table-book of slate, ivory, &c. Warburton.

Note return to page 332 2&lblank; an iron man,] Holinshed says of the Archbishop, that “coming foorth amongst them clad in armour, he incouraged and pricked them foorth to take the enterprise in hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 333 3Turning the word to sword, &c.] A similar thought occurs in Gower's Confessio Amantis, 1554: “Into the sworde the churche kaye “Is turned, and the holy bede,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 334 4&lblank; the imagin'd voice of God himself;] The old copies, by an apparent error of the press, have—“the imagine voice.” Mr. Pope introduced the reading of the text. Perhaps Shakspeare wrote— “To us, the image and voice,” &c. So, in a subsequent scene: “And he, the noble image of my youth.” Malone. I cannot persuade myself to reject a harmonious reading, that another eminently harsh may supply its place. Steevens.

Note return to page 335 5&lblank; the sanctities of heaven,] This expression Milton has copied: “Around him all the sanctities of heaven “Stood thick as stars.” Johnson.

Note return to page 336 6&lblank; workings:] i. e. labours of thought. So, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; the forge and working-house of thought.” Steevens.

Note return to page 337 7You have taken up,] To take up is to levy, to raise in arms. Johnson.

Note return to page 338 8&lblank; in common sense,] I believe Shakspeare wrote common fence, i. e. drove by self-defence. Warburton. Common sense is the general sense of general danger. Johnson. May not common sense here mean, according to the dictates of reason? M. Mason.

Note return to page 339 9Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep,] Alluding to the dragon charmed to rest by the spells of Medea. Steevens.

Note return to page 340 1And so success of mischief &lblank;] Success for succession. Warburton.

Note return to page 341 2&lblank; and do allow &lblank;] i. e. approve. So, in King Lear, Act II. Sc. IV.: “&lblank; if your sweet sway “Allow obedience.” Malone.

Note return to page 342 3Discharge your powers &lblank;] It was Westmoreland who made this deceitful proposal, as appears from Holinshed: “The earl of Westmoreland using more policie than the rest, said, whereas our people have been long in armour, let them depart home to their woonted trades: in the meane time let us drink togither in signe of agreement, that the people on both sides may see it, and know that it is true, that we be light at a point.” Steevens.

Note return to page 343 4Against ill chances, men are ever merry;] Thus the poet describes Romeo, as feeling an unaccustomed degree of cheerfulness just before he hears the news of the death of Juliet. Steevens.

Note return to page 344 5Therefore be merry, coz;] That is—Therefore, notwithstanding this sudden impulse to heaviness, be merry, for such sudden dejections forbode good. Johnson.

Note return to page 345 6&lblank; let our trains, &c.] That is, our army on each part, that we may both see those that were to have opposed us. Johnson. We ought, perhaps, to read—“your trains.” The Prince knew his own strength sufficiently, and only wanted to be acquainted with that of the enemy. The plural, trains, however, seems in favour of the old reading. Malone. The Prince was desirous to see their train, and therefore, under pretext of affording them a similar gratification, proposed that both trains should pass in review. Steevens.

Note return to page 346 7I promis'd you redress of these same grievances,] Surely the two redundant words—these same, should be omitted, for the sake of metre. They are undoubted interpolations. Steevens.

Note return to page 347 *Quartos omit and such acts as yours.

Note return to page 348 8Fondly brought here, &c.] Fondly is foolishly. So, in Lord Surrey's translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “What wight so fond such offer to refuse?” Steevens.

Note return to page 349 9Exeunt.] It cannot but raise some indignation to find this horrid violation of faith passed over thus slightly by the poet, without any note of censure or detestation. Johnson. Shakspeare, here, as in many other places, has merely followed the historians, who related this perfidious act without animadversion, and who seem to have adopted the ungenerous sentiment of Chorœbus: &lblank; dolus an virtus, quis in hoste requirat? But this is certainly no excuse; for it is the duty of a poet always to take the side of virtue. Malone.

Note return to page 350 1&lblank; Colevile of the dale.] “At the king's coming to Durham, the Lord Hastings, sir John Colevile of the dale, &c. being convicted of the conspiracy, were there beheaded.” Holinshed, p. 530. Steevens. But it is not clear that Hastings or Colevile was taken prisoner in this battle. See Rot. Parl. 7 and 8 Henry IV. p. 604. Ritson. The above quotation has not been appositely made by Mr. Steevens. It appears very soon afterwards in this scene that Colevile and his confederates were sent by prince John to York to be beheaded. It is to be observed that there are two accounts of the termination of the archbishop of York's conspiracy, both of which are given by Holinshed, who likewise states that on the archbishop and the earl marshal's submission to the king and to his son prince John, there present, “their troupes skaled and fledde their wayes, but being pursued, many were taken, many slain, &c. the archbishop and earl marshal were brought to Pomfret to the king, who from thence went to Yorke whyther the prisoners were also brought and there beheaded.” It is this account that Shakspeare has followed, but with some variation; for the names of Hastings and Colevile are not mentioned among those who were so beheaded at York. Mr. Ritson says it is not clear that Hastings and Colevile were taken prisoners in this battle; meaning, it is presumed, the skirmishes with “the scattered stray” whom prince John had ordered to be pursued, including Hastings and Colevile. It is however quite clear from the testimony of the parliament rolls, that they were taken prisoners in their flight from Topcliffe, on the borders of Galtre forest, where they had made head against the king's army, and were dispersed by prince John and the earl of Westmoreland. Douce.

Note return to page 351 2&lblank; and the dungeon your place,—a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.] But where is the wit or the logick of this conclusion? I am almost persuaded that we ought to read thus: “&lblank; Colevile shall still be your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a dale deep enough &lblank;.” He may then justly infer, “&lblank; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.” Tyrwhitt. The sense of dale is included in deep; a dale is a deep place; a dungeon is a deep place; he that is in a dungeon may be therefore said to be in a dale. Johnson.

Note return to page 352 3The heat is past,] That is, the violence of resentment, the eagerness of revenge. Johnson.

Note return to page 353 4&lblank; the hook-nosed fellow of Rome,] The quarto reads— “the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, their cosin.” I have followed the folio. Some of the modern editors read, but without authority— “the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, there, Cæsar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 354 5&lblank; cinders of the element,] A ludicrous term for the stars. Steevens.

Note return to page 355 6&lblank; Colevile?] From the present seeming deficiency in the structure of this and the two subsequent lines containing Colevile's name, and from the manner in which it is repeatedly spelt in the old copies, viz. Collevile, I suspect it was designed to be pronounced as a trisyllable. Steevens.

Note return to page 356 *Quartos, gavest thyself away gratis.

Note return to page 357 †Quartos omit pray.

Note return to page 358 7&lblank; stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.] We must either read, pray let me stand, or, by a construction somewhat harsh, understand it thus: “Give me leave to go—and— stand &lblank;.” To “stand in a report,” referred to the reporter, is to persist; and Falstaff did not ask the prince to persist in his present opinion. Johnson. “Stand my good lord,” I believe, means only “stand my good friend,” (an expression still in common use,) in your favourable report of me. So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “I pray you, stand good father to me now.” Again, in King Lear: “&lblank; conjuring the moon “To stand his auspicious mistress.” Mr. M. Mason observes that the same phrase occurs in Ben Jonson's Case is altered, where Onion says to Chamont: “Monsieur Chamont, stand you my honour'd Sir.” Steevens. Mr. Steevens is certainly right. In a former scene of this play, the Hostess says to the Chief Justice, “good my lord, be good unto me; I beseech you, stand to me.” Though an equivoque may have been there intended, yet one of the senses conveyed by this expression in that place is the same as here. Again, more appositely, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; his gracious nature “Would think upon you for your voices,— “Standing your friendly lord.” Again, in The Spanish Tragedy: “&lblank; What would he with us?— “He writes us here— “To stand good lord, and help him in distress.” Malone. Stand is here the imperative word, as give is before. “Stand my good lord,” i. e. be my good patron and benefactor. “Be my good lord” was the old court phrase used by a person who asked a favour of a man of high rank. So, in a Letter to the Earl of Northumberland, (printed in the Appendix to The Northumberland Houshold Book,) he desires that Cardinal Wolsey would so far “be his good lord,” as to empower him to imprison a person who had defrauded him. Percy.

Note return to page 359 8&lblank; I, in my condition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve.] I know not well the meaning of the word condition in this place; I believe it is the same with temper of mind: I shall, in my good nature, speak better of you than you merit. Johnson. I believe it means, “I, in my condition,” i. e. in my place as commanding officer, who ought to represent things merely as they are, shall speak of you better than you deserve. So, in The Tempest, Ferdinand says: “&lblank; I am, in my condition, “A prince, Miranda &lblank;.” Dr. Johnson's explanation, however, seems to be countenanced by Gower's address to Pistol, in King Henry V. Act V. Sc. I.: “&lblank; let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition.” Steevens.

Note return to page 360 9&lblank; your dukedom.] He had no dukedom. See vol. xvi. p. 178. Ritson.

Note return to page 361 1&lblank; this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh;] Falstaff here speaks like a veteran in life. The young prince did not love him, and he despaired to gain his affection, for he could not make him laugh. Men only become friends by community of pleasures. He who cannot be softened into gaiety, cannot easily be melted into kindness. Johnson.

Note return to page 362 2&lblank; to any proof:] i. e. any confirmed state of manhood. The allusion is to armour hardened till it abides a certain trial. So, in King Richard II.: “Add proof unto my armour with thy prayers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 363 3&lblank; sherris-sack &lblank;] This liquor is mentioned in The Captain, by Beaumont and Fletcher. Steevens. The epithet sherry or sherris, when added to sack, merely denoted the particular part of Spain from whence it came. See Minsheu's Spanish Dictionary, 1617: “Xêres, or Xerès, oppidum Bœticæ, i. e. Andalusiæ, prope Cadiz, unde nomen vini de Xeres. A. [Anglice] Xeres sacke.” Sherris-Sack was therefore what we now denominate Sherry. The sack to which this epithet was not annexed, came chiefly from Malaga. Cole, who in 1679 renders sack, vinum Hispanicum, renders Sherry-Sack, by Vinum Eseritanum; and Ainsworth, by Vinum Andalusianum. See a former note, vol. xvi. p. 200, n. 2. Malone. What is ludicrously advanced by Falstaff, was the serious doctrine of the School of Salernum: “Heere observe that the witte of a man hath a strong braine, is clarified and sharpened more, if hee drinke good wine, than if he dranke none, as Auicen sayth. And the cause why, is by reason that of good wine (more than of any other drinkes) are engendered and multiplyed subtile spirits, cleane and pure. And this is the cause also why the divines, that imagine and study upon high and subtile matters, love to drinke good wines: and after the opinion of Auicen, These wines are good for men of cold and flegmaticke complexion; for such wines redresse and amend the coldnesse of complexion, and they open the opilations and stoppings that are wont to be ingendred in such persons, and they digest phlegme, and they help nature to convert and turne them into blood, they lightly digest, and convert quickly, they increase and greatly quicken the spirits.” The School of Salernes' Regiment of Health, p. 33, 1634. Holt White. Of this work there were several earlier translations, &c. one of these was printed by Berthelet, in 1541. Steevens. We have equally strong testimonies in favour of good wine from some of our learned countrymen. I have two treatises on this subject, one, The Tree of Humane Life, or The Bloud of the Grape, &c. by Thomas Whitaker, Doctor in Physick of London, 1638. He observes that Noah lived twenty years beyond Adam, which he attributes to his having “tasted Nectar from that plant from which Adam was excluded, I mean an inferiour species of that tree of life.” The other is entitled &grP;&grE;&grR;&grI; &grY;&grU;&grX;&grR;&grO;&grP;&grO;&grS;&grI;&grA;&grST;, of drinking water, against our novellists that prescribed it in England, by Richard Short, of Bury, Doctor of Physick, 1656. He is not a little angry at the water drinkers, and asks if we may not as well feed upon acorns. Boswell.

Note return to page 364 4It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the—crudy vapours &lblank;] This use of the pronoun is a familiar redundancy among our old writers. So Latimer, p. 91: “Here cometh me now these holy fathers from their counsels.”—“There was one wiser than the rest, and he comes me to the bishop.” Edit. 1575, p. 75. Bowle.

Note return to page 365 5&lblank; apprehensive,] i. e. quick to understand. So, in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1608: “Thou'rt a mad apprehensive knave.” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “You are too quick, too apprehensive.” In this sense it is now almost disused. Steevens.

Note return to page 366 6&lblank; forgetive,] Forgetive from forge; inventive, imaginative. Johnson.

Note return to page 367 *Folio, his retinue.

Note return to page 368 7&lblank; kept by a devil;] It was anciently supposed that all the mines of gold, &c. were guarded by evil spirits. So, in Certaine Secrete Wonders of Nature, &c. bl. l. by Edward Fenton, 1569: “There appeare at this day many strange visions and wicked spirites in the metal-mines of the Greate Turke &lblank;.” “In the mine at Anneburg was a mettal sprite which killed twelve workemen; the same causing the rest to forsake the myne, albeit it was very riche.” P. 91. Steevens.

Note return to page 369 8&lblank; till sack commences it,] I believe, till sack gives it a beginning, brings it into action. Mr. Heath would read commerces it. Steevens. It seems probable to me, that Shakspeare, in these words, alludes to the Cambridge Commencement; and in what follows to the Oxford Act: for by those different names our two universities have long distinguished the season, at which each of them gives to her respective students a complete authority to use those hoards of learning which have entitled them to their several degrees in arts, law, physick, and divinity. Tyrwhitt. So, in The Roaring Girl, 1611: “Then he is held a freshman and a sot, “And never shall commence.” Again, in Pasquil's Jests, or Mother Bunch's Merriment, 1604: “A doctor that was newly commenst at Cambridge,” &c. Again, in Have With You to Saffron Walden, or Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is Up, 1596: “Commence, commence, I admonish thee; thy merits are ripe for it, and there have been doctors of thy facultie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 370 9&lblank; to forswear thin potations,] In the preference given by Falstaff to sack, our author seems to have spoken the sentiments of his own time. In the Ordinances of the Household of King James I. dated in 1604, (the second year of his reign,) is the following article: “And whereas in times past Spanish wines called sacke, were little or no whit used in our court, and that in late yeares, though not of ordinary allowance, &c.—we understanding that it is used as comon drinke and served at meales, as an ordinary to every meane officer, contrary to all order, using it rather for wantonesse and surfeiting, than for necessity, to a great wastefull expence,” &c. Till the above mentioned period, the “thin potations” complained of by Falstaff, had been the common beverage. See the Collection of Ordinances and Regulations for the Government of the Royal Household, &c. published by the Antiquary Society, 4to. 1790. The ancient and genuine Sherry was a dry wine, and therefore fit to be drank with sugar. What we now use is in some degree sweetened by art, and therefore affords no adequate idea of the liquor that was Falstaff's favourite. Steevens.

Note return to page 371 1&lblank; I have him already tempering, &c.] A very pleasant allusion to the old use of sealing with soft wax. Warburton. This custom is likewise alluded to in Any Thing for a quiet Life, 1662, a comedy, by Middleton: “You must temper him like wax, or he'll not seal.” Again, in Your Five Gallants, by Middleton, no date: “Fetch a pennyworth of soft wax to seal letters.” Again, in Chaucer's Marchante's Tale, v. 9304: “Right as men may warm wax with handes plie.” Steevens. In our poet's Venus and Adonis, there is an allusion to the same custom: “What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering, “And yields at last to every light impression?” Malone.

Note return to page 372 2Our navy is address'd,] i. e. Our navy is ready, prepared. So, in King Henry V.: “To-morrow for our march are we address'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 373 3&lblank; if he be observ'd;] i. e. if he has respectful attention shown to him. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “Follow'd her with doting observance.” Steevens.

Note return to page 374 4He hath a tear for pity, and a hand, &c.] So, in our author's Lover's Complaint: “His qualities were beauteous as his form, “For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free; “Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm “As oft 'twixt May and April is to see, “When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.” Malone.

Note return to page 375 5&lblank; humorous as winter,] That is, changeable as the weather of a winter's day. Dryden says of Almanzor, that he is humorous as wind. Johnson. So, in The Spanish Tragedy, 1607: “You know that women oft are humourous.” Again, in Cynthia's Revels, by Ben Jonson: “&lblank; a nymph of a most wandering and giddy disposition, humourous as the air,” &c. Again, in The Silent Woman: “&lblank; as proud as May, and as humourous as April.” Steevens. “As humorous as April” is sufficiently clear. So, in Heywood's Challenge for Beauty, 1636: “I am as full of humours as an April day of variety;” but a winter's day has generally too decided a character to admit Dr. Johnson's interpretation, without some licence: a licence which yet our author has perhaps taken. He may, however, have used the word humorous equivocally. He abounds in capricious fancies, as winter abounds in moisture. Malone.

Note return to page 376 6&lblank; congealed in the spring of day.] Alluding to the opinion of some philosophers, that the vapours being congealed in the air by cold, (which is most intense towards the morning,) and being afterwards rarified and let loose by the warmth of the sun, occasion those sudden and impetuous gusts of wind which are called flaws. Warburton. So, Ben Jonson, in The Case is Alter'd: “Still wrack'd with winds more foul and contrary “Than any northern gust or southern flaw.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “And saw a dreadful southern flaw at hand.” Chapman uses the word in his translation of Homer; and, I believe, Milton has it in the same sense. Steevens. Our author and his contemporaries frequently use the word flaw for a sudden gust of wind; but a gust of wind congealed is, I confess, to me unintelligible. Mr. Edwards says, that “flaws are small blades of ice which are struck on the edges of the water in winter mornings.” Malone. Flaw in Scotch, is a storm of snow. See Jamieson's Dictionary in voce. Boswell.

Note return to page 377 7Mingled with venom of suggestion,] Though their blood be inflamed by the temptations to which youth is peculiarly subject. See vol. iv. p. 60, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 378 8As aconitum,] The old writers employ the Latin word instead of the English one, which we now use. So, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “&lblank; till from the foam “The dog belch'd forth, strong aconitum sprung.” Again: “With aconitum that in Tartar springs.” Steevens.

Note return to page 379 9&lblank; rash gunpowder,] Rash is quick, violent, sudden. This representation of the prince is a natural picture of a young man, whose passions are yet too strong for his virtues. Johnson.

Note return to page 380 1&lblank; his affections &lblank;] His passions; his inordinate desires. Johnson.

Note return to page 381 2But to be known, and hated.] A parallel passage occurs in Terence: &lblank; quo modo adolescentulus Meretricum ingenia et mores posset noscere, Mature ut cum cognorit, perpetuo oderit. Anonymous.

Note return to page 382 3'Tis seldom, when the bee, &c.] As the bee having once placed her comb in a carcase, stays by her honey, so he that has once taken pleasure in bad company, will continue to associate with those that have the art of pleasing him. Johnson.

Note return to page 383 4&lblank; in his particular.] We should read, I think—“in this particular;” that is, ‘in this detail, in this account,’ which is minute and distinct. Johnson. His is used for its, very frequently in the old plays. The modern editors have too often made the change; but it should be remembered, (as Dr. Johnson has elsewhere observed,) that by repeated changes the history of a language will be lost. Steevens. It may certainly have been used so here, as in almost every other page of our author. Mr. Henley, however, observes, that “his particular” may mean ‘the detail contained in the letter of Prince John. “A Particular” is yet used as a substantive, by legal conveyancers, ‘for a minute detail of things singly enumerated.’ Malone.

Note return to page 384 5Hath wrought the mure, &c.] i. e. the wall. Pope. Wrought it thin, is made it thin by gradual detriment. Wrought is the preterite of work. Mure is a word used by Heywood, in his Brazen Age, 1613: “'Till I have scal'd these mures, invaded Troy.” Again, in his Golden Age, 1611: “Girt with a triple mure of shining brass.” Again, in his Iron Age, 2d Part, 1632: “Through mures and counter-mures of men and steel.” Again, in Dyonese Settle's Last Voyage of Capteine Frobisher, 12mo. bl. l. 1577: “&lblank; the streightes seemed to be shut up with a long mure of yce &lblank;.” The same thought occurs in Daniel's Civil Wars, &c. book iv. Daniel is likewise speaking of the sickness of King Henry IV.: “As that the walls worn thin, permit the mind “To look out thorow, and his frailtie find.” The first edition of Daniel's poem is dated earlier than this play of Shakspeare. Waller has the same thought: “The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, “Let's in new light thro' chinks that time has made.” Steevens. On this passage the elegant and learned Bishop of Worcester has the following criticism: “At times we find him (the imitator) practising a different art; not merely spreading as it were and laying open the same sentiment, but adding to it, and by a new and studied device improving upon it. In this case we naturally conclude that the refinement had not been made, if the plain and simple thought had not preceded and given rise to it. You will apprehend my meaning by what follows. Shakspeare had said of Henry the Fourth: “‘The incessant care and labour of his mind “‘Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in, “‘So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.’ “You have here the thought in its first simplicity. It was not unnatural, after speaking of the body as a case or tenement of the soul, the mure that confines it, to say, that as that case wears away and grows thin, life looks through, and is ready to break out.” After quoting the lines of Daniel, who, (it is observed,) “by refining on this sentiment, if by nothing else, shews himself to be the copyist,” the very learned writer adds,—“here we see, not simply that life is going to break through the infirm and much-worn habitation, but that the mind looks through, and finds his frailty, that it discovers that life will soon make his escape.— Daniel's improvement then looks like the artifice of a man that would outdo his master. Though he fails in the attempt; for his ingenuity betrays him into a false thought. The mind, looking through, does not find its own frailty, but the frailty of the building it inhabits.” Hurd's Dissertation on the Marks of Imitation. This ingenious criticism, the general principles of which cannot be controverted, shows, however, how dangerous it is to suffer the mind to be led too far by an hypothesis:—for after all, there is very good reason to believe that Shakspeare, and not Daniel, was the imitator. The Dissention between the Houses of Yorke and Lancaster, in verse, penned by Samuel Daniel, was entered on the Stationers' books, by Simon Waterson, in October, 1594, and four books of his work were printed in 1595. The lines quoted by Mr. Steevens are from the edition of The Civil Wars, in 1609. Daniel made many changes in his poems in every new edition. In the original edition in 1595, the verses run thus; book iii. st. 116: “Wearing the wall so thin, that now the mind “Might well look thorough, and his frailty find.” His is used for its, and refers not to mind, (as is supposed above,) but to wall.—There is no reason to believe that this play was written before 1594, and it is highly probable that Shakspeare had read Daniel's poem before he sat down to compose these historical dramas. Malone.

Note return to page 385 6The people fear me;] i. e. make me afraid. Warburton. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; this aspéct of mine “Hath fear'd the valiant.” Steevens.

Note return to page 386 7Unfather'd heirs,] That is, equivocal births: animals that had no animal progenitors; productions not brought forth according to the stated laws of generation. Johnson.

Note return to page 387 8The seasons change their manners,] This is finely expressed; alluding to the terms of rough and harsh, mild and soft, applied to weather. Warburton.

Note return to page 388 9&lblank; as the year &lblank;] i. e. as if the year, &c. So, in Cymbeline: “He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, “And she alone were cold.” In the subsequent line our author seems to have been thinking of leap-year. Malone.

Note return to page 389 1The river hath thrice flow'd.] This is historically true. It happened on the 12th of October, 1411. Steevens.

Note return to page 390 2Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper musick to my weary spirit.] So, in the old anonymous King Henry V.: “&lblank; Depart my chamber, “And cause some musick to rock me asleep.” Steevens. “Unless some dull and favourable hand &lblank;.” Dull signifies melancholy, gentle, soothing. Johnson. I believe it rather means producing dullness or heaviness; and consequently sleep. It appears from various parts of our author's works, that he thought musick contributed to produce sleep. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; musick call, and strike more dead “Than common sleep, of all these five the sense.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods “Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.” So also in The Tempest, Act I. when Alonzo, Gonzalo, &c. are to be overpowered by sleep, Ariel, to produce this effect, enters, “playing solemn musick.” Malone. This notion is not peculiar to Shakspeare. So, in the exquisite lines by Strode in Commendation of Musick: “Oh, lull me, lull me, charming air,   “My senses rocked with wonder sweet! “Like snow on wool thy fallings are,   “Soft, like a spirit, are thy feet.     “Grief who need fear,     “That hath an ear?     “Down let him lie,     “And slumbering die, “And change his soul for harmony.” Boswell.

Note return to page 391 3Set me the crown upon my pillow here.] It is still the custom in France to place the crown on the King's pillow, when he is dying. Holinshed, p. 541, speaking of the death of King Henry IV. says: “During this his last sicknesse, he caused his crowne, (as some write,) to be set on a pillow at his bed's head, and suddenlie his pangs so sore troubled him, that he laie as though all his vitall spirits had beene from his departed. Such as were about him, thinking verelie that he had beene departed, covered his face with a linnen cloth. “The prince his sonne being hereof advertised, entered into the chamber, tooke awaie the crowne and departed. The father being suddenlie revived out of that trance, quicklie perceived the lacke of his crowne; and having knowledge that the prince his sonne had taken it awaie, caused him to come before his presence, requiring of him what he meant so to misuse himselfe. The prince with a good audacitie answered; Sir, to mine and all men's judgements you seemed dead in this world, and therefore I as your next heire apparant tooke that as mine owne, and not as yours. Well, faire sonne, (said the kinge with a great sigh,) what right I had to it, God knoweth. Well (said the prince) if you die king, I will have the garland, and trust to keepe it with the sword against all mine enemies, as you have doone,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 392 4Tell it him, He alter'd much upon the hearing it,] For the sake of metre, I would read— “Tell 't him. “He alter'd much in hearing it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 393 5&lblank; the ports of slumber &lblank;] Are the gates of slumber. So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; Our uncharged ports.” Again, in Ben Jonson's 80th Epigram: “&lblank; The ports of death are sins &lblank;.” Ports is the ancient military term for gates. Steevens. The word is yet used in this sense in Scotland. Malone.

Note return to page 394 6&lblank; homely biggin bound,] A kind of cap, at present worn only by children; but so called from the cap worn by the Beguines, an order of nuns. So, in Monsieur Thomas, by Beaumont and Fletcher, 1639: “&lblank; were the devil sick now, “His horns saw'd off, and his head bound with a biggin.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Volpone: “Get you a biggin more, your brain breaks loose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 395 7&lblank; this golden rigol &lblank;] Rigol means a circle. I know not that it is used by any author but Shakspeare, who introduces it likewise in his Rape of Lucrece: “About the mourning and congealed face “Of that black blood, a watry rigol goes.” Steevens. We meet with ringol, which was perhaps the right spelling of the word, in Nashe's Lenten Stuffe: “What needs there any more ambages, the ringoll or ringed circle was compast and chakt out.” Malone.

Note return to page 396 *Folio omits He is not here.

Note return to page 397 †Folio, sleeps.

Note return to page 398 8&lblank; with thoughts,] Concerning the education and promotion of their children. So, afterwards: “For this they have been thoughtful to invest “Their sons with arts,” &c. Mr. Rowe and the subsequent editors read—with thought; but the change does not appear to me necessary. Malone.

Note return to page 399 9&lblank; tolling from every flower &lblank;] This speech has been cortracted, dilated, and put to every critical torture, in order to force it within the bounds of metre, and prevent the admission of hemistichs. I have restored it without alteration, but with those breaks which appeared to others as imperfections. The reading of the quarto is tolling. The folio reads culling. Tolling is taking toll. Steevens.

Note return to page 400 1Our thighs pack'd &lblank;] Mr. Capell reads—“Packing our thighs &lblank;.” Boswell.

Note return to page 401 2Yield his engrossments &lblank;] His accumulations. Johnson.

Note return to page 402 3&lblank; determin'd &lblank;] i. e. ended; it is still used in this sense in legal conveyances. Reed. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; as it [the hailstone] determines, so “Dissolves my life.” Steevens.

Note return to page 403 4&lblank; seal'd up my expectation:] Thou hast confirmed my opinion. Johnson.

Note return to page 404 5&lblank; half an hour of my life.] It should be remembered that Shakspeare uses a few words alternately as monosyllables and dissyllables. Mr. Rowe, whose ear was accustomed to the utmost harmony of numbers, and who, at the same time, appears to have been little acquainted with our poet's manner, first added the word frail to supply the syllable which he conceived to be wanting. The quarto writes the word hower, as it was anciently pronounced. So, Ben Jonson, in The Case is Alter'd, 1609: “By twice so many howers as would fill “The circle of a year.” The reader will find many more instances in the soliloquy of King Henry VI. Part III. Act II. Sc. V. The other editors [except Mr. Malone] have followed Mr. Rowe. Steevens.

Note return to page 405 6England shall double gild his treble guilt;] Evidently the nonsense of some foolish player: for we must make a difference between what Shakspeare might be supposed to have written off hand, and what he had corrected. These scenes are of the latter kind; therefore such lines are by no means to be esteemed his. But, except Mr. Pope, (who judiciously threw out this line,) not one of Shakspeare's editors seem ever to have had so reasonable and necessary a rule in their heads, when they set upon correcting this author. Warburton. I know not why this commentator should speak with so much confidence what he cannot know, or determine so positively what so capricious a writer as our poet might either deliberately or wantonly produce. This line is, indeed, such as disgraces a few that precede and follow it, but it suits well enough with the daggers hid in thought, and whetted on thy stony heart; and the answer which the Prince makes, and which is applauded [by the King] for wisdom, is not of a strain much higher than this ejected line. Johnson. How much this play on words, faulty as it is, was admired in the age of Shakspeare, appears from the most ancient writers of that time having frequently indulged themselves in it. So, in Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 1617: “And as amidst the enamour'd waves he swims, “The god of gold a purpose guilt his limbs; “That, this word guilt including double sense, “The double guilt of his incontinence “Might be express'd.” Again, in Acolastus his Afterwit, a poem, by S. Nicholson, 1600: “O sacred thirst of golde, what canst thou not?— “Some terms thee gylt, that every soule might reade, “Even in thy name, thy guilt is great indeede.” See also vol. xi. p. 109, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 406 7&lblank; when riot is thy care?] i. e. Curator. A bold figure. So Eumæus is styled by Ovid, Epist. I.: &lblank; immundæ cura fidelis haræ. Tyrwhitt. One cannot help wishing Mr. Tyrwhitt's elegant explanation to be true; yet I doubt whether the poet meant to say more than— What wilt thou do, when riot is thy regular business and occupation? Malone.

Note return to page 407 8Which my most true, &c.] True is loyal.—This passage is obscure in the construction, though the general meaning is clear enough. The order is, “this obedience which is taught this exterior bending by my duteous spirit;” or, “this obedience which teaches this exterior bending to my inwardly duteous spirit.” I know not which is right. Johnson. The former construction appears to me the least exceptionable of the two; but both are extremely harsh, and neither of them, I think, the true construction. Malone. The latter words—“this prostrate and exterior bending”—appear to me to be merely explanatory of the former words—“this obedience.” Suppose the intermediate sentence—“which my most true and inward-duteous spirit teacheth”—to be included in a parenthesis, and the meaning I contend for will be evident. M. Mason. I have adopted Mr. M. Mason's regulation. Steevens. “Which my most true and inward-duteous spirit Teacheth,” i. e. which my loyalty and inward sense of duty prompt me to. The words, “this prostrate and exterior bending,” are, I apprehend, put in apposition with “obedience,” which is used for obeisance. Malone.

Note return to page 408 9&lblank; in med'cine potable:] There has long prevailed an opinion that a solution of gold has great medicinal virtues, and that the incorruptibility of gold might be communicated to the body impregnated with it. Some have pretended to make potable gold, among other frauds practised on credulity. Johnson. So, in the character of the Doctor of Physicke, by Chaucer, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 446: “For gold in phisike is a cordial.” Steevens. That gold may be made potable is certain, notwithstanding Dr. Johnson's incredulity. The process is inserted in the Abbé Guenee's incomparable work, intitled, Lettres de quelques Juifs à M. de Voltaire, 5th edit. vol. i. p. 416, a work which every person unacquainted with it will be glad to be referred to. Henley. See Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, vol. viii. p. 484, edit. 1780. Reed. I have not the Abbé's book to refer to, but I imagine he does not recommend potable gold as a medicine, which is the fraud alluded to by Dr. Johnson. Boswell.

Note return to page 409 1&lblank; soil &lblank;] Is spot, dirt, turpitude, reproach. Johnson.

Note return to page 410 2&lblank; supposed peace:] Counterfeited, imagined, not real. Johnson.

Note return to page 411 3&lblank; all these bold fears,] Fear is here used in the active sense, for that which causes fear. Johnson. “These bold fears” are ‘these audacious terrors.’ To fear is often used by Shakspeare for to fright. Steevens.

Note return to page 412 4Changes the mode:] Mode is the form or state of things. Johnson.

Note return to page 413 5&lblank; for what in me was purchas'd,] Purchased seems to be here used in its legal sense, acquired by a man's own act (perquisitio) as opposed to an acquisition by descent. Malone. Purchased, in this place, does not merely signify acquired, but acquired by unjust and indirect methods. Purchase, in Shakspeare, frequently means stolen goods, or goods dishonestly obtained. M. Mason.

Note return to page 414 6&lblank; successively.] By order of succession. Every usurper snatches a claim of hereditary right as soon as he can. Johnson. See The Speech of his Highness [Richard Cromwell] the Lord Protector, made to both Houses of Parliament, at their first Meeting, on Thursday the 27th of January, 1658: “&lblank; for my own part, being by the providence of God, and the disposition of the law, my father's Successor, and bearing the place in the government that I do,” &c. Harl. Misc. vol. i. p. 21. Malone.

Note return to page 415 7And all thy friends,] Should not we read?— “And all my friends &lblank;.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 416 8&lblank; which to avoid I cut them off;] As this passage stands, the King is advising the Prince to make those persons his friends, whom he has already cut off. We should surely therefore read, “I cut some off,” instead of them. M. Mason.

Note return to page 417 9To lead out many to the Holy Land;] The sense is: “Of those who assisted my usurpation, some I have cut off, and many I intended to lead abroad.” This journey to the Holy Land, of which the King very frequently revives the mention, had two motives, religion and policy. He durst not wear the ill-gotten crown without expiation, but in the act of expiation he contrives to make his wickedness successful. Johnson. I confess, I have no distinct comprehension of the foregoing passage, which is ungrammatical as well as obscure. Dr. Johnson's explanation pre-supposes the existence of such a reading as is since offered by Mr. M. Mason, viz. some instead of them. Steevens.

Note return to page 418 1Lest rest, and lying still, might make them look Too near unto my state.] The expedition that Cæsar meditated against the Parthians, immediately before his death, has been ascribed to the same apprehension which dictated to Henry a journey to the Holy Land: Invidiæ stimulos ergo ut lenire furentis, Et capite insidias, quas maturare quietem Non nescit, Cæsar factis avertere possit, Nec non externo maculas abstergere bello Civiles; cum jam Crassi vindicta perîsset, Debita jamdudum Latio; jussu ille Senatûs, (Ne patrum imminui videatur sacra potestas) Decretoque togæ, mandari Parthica bella Suppliciter petiit. Supplm. Lucani. lib. vii. Malone.

Note return to page 419 2How I came, &c.] This is a true picture of a mind divided between heaven and earth. He prays for the prosperity of guilt while he deprecates its punishment. Johnson.

Note return to page 420 3Laud be to God!—even there my life must end.] “At length he recovered his speech, and understanding and perceiving himselfe in a strange place, which he knew not, he willed to know if the chamber had anie particular name, whereunto answer was made, that it was called Jerusalem. Then said the king; Lauds be given to the Father of heaven, for now I know that I shall die here in this chamber, according to the prophesie of me declared, that I should depart this life in Jerusalem.” Holinshed, p. 541. The same equivocal prediction occurs also in the Orygynale Cronykil of Androw of Wyntown, b. vi. ch. xii. v. 47. Pope Sylvester, having sold himself to the devil for the sake of worldly advancement, was desirous of knowing how long he should live and enjoy it: “The dewil answeryd hym agayne, “That in all ese wythowtyn payne “He suld lyve in prosperytè, “Jerusalem quhill he suld se.” Our Pope soon afterwards was conducted, by the duties of his office, into a church he had never visited before: “Then speryd he, quhat thai oysyd to call “That kyrk. Than thai answeryd all, “Jerusalem in Vy Laterane,” &c. &c. And then the prophecy was completed by his death. Steevens. The same story of Pope Sylvester is told in Lodge's Devil Conjured, where, however, the reader will have the satisfaction to find that his holiness at last outwitted the devil. The following communication was received by Mr. Malone, from the late very learned and excellent Dean of Westminster, nomen mihi semper honoratum. Boswell. Robert Guiscard, king of Sicily, when invading the Greek empire, arrives at Cephallenia, and lying at Cape Ather, is seized with a fever. He asks for water; when his people dispersing about the island to find a spring, one of the inhabitants addresses them: &gros;&grr;&grac;&grt;&gre; &grt;&gra;&gru;&grt;&grh;&grn;&gri; &grt;&grhg;&grn; &grn;&grhc;&grs;&gro;&grn; &grt;&grhg;&grn; &grI;&grq;&graa;&grk;&grh;&grn; &gres;&grn; &gra;&gru;&grt;&grhci; &grp;&grr;&grwa;&grh;&grn; &grp;&groa;&grl;&gri;&grst; &grm;&gre;&grg;&graa;&grl;&grh; &gras;&grn;&grwi;&grk;&gro;&grd;&groa;&grm;&grh;&grt;&gro;, &grI;&gre;&grr;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gra;&grl;&grh;&grm; &grk;&gra;&grl;&gro;&gru;&grm;&grea;&grn;&grh;, &grk;&grasi;&grn; &grt;&grwci; &grx;&grr;&groa;&grn;&grwi; &grhs;&grr;&gre;&gria;&grp;&grw;&grt;&gra;&gri;. &gres;&grn; &gra;&grus;&grt;&grhci; &grp;&grh;&grg;&grhg; &grhs;&grn; &grp;&groa;&grt;&gri;&grm;&gro;&grn; &gres;&grs;&gra;&greg;&gri; &grk;&gra;&gri; &gry;&gru;&grx;&grr;&gro;&grn; &grura;&grd;&grw;&grr; &gras;&grn;&gra;&grd;&gri;&grd;&gro;&gruc;&grs;&gra;. &grT;&gro;&grua;&grt;&grw;&grn; &gror; &grR;&gro;&grm;&grp;&grea;&grr;&grt;&gro;&grst; &gras;&grk;&gro;&grua;&grs;&gra;&grst;, &grd;&grea;&gre;&gri; &grp;&gro;&grl;&grl;&grwci; &grt;&grh;&grn;&gri;&grk;&grac;&gru;&grt;&gra; &grs;&gru;&grn;&gre;&grs;&grx;&grea;&grq;&grh;, &grs;&gru;&grm;&grb;&gra;&grl;&grwg;&grn; &gro;&grusc;&grn; &grt;&grog;&grn; &grA;&grq;&grea;&grr;&gra;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grt;&grhg;&grn; &grp;&groa;&grl;&gri;&grn; &grI;&gre;&grr;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gra;&grl;&grh;&grhg;&grm;, &grt;&grog;&grn; &gres;&grf;&gri;&grs;&grt;&graa;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwci; &grq;&graa;&grn;&gra;&grt;&gro;&grn; &gres;&grp;&gre;&grg;&gria;&grn;&grw;&grs;&grk;&gre;. &grk;&gra;&grig; &grg;&grag;&grr; &grp;&grr;&grog; &grp;&gro;&grl;&grl;&gro;&gruc; &grt;&gri;&grn;&greg;&grst; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwci; &gre;&grm;&gra;&grn;&grt;&grea;&gru;&gro;&grn;&grt;&gro;, &gros;&grp;&groc;&gri;&gra; &gre;&gri;&grwa;&grq;&gra;&grs;&gri;&grn; &gror;&gri; &grk;&groa;&grl;&gra;&grk;&gre;&grst; &grt;&gro;&gric;&grst; &grm;&gre;&grg;&gri;&grs;&grt;&grac;&grs;&gri;&grn; &gre;&gri;&grs;&grh;&grg;&gre;&gric;&grs;&grq;&gra;&gri;,—&grora;&grt;&gri; &grm;&grea;&grx;&grr;&gri; &grt;&gro;&gruc; &grA;&grq;&grea;&grr;&gro;&grst; &gras;&gru;&grt;&gro;&gruc; &grara;&grp;&gra;&grn;&grt;&gra; &grm;&grea;&grl;&grl;&gre;&gri;&grst; &grur;&grp;&gro;&grt;&graa;&grc;&gra;&gri;, &gres;&grk;&gre;&gric;&grq;&gre;&grn; &grd;&greg; &gres;&gri;&grst; &grI;&gre;&grr;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gra;&grl;&grhg;&grm; &gras;&grp;&gre;&grr;&grx;&groa;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grst; &grt;&grwci; &grx;&grr;&gre;&grwg;&grn; &grl;&gre;&gri;&grt;&gro;&gru;&grr;&grg;&grha;&grs;&gre;&gri;&grst;. Anna Comnena. Alexias. lib. vi. p. 162. Ed. Paris, 1658. The date of Robert's death is 1085, of our Henry IV. 1413, and Anna the historian is contemporary with Robert. Gibbon, who mentions Robert's death at Cephallenia, (vol. v. p. 625,) takes no notice of Jerusalem, which I was surprised to find, as it was a circumstance agreeable to his usual way of thinking, both as a classical and a superstitious fact. I think he can hardly have introduced it elsewhere. My Dear Sir, You have here Henry IV. in Greek. You will not wonder at Anna's making out Cephallenia to be Ithaca, when D'Anville can hardly find it out with all his learning. Yet here lived the hero of Homer in arato non inglorius. How a Jerusalem came to have been built in Cephallenia, I shall not attempt to explain; but the holy sepulchre was visited, from devotion or pilgrimage, several centuries before 1085; and temples might consequently have been built in Cephallenia, as well as other Christian countries. A city of Jerusalem seems highly dubious. However, be the fiction what it may, it is previous to Henry IV. and corresponds in almost all its parts. Yours, very truly, Deanery, Feb. 19, 1806. W. Vincent.

Note return to page 421 4By cock and pye,] This adjuration, which seems to have been very popular, is used in Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “By cock and pie and mousefoot.” Again, in Wily Beguiled, 1606: “Now by cock and pie, you never spake a truer word in your life.” Again, in The Two Angry Women of Abïngton, 1599: “Merry go sorry, cock and pie, my hearts.” Cock is only a corruption of the Sacred Name, as appears from many passages in the old interludes, Gammer Gurton's Needle, &c. viz. Cocks-bones, cocks-wounds, by cock's-mother, and some others. Cock's-body, cock's passion, &c. occur in the old morality of Hycke Scorner, and in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Ophelia likewise says: “&lblank; By cock they are to blame.” The pie is a table or rule in the old Roman offices, showing, in a technical way, how to find out the service which is to be read upon each day. Among some “Ordinances, however, made at Eltham, in the reign of King Henry VIII.” we have—“Item that the Pye of coals be abridged to the one halfe that theretofore had been served.” A printing letter of a particular size, called the pica, was probably denominated from the pie, as the brevier, from the breviary, and the primer from the primer. Steevens. What was called The Pie by the clergy before the Reformation, was called by the Greeks &grP;&gri;&grn;&gra;&grc;, or the index. Though the word &grP;&gri;&grn;&gra;&grc; signifies a plank in its original, yet in its metaphorical sense it signifies &grs;&gra;&grn;&grig;&grst; &gres;&grz;&grw;&grg;&grr;&gra;&grf;&grh;&grm;&grea;&grn;&grh;, a painted table or picture: and because indexes or tables of books were formed into square figures, resembling pictures or painters' tables, hung up in a frame, these likewise were called &grP;&gria;&grn;&gra;&grk;&gre;&grst;, or, being marked only with the first letter of the word, &grP;&gri;'s or Pies. All other derivations of the word are manifestly erroneous. In the second preface Concerning the Service of the Church, prefixed to the Common Prayer, this table is mentioned as follows: “Moreover the number and hardness of the rules called the Pie, and the manifold changes,” &c. Ridley. This oath has been supposed to refer to the sacred name, and to that service book of the Romish church which in England, before the Reformation, was denominated a pie: but it is improbable that a volume with which the common people would scarcely be acquainted, and exclusively intended for the use of the clergy, could have suggested a popular adjuration. It will, no doubt, be recollected, that in the days of ancient chivalry it was the practice to make solemn vows or engagements for the performance of some considerable enterprise. This ceremony was usually performed during some grand feast or entertainment, at which a roasted peacock or pheasant, being served up by ladies in a dish of gold or silver, was thus presented to each knight, who then made the particular vow which he had chosen, with great solemnity. When this custom had fallen into disuse, the peacock nevertheless continued to be a favourite dish, and was introduced on the table in a pie, the head, with gilded beak, being proudly elevated above the crust, and the splendid tail expanded. Other birds of smaller value were introduced in the same manner, and the recollection of the old peacock vows might occasion the less serious, or even burlesque, imitation of swearing not only by the bird itself but also by the pie; and hence probably the oath by cock and pie, for the use of which no very old authority can be found. The vow to the peacock had even got into the mouths of such as had no pretensions to knighthood. Thus, in The Merchant's Second Tale, or the History of Beryn, the host is made to say, “I make a vowe to the pecock there shal wake a foul mist.” There is an alehouse sign of the cock and magpie, which seems a corruption of the peacock pie. Although the latter still preserved its genuine appellation of the cock and pie, the magic art of modern painters would not fail to produce a metamorphosis like that which we have witnessed on many other occasions. Douce. “By cock and pie.” Perhaps this is only a ludicrous oath, by the common sign of an alehouse. Here is a sketch from an old one at Bewdley: “By cock and pie and mousefoot,” quoted by Mr. Steevens, looks as if the oath had not so solemn and sacred an origin as he assigns it; but was rather of the nature of those adjurations cited by him, from Decker, in a note in the third Scene of this Act: “By these comfits and carraways,” &c. Blakeway. The following passage in A Catechisme, containing the Summe of Religion, &c. by George Giffard, 1583, will show that this word was not considered as a corruption of the Sacred Name: “Men suppose that they do not offende when they do not sweare falsly; and because they will not take the name of God to abuse it, they sware by small thinges, as by cocke and pye, by the mouse foote, and many other suche like.” Boswell.

Note return to page 422 5I will not excuse you; &c.] The sterility of Justice Shallow's wit is admirably described, in thus making him, by one of the finest strokes of nature, so often vary his phrase, to express one and the same thing, and that the commonest. Warburton.

Note return to page 423 6&lblank; William cook, bid him come hither.] It appears from this instance, as well as many others, that anciently the lower orders of people had no surnames, or, if they had, were only called by the titles of their several professions. The cook of William Canynge, the royal Merchant of Bristol, lies buried there under a flat stone, near the monument of his master, in the beautiful church of St. Mary Redcliffe. On this stone are represented the ensigns of his trade, a skimmer and a knife. His epitaph is as follows: “Hic jacet Willms Coke quondam serviens Willml Canynges mercatoris villæ Bristoll; cujus animæ propitietur Deus.” Lazarillo, in The Woman-Hater of Beaumont and Fletcher, expresses a wish to have his tomb ornamented in a like manner: “&lblank; for others' glorious shields, “Give me a voider; and above my hearse, “For a trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up.” Steevens.

Note return to page 424 7&lblank; those precepts cannot be served:] Precept is a justice's warrant. To the offices which Falstaff gives Davy in the following scene, may be added that of justice's clerk. Davy has almost as many employments as Scrub in The Stratagem. Johnson.

Note return to page 425 8Let it be cast,] That is, cast up, computed. M. Mason.

Note return to page 426 9&lblank; Hinckley fair?] Hinckley is a town in Leicester. Steevens.

Note return to page 427 1&lblank; A friend i' the court, &c.] So, in Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose, v. 5540: “Friendship is more than cattell “For frende in courte aie better is, “Than peny is in purse, certis.” Grey. “A friend in court is worth a penny in purse,” is one of Camden's proverbial sentences. See his Remaines, 4to. 1605. Malone.

Note return to page 428 *Folio, these.

Note return to page 429 2&lblank; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave,” &c.] This is no exaggerated picture of the course of justice in those days. The Lord Keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon, in his speech to both houses of parliament, 1559, says, “is it not a monstrous disguising to have a justice a maintainer, acquitting some for gain, enditing others for malice, bearing with him as his servant, overthrowing the other as his enemy.” D'Ewes, p. 34. And he uses the same words in another speech, 1571, ibid. 153. A member of the house of commons, in 1601, says, “A justice of peace is a living creature yet [read that] for half a dozen chickens will dispense with half a dozen penal statutes.—If a warrant come from the lord of the council to levy a hundred men, he will levy two hundred, and what with chopping in and chusing out, he'll gain a hundred pounds by the bargain: nay, . . . . . he will write the warrant himself, and you must put two shillings in his pocket as his clerk's fee (when God knows he keeps but two or three hindes,) for his better maintenance.” P. 661. Blakeway.

Note return to page 430 3&lblank; my tall fellow.] Whether the epithet tall, in the present instance, is used with reference to the diminutive size of the page or has the ancient signification—gallant, let the reader determine. Thus, in Chapman's version of the eleventh Iliad: “&lblank; as little suffer I “In this same tall exploit of thine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 431 †This direction is not in the old copies.

Note return to page 432 3&lblank; bearded hermit's staves &lblank;] He had before called him the starved justice. His want of flesh is a standing jest. Johnson.

Note return to page 433 4&lblank; master Shallow.] Shallow's folly seems to have been almost proverbial. So, in Decker's Satiromastix, 1602: “&lblank; We must have false fires to amaze these spangle babies, these true heirs of master Justice Shallow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 434 5&lblank; they flock together in consent,] i. e. in concentu, or in one mind, one party. So, Macbeth: “If you shall cleave to my consent.” See vol. xi. p. 92, n. 3, and note on King Henry VI. Part I. Act I. Sc. I. line 5. The word, however, may be derived from consensio, consensus, Lat. Steevens. “&lblank; in concent,” i. e. in union, in accord. In our author's time the word in this sense was written concent, (as it here is in the old copy,) and that spelling continued to Cowley's time. See Davideis, book iii.: “Learning consent and concord from his lyre.” Malone.

Note return to page 435 6&lblank; near their master:] i. e. admitted to their master's confidence. Steevens.

Note return to page 436 7&lblank; two actions,] There is something humorous in making a spendthrift compute time by the operation of an action for debt. Johnson.

Note return to page 437 8&lblank; a sad brow,] i. e. a serious face. So, in The Winter's Tale: “My father and the gentlemen are in sad talk.” Steevens.

Note return to page 438 9&lblank; fellow that never had the ache &lblank;] That is, a young fellow, one whose disposition to merriment time and pain have not yet impaired. Johnson.

Note return to page 439 1&lblank; impartial conduct &lblank;] Thus the quartos. The folio reads—imperial. Steevens. Impartial is confirmed by a subsequent speech addressed by the King to the Chief Justice: “&lblank; That you use the same “With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit, “As you have done 'gainst me.” Malone.

Note return to page 440 2A ragged and forestall'd remission.] Ragged has no sense here. We should read: “A rated and forestall'd remission.” i. e. remission that must be sought for, and bought with supplication. Warburton. Different minds have different perplexities. I am more puzzled with forestall'd than with ragged; for ragged, in our author's licentious diction, may easily signify beggarly, mean, base, ignominious; but forestall'd I know not how to apply to remission in any sense primitive or figurative. I should be glad of another word, but cannot find it. Perhaps, by forestall'd remission, he may mean a pardon begged by a voluntary confession of offence, and anticipation of the charge. Johnson. The same expression occurs in two different passages in Massinger. In The Duke of Milan, Sforza says to the Emperor: “Nor come I as a slave— “Falling before thy feet, kneeling and howling “For a forestall'd remission.” And, in The Bondman, Pisander says: “&lblank; And sell “Ourselves to most advantage, than to trust “To a forestall'd remission.” In all these passages a forestall'd remission seems to mean, a remission that it is predetermined shall not be granted, or will be rendered nugatory. Shakspeare uses, in more places than one, the word forestall in the sense of to prevent. Horatio says to Hamlet, “If your mind dislike any thing, obey it. I will forestall their repair hither.” In this very play, the Prince says to the King: “But for my tears, &c. “I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke.” In Hamlet, the King says: “And what's in prayer, but this twofold force,— “To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, “Or pardon'd, being down?” M. Mason. I believe, forestall'd only means asked before it is granted. If he will grant me pardon unasked, so; if not, I will not condescend to solicit it. In support of the interpretation of forestall'd remission, i. e. a remission obtained by a previous supplication, the following passage in Cymbeline may be urged: “&lblank; may “This night forestall him of the coming day!” That ragged has been rightly explained, has been already shown, see p. 18. Malone.

Note return to page 441 3&lblank; not the Turkish court;] Not the court where the prince that mounts the throne puts his brothers to death. Johnson.

Note return to page 442 4Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, But Harry Harry:] Amurath the Third (the sixth Emperor of the Turks) died on January the 18th, 1596–6. The people being generally disaffected to Mahomet, his eldest son, and inclined to Amurath, one of his younger children, the Emperor's death was concealed for ten days by the Janizaries, till Mahomet came from Amasia to Constantinople. On his arrival he was saluted Emperor, by the great Bassas, and others his favourers; “which done, (says Knolles,) he presently after caused all his brethren to be invited to a solemn feast in the court; whereunto they, yet ignorant of their father's death, came chearfully, as men fearing no harm: but, being come, were there all most miserably strangled.” It is highly probable that Shakspeare here alludes to this transaction; which was pointed out to me by Dr. Farmer. This circumstance, therefore, may fix the date of this play subsequently to the beginning of the year 1596; and perhaps it was written while this fact was yet recent. Malone.

Note return to page 443 5&lblank; Was this easy?] That is, was this not grievous? Shakspeare has easy in this sense elsewhere. Johnson. Thus, perhaps, in King Henry VI. Part II. Act III. Sc. I.: “&lblank; these faults are easy, quickly answer'd.” “Was this easy?” may mean,—was this a slight offence? Thus, Lord Surrey: “And easy sighes, such as folkes draw in love.” Steevens.

Note return to page 444 6And struck me in my very seat of judgment;] See the note at the end of this play. Boswell.

Note return to page 445 7To trip the course of law,] To defeat the process of justice; a metaphor taken from the act of tripping a runner. Johnson. So, in Hamlet: “Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 446 8And mock your workings in a second body.] To treat with contempt your acts executed by a representative. Johnson.

Note return to page 447 9&lblank; and propose a son:] i. e. image to yourself a son, contrive for a moment to think you have one. So, in Titus Andronicus: “&lblank; a thousand deaths I could propose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 448 1&lblank; in your state,] In your regal character and office, not with the passion of a man interested, but with the impartiality of a legislator. Johnson.

Note return to page 449 2&lblank; You did commit me, &c.] So, in the play on this subject, antecedent to that of Shakspeare: “You sent me to the Fleet; and for revengement, “I have chosen you to be the protector “Over my realm.” Steevens.

Note return to page 450 3&lblank; remembrance,] That is, admonition. Johnson.

Note return to page 451 4My father is gone wild &lblank;] Mr. Pope, by substituting wail'd for wild, without sufficient consideration, afforded Mr. Theobald much matter of ostentatious triumph. Johnson. The meaning is—My wild dispositions having ceased on my father's death, and being now as it were buried in his tomb, he and wildness are interred in the same grave. A passage in King Henry V. Act I. Sc. I. very strongly confirms this interpretation: “The courses of his youth promis'd it not: “The breath no sooner left his father's body, “But that his wildness, mortified in him, “Seem'd to die too.” So, in King Henry VIII.: “And when old time shall lead him to his end, “Goodness, and he, fill up one monument.” A kindred thought is found in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “And so suppose am I; for in his grave “Assure thyself my love is buried.” Malone.

Note return to page 452 5&lblank; with his spirit sadly I survive,] Sadly is the same as soberly, seriously, gravely. Sad is opposed to wild. Johnson. The quarto and first folio have spirits. The correction was made by the editor of the third folio. Malone.

Note return to page 453 6&lblank; the state of floods,] i. e. the assembly, or general meeting of the floods: for all rivers, running to the sea, are there represented as holding their sessions. This thought naturally introduced the following: “Now call we our high court of parliament.” But the Oxford editor, much a stranger to the phraseology of that time in general, and to his author's in particular, out of mere loss for his meaning, reads it backwards, “the floods of state.” Warburton. The objection to Warburton's explanation is, that the word state, in the singular, does not imply the sense he contends for: we say an assembly of the states, not of the state. I believe we must either adopt Hanmer's amendment, or suppose that state means dignity; and that, “to mingle with the state of floods,” is ‘to partake of the dignity of floods.’ I should prefer the amendment to this interpretation. M. Mason. I prefer the interpretation to the amendment. State most evidently means dignity. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; Highest queen of state, “Great Juno comes.” Steevens. “&lblank; with the state of floods.” With the majestick dignity of the ocean, the chief of floods. So before, in this scene: “And, as you are a king, speak in your state &lblank;.” State and estate, however, were used in our author's time for a person of high dignity, and may in that sense be applied to the sea, supposing it to be personified. So, in King John: “How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?” Malone.

Note return to page 454 7&lblank; a dish of carraways, &c.] A comfit or confection so called in our author's time. A passage in De Vigneul Marville's Melanges d' Histoire et de Litt, will explain this odd treat: “Dans le dernier siecle ou l'on avoit le gout delicat, on ne croioit pas pouvoir vivre sans Dragées. Il n'etoit fils de bonne mere, qui n'eut son Dragier; et il est reporté dans l'histoire du duc de Guise, que quand il fut tué à Blois, il avoit son Dragier à la main.” Warburton. Mr. Edwards has diverted himself with this note of Dr. Warburton's, but without producing a happy illustration of the passage. The dish of caraways here mentioned was a dish of apples of that name. Goldsmith. Dr. Goldsmith and others are of opinion, that by carraways in this place apples of that name were meant. I have no doubt that comfits were intended; because at the time this play was written, they constantly made part of the desert, or banquet, as it was then called.—In John Florio's Italian and English Dialogues, which he calls Second Frutes, quarto, 1591, after a dinner has been described, the attendant is desired to bring in “apples, pears, chesnuts, &c. a boxe of marmalade, some bisket, and carrawaies, with other comfects.” Again, in The Booke of Carvyng, bl. 1. no date: “Serve after meat, peres, nuts, strawberies, hurtleberies and hard cheese: also bla&ubar;drels or pipins, with caraway in c&obar;fects.” Malone. Whether Dr. Warburton, Mr. Edwards, or Dr. Goldsmith, is in the right, the following passage in Decker's Satiromastix has left undecided: “By this handful of carraways I could never abide to say grace.” “&lblank; by these comfits we'll let all slide.” “By these comfits and these carraways; I warrant it does him good to swear.”— “&lblank; I am glad, lady Petula, by this apple, that they please you.” That apples, comfits, and carraways, at least were distinct things, may be inferred from the following passage in the old black letter interlude of The Disobedient Child, no date: “What running had I for apples and nuttes, “What callying for biskettes, cumfettes, and carowaies.” Again, in How to Chuse a Good Wife from a Bad, 1602: “For apples, carrawaies, and cheese.” There is a pear, however, called a caraway, which may be corrupted from caillouel, Fr. So, in the French Roman de la Rose: Ou la poire de caillouel. Chaucer, in his version of this passage, says: “With caleweis,” &c. Steevens. It would be easy to prove, by several instances, that caraways were generally part of the desert in Shakspeare's time. See particularly Murrel's Cookery, &c. A late writer however asserts that caraways is the name of an apple as well known to the natural inhabitants of Bath, as nonpareil is in London, and as generally associated with golden pippins. He observes also that if Shakspeare had meant comfits he would have said, “a dish of last year's pippins with carraways.”—With a dish, &c. clearly means something distinct from the pippins. Jackson's Thirty Letters, 8vo. vol. ii. p. 42. Reed. The following passage in Cogan's Haven of Health, 4to. bl. 1. 1595, will at once settle this important question: “This is a confirmation of our use in England, for the serving of apples and other fruites last after meales. Howbeit we are wont to eate carawaies or biskets, or some other kind of comfits or seedes together with apples, thereby to breake winde ingendred by them: and surely it is a very good way for students.” Steevens.

Note return to page 455 8&lblank; barren, barren; beggars all, &lblank; good air.] Justice Shallow alludes to a witticism frequent among rusticks, who, when talking of a healthy country, pleasantly observe: “Yes, it is a good air, more run away than die.” Holt White.

Note return to page 456 9&lblank; and your husbandman.] Old copy—husband. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. I am not sure that the emendation is necessary. “He was a wise man, and a good,” was the language of our author's time. See also Falstaff's preceding speech. Malone.

Note return to page 457 1By the mass,] So, in Springes for Woodcocks, a collection of epigrams, 1606, Ep. 221: “In elders' time, as ancient custom was, “Men swore in weighty causes by the masse; “But when the masse went down, (as others note,) “Their oathes were, by the crosse of this same groat,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 458 2&lblank; and females dear, &c.] This very natural character of Justice Silence is not sufficiently observed. He would scarcely speak a word before, and now there is no possibility of stopping his mouth. He has a catch for every occasion: “When flesh is cheap and females dear.” Here the double sense of the word dear must be remembered. Farmer.

Note return to page 459 3And ever among so merrily.] Ever among is used by Chaucer in The Romaunt of the Rose: “Ever among (sothly to saine) “I suffre noie and mochil paine.” Farmer. Of the phrase—ever among, I find an example in the old MS. romance of The Sowdon of Babyloyne: “Thai eten and dronken right inowe, “And made myrth ever among: “But of the Sowdon speke we nowe “Howe of sorowe was his songe.” It is observable that this phrase, in both instances, is applied to the purpose of festivity. Steevens. It occurs in the Not-browne Mayd: “Be it right or wrong, these men among,   “On women do complain.” Which Dr. Farmer proposed, erroneously, I think, to correct— “'tis men among,” supposing it a Latinism. See Percy's Reliques, vol. ii. p. 28, edit. 1794. So, Turbervile's Tragical Tales, p. 132, where it is certainly not applied to the purpose of festivity: “And whipt him now and then among.” Boswell.

Note return to page 460 4&lblank; proface!] Italian, from profaccia; that is, much good may it do you. Hanmer. Sir Thomas Hanmer (says Dr. Farmer) is right, yet it is no argument for his author's Italian knowledge. Old Heywood, the epigrammatist, addressed his readers long before: “Readers, reade this thus: for preface, proface, “Much good may it do you,” &c. So, Taylor, the Water-poet, in the title of a poem prefixed to his Praise of Hempseed: “A preamble, preatrot, preagallop, preapace, or preface; and proface, my masters, if your stomach serve.” Decker, in his comedy of If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it, makes Shackle-soule, in the character of Friar Rush, tempt his brethren “with choice of dishes:” “To which proface; with blythe lookes sit yee.” I am still much in doubt whether there be such an Italian word as profaccia. Baretti has it not, and it is more probable that we received it from the French; proface being a colloquial abbreviation of the phrase.—“Bon prou leur face,” i. e. ‘Much good may it do them.’ See Cotgrave, in voce Prou. To the instances produced by Dr. Farmer, I may add one more from Springes for Woodcocks, a collection of epigrams, 1606, Ep. 110: “Proface, quoth Fulvius, fill us t'other quart.” And another from Heywood's Epigrams: “I came to be merry, wherewith merrily “Proface. Have among you,” &c. Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 528: “&lblank; the cardinall came in booted and spurred, all sodainly amongst them, and bade them proface.” Steevens. So, in Nashe's Apologie for Pierce Penniless, 1593: “A preface to courteous minds,—as much as to say proface, much good may it do you! would it were better for you!” Sir T. Hanmer, (as an ingenious friend observes to me,) was mistaken in supposing profaccia a regular Italian word; the proper expression being buon pro vi faccia, much good may it do you! Profaccia is, however, as I am informed, a cant term used by the common people in Italy, though it is not inserted in the best Italian dictionaries. Malone.

Note return to page 461 5&lblank; The heart's all.] That is, the intention with which the entertainment is given. The humour consists in making Davy act as master of the house. Johnson.

Note return to page 462 6&lblank; my wife's as all;] Old copy—has all. Dr. Farmer very acutely observes, that we should read-my wife's as all, i. e. as all women are. This affords a natural introduction to what follows. Steevens. “My wife has all” is an equally good introduction to what follows. It is a proof that she is a shrew. Boswell.

Note return to page 463 6'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,] Mr. Warton, in his History of English Poetry, observes, that this rhyme is found in a poem by Adam Davie, called The Life of Alexander: “Merry swithe it is in halle, “When the berdes waveth alle.” Steevens. This song is mentioned by a contemporary author: “&lblank; which done, grace said, and the table taken up, the plate presently conveyed into the pantrie, the hall summons this consort of companions (upon payne to dyne with duke Humphfrie, or to kisse the hare's foot) to appear at the first call: where a song is to be sung, the under song or holding whereof is, It is merrie in haul where beards wag all.” The Serving-man's Comfort, 1598, sig. C. Again: “It is a common proverbe It is merry in hall, when beardes wag all.” Briefe Conceipte of English Pollicye, by William Stafford, 1581. Reprinted 1751, as a work of Shakspeare's. Reed.

Note return to page 464 7And welcome merry shrove-tide.] Shrove-tide was formerly a season of extraordinary sport and feasting. In the Romish church there was anciently a feast immediately preceding Lent, which lasted many days, called Carniscapium. See Carpentier in v. Supp. Lat. Gloss. Du Cange, tom. i. p. 381. In some cities of France, an officer was annually chosen, called Le Prince D' Amoreux, who presided over the sports of the youth for six days before Ash-Wednesday. Ibid. v. Amoratus, p. 195; and v. Cardinalis, p. 818. Also, v. Spinetum, tom. iii. 848. Some traces of these festivities still remain in our universities. In The Percy Houshold-book, 1512, it appears, “that the clergy and officers of Lord Percy's chapel performed a play before his lordship upon Shrowftewesday at night.” P. 345. T. Warton. See also Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, vol. xii. p. 403, last edition. Reed.

Note return to page 465 8&lblank; leather-coats &lblank;] The apple commonly denominated russetine, in Devonshire, is called the buff-coat. Henley.

Note return to page 466 9&lblank; a merry heart lives long-a.] “A merry heart is the life of the flesh.” Proverbs, xiv. 30. “Gladness prolongs his days.” Eccles. xxx. 22. Steevens.

Note return to page 467 1&lblank; now comes in the sweet of the night.] So Falstaff, in a former scene of this play: “Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night &lblank;.” Steevens. I believe the latter words [those in the speech of Silence] make part of some old ballad. In one of Autolycus's songs we find— “Why then comes in the sweet of the year.” The words, “And we shall be merry,” have a reference to a song, of which Silence has already sung a stanza. His speeches in this scene are, for the most part, fragments of ballads. Though his imagination did not furnish him with any thing original to say, he could repeat the verses of others. Malone.

Note return to page 468 2Fill the cup, &c.] This passage has hitherto been printed as prose, but I am told that it makes a part of an old song, and have therefore restored it to its metrical form. Steevens.

Note return to page 469 3&lblank; cavaleroes &lblank;] This was the term by which an airy, splendid, irregular fellow was distinguished. The soldiers of King Charles were called Cavaliers from the gaiety which they affected in opposition to the sour faction of the parliament. Johnson.

Note return to page 470 4I hope to see London once ere I die.] Once, I believe, here signifies some time, or—one time or another. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Fenton says: “I pray thee, once tonight give my sweet Nan this ring.” Steevens.

Note return to page 471 5Do me right.] To do a man right, and to do him reason, were formerly the usual expressions in pledging healths. He who drank a bumper, expected a bumper should be drank to his toast. So, in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman, Captain Otter says in the drinking scene: “Ha' you done me right, gentlemen?” Again, in The Bondman, by Massinger: “These glasses contain nothing;—do me right, “As ere you hope for liberty.” Steevens.

Note return to page 472 6And dub me knight:] It was the custom of the good fellows of Shakspeare's days to drink a very large draught of wine, and sometimes a less palatable potation, on their knees, to the health of their mistress. He who performed this exploit was dubb'd a knight for the evening. So, in The Yorkshire Tragedy, 1608: “They call it knighting in London, when they drink upon their knees.—Come follow me; I'll give you all the degrees of it in order.” Malone.

Note return to page 473 7Samingo.] He means to say, San Domingo. Hanmer. In one of Nashe's plays, entitled Summer's last Will and Testament, 1600, Bacchus sings the following catch: “Monsieur Mingo for quaffing doth surpass “In cup, in can, or glass; “God Bacchus, do me right, “And dub me knight, “Domingo.” Domingo is only the burthen of the song Again, in The letting of Humours Blood in the Head-vaine: with a new Morisco, daunced by seaven Satyres, upon the Bottome of Diogenes Tubbe, 1600: Epigram I. “Monsieur Domingo is a skilful man,   “For muche experience he hath lately got, “Proving more phisicke in an alehouse can   “Than may be found in any vintner's pot; “Beere he protestes is sodden and refin'd, “And this he speakes, being single-penny lind. “For when his purse is swolne but sixpence bigge,   “Why then he sweares,—Now by the Lorde I thinke, “All beere in Europe is not worth a figge;   “A cuppe of clarret is the only drinke. “And thus his praise from beer to wine doth goe, “Even as his purse in pence dothe ebbe and flowe.” Steevens. Samingo, that is, San Domingo, as some of the commentators have rightly observed. But what is the meaning and propriety of the name here, has not yet been shown. Justice Silence is here introduced as in the midst of his cups: and I remember a blackletter ballad, in which either a San Domingo, or a signior Domingo, is celebrated for his miraculous feats in drinking. Silence, in the abundance of his festivity, touches upon some old song, in which this convivial saint or signior was the burden. Perhaps too the pronunciation is here suited to the character. T. Warton. That is, to the present situation of Silence; who has drunk so deeply at supper, that Falstaff afterwards orders him to be carried to bed. Malone. Of the gluttony and drunkenness of the Dominicans, one of their own order says thus in Weever's Funeral Monuments, p. cxxxi.: “Sanctus Dominicus sit nobis semper amicus, cui canimus—siccatis ante lagenis—fratres qui non curant nisi ventres.” Hence Domingo might (as Mr. Steevens remarks) become the burden of a drinking song. Tollet. In Marston's Antonio and Mellida, we meet with— “Do me right, and dub me knight, Ballurdo.” Farmer.

Note return to page 474 “Do me right, “And dub me knight “Samingo.” Why St. Domingo should have been considered as the patron of topers I know not; but he seems to have been regarded in this light by Gonzalo Berceo, an old Castilian poet, who flourished in 1211. He was a monk, much of the same cast with our facetious Arch-deacon Walter de Mapes. In writing the life of the saint, he seeks inspiration in a glass of good wine. “&lblank; De un confessor sancto quiero fer una prosa “Quiero fer una prosa en Roman Paladino, “En qual suele el pueblo fablar a su vecino, “Ca no son tan lettrado por fer otro Latino, “Bien valdra, come creo, un vaso de buen vino.” Boswell.

Note return to page 475 8&lblank; no man to good.] I once thought that we should read— which blows to no man good. But a more attentive review of ancient Pistol's language has convinced me that it is very dangerous to correct it. He who in quoting from Marlowe's Tamburlaine, introduces hollow-pamper'd jades, instead of “Holla, ye pamper'd jades,” may be allowed to change the order of the words in this common proverbial saying. Since this note was written, I have found that I suspected Pistol of inaccuracy without reason. He quotes the proverb as it was used by our old English writers, though the words are now differently arranged. So, in A Dialogue both pleasaunt and pietifull, by William Bulleyne, 1564, sig. F 5: “No winde but it doth turn some man to good.” Malone.

Note return to page 476 9&lblank; but goodman Puff of Barson.] A little before, William Visor of Woncot is mentioned. Woodmancot and Barton (says Mr. Edwards's MSS.) which I suppose are these two places, and are represented to be in the neighbourhood of Justice Shallow, are both of them in Berkeley hundred in Glosterhire. This, I imagine, was done to disguise the satire a little; for Sir Thomas Lucy, who, by the coat of arms he bears, must be the real Justice Shallow, lived at Charlecot, near Stratford, in Warwickshire. Steevens. Barston is a village in Warwickshire, lying between Coventry and Solyhull. Percy. Mr. Tollet has the same observation, and adds that Woncot may be put for Wolphmancote, vulgarly Ovencote, in the same county. Shakspeare might be unwilling to disguise the satire too much, and therefore mentioned places within the jurisdiction of Sir Thomas Lucy. Steevens. Mr. Warton, in a note on The Taming of the Shrew, says, that Wilnecote, (or Wincot,) is a village in Warwickshire, near Stratford. I suppose, therefore, in a former scene, we should read Wincot instead of Woncot. Malone. Sir John Suckling, in his letter from the wine-drinkers to the water-drinkers, has this passage: “Him captain Puffe of Barton shall follow with all expedition with two or three regiments of claret.” Tonson's edit. 1719, p. 124. Boswell.

Note return to page 477 1Let king Cophetua, &c.] Lines taken from an old bombast play of King Cophetua; of whom we learn from Shakspeare, there were ballads too. Warburton. This is mere conjecture, for no such play is extant. From a passage in King Richard II. it may indeed be surmized that there was such a piece. See vol. xvi. p. 156, n. 9. The ballad of The King (Cophetua) and the Beggar, may be found in Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. i. Malone. See Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 344, n. 2. Johnson.

Note return to page 478 2&lblank; Scarlet, and John.] This scrap (as Dr. Percy has observed in the first volume of his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry,) is taken from a stanza in the old ballad of Robin Hood and the Pindar of Wakefield. Steevens.

Note return to page 479 3&lblank; in Furies' lap.] Should not we read?—in Fury's lap. Ritson.

Note return to page 480 4Why then, lament therefore,] So, in Marlowe's Massacre of Paris: “The Guise is slain, and I rejoice therefore.” Malone.

Note return to page 481 5&lblank; Bezonian?] So again, Suffolk says, in The Second Part of Henry VI.: “Great men oft die by vile Bezonians.” It is a term of reproach, frequent in the writers contemporary with our poet. Bisognoso, a needy person; thence metaphorically, a base scoundrel. Theobald. Nash, in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication, &c. 1595, says: “Proud lordes do tumble from the towers of their high descents and be trod under feet of every inferior Besonian.” In The Widow's Tears, a comedy, by Chapman, 1612, the primitive word is used: “&lblank; spurn'd out by grooms, like a base Besogno?” And again, in Sir Giles Goosecap, a comedy, 1606: “&lblank; If he come like to your Besogno, your boor, so he be rich, they care not.” Steevens.

Note return to page 482 6&lblank; fig me, like The bragging Spaniard.] To fig, in Spanish, higas dar, is to insult by putting the thumb between the fore and middle finger. From this Spanish custom we yet say in contempt, “a fig for you.” Johnson. So, in The Shepherd's Slumber, a song published in England's Helicon, 1600: “With scowling browes their follies checke,   “And so give them the fig;” &c. See my note on Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. I. Steevens. Dr. Johnson has properly explained this phrase; but it should be added that it is of Italian origin. When the Milanese revolted against the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, they placed the empress his wife upon a mule with her head towards the tail, and ignominiously expelled her their city. Frederick afterwards besieged and took the place, and compelled every one of his prisoners on pain of death to take with his teeth a fig from the posteriors of a mule. The party was at the same time obliged to repeat to the executioner the words “ecco la fica.” From this circumstance “far la fica” became a term of derision, and was adopted by other nations. The French say likewise “faire la figue.” Douce. See this phrase fully explained in Mr. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare. Boswell.

Note return to page 483 7Fal. What! is the old king dead? Pist. As nail in door:] This proverbial expression is oftener used than understood. The door nail is the nail on which in ancient doors the knocker strikes. It is therefore used as a comparison to any one irrecoverably dead, one who has fallen (as Virgil says) mullâ morte, i. e. with abundant death, such as reiteration of strokes on the head would naturally produce. Steevens.

Note return to page 484 8Where is the life that late I led, &c.] Words of an old ballad. Warburton. The same has been already introduced in The Taming of the Shrew. Steevens.

Note return to page 485 9&lblank; Welcome these pleasant days.] Perhaps, (as Sir Thomas Hanmer suggests,) the poet concluded this scene with a rhyming couplet, and therefore wrote: “&lblank; Welcome this pleasant day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 486 1Enter Beadles, &c.] This stage-direction, in the quarto edit. of 1600, stands thus: “Enter Sincklo, and three or four Officers.” And the name of Sincklo is prefixed to those speeches, which in the later editions are given to the Beadle. This is an additional proof that Sincklo was the name of the players. See the note on The Taming of the Shrew, vol. v. p. 367, n. 7. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 487 2&lblank; whipping-cheer &lblank;] So, in Thomas Newton's Herball to the Bible, 8vo. 1587: “&lblank; in wedlocke all pensive sullenes and lowring-cheer ought to be utterly excluded,” &c. Again, in an ancient bl. 1. ballad, intitled, O, Yes, &c.: “And if he chance to scape the rope,   “He shall have whipping-cheere.” Steevens.

Note return to page 488 3Nut-hook, &c.] It has been already observed, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, that nut-hook seems to have been in those times a name of reproach for a catchpoll. Johnson. A nut-hook was, I believe, a person who stole linen, &c. out at windows, by means of a poll with a hook at the end of it. Greene, in his Arte of Coney-catching, has given a very particular account of this kind of fraud; so that nut-hook was probably as common a term of reproach as rogue is at present. In an old comedy intitled Match me in London, 1631, I find the following passage: “She's the king's nut-hook, that when any filbert is ripe, pulls down the bravest boughs to his hand.” Again, in The Three Ladies of London, 1584: “To go a fishing with a cranke through a window, or to set lime-twigs to catch a pan, pot, or dish.” Again, in Albumazar, 1615: “&lblank; picking of locks and hooking cloaths out of window.” Again, in The Jew of Malta, by Marlowe, 1633: “I saw some bags of money, and in the night “I clamber'd up with my hooks.” Hence perhaps the phrase By hook or by crook, which is as old as the time of Tusser and Spenser. The first uses it in his Husbandry for the month of March, the second in the third book of his Fairy Queen. In the first volume of Holinshed's Chronicle, p. 188, the reader may find the cant titles bestowed by the vagabonds of that age on one another, among which are hookers, or anglers; and Decker, in The Bell-man of London, 5th edit. 1640, describes this species of robbery in particular. Steevens.

Note return to page 489 4&lblank; a dozen of cushions &lblank;] That is, to stuff her out that she might counterfeit pregnancy. So, in Massinger's Old Law: “I said I was with child, &c. Thou said'st it was a cushion,” &c. Again, in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher, &c. 1592: “&lblank; to wear a cushion under her own kirtle, and to faine herself with child.” Steevens.

Note return to page 490 5&lblank; thou thin man in a censer!] These old censers of thin metal had generally at the bottom the figure of some saint raised up with a hammer, in a barbarous kind of imbossed or chased work. The hunger-starved beadle is compared, in substance, to one of these thin raised figures, by the same kind of humour that Pistol, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, calls Slender a latten bilboe. Warburton. Dr. Warburton's explanation is erroneous. The embossed figure to which Doll refers, was in the middle of the pierced convex lid of the censer; and not at the bottom, where it must have been out of sight. That Doll Tear-sheet, however, may not be suspected of acquaintance with the censers mentioned in Scripture, and confined to sacred use, it should be remarked, that the consummate sluttery of ancient houses rendered censers or fire-pans, in which coarse perfumes were burnt, most necessary utensils. In Much Ado about Nothing, Act I. Sc. III. Borachio says he had been “entertained for a perfumer to smoke a musty room at Leonato's:” and in a Letter from the Lords of the Council, in the reign of King Edward VI. (see Lodge's Illustrations of British History, &c. vol. i. p. 141,) we are told that Lord Paget's house was so small, that, “after one month it would wax unsavery for hym to contynue in,” &c. Again, from the Correspondence of the Earl of Shrewsbury with Lord Burleigh, during the confinement of Mary Queen of Scots at Sheffield-castle, in 1572, (see vol. ii. p. 68.) we learn that her Majesty was to be removed for five or six days “to klense her chambar, being kept very unklenly.” Again, in a Memoir written by Anne, Countess of Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery, 1603: “&lblank; we all went to Tibbals to see the Kinge, who used my mother and my aunt very gratiouslie; but we all saw a great chaunge betweene the fashion of the Court as it was now, and of yt in ye Queene's, for we were all lowzy by sittinge in Sr. Thomas Erskin's chamber.” See Mr. Seward's Anecdotes, &c. vol. iv. p. 305. Steevens.

Note return to page 491 *Folio, blew-bottled.

Note return to page 492 6&lblank; blue-bottle-rogue!] A name, I suppose, given to the beadle, from the colour of his livery. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is right with respect to the livery, but the allusion seems to be to the great flesh-fly, commonly called a blue-bottle. Farmer. The same allusion is in Northward Hoe, 1607: “Now blue-bottle! what flutter you for, sea-pie?” The serving men were anciently habited in blue, and this is spoken on the entry of one of them. It was natural for Doll to have an aversion to the colour, as a blue gown was the dress in which a strumpet did penance. So, in The Northern Lass, 1633: “&lblank; let all the good you intended me be a lockram coif, a blew gown, a wheel, and a clean whip.” Mr. Malone confirms Dr. Johnson's remark on the dress of the beadle, by the following quotation from Michaelmas Term, by Middleton, 1607: “And to be free from the interruption of blue beadles and other bawdy officers, he most politickly lodges her in a constable's house.” Steevens.

Note return to page 493 7&lblank; half-kirtles.] Probably the dress of the prostitutes of that time. Johnson. A half-kirtle was perhaps the same kind of thing as we call at present a short-gown, or a bed-gown. There is a proverbial expression now in use which may serve to confirm it. When a person is loosely dressed, the vulgar say—Such a one looks like a w&wblank;in a bed-gown. See Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “&lblank; forty shillings I lent her to redeem two half-silk kirtles.” Steevens. The dress of the courtezans of the time confirms Mr. Steevens's observation. So, in Michaelmas Term, by Middleton, 1607: “Dost dream of virginity now? remember a loose-bodied gown, wench, and let it go.” Again, in Skialetheia, or a Shadow of Truth in certain Epigrammes and Satires, 1598: “To women's loose gowns suiting her loose rhimes.” Yet, from the description of a kirtle already given, (see p. 98, n. 3,) a half-kirtle should seem to be a short cloak, rather than a short gown. Perhaps such a cloak, without sleeves, was here meant. Malone.

Note return to page 494 8Thou atomy thou!] Atomy for anatomy. Atomy or otamy is sometimes used by the ancient writers where no blunder or depravation is designed. So, in Look About You, 1600: “For thee, for thee, thou otamie of honour, “Thou worm of majesty &lblank;.” Steevens. The preceding expression seems to confirm Mr. Steevens's explanation. But whether the otamies of Surgeons' Hall were known at this time, may perhaps be questioned. Atomy is perhaps here the motes or atoms in the sun beams, as the poet himself calls them, speaking of Queen Mab's chariot: “Drawn with a team of little atomies.” Romeo and Juliet. And otamie of honour, may very easily be so understood. Whalley. Shakspeare himself furnishes us with a proof that the word in his time, bore the sense which we now frequently affix to it, having employed it in The Comedy of Errors precisely with the signification in which the Hostess here uses atomy: “They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain, “A mere anatomy, a mountebank, “A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch, “A living dead man.” Again, in King John: “And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy.” Malone.

Note return to page 495 9&lblank; you rascal!] In the language of the forest, lean deer were called rascal deer. See p. 73, n. 4. Steevens. On this note the following observation has been made: “Doll could not speak but in the language of the forest. Rascal, does not signify rascal, but lean deer. See what it is to be on the watch to show a little musty reading and unknown knowledge.” Who, except this superficial writer, is so little acquainted with our author's manner, as not to know that he often introduces allusions to customs and practices with which he was himself conversant, without being solicitous whether it was probable that the speaker should have known any thing of the matter. Thus, to give one instance out of a thousand, he puts into the mouth of kings the language of his own stage, and makes them talk of cues and properties, who never had been in a tiring-room, and probably had never heard of either the one or the other. Of the language of the forest he was extremely fond; and the particular term rascal he has introduced in at least a dozen places. Malone.

Note return to page 496 1More rushes, &c.] It has been already observed, that, at ceremonial entertainments, it was the custom to strew the floor with rushes. Caius de Ephemera. Johnson. Chambers, and indeed all apartments usually inhabited, were formerly strewed in this manner. As our ancestors rarely washed their floors, disguises of uncleanliness became necessary things. See note on Cymbeline, Act II. Sc. II.—In the present instance, however, the rushes are supposed to be scattered on the pavement of a street, or on a platform. Steevens.

Note return to page 497 2It doth, it doth, it doth.] The two little answers which are given to Pistol in the old copy, are transferred by Sir Thomas Hanmer to Shallow. The repetition of it doth suits Shallow best. Johnson. In the quarto, Shallow's first speech in this scene, as well as these two, is erroneously given to Pistol. The editors of the folio corrected the former, but overlooked these. They likewise, in my apprehension, overlooked an error in the end of Falstaff's speech, below, though they corrected one in the beginning of it. See note 4. Malone.

Note return to page 498 3&lblank; to stand stained with travel,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “Stain'd with the variation of each soil, “Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours.” Malone.

Note return to page 499 *Quartos, 'Tis in every part.

Note return to page 500 4&lblank; 'Tis all in every part.] The sentence alluded to is: “'Tis all in all, and all in every part.” And so doubtless it should be read. 'Tis a common way of expressing one's approbation of a right measure to say, “'tis all in all.” To which this fantastick character adds, with some humour, “and all in every part:” which, both together, make up the philosophick sentence, and complete the absurdity of Pistol's phraseology. Warburton. I strongly suspect that these words belong to Falstaff's speech. They have nothing of Pistol's manner. In the original copy in quarto, the speeches in this scene are all in confusion. The two speeches preceding this, which are jumbled together, are given to Shallow, and stand thus: “Sh. It is best certain: but to stand stained with travel,” &c. The allusion, if any allusion there be, is to the description of the soul. So, in Nosce Teipsum, by Sir John Davies, 4to. 1599: “Some say, she's all in all, and all in every part.” Again, in Drayton's Mortimeriados, 4to. 1596: “And as his soul possesseth head and heart, “She's all in all, and all in every part.” Malone. In The Phœnix Nest, &c. 4to. 1593, we find, p. 20.: “Tota in toto, et tota in qualibet parte.” Ritson. In my opinion, this speech accords but little with the phraseology of Falstaff; and, on the contrary, agrees well with that of Pistol, who (as Moth in Love's Labour's Lost says of Holofernes) appears to “have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.” See his concluding words in the scene before us. Steevens.

Note return to page 501 5God save thy grace, king Hal!] A similar scene occurs in the anonymous Henry V. Falstaff and his companions address the King in the same manner, and are dismissed as in this play of Shakspeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 502 6&lblank; most royal imp of fame!] The word imp is perpetually used by Ulpian Fulwell, and other ancient writers, for progeny: “And were it not thy royal impe   “Did mitigate our pain &lblank;.” Here Fulwell addresses Anne Boleyn, and speaks of the young Elizabeth. Churchyard also calls Edward VI. “impe of grace.” Again, in The Battle of Alcazar, 1594: “&lblank; Amurath, mighty emperor of the east, “That shall receive the imp of royal race.” Again, in Fuimus Troes, 1633: “&lblank; from hence I bring “A pair of martial imps &lblank;.” Imp-yn is a Welsh word, and primitively signifies a sprout, a sucker. So, in the tragedy of Darius, 1603: “Like th' ancient trunk of some disbranched tree   “Which Æol's rage hath to confusion brought, “Disarm'd of all those imps that sprung from me,   “Unprofitable stock, I serve for nought.” Again, in Thomas Newton's Herball to the Bible, 8vo. 1587, there is a chapter on “shrubs, shootes, slippes, graffes, sets, sprigges, boughs, branches, twigs, yoong imps, sprayes, and buds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 503 7My king! my Jove!] It appears, from many passages both in our author's plays and poems, that he had diligently read the earlier pieces of Daniel. When he wrote the speech before us, he perhaps remembered these lines in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1594: “Doost thou not see, how that thy king, thy Jove, “Lightens forth glory on thy dark estate?” Malone.

Note return to page 504 8&lblank; profane;] In our author it often signifies love of talk, without the particular idea now given it. So, in Othello: “Is he not a profane and very liberal counsellor?” Johnson.

Note return to page 505 9&lblank; hence,] i. e. henceforward, from this time, in the future. Steevens.

Note return to page 506 1&lblank; know, the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men:— Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;] Nature is highly touched in this passage. The King having shaken off his vanities, schools his old companion for his follies with great severity: he assumes the air of a preacher, bids him fall to his prayers, seek grace, and leave gormandizing. But that word unluckily presenting him with a pleasant idea, he cannot forbear pursuing it. “Know, the grave doth gape for thee thrice wider,” &c. and is just falling back into Hal, by an humorous allusion to Falstaff's bulk; but he perceives it immediately, and fearing Sir John should take the advantage of it, checks both himself and the knight, with— “Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;” And so resumes the thread of his discourse, and goes moralizing on to the end of the chapter. Thus the poet copies nature with great skill, and shows us how apt men are to fall back into their old customs, when the change is not made by degrees, and brought into a habit, but determined of at once, on the motives of honour, interest, or reason. Warburton.

Note return to page 507 2Not to come near our person by ten mile.] Mr. Rowe observes, that many readers lament to see Falstaff so hardly used by his old friend. But if it be considered, that the fat knight has never uttered one sentiment of generosity, and with all his power of exciting mirth, has nothing in him that can be esteemed, no great pain will be suffered from the reflection that he is compelled to live honestly, and maintained by the King, with a promise of advancement when he shall deserve it. I think the poet more blameable for Poins, who is always represented as joining some virtues with his vices, and is therefore treated by the Prince with apparent distinction, yet he does nothing in the time of action; and though after the bustle is over he is again a favourite, at last vanishes without notice. Shakspeare certainly lost him by heedlessness, in the multiplicity of his characters, the variety of his action, and his eagerness to end the play. Johnson. The dismission of Falstaff was founded on an historical fact. Stowe says, that “King Henry, after his coronation, called unto him all those young lords and gentlemen that were the followers of his young acts, to every one of whom he gave rich gifts; and then commanded, that as many as would change their manners, as he intended to do, should abide with him in his court; and to all that would persevere in their former like conversation, he gave express commandment, upon pain of their heads, never after that day to come in his presence.” Steevens. This circumstance was originally mentioned by Hall, and is thus recorded by Holinshed, who was certainly Shakspeare's historian: “Immediately after that he was invested kyng, and had receyved the crowne, he determined with himselfe to putte upon him the shape of a new man, turning insolence and wildness into gravitie and sobernesse: and whereas he had passed his youth in wanton pastime and riotous misorder, with a sorte of misgoverned mates, and unthriftie playfeers, he now banished them from his presence, (not unrewarded nor yet unpreferred,) inhibiting them upon a great payne, not once to approche, lodge or sojourne within ten miles of his courte or mansion: and in their places he elected and chose men of gravitie, witte, and hygh policie, by whose wise counsell he might at all times rule to his honoure;—whereas if he should have reteined the other lustie companions aboute him, he doubted least they might have allured him into such lewde and lighte partes, as with them before tyme he had youthfully used.”— Our author might have found the same circumstance in the anonymous play of King Henry V.: “&lblank; your former life grieves me, “And makes me to abandon and abolish your company for ever: “And therefore not upon pain of death to approche my presence, “By ten miles' space; then, if I heare well of you, “It may be I will doe somewhat for you; “Otherwise looke for no more favour at my hands, “Than any other man's.” Malone.

Note return to page 508 *Folio, redeem.

Note return to page 509 3&lblank; to the Fleet;] I do not see why Falstaff is carried to the Fleet. We have never lost sight of him since his dismission from the King; he has committed no new fault, and therefore incurred no punishment; but the different agitations of fear, anger, and surprize in him and his company, made a good scene to the eye; and our author, who wanted them no longer on the stage, was glad to find this method of sweeping them away. Johnson.

Note return to page 510 4&lblank; I heard a bird so sing,] This phrase, which I suppose to be proverbial, occurs in the ancient ballad of The Rising in the North: “I heare a bird sing in mine eare, “That I must either fight or flee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 511 6This epilogue was merely occasional, and alludes to some theatrical transaction. Johnson.

Note return to page 512 7All the gentlewomen, &c.] The trick of influencing one part of the audience by the favour of the other, has been played already in the epilogue to As You Like It. Johnson.

Note return to page 513 9&lblank; and make you merry with fair Katharine of France:] I think this is a proof that the French scenes in King Henry V. however unworthy of our author, were really written by him. It is evident from this passage that he had at this time formed the plan of that play; and how was “fair Katharine to make the audience merry,” but by speaking broken English? The conversation and courtship of a great princess, in the usual style of the drama, was not likely to afford any merriment. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 514 1&lblank; to pray for the queen.] I wonder no one has remarked, at the conclusion of the epilogue, that it was the custom of the old players, at the end of the performance, to pray for their patrons. Thus, at the end of New Custom: “Preserve our noble Queen Elizabeth, and her councell all.” And in Locrine: “So let us pray for that renowned maid,” &c. And in Middleton's Mad World my Masters: “This shows like kneeling after the play; I praying for my lord Owemuch and his good countess, our honourable lady and mistress.” Farmer. Thus, at the end of Preston's Cambyses: “As duty binds us, for our noble queene let us pray,   “And for her honourable councel, the truth that they may use, “To practise justice, and defend her grace eche day;   “To maintaine God's word they may not refuse, “To correct all those that would her grace and grace's laws abuse: “Beseeching God over us she may reign long, “To be guided by trueth and defended from wrong.”     “Amen, q. Thomas Preston.” So, at the end of All for Money, a morality, by T. Lupton, 1578: “Let us pray for the queen's majesty, our sovereign governour, “That she may raign quietly according to God's will,” &c. Again, at the end of Lusty Juventus, a morality, 1561: “Now let us make supplications together, “For the prosperous estate of our noble and virtuous king,” &c. Again, at the end of The Disobedient Child, an interlude, by Thomas Ingeland, bl. 1. no date: “Here the rest of the players come in, and kneel down all togyther, eche of them sayinge one of these verses: “And last of all, to make an end,   “O God to the we most humblye praye “That to Queen Elizabeth thou do sende   “Thy lyvely pathe and perfect waye,” &c. &c. Again, at the conclusion of Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1661: “Which God preserve our noble queen, “From perilous chance which hath been seene; “And send her subjects grace, say I, “To serve her highness patiently!” Again, at the conclusion of a comedy called A Knack to Know a Knave, 1594: “And may her days of blisse never have an end, “Upon whose lyfe so many lyves depend.” Again, at the end of Apius and Virginia, 1575: “Beseeching God, as duty is, our gracious queene to save, “The nobles and the commons eke, with prosperous life I crave.” Lastly, Sir John Harrington's Metamorphosis of Ajax, 1596, finishes with these words: “But I will neither end with sermon nor prayer, lest some wags liken me to my L. (&wblank;) players, who when they have ended a baudie comedy, as though they were a preparative to devotion, kneele down solemnly, and pray all the companie to pray with them for their good lord and maister.” Almost all the ancient interludes I have met with conclude with some solemn prayer for the king or queen, house of commons, &c. Hence, perhaps, the Vivant Rex et Regina, at the bottom of our modern play-bills. Steevens.

Note return to page 515 10217002[5] 5Exeunt.] I fancy every reader, when he ends this play, cries out with Desdemona, “O most lame and impotent conclusion!” As this play was not, to our knowledge, divided into Acts by the author, I could be content to conclude it with the death of Henry the Fourth: “In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.” These scenes, which now make the fifth Act of Henry the Fourth, might then be the first of Henry the Fifth; but the truth is, that they do not unite very commodiously to either play. When these plays were represented, I believe they ended as they are now ended in the books; but Shakspeare seems to have designed that the whole series of action, from the beginning of Richard the Second, to the end of Henry the Fifth, should be considered by the reader as one work, upon one plan, only broken into parts by the necessity of exhibition. None of Shakspeare's plays are more read than the First and Second Parts of Henry the Fourth. Perhaps no author has ever, in two plays, afforded so much delight. The great events are interesting, for the fate of kingdoms depends upon them; the slighter occurrences are diverting, and, except one or two, sufficiently probable; the incidents are multiplied with wonderful fertility of invention, and the characters diversified with the utmost nicety of discernment, and the profoundest skill in the nature of man. The Prince, who is the hero both of the comick and tragick part, is a young man of great abilities and violent passions, whose sentiments are right, though his actions are wrong; whose virtues are obscured by negligence, and whose understanding is dissipated by levity. In his idle hours he is rather loose than wicked; and when the occasion forces out his latent qualities, he is great without effort, and brave without tumult. The trifler is roused into a hero, and the hero again reposes in the trifler. The character is great, original, and just. Percy is a rugged soldier, cholerick and quarrelsome, and has only the soldier's virtues, generosity and courage. But Falstaff unimitated, unimitable Falstaff, how shall I describe thee? thou compound of sense and vice; of sense which may be admired, but not esteemed; of vice which may be despised, but hardly detested. Falstaff is a character loaded with faults, and with those faults which naturally produce contempt. He is a thief and a glutton, a coward and a boaster, always ready to cheat the weak, and prey upon the poor; to terrify the timorous, and insult the defenceless. At once obsequious and malignant, he satirizes in their absence those he lives by flattering. He is familiar with the prince only as an agent of vice, but of this familiarity he is so proud, as not only to be supercilious and haughty with common men, but to think his interest of importance to the Duke of Lancaster. Yet the man thus corrupt, thus despicable, makes himself necessary to the prince that despises him, by the most pleasing of all qualities, perpetual gaiety; by an unfailing power of exciting laughter, which is the more freely indulged, as his wit is not of the splendid or ambitious kind, but consists in easy scapes and sallies of levity, which make sport, but raise no envy. It must be observed, that he is stained with no enormous or sanguinary crimes, so that his licentiousness is not so offensive but that it may be borne for his mirth. The moral to be drawn from this representation is, that no man is more dangerous than he that, with a will to corrupt, hath the power to please; and that neither wit nor honesty ought to think themselves safe with such a companion, when they see Henry seduced by Falstaff. Johnson. Dr. Johnson objects, with good reason, I think, to the “lame and impotent conclusion” of this play. Our author seems to have been as careless in the conclusion of the following plays as in that before us. In The Tempest the concluding words are: “&lblank; please you draw near.” In Much Ado About Nothing: “&lblank; Strike up, pipers.” In Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; You that way; we this way.” In The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; Hastily lead away.” In Timon of Athens: “Let our drums strike.” In Hamlet: “Go, bid the soldiers shoot.” Malone. That there is no apparent full and energetic close to any of the plays enumerated by Mr. Malone, is undeniable; but perhaps the epilogue spoken in the character of Prospero, the dance which terminates Much Ado About Nothing, a final and picturesque separation and procession of the personages in Love's Labour's Lost and The Winter's Tale, the symphony of warlike instruments at the end of Timon, and the peal of ordnance shot off while the survivors in Hamlet are quitting the stage, might have proved as satisfactory to our ancestors as the moral applications and polished couplets with which so many of our modern dramatick pieces conclude. Steevens.

Note return to page 516 10217001“And struck me in my very seat of judgment.” p. 210, I do not recollect that any of the editors of our author have thought this remarkable passage worthy of a note. The Chief Justice, in this play, was Sir William Gascoigne, of whom the following memoir may be as acceptable as necessary: While at the bar, Henry of Bolingbroke had been his client; and upon the decease of John of Gaunt, by the above Henry, his heir, then in banishment, he was appointed his attorney, to sue in the Court of Wards the livery of the estates descended to him. Richard II. revoked the letters patent for this purpose, and defeated the intent of them, and thereby furnished a ground for the invasion of his kingdom by the heir of Gaunt; who becoming afterwards Henry IV. appointed Gascoigne Chief Justice of the King's Bench in the first year of his reign. In that station Gascoigne acquired the character of a learned, an upright, a wise, and an intrepid judge. The story so frequently alluded to of his committing the prince for an insult on his person, and the court wherein he presided, is thus related by Sir Thomas Elyot, in his book entitled The Governour: “The moste renouned prince king Henry the fyfte, late kynge of Englande, durynge the lyfe of his father, was noted to be fiers and of wanton courage: it hapned, that one of his seruauntes, whom he fauoured well, was for felony by him committed, arrained at the kynges benche: whereof the prince being aduertised and incensed by lyghte persones aboute him, in furious rage came hastily to the barre where his seruante stode as a prisoner, and commaunded him to be vngyued and set at libertie: whereat all men were abashed, reserved the chiefe Justice, who humbly exhorted the prince, to be contented, that his seruaunt mought be ordred, accordynge to the aunciente lawes of this realme: or if he wolde haue hym saued from the rigour of the lawes, that he shulde obteyne, if he moughte, of the kynge his father, his gratious pardon, wherby no lawe or justyce shulde be derogate. With whiche answere the prince nothynge appeased, but rather more inflamed, endeuored hym selfe to take away his seruant. The iuge considering the perillous example, and inconuenience that mought therby ensue, with a valyant spirite and courage, commanded the prince vpon his alegeance, to leave the prisoner, and depart his way. With which commandment the prince being set all in a fury, all chafed and in a terrible maner, came vp to the place of iugement, men thynking that he wold haue slayne the iuge, or haue done to hym some damage: but the iuge sittynge styll without mouing, declaring the maiestie of the kynges place of iugement, and with an assured and bolde countenaunce, had to the prince, these wordes followyng. “‘Syr, remembre yourselfe, I kepe here the place of the kyng your soueraine lorde and father, to whom ye owe double obedience: wherfore eftsoones in his name, I charge you desyste of your wylfulnes and vnlaufull enterprise, & from hensforth giue good example to those, whyche hereafter shall be your propre subjectes. And nowe, for your contempte and disobedience, go you to the prysone of the kynges benche, wherevnto I commytte you, and remayne ye there prysoner vntyll the pleasure of the kynge your father be further knowen.’ “With whiche wordes being abashed, and also wondrynge at the meruaylous gravitie of that worshypfulle justyce, the noble prince layinge his weapon aparte, doying reuerence, departed, and wente to the kynges benche, as he was commanded. Wherat his servauntes disdaynynge, came and shewed to the kynge all the hole affaire. Whereat he awhyles studyenge, after as a man all rauyshed with gladnes, holdynge his eien and handes vp towarde heuen, abraided, saying with a loude voice, ‘O mercifull God, howe moche am I, aboue all other men, bounde to your infinite goodnes, specially for that ye haue gyuen me a iuge, who feareth nat to minister iustyce, and also a sonne, who can suffre semblably, and obeye iustyce!’” And here it may be noted, that Shakspeare has deviated from history in bringing the Chief Justice and Henry V. together, for it is expressly said by Fuller, in his Worthies of Yorkshire, and that on the best authority, that Gascoigne died in the life-time of his father, viz. on the first day of November, 14 Henry IV. See Dugd. Origines Juridic. in the Chronica Series, fol. 54, 56. Neither is it to be presumed but that this laboured defence of his conduct is a fiction of the poet: and it may justly be inferred from the character of this very able lawyer, whose name frequently occurs in the year-book of his time, that, having had spirit and resolution to vindicate the authority of the law, in the punishment of the prince, he disdained a formal apology for an act that is recorded to his honour. Sir J. Hawkins. In the foregoing account of this transaction, there is no mention of the Prince's having struck Gascoigne, the Chief Justice. Holinshed, however, whom our author copied, speaking of the “wanton pastime” in which Prince Henry passed his youth, says, that “where on a time hee stroke the chiefe justice on the face with his fiste, for emprisoning one of his mates, he was not only committed to straighte prison himselfe by the sayde chief justice, but also of his father put out of the privie counsell and banished the courte.” Holinshed has here followed Hall. Our author (as an anonymous writer has observed) [Mr. Ritson] might have found the same circumstance in the old play of King Henry V. With respect to the anachronism, Sir William Gascoigne certainly died before the accession of Henry V. to the throne, as appears from the inscription which was once legible on his tombstone, in Harwood church, in Yorkshire, and was as follows: “Hic jacet Wil'mus Gascoigne, nuper capit. justic. de banco, Hen. nuper regis Angliæ quarti, qui quidem Wil'mus ob. die domi'ca 17.a die Decembris. an dom. 1412, 14.to Henrici quarti, factus index, 1491.” See Gent. Magazine, vol. li. p. 624. Shakspeare, however, might have been misled on the authority of Stowe, who in a marginal note, 1 Henry V. erroneously asserts that “William Gascoigne was chief justice of the Kings Bench from the sixt of Henry IV. to the third of Henry the Fift:” or, (which is full as probable,) Shakspeare might have been careless about the matter. Malone.

Note return to page 517 *Mr. Oldys, in a manuscript note in his copy of Langbaine, says, that Tarleton appeared in the character of the Judge who receives the box on the ear. This Judge is likewise a character in the old play. I may add, on the authority of the books at Stationers' Hall, that Tarleton published what he called his Farewell, a ballad, in Sept. 1588. In Oct. 1589, was entered, “Tarleton's Repentance, and his Farewell to his Friends in his Sickness a little before his Death;” in 1590, “Tarleton's Newes out of Purgatorie;” and in the same year, “A pleasaunt Ditty Dialogue-wise, between Tarlton's Ghost and Robyn Good-fellowe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 518 1O, for a muse of fire, &c.] This goes upon the notion of the Peripatetic system, which imagines several heavens one above another; the last and highest of which was one of fire. Warburton. It alludes likewise to the aspiring nature of fire, which, by its levity, at the separation of the chaos, took the highest seat of all the elements. Johnson. “This,” says Dr. Warburton, “goes upon the notion of the Peripatetic system, which imagines several heavens one above another; the last and highest of which was one of fire.” We have here one of the very best specimens of the doctor's flights of fancy. Shakspeare, in all probability, knew nothing of the Peripatetic philosophy; he simply wishes for poetic fire, and a due portion of inventive genius. The other explanation by Dr. Johnson seems likewise too refined. Douce.

Note return to page 519 2&lblank; princes to act, And monarchs to behold &lblank;] Shakspeare does not seem to set distance enough between the performers and spectators. Johnson.

Note return to page 520 3Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire, Crouch for employment.] In King Henry VI. “Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire,” are called the three attendants on the English General, Lord Talbot; and, as I suppose, are the dogs of war mentioned in Julius Cæsar. This image of the warlike Henry very much resembles Montfaucon's description of the Mars discovered at Bresse, who leads a lion and a lioness in couples, and crouching as for employment. Tollet. Warner, in his Albion's England, 1602, speaking of King Henry V. says: “He led good fortune in a line, and did but war and win.” Holinshed, (p. 567,) when the people of Roan petitioned King Henry V. has put this sentiment into his mouth: “He declared that the goddesse of battell, called Bellona, had three handmaidens, ever of necessitie attending upon her, as blood, fire, and famine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 521 4&lblank; spirit,] Old copy—spirits. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 522 5Within this wooden O,] Nothing shows more evidently the power of custom over language, than that the frequent use of calling a circle an O could so much hide the meanness of the metaphor from Shakspeare, that he has used it many times where he makes his most eager attempts at dignity of style. Johnson. Johnson's criticism on Shakspeare's calling a circle an O, is rather injudiciously introduced in this place, where it was evidently the poet's intention to represent the circle in which they acted in as contemptible a light as he could. M. Mason. “Within this wooden O.” An allusion to the theatre where this history was exhibited, being, from its circular form, called The Globe. The same expression is applied, for the like reason, to the world, in Antony and Cleopatra: “A sun and moon which kept their course, and lighted “The little o, the earth.” I know not whether Shakspeare calls the Globe playhouse a cock-pit, from its being a round building, or else from its serving that purpose also: the latter appears probable, from his styling the floor an unworthy scaffold, which suggests the idea of its being temporary, and that the edifice answered both turns, by means of a slight alteration. Henley. This theatre, like all our ancient ones, was denominated from its sign, viz. The Globe, and not from its shape. Had playhouses been named with reference to their form of construction, what sort of building could have corresponded with the title of a Red Bull, a Curtain, a Fortune, Cross Keys, a Phœnix, &c.?” Shakspeare, meaning to degrade the stage he was describing, may call it a cock-pit, because a cock-pit was the most diminutive enclosure present to his mind; or, perhaps, because there was a playhouse called The Cock-pit, at which King Henry V. might first have been acted. N. B. From Mr. Henley's own drawing of The Globe, the outside of it, at least, appears to have been octagonal. Steevens. Mr. Steevens's first explanation was the right one. The playhouse called the Cock-pit was not built till several years after the appearance of Henry V. See the History of the English Stage, vol. iii. Malone.

Note return to page 523 6&lblank; the very casques,] The helmets. Johnson. “The very casques,” does not mean the identical casques, but the casques, only, the casques alone. So, in The Taming of the Shrew, Katharine says to Grumio: “&lblank; Thou false deluding slave, “That feed'st me with the very name of meat.” The very name, means here, the name only. M. Mason. “The very casques,” are—even the casques or helmets; much less the men by whom they were worn. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; for fear “Thy very stones prate of my whereabout.” Malone.

Note return to page 524 7&lblank; casques, That did affright the air &lblank;] Thus Prudentius, in Psychomachia, 297: &lblank; clypeo dum territat auras. Steevens.

Note return to page 525 8&lblank; imaginary forces &lblank;] Imaginary for imaginative, or your powers of fancy. Active and passive words are by this author frequently confounded. Johnson.

Note return to page 526 9Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder.] Perilous narrow, in burlesque and common language, meant no more than very narrow. In old books this mode of expression occurs perpetually. A perilous broad brim to a hat, a perilous long sword, &c. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Humourous Lieutenant: “She is perilous crafty.” Thus, villainous is only used to exaggerate, in The Tempest: “&lblank; be turn'd to barnacles or apes “With foreheads villainous low.” Again, in John Florio's Preface to his translation of Montaigne: “&lblank; in this perilous crook'd passage &lblank;.” The narrow seas, however, were always reckoned dangerous, insomuch that Golding, in his version of the 14th book of Ovid's Metamorphosis, translates—Sævior illa freto surgente,— “&lblank; the lady crueller “Than are the rising narrow seas.” Again, in Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy, edit. 1632, p. 326: “How full of feare, how furious? “The narrow seas are not so boisterous.” Steevens. The present reading is right, but there should be a comma between the words perilous and narrow, as it was by no means Shakspeare's intention to join them together, and to make a burlesque phrase of them, such as Steevens describes. The perilousness of the ocean to be passed by the army, before the meeting of the kings, adds to the grandeur and interest of the scene; and it is well known that narrow seas are the most perilous. So, the Chorus in the next Act insinuates that it was necessary, “&lblank; To charm the narrow seas “To give them gentle pass.” And in The Merchant of Venice, the narrow seas are made the scene of shipwrecks, where Salarino says, “Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas; the Goodwins I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal,” &c. M. Mason.

Note return to page 527 1Into a thousand parts divide one man,] The meaning of this is, ‘Suppose every man to represent a thousand;’ but it is very ill expressed. M. Mason.

Note return to page 528 2And make imaginary puissance:] This shows that Shakspeare was fully sensible of the absurdity of showing battles on the theatre, which, indeed, is never done, but tragedy becomes, farce. Nothing can be represented to the eye, but by something like it, and within a wooden O nothing very like a battle can be exhibited. Johnson. Other authors of that age seem to have been sensible of the same absurdities. In Heywood's Fair Maid of the West, 1631, a Chorus enters and says: “Our stage so lamely can express a sea, “That we are forc'd by Chorus to discourse “What should have been in action,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 529 3For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there;] We may read king for kings. The prologue relates only to this single play. The mistake was made by referring them to kings, which belongs to thoughts. The sense is, ‘your thoughts must give the king his proper greatness; carry therefore your thoughts here and there, jumping over time, and crouding years into an hour.’ Johnson. I am not sure that Dr. Johnson's observation is just. In this play the king of France, as well as England, makes his appearance; and the sense may be this:—“It must be to your imaginations that our kings are indebted for their royalty.’ Let the fancy of the spectator furnish out those appendages to greatness which the poverty of our stage is unable to supply. The poet is still apologizing for the defects of theatrical representation.” Steevens. Johnson is, in my opinion, mistaken also in his explanation of the remainder of the sentence. “Carry them here and there” does not mean, as he supposes, ‘Carry your thoughts here and there;’ for the Chorus not only calls upon the imagination of the audience to adorn his kings, but to carry them also from one place to another, though by a common poetical licence the copulative be omitted. M. Mason.

Note return to page 530 4&lblank; jumping o'er times;] So, in the prologue to Troilus and Cressida: “Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 531 5This first scene was added since the edition of 1608, which is much short of the present editions, wherein the speeches are generally enlarged and raised: several whole scenes besides, and all the chorusses also, were since added by Shakspeare. Pope.

Note return to page 532 6London.] It appears from Hall's and Holinshed's Chronicles, that the business of this scene was transacted at Leicester, where King Henry V. held a parliament in the second year of his reign. But the chorus at the beginning of the second Act shows that the author intended to make London the place of his first scene. Malone.

Note return to page 533 7&lblank; of Canterbury,] Henry Chicheley, a Carthusian monk, recently promoted to the see of Canterbury. Malone

Note return to page 534 8Ely.] John Fordham, consecrated 1388; died 1426. Reed.

Note return to page 535 9&lblank; the scambling and unquiet time &lblank;] In the household book of the 5th Earl of Northumberland there is a particular section, appointing the order of service for the scambling days in Lent; that is, days on which no regular meals were provided, but every one scambled, i. e. scrambled and shifted for himself as well as he could. So, in the old noted book intitled Leicester's Commonwealth, one of the marginal heads is, “Scrambling between Leicester and Huntington at the upshot.” Where in the text, the author says, “Hastings, for ought I see, when hee commeth to the scambling, is like to have no better luck by the beare [Leicester] then his ancestour had once by the boare.” [K. Richard III.] edit. 1641, 12mo. p. 87. So again, Shakspeare himself makes King Henry V. say to the Princess Katharine, “I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore prove a good soldier-breeder.” Act V. Percy. Shakspeare uses the same word in Much Ado About Nothing: “Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys.” Again, in The Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1608: “Leave us to scamble for her getting out.” See vol. vii. p. 134, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 536 1&lblank; out of further question.] i. e. of further debate. Malone. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “If we contemn, out of our question wipe him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 537 2A thousand pounds by the year:] Hall, who appears to have been Shakspeare's authority, in the above enumeration, says, “and the kyng to have clerely in his cofers twentie thousand poundes.” Reed.

Note return to page 538 3The breath no sooner left his father's body, But that his wildness, mortified in him, Seem'd to die too:] The same thought occurs in the last scene of the preceding play, where Henry V. says: “My father is gone wild into his grave, “For in his tomb lie my affections.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 539 4Consideration like an angel, &c.] As paradise, when sin and Adam were driven out by the angel, became the habitation of celestial spirits, so the king's heart, since consideration has driven out his follies, is now the receptacle of wisdom and of virtue. Johnson. Mr. Upton observes that, according to the Scripture expression, the old Adam, or the old man, signified man in an unregenerated or gentile state. Malone.

Note return to page 540 5Never came reformation in a flood,] Alluding to the method by which Hercules cleansed the famous stables, when he turned a river through them. Hercules still is in our author's head when he mentions the Hydra. Johnson.

Note return to page 541 6With such a heady current,] Old copy—currance. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 542 7Hear him but reason in divinity, &c.] This speech seems to have been copied from King James's prelates, speaking of their Solomon; when Archbishop Whitgift, who, as an eminent writer says, “died soon afterwards, and probably doated then, at the Hampton-Court conference, declared himself verily persuaded, that his sacred majesty spake by the spirit of God.” And, in effect, this scene was added after King James's accession to the crown: so that we have no way of avoiding its being esteemed a compliment to him, but by supposing it a compliment to his bishops. Warburton. Why these lines should be divided from the rest of the speech and applied to King James, I am not able to conceive; nor why an opportunity should be so eagerly snatched to treat with contempt that part of his character which was the least contemptible. King James's theological knowledge was not inconsiderable. To preside at disputations is not very suitable to a king, but to understand the questions is surely laudable. The poet, if he had James in his thoughts, was no skilful encomiast; for the mention of Harry's skill in war forced upon the remembrance of his audience the great deficiency of their present king; who yet, with all his faults, and many faults he had, was such, that Sir Robert Cotton says, “he would be content that England should never have a better, provided that it should never have a worse.” Johnson. Those who are solicitous that justice should be done to the theological knowledge of our British Solomon, may very easily furnish themselves with specimens of it from a book entitled, Rex Platonicus, sive de potentissimi Principis Jacobi Britanniarum Regis ad illustrissimam Academiam Oxoniensem adventu, Aug. 27. Anno 1605. In this performance we may still hear him reasoning in Divinity, Physick, Jurisprudence, and Philosophy. On the second of these subjects he has not failed to express his well-known enmity to tobacco, and throws out many a royal witticism on the “Medici Nicotianistæ,” and “Tobacconistæ” of the age; insomuch, that Isaac Wake, the chronicler of his triumphs at Oxford, declares, that “nemo nisi iniquissimus rerum æstimator, bonique publici pessimè invidus Jacobo nostro recusabit immortalem gloriæ aram figere, qui ipse adeo mirabilem in Theologiæ, Jurisprudentiæ, et Medicinæ arcanis peritiam eamque planè divinitùs assecutus est, ut,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 543 8The air, &c.] This line is exquisitely beautiful. Johnson. The same thought occurs in As You Like It, Act II. Sc. VII.: “&lblank; I must have liberty “Withal, as large a charter as the wind, “To blow on whom I please.” Malone.

Note return to page 544 9So that the art and practick part of life &lblank;] He discourses with so much skill on all subjects, that “the art and practice of life must be the mistress or teacher of his theorick;” that is, ‘that his theory must have been taught by art and practice;’ which, says he, is strange, since he could see little of the true art or practice among his loose companions, nor ever retired to digest his practice into theory. Art is used by the author for practice, as distinguished from science or theory. Johnson.

Note return to page 545 1&lblank; to this theorick:] Theorick is what terminates in speculation. So, in The Valiant Welshman, 1615: “&lblank; son Caradoc, “'Tis yet unfit that, on this sudden warning, “You leave your fair wife to the theorique “Of matrimonial pleasure and delight.” Bookish theorick is mentioned in Othello. Steevens. In our author's time this word was always used where we now use theory. See vol. x. p. 443, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 546 2&lblank; companies &lblank;] Is here used for companions. It is used by other authors of Shakspeare's age in the same sense. See vol. v. p. 188, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 547 3&lblank; popularity.] i. e. plebeian intercourse; an unusual sense of the word: though perhaps the same idea was meant to be communicated by it in King Henry IV. Part I. where King Richard II. is represented as having “Enfeoff'd himself to popularity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 548 4The strawberry, &c.] i. e. the wild fruit so called, that grows in the woods. Steevens.

Note return to page 549 5&lblank; crescive in his faculty.] Increasing in its proper power. Johnson. “Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night “Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.” Crescit occulto velut arbor ævo Fama Marcelli. Crescive is a word used by Drant, in his translation of Horace's Art of Poetry, 1567: “As lusty youths of crescive age doe flourishe freshe and grow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 550 6&lblank; swaying more upon our part,] Swaying is inclining. So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Now sways in this way, like a mighty sea,— “Now sways it that way.” Malone.

Note return to page 551 7The severals, and unhidden passages,] This line I suspect of corruption, though it may be fairly enough explained: the passages of his titles are the lines of succession by which his claims descend. Unhidden is open, clear. Johnson. I believe we should read several, instead of severals. M. Mason.

Note return to page 552 8Send for him, good uncle.] The person here addressed was Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset, who was half-brother to King Henry IV. being one of the sons of John of Gaunt, by Katharine Swynford. Shakspeare is a little too early in giving him the title of Duke of Exeter; for when Harfleur was taken, and he was appointed governour of the town, he was only Earl of Dorset. He was not made Duke of Exeter till the year after the battle of Agincourt, Nov. 14, 1416. Malone. Perhaps Shakspeare confounded this character with that of John Holland, Duke of Exeter, who was married to Elizabeth, the king's aunt. He was executed at Plashey in 1400: but with this circumstance our author might have been unacquainted. See Remarks, &c. on the last edition of Shakspeare, [i. e. that of 1778,] p. 239. Steevens.

Note return to page 553 9Shall we call in, &c.] Here began the old play. Pope.

Note return to page 554 1&lblank; task &lblank;] Keep busied with scruples and laborious disquisitions. Johnson.

Note return to page 555 2Or nicely charge your understanding soul &lblank;] Take heed, lest by nice and subtle sophistry you burthen your knowing soul, or knowingly burthen your soul, with the guilt of advancing a false title, or of maintaining, by specious fallacies, a claim which, if shown in its native and true colours, would appear to be false. Johnson.

Note return to page 556 3&lblank; miscreate,] Ill-begotten, illegitimate, spurious. Johnson.

Note return to page 557 4&lblank; in approbation &lblank;] i. e. in proving and supporting that title which shall be now set up. So, in Braithwaite's Survey of Histories, 1614: “Composing what he wrote, not by report of others, but by the approbation of his own eyes.” Again, in The Winter's Tale: “That lack'd sight only;—nought for approbation, “But only seeing.” Malone.

Note return to page 558 5&lblank; take heed how you impawn our person,] The whole drift of the king is to impress upon the archbishop a due sense of the caution with which he is to speak. He tells him that the crime of unjust war, if the war be unjust, shall rest upon him: “Therefore take heed how you impawn your person.” So, I think, it should be read, Take heed how you pledge yourself, your honour, your happiness, in support of bad advice. Dr. Warburton explains impawn by engage, and so escapes the difficulty. Johnson. The allusion here is to the game of chess, and the disposition of the pawns with respect to the King, at the commencement of this mimetick contest. Henley. To engage and to pawn were, in our author's time, synonymous. See Minsheu's Dictionary, in v. engage. But the word pawn, had not, I believe, at that time, its present signification. To impawn seems here to have the same meaning as the French phrase se commettre. Malone.

Note return to page 559 6&lblank; brief mortality.] Nulla brevem dominum sequetur. Horace. Steevens.

Note return to page 560 7Under this conjuration,] The quartos, 1600 and 1608, read: “After this conjuration &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 561 *Folio, Which owe yourselves, your lives, and services.

Note return to page 562 8&lblank; There is no bar, &c.] This whole speech is copied (in a manner verbatim) from Hall's Chronicle, Henry V. year the second, folio iv. xx. xxx. xl. &c. In the first edition it is very imperfect, and the whole history and names of the princes are confounded; but this was afterwards set right, and corrected from the original, Hall's Chronicle. Pope. This speech (together with the Latin passage in it) may as well be said to be taken from Holinshed as from Hall. Steevens. See a subsequent note, in which it is proved that Holinshed, and not Hall, was our author's historian. The same facts, indeed, are told in both, Holinshed being a servile copyist of Hall; but Holinshed's book was that which Shakspeare read; and therefore I always quote it in preference to the elder chronicle, contrary to the rule that ought in general to be observed. Malone.

Note return to page 563 9&lblank; gloze,] Expound, explain, and sometimes comment upon. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; you have said well; “And on the cause and question now in hand, “Have gloz'd but superficially.” Reed.

Note return to page 564 1To fine his title, &c.] This is the reading of the quarto of 1608; that of the folio is—“To find his title.” I would read: “To line his title with some show of truth.” To line may signify at once to decorate and to strengthen. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; did line the rebel “With hidden help and vantage &lblank;.” Dr. Warburton says, that “to fine his title,” is to refine or improve it. The reader is to judge. I now belive that find is right; the jury finds for the plaintiff, or finds for the defendant; to find his title is, “to determine in favour of his title with some show of truth.” Johnson. To fine his title, is to make it showy or specious, by some appearance of justice. Steevens. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “To face the garment of rebellion, “With some fine colour.” The words in Holinshed's Chronicle are: “&lblank; to make his title seem true, and appear good, though indeed it was stark naught.”—In Hall, “to make, &c.—though indeed it was both evil and untrue.” Malone. I believe that fine is the right reading, and that the metaphor is taken from the fining of liquors. In the next line the speaker says: “Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught.” It is the jury that finds a verdict, not the plaintiff or defendant, and therefore a man cannot find his own title. M. Mason.

Note return to page 565 2Convey'd himself &lblank;] Derived his title. Our poet found this expression also in Holinshed. Malone.

Note return to page 566 3&lblank; the lady Lingare, Daughter to Charlemain, &c.] By Charles the Great is meant the Emperor Charlemagne, son of Pepin: Charlemain is Charlechauve, or Charles the Bald, who, as well as Charles le Gros, assumed the title of Magnus. See Goldasti Animadversiones in Einhardum. Edit. 1711, p. 157. But then Charlechauve had only one daughter, named Judith, married, or, as some say, only betrothed, to our King Ethelwulf, and carried off, after his death, by Baldwin the forester, afterward Earl of Flanders, whom, it is very certain, Hugh Capet was neither heir to, nor any way descended from. This Judith, indeed, had a great-grand-daughter called Luitgarde, married to a Count Wichman, of whom nothing further is known. It was likewise the name of Charlemagne's fifth wife; but no such female as Lingare is to be met with in any French historian. In fact, these fictitious personages and pedigrees seem to have been devised by the English heralds, to “fine a title with some show of truth,” which, “in pure truth was corrupt and naught.” It was manifestly impossible that Henry, who had no hereditary title to his own dominions, could derive one, by the same colour, to another person's. He merely proposes the invasion and conquest of France, in prosecution of the dying advice of his father: “&lblank; to busy giddy minds “In foreign quarrels; that action, thence borne out, “Might waste the memory of former days:” that his subjects might have sufficient employment to mislead their attention from the nakedness of his title to the crown. The zeal and eloquence of the Archbishop are owing to similar motives. Ritson.

Note return to page 567 4&lblank; Also king Lewis the tenth,] The word ninth has been inserted by some of the modern editors. The old copies read tenth. Ninth is certainly wrong, and tenth certainly right. Isabel was the wife of Philip the second, father of Lewis the ninth, and grandfather of Lewis the tenth. Ritson. “&lblank; Lewis the tenth.” This is a mistake, (as is observed in The Gentleman's Magazine, vol. liii. Part II. p. 588,) into which Shakspeare was led by Holinshed, (vol. ii. p. 546, edit. 1577), whom he copied. St. Lewis, (for he is the person here described,) the grandson of Queen Isabel, the wife of Philip II. King of France, was Lewis the Ninth. He was the son of Lewis VIII. by the Lady Blanch of Castile. In Hall's Chronicle, Henry V. folio iiii. b. (which Holinshed has closely followed, except in this particular error, occasioned by either his own or his printer's inaccuracy,) Lewis is rightly called the Ninth. Here therefore we have a decisive proof that our author's guide in all his historical plays was Holinshed, and not Hall. See n. 8, p. 267. I have however left the error uncorrected, on the same principle on which similar errors in Julius Cæsar, into which Shakspeare was led by the old translation of Plutarch, have been suffered to remain undisturbed; and also, because it ascertains a fact of some importance. Malone.

Note return to page 568 5King Lewis his satisfaction,] He had told us just above, that Lewis could not wear the crown with a safe conscience, “till satisfied,” &c. Theobald.

Note return to page 569 6&lblank; imbare their crooked titles &lblank;] Mr. Pope reads: “Than openly imbrace &lblank;.” But where is the antithesis betwixt hide in the preceding line, and imbrace in this? The two old folios read: “Than amply to imbarre &lblank;.” We certainly must read, as Mr. Warburton advised me: “Than amply to imbarre &lblank;.” lay open, display to view. I am surprized Mr. Pope did not start this conjecture, as Mr. Rowe had led the way to it in his edition; who reads: “Than amply to make bare their crooked titles.” Theobald. Mr. Theobald might have found, in the 4to. of 1608, this reading: “Than amply to embrace their crooked causes;” out of which line Mr. Pope formed his reading, erroneous indeed, but not merely capricious. Johnson. The quarto, 1600, reads—imbace. I have met with no example of the word—imbare. To unbar is to open, and might have been the word set down by the poet, in opposition to—bar. So, in the first scene of Timon, the poet says, “I'll unbolt to you.” To embar, however, seems, from the following passage in the first book of Stanyhurst's translation of Virgil, 1583, to signify to break or cut off abruptly: “Heere Venus embarring his tale,” &c. Yet, as to bar, in Much Ado About Nothing, is to strengthen,— “&lblank; that is stronger made, “Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron—,” so, amply to unbar, may mean to weaken by an open display of invalidity. As imbare, however, is not unintelligible, and is defended by the following able criticks, I have left it in the text. Steevens. I have no doubt but imbare is the right reading. Though the editor who has adopted it seems to argue against it, it makes the sense more clear than any of the other readings proposed. Imbare, in the last line, is naturally opposed to hide in that which precedes, and it differs but little from the reading of the quarto 1600. The objection that there is no such word as imbare, can have but little weight. It is a word so fairly deduced, and so easily understood, that an author of much less celebrity than Shakspeare, had a right to coin it. M. Mason. In the folio the word is spelt imbarre. Imbare is, I believe, the true reading. It is formed like impaint, impawn, and many other similar words used by Shakspeare. Malone.

Note return to page 570 *Quarto, grave.

Note return to page 571 7Whiles his most mighty father on a hill Stood smiling, &c.] This alludes to the battle of Cressy, as described by Holinshed: “The earle of Northampton and others sent to the king, where he stood aloft on a windmill-hill; the king demanded if his sonne were slaine, hurt, or felled to the earth. No, said the knight that brought the message, but he is sore matched. Well, (said the king,) returne to him and them that sent you, and saie to them, that they send no more to me for any adventure that falleth, so long as my son is alive; for I will that this journeye be his, with the honour thereof. The slaughter of the French was great and lamentable at the same battle, fought the 26th August, 1346.” Holinshed, vol. ii. p. 372, col. i. Bowle.

Note return to page 572 †Quarto, power.

Note return to page 573 8&lblank; and cold for action!] i. e. cold for want of action. So Lyly, in Euphues and his England, 1581: “&lblank; if he were too long for the bed, Procrustes cut off his legs, for catching cold, i. e. for fear of catching cold. Malone. I always regarded the epithet cold as too clear to need explanation. The soldiers were eager to warm themselves by action, and were cold for want of it. A more recondite meaning, indeed, may be found; a meaning which will be best illustrated by a line in Statius, Theb. vi. 395: Concurrit summos animosum frigus in artus. Steevens.

Note return to page 574 9They know, your grace hath cause, and means, and might; So hath your highness;] We should read: “&lblank; your race had cause,” which is carrying on the sense of the concluding words of Exeter: “As did the former lions of your blood;” meaning Edward III. and the Black Prince. Warburton. I do not see but the present reading may stand as I have pointed it. Johnson. Warburton's amendment is unnecessary; but surely we should point the passage thus: “They know your grace hath cause; and means, and might, “So hath your highness;” Meaning that the king had not only a good cause, but force to support it. So, in this place, has the force of also, or likewise. M. Mason. “So hath your highness.” i. e. your highness hath indeed what they think and know you have. Malone.

Note return to page 575 1With blood, &c.] Old copy—bloods. Corrected in the third folio. Malone. This and the foregoing line Dr. Warburton gives to Westmoreland, but with so little reason that I have continued them to Canterbury. The credit of old copies, though not great, is yet more than nothing. Johnson.

Note return to page 576 2They of those marches,] The marches are the borders, the limits, the confines. Hence the Lords Marchers, i. e. the lords presidents of the marches, &c. So, in the first canto of Drayton's Barons' Wars: “When now the marchers well upon their way,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 577 *Quarto, sneakers.

Note return to page 578 3&lblank; the main intendment of the Scot,] Intendment is here perhaps used for intention, which, in our author's time, signified extreme exertion. The main intendment may, however, mean, the general disposition. Malone. Main intendment, I believe, signifies—exertion in a body. The king opposes it to the less consequential inroads of detached parties. Steevens.

Note return to page 579 4&lblank; giddy neighbour &lblank;] That is, inconstant, changeable. Johnson.

Note return to page 580 5Never went with his forces into France,] The quartos, 1600 and 1608, read: “&lblank; never my great grandfather “Unmask'd his power for France &lblank;.” What an opinion the Scots entertained of the defenceless state of England, may be known by the following passage from The Battle of Floddon, an ancient historical poem: “For England's king, you understand,   “To France is past with all his peers: “There is none at home left in the land,   “But joult-head monks, and bursten freers. “Of ragged rusties, without rules,   “Of priests prating for pudding shives; “Of milners madder than their mules,   “Of wanton clerks, waking their wives.” Thus also in Wyntown's Cronykil, b. viii. ch. xl. v. 96: “Thai sayd, that thai mycht rycht welle fare “Til Lwndyn, for in Ingland than “Of gret mycht wes left ná man, “For, thai sayd, all war in Frawns, “Bot sowteris, skynneris, or marchauns.” Steevens.

Note return to page 581 *Folio, at the ill neighbourhood.

Note return to page 582 6&lblank; fear'd &lblank;] i. e. frightened. Malone. So, in Measure for Measure: “Setting it up to fear the birds of prey.” Steevens.

Note return to page 583 *Quarto, Whom like a caytiffe she did leade to France.

Note return to page 584 8And make your chronicle as rich with praise, &c.] The similitude between the chronicle and the sea consists only in this, that they are both full, and filled with something valuable. The quarto has your, the folio their chronicle. Your and their, written by contraction yr, are just alike, and her, in the old hands, is not much unlike yr. I believe we should read her chronicle. Johnson. Your chronicle means, I think, the chronicle of your kingdom, England. Malone.

Note return to page 585 9&lblank;and sumless treasuries.] The quartos, 1600 and 1608, read: “&lblank; and shipless treasury.” Steevens.

Note return to page 586 1West. But there's a saying, &c.] This speech, which is dissuasive of war with France, is absurdly given to one of the churchmen in confederacy to push the king upon it, as appears by the first scene of this Act. Besides, the poet had here an eye to Hall, who gives this observation to the Duke of Exeter. But the editors have made Ely and Exeter change sides, and speak one another's speeches: for this, which is given to Ely, is Exeter's; and the following given to Exeter, is Ely's. Warburton. This speech is given in the folio to the Bishop of Ely. But it appears from Holinshed, (whom our author followed,) and from Hall, that these words were the conclusion of the Earl of Westmoreland's speech; to whom, therefore, I have assigned them. In the quarto Lord only is prefixed to this speech. Dr. Warburton and the subsequent editors attributed it to Exeter, but certainly without propriety; for he, on the other hand, maintained that “he whiche would Scotland winne, with France must first beginne.” Malone.

Note return to page 587 2If that you will France win, &c.] Hall's Chronicle, Hen. V. year 2, fol. 7, (p. 2,) x. Pope. It is likewise found in Holinshed, and in the old anonymous play of King Henry V. Steevens.

Note return to page 588 3To spoil and havock more than she can eat.] It is not much the quality of the mouse to tear the food it comes at, but to run over it and defile it. The old quarto reads, spoile; and the two first folios, tame: from which last corrupted word, I think, I have retrieved the poet's genuine reading, taint. Theobald.

Note return to page 589 4Yet that is but a curs'd necessity;] So, the old quarto [1600]. The folios read crush'd: neither of the words convey any tolerable idea; but give us a counter-reasoning, and not at all pertinent. We should read—“'scus'd necessity.” It is Exeter's business to show there is no real necessity for staying at home: he must therefore mean, that though there be a seeming necessity, yet it is one that may be well excus'd and got over. Warburton. Neither the old readings nor the emendation seem very satisfactory. “A curs'd necessity” has no sense; “a 'scus'd necessity” is so harsh that one would not admit it, if any thing else can be found. “A crush'd necessity” may mean ‘a necessity which is subdued and overpowered by contrary reasons.’ We might read—“a crude necessity,” a necessity not complete, or not well considered and digested; but it is too harsh. Sir T. Hanmer reads: “Yet that is not o' course a necessity.” Johnson. “A curs'd necessity” means, I believe, only an unfortunate necessity. Curs'd, in colloquial phrase, signifies any thing unfortunate. So we say, such a one leads a cursed life; another has got into a cursed scrape. It may mean, a necessity to be execrated. This vulgarism is often used by Sir Arthur Gorges, in his translation of Lucan, 1614. So, book vii. p. 293: “His cursed fortune he condemned.” Again, p. 297: “&lblank; on the cruel destinies “The people pour out cursed cries.” Again, in Chapman's translation of the 5th Odyssey: “&lblank; while thus discourse he held, “A curs'd surge 'gainst a cutting rock impell'd “His naked body.” Steevens. Mr. M. Mason justly observes that this interpretation, though perhaps the true one, does not agree with the context; [Yet that is but an unfortunate necessity, since we, &c.] and therefore proposes to read— “Yet that is not a curs'd necessity.” But and not are so often confounded in these plays, that I think his conjecture extremely probable. See vol. xiv. p. 92, n. 5. It is certainly (as Dr. Warburton has observed) the speaker's business to show that there is no real necessity for staying at home. Malone.

Note return to page 590 5And pretty traps &lblank;] Thus the old copy; but I believe we should read petty. Pretty, however, is a term colloquially employed by our author in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; my daughter's of a pretty age.” Steevens.

Note return to page 591 6For government, though high, and low, and lower,] The foundation and expression of this thought seems to be borrowed from Cicero, De Republica, lib. ii.: “Sic ex summis, et mediis, et infimis interjectis ordinibus, ut sonis, moderatam ratione civitatem, consensu dissimiliorum concinere; et quæ harmonia à musicis dicitur in cantu, eam esse in civitate concordiam.” Theobald.

Note return to page 592 7&lblank; in one concent;] I learn from Dr. Burney, that consent is connected harmony, in general, and not confined to any specific consonance. “Thus, (says the same elegant and well-informed writer,) concentio and concentus are both used by Cicero for the union of voices or instruments in what we should now call a chorus, or concert. In the same sense I suppose Ben Jonson to have used the word in his Volpone, Act III. Sc. IV.: “&lblank; as Plato holds, your music “(And so does wise Pythagoras, I take it) “Is your true rapture, when there is consent “In face, in voice,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 593 8Congruing &lblank;] The folio has congreeing. The quarto congrueth. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone. In the old quarto, 1608, the passage stands thus: “For government, though high or low, being put into parts, “Congrueth with a mutuall consent like musicke.” Steevens.

Note return to page 594 9Setting endeavour in continual motion; To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, Obedience:] Neither the sense nor the construction of this passage is very obvious. The construction is, ‘endeavour,—as an aim or butt to which endeavour, obedience is fixed.’ The sense is, ‘that all endeavour is to terminate in obedience, to be subordinate to the publick good and general design of government.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 595 1The act of order &lblank;] Act here means law, or statute; as appears from the old quarto, where the words are, “Creatures that by awe ordain an act of order to a peopled kingdom.” Mr. Pope changed act to art, and was followed by all the subsequent editors. Malone.

Note return to page 596 2&lblank; for so work the honey bees; &lblank; They have a king, &c.] Our author, in this parallel, had, I have no doubt, the following passage, in Lyly's Euphues and his England, 1580, in view: “In like manner, Euphues, is the government of a monarchie,—that it is neither the wise foxe nor the malicious woolfe, should venture so farre, as to learne whether the lyon sleepe or wake in his denne, whether the prince fast or feast in the court; but this should be their order,—to understand there is a king, but what he doth, is for the gods to examine, whose ordinance he is, not for men whose overseer he is. Then how vain is it,—that the foot should neglect his office, to correct the face; or that subjects should seeke more to know what their princes doe, than what they are; wherein they shew themselves as bad as beasts, and much worse than my bees, who, in my conceit, observe more order than they. If I might crave pardon, I would a little acquaint you with the commonwealth of my bees.—I have for the space of these twenty yeeres dwelt in this place, taking no delight in any thing but only keeping my bees, and marking them; and this I find, which had I not seen I should hardly have believed, that they use as great wit by induction, and art by workmanship, as ever man hath or can; using between themselves no lesse justice than wisdome, and yet not so much wisdome as majestie; insomuch as thou wouldest thinke that they were a kind of people, a commonwealth of Plato; where they all labour, all gather hony, flie together in a swarme, eat in a swarme, and sleepe in a swarme. They live under a law, using great reverence to their elder as to the wiser. They choose a king, whose palace they frame, both braver in shew, and stronger in substance.—If their prince die, they know not how to live; they languish, weepe, sigh, neither intending their worke, nor keeping their old society. And that which is most marvellous and almost incredible, if there be any that hath disobeyed his commandment, either of purpose or unwitting, he killeth himself with his own sting, as an executioner to his own stubbornnesse. The king himselfe hath a sting, which he useth rather for honour than punishment. And yet, Euphues, albeit they live under a prince, they have their priviledges, and as great liberties as strait lawes. They call a parliament, wherein they consult for lawes, statutes, penalties, choosing officers, and creating their king.—Every one hath his office; some trimming the honey, some working the wax, one framing hives, another the combes; and that so artificially, that Dedalus could not with greater art or excellency better dispose the orders, measures, proportions, distinctions, joints, and circles. Diverse hew, others polish, and are careful to do their worke so strongly as they may resist the craft of such drones as seek to live by their labours; which maketh them to keepe watch and ward, as living in a camp to others, and as in a court to themselves.—When they goe forth to worke, they marke the winde, the clouds, and whatsoever doth threaten either their ruin or rage; and having gathered out of every flower hony, they return, loaded in their mouthes, thighes, winges, and all the body; whom they that tarried at home receive readily, as easing their backs of so great burthens. The king himselfe, not idle, goeth up and down, intreating, threatening, commanding; using the counsel of a sequell, but not losing the dignity of a prince; preferring those that labour in greater authority, and punishing those that loiter with due severity.”—“The commonwealth of your bees [replied Euphues] did so delight me, that I was not a little sorry, that either their estates have not been longer, or your leisure more; for in my simple judgment, there was such an orderly government that men may not be ashamed to imitate them.” Malone.

Note return to page 597 3&lblank; and officers of sorts:] Thus the folio. The quarto reads —sort; i. e. high rank. See vol. vii. p. 7, n. 7; and vol. ix. p. 171, n. 2. Malone. “Officers of sorts” means ‘officers of different degrees.’ In a London haberdasher's bill to his customer in the country. I lately saw the following charge: “To thread of sorts;” i. e. of different kinds. Steevens. In confirmation of Mr. Steevens's opinion it may be observed, that in A True Relation of the Admirable Voyage and Travel of William Bush, &c. 4to. 1607, we have “&lblank; drummes and sortes of musicke.” Reed.

Note return to page 598 4&lblank; venture trade abroad;] To venture trade is a phrase of the same import and structure as to hazard battle. Johnson.

Note return to page 599 5The singing masons &lblank;] Our author probably had here two images in his thoughts. The hum of a bee is obvious. I believe he was also thinking of a common practice among masons, who, like many other artificers, frequently sing while at work: a practice that could not have escaped his observation. Malone.

Note return to page 600 6&lblank; civil &lblank;] i. e. sober, grave. So, in Twelfth Night: “Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil.” See vol. xi. p. 448, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 601 7&lblank; kneading up the honey;] To knead the honey gives an easy sense, though not physically true. The bees do, in fact, knead the wax more than the honey, but that Shakspeare perhaps did not know. Johnson. The old quartos read—“lading up the honey.” Steevens.

Note return to page 602 8&lblank; to éxecutors &lblank;] Executors is here used for executioners. Malone. It is so used by other authors. Thus, Burton, in the preface to his Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 38, edit. 1632: “&lblank; tremble at an executor, and yet not feare hell-fire.” Steevens.

Note return to page 603 9Without defeat.] The quartos 1600 and 1608 read: “Without defect.” Steevens.

Note return to page 604 1&lblank; empery,] This word, which signifies dominion, is now obsolete, though formerly in general use. So, in Claudius Tiberius Nero, 1607: “Within the circuit of our empery.” Steevens.

Note return to page 605 2&lblank; with a paper epitaph.] This is the reading of the quartos, adopted by Mr. Malone. Mr. Steevens reads with the folio—waxen. Either a waxen or a paper epitaph is an epitaph easily obliterated or destroyed; one which can confer no lasting honour on the dead. To the ancient practice of writing on waxen tablets Shakspeare again alludes in the first scene of Timon of Athens: “&lblank; but moves itself “In a wide sea of wax.” See notes on this passage. Thus also, in G. Whetstone's Garden of Unthriftiness, 1576: “In waxe, say I, men easily grave their will;   “In marble stone the worke with paine is wonne: “But perfect once, the print remaineth still,   “When waxen seales by every browse are donne.” Steevens. The second reading is more unitelligible, to me at least, than the other: a grave not dignified with the slightest memorial. Johnson. I think this passage has been misunderstood. Henry says, “he will either rule with full dominion in France, or die in the attempt, and lay his bones in a paltry urn, without a tomb, or any remembrance over him.” With a view to the alternative that he has just stated, he adds, by way of apposition and illustration, “either the English Chronicles shall speak, trumpet-tongued, to the world, of my victories in France, or, being defeated there, my death shall scarcely be mentioned in history; shall not be honoured by the best epitaph a prince can have, the written account of his achievements.”—A paper epitaph, therefore, or, in other words, an historical eulogy, instead of a slight token of respect, is mentioned by Henry as the most honourable memorial; and Dr. Johnson's objection founded on the incongruity of saying that his grave should not be dignified by the slightest memorial, falls to the ground. Dryden has a similar expression in the dedication of his poem entitled Eleonora to the Earl of Abingdon: “Be pleased to accept of these my unworthy labours; this paper monument.” The misrepresentation, I conceive, arose from understanding a figurative expression literally, and supposing that a paper epitaph meant an epitaph written on a paper, to be affixed to a tomb. Waxen, the reading of the folio, when it is used by Shakspeare metaphorically, signifies soft, yielding, taking an impression easily; (so, in Twelfth-Night, “women's waxen hearts;” and, in The Rape of Lucrece, “For men have marble, women waxen minds,” &c.) and consequently might mean also—easily obliterated: but this meaning is quite inconsistent with the context; for in the former part of the passage the event of Henry's being buried without a tomb, and without an epitaph, has been already stated, and therefore the want of an epitaph (in its literal acceptation) could not with propriety again be insisted on, in the latter member of the sentence, which relates to a different point; the question in this place being only, whether his deeds should be emblazoned by narration, or his actions and his bones together consigned to “dust and damn'd oblivion.” If any alteration was made by the author, in this passage, he might perhaps have changed the epithet paper to lasting; and the transcriber who prepared the folio copy for the press, might have been deceived by his ear, and have written waxen instead of the latter word. There is not indeed much similarity in the sound of the two words; but mistakes equally gross are found in these plays, which, it is highly probable, happened in this way. Thus, in this very play, the folio has name for mare. See p. 296, n. 5. Our poet's 55th Sonnet furnishes a strong confirmation of my interpretation of this passage: “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments “Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme; “But you shall shine more bright in these contents “Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. “When wasteful war shall statues overturn, “And broils root out the work of masonry, “Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire, shall burn “The living record of your memory;” &c. So also, in his 81st Sonnet: “Your monument shall be my gentle verse.” Malone. Mr. Gifford thinks the expression—a waxen epitaph, alludes to a custom still prevalent on the Continent, and anciently in this country, to affix laudatory poems, epitaphs, &c. to the herse, with pins, wax, paste, &c. See his edition of Ben Jonson, vol. ix. p. 58. Boswell.

Note return to page 606 *Quarto, pleasure.

Note return to page 607 3&lblank; a nimble galliard won;] A galliard was an ancient dance, now obsolete. So, in All for Money, 1574: “Where shall we get a pipe, to play the devil a galliard?” Steevens. Galliards are thus described by Sir John Davis, in his poem called Orchestra: “But for more diverse and more pleasing show,   “A swift and wand'ring dance she did invent, “With passages uncertain to and fro,   “Yet with a certain answer and consent   “To the quick musick of the instrument.     “Five was the number of the musick's feet,     “Which still the dance did with five paces meet; “A gallant dance, that lively doth bewray   “A spirit and a virtue masculine, “Impatient that her house on earth should stay,   “Since she herself is fiery and divine:   “Oft doth she make her body upward fine;     “With lofty turns and capriols in the air,     “Which with the lusty tunes accordeth fair.” Reed.

Note return to page 608 4Tennis-balls, my liege.] In the old play of King Henry V. already mentioned, this present consists of a gilded tun of tennis-balls and a carpet. Steevens.

Note return to page 609 5We are glad, the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;] Thus stands the answer of King Henry in the same old play: “My lord, prince Dolphin is very pleasant with me. “But tell him, that instead of balls of leather, “We will toss him balls of brass and of iron: “Yea, such balls as never were toss'd in France. “The proudest tennis-court in France shall rue it.” The same circumstance also is thus expressed in Michael Drayton's Battle of Agincourt: “I'll send him balls and rackets if I live; “That they such racket shall in Paris see, “When over line with bandies I shall drive; “As that, before the set be fully done, “France may perhaps into the hazard run.” Steevens.

Note return to page 610 6&lblank; chaces.] Chace is a term at tennis. Johnson. So, in Sidney's Arcadia, book iii.: “Then Fortune (as if she had made chases enow on the one side of that bloody Tenis-court) went on the other side of the line,” &c. The hazard is a place in the tennis-court into which the ball is sometimes struck. Steevens. A chace, at tennis, is that spot where a ball falls, beyond which the adversary must strike his ball to gain a point or chace. At long tennis, it is the spot where the ball leaves off rolling. We see, therefore, why the king has called himself a wrangler. Douce.

Note return to page 611 7&lblank; this poor seat of England;] By the seat of England, the King, I believe, means the throne. So, Othello boasts that he is descended “from men of royal siege.” Henry afterwards says, he will rouse him in his throne of France. The words below, “I will keep my state,” likewise confirm this interpretation. For this meaning of the word state, see vol. xi. p. 164, n. 5. So, in King Richard II.: “Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills “Against thy seat.” Again, in King Richard III.: “The supreme seat, the throne majestical &lblank;.” Again, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “The rightful heir to England's royal seat.” Malone.

Note return to page 612 8And therefore, living hence,] This expression has strength and energy: he never valued England, and therefore lived hence, i. e. as if absent from it. But the Oxford editor alters hence to here. Warburton. Living hence means, I believe, withdrawing from the court, the place in which he is now speaking. Perhaps Prospero, in The Tempest, has more clearly expressed the same idea, when he says: “The government I cast upon my brother, “And to my state grew stranger.” Steevens. In King Richard II. Act V. Sc. II. King Henry IV. complains that he had not seen his son for three months, and desires that he may be enquired for among the taverns, where he daily frequents,— “With unrestrain'd and loose companions.” See also King Henry IV. Part II. Act III. Sc. II.: “Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, “Which by thy younger brother is supplied; “And art almost an alien to the hearts “Of all the court and princes of my blood.” There can therefore be no doubt that Mr. Steevens's explanation is just. Hence refers to the seat or throne of England mentioned in the preceding line, on which Henry is now sitting. An anonymous Remarker says, “It is evident that the word hence implies here.” If hence means here, any one word, as Dr. Johnson has somewhere observed, may stand for another. It undoubtedly does not signify here in the present passage; and if it did, would render what follows nonsense. Malone. The more I consider this passage, and the remarks of its various commentators, the more convinced I am that the present reading cannot be reconciled to sense. M. Mason.

Note return to page 613 9For that I have laid by &lblank;] To qualify myself for this undertaking, I have descended from my station, and studied the arts of life in a lower character. Johnson. The quartos 1600 and 1608 read—“For this.” Steevens.

Note return to page 614 1&lblank; his balls to gun-stones;] When ordnance was first used, they discharged balls, not of iron, but of stone. Johnson. So, Holinshed, p. 947: “About seaven of the clocke marched forward the light pieces of ordinance, with stone and powder.” In the Brut of England it is said, that when Henry the Fifth before Hare-flete received a taunting message from the Dauphine of France, and a ton of tennis-balls by way of contempt, “he anone lette make tenes balles for the Dolfin (Henry's ship) in all the haste that they myght, and they were great gonnestones for the Dolfin to playe with alle. But this game at tennis was too rough for the besieged, when Henry playede at the tenes with his hard gonnestones,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 615 2&lblank; with reasonable swiftness, add More feathers to our wings;] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; set “The very wings of reason to his heels.” Steevens.

Note return to page 616 3&lblank; task his thought,] The same phrase has already occurred at the beginning of the present scene: “That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.” See p. 265, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 617 4Now all the youth of England &lblank;] I think Mr. Pope mistaken in transposing this Chorus, [to the end of the first scene of the second Act,] and Mr. Theobald in concluding the [first] Act with it. The Chorus evidently introduces that which follows, not comments on that which precedes, and therefore rather begins than ends the Act; and so I have printed it. Johnson.

Note return to page 618 5For now sits Expectation in the air; And hides a sword, from hilts unto the point, With crowns imperial, &c.] The imagery is wonderfully fine, and the thought exquisite. Expectation sitting in the air designs the height of their ambition; and the sword hid from the hilt to the point with crowns and coronets, that all sentiments of danger were lost in the thoughts of glory. Warburton. The idea is taken from the ancient representation of trophies in tapestry or painting. Among these it is very common to see swords encircled with naval or mural crowns. Expectation is likewise personified by Milton, Paradise Lost, book vi.: “&lblank; while Expectation stood “In horror &lblank;.” Steevens. In the Horse Armoury in the Tower of London, Edward III. is represented with two crowns on his sword, alluding to the two kingdoms, France and England, of both of which he was crowned heir. Perhaps the poet took the thought from a similar representation. Tollet. This image, it has been observed by Mr. Henley, is borrowed from a wooden cut in the first edition of Holinshed's Chronicle. Malone.

Note return to page 619 6&lblank; which he &lblank;] i. e. the king of France. So, in King John: “England, impatient of your just demands, “Hath put himself in arms.” Hanmer and some other editors unnecessarily read—she. Again, in a subsequent scene of the play before us: “Though France himself, and such another neighbour, “Stood in our way.” Malone.

Note return to page 620 7&lblank; Richard earl of Cambridge;] Was Richard de Coninsbury, younger son of Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. He was father of Richard Duke of York, father of Edward the Fourth. Walpole.

Note return to page 621 8Henry lord Scroop &lblank;] Was a third husband of Joan Duchess of York, (she had four,) mother-in-law of Richard Earl of Cambridge. Malone.

Note return to page 622 9&lblank; the gilt of France,] Gilt, which, in our author, generally signifies a display of gold, (as in this play, “Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd.”) in the present instance means golden money. So, in An Alarum for London, 1602: “To spend the victuals of our citizens, “Which we can scarcely compass now for gilt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 623 1&lblank; this grace of kings &lblank;] i. e. he who does the greatest honour to the title. By the same kind of phraseology the usurper in Hamlet is called the Vice of kings, i. e. the opprobrium of them. Warburton. Shakspeare might have found this phrase in Chapman's translation of the first book of Homer, 1598: “&lblank; with her the grace of kings, “Wise Ithacus ascended &lblank;.” Again, in the 24th book [no date]: “Idæus, guider of the mules, discern'd this grace of men.” Steevens.

Note return to page 624 2&lblank; well digest &lblank;] The folio, in which only these choruses are found, reads, and perhaps rightly—“we'll digest.” Steevens. This emendation was made by Mr. Pope; and the words— while we, which are not in the old copy, were supplied by him. Malone.

Note return to page 625 3&lblank; while we force a play.] The two first words were added (as it should seem) very properly. To force a play, is to produce a play by compelling many circumstances into a narrow compass. Steevens.

Note return to page 626 4And by their hands this grace of kings must die, (If hell and treason hold their promises,) Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. Linger your patience on; and well digest The abuse of distance, while we force a play. The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; The king is set from London; and the scene Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton: There is the playhouse now,] I suppose every one that reads these lines looks about for a meaning which he cannot find. There is no connection of sense nor regularity of transition from one thought to the other. It may be suspected that some lines are lost, and in that case the sense is irretrievable. I rather think, the meaning is obscured by an accidental transposition, which I would reform thus: “And by their hands this grace of kings must die, “If hell and treason hold their promises. “The sum is paid, the traitors are agreed, “The king is set from London, and the scene “Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton, “Ere he take ship for France. And in Southampton “Linger your patience on, and well digest “The abuse of distance, while we force a play. “There is the playhouse now &lblank;.” This alteration restores sense, and probably the true sense. The lines might be otherwise ranged, but this order pleases me best. Johnson. An unnecessary transposition of these most plain and intelligible lines has been offered by Dr. Johnson, on his supposition that every one who reads them “looks about for a meaning which he cannot find.” In confirmation of their original arrangement, we learn from Stowe and Holinshed, the historians whom Shakspeare followed, and Dr. Johnson perhaps never thought worth consulting, that the plot against the king was laid by the conspirators at Southampton; a circumstance that is weakened, if not altogether cancelled, by the proposed arrangement. See a speech by King Henry in the ensuing act. Douce.

Note return to page 627 5&lblank; charming the narrow seas &lblank;] Though Ben Jonson, as we are told, was indebted to the kindness of Shakspeare for the introduction of his first piece, Every Man in his Humour, on the stage, and though our author performed a part in it, Jonson, in the prologue to that play, as in many other places, endeavoured to ridicule and depreciate him: “He rather prays, you will be pleas'd to see “One such to-day, as other plays should be; “Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the seas,” &c. When this prologue was written is unknown. The envious author of it, however, did not publish it till 1616, the year of Shakspeare's death. Malone. Mr. Gifford has satisfactorily refuted this charge against Jonson. Boswell.

Note return to page 628 6We'll not offend one stomach &lblank;] That is, you shall pass the sea without the qualms of sea-sickness. Johnson.

Note return to page 629 7But, till the king come forth,] Here seems to be something omitted. Sir T. Hanmer reads: “But when the king comes forth &lblank;,” which, as the passage now stands, is necessary. These lines, obscure as they are, refute Mr. Pope's conjectures on the true place of the Chorus; for they show that something is to intervene before the scene changes to Southampton. Johnson. The Canons of Criticism read: “&lblank; and but till then. And Mr. Heath approves the correction. Steevens. Mr. Roderick would read: “&lblank; and but till then;” that is, “till the king appears next, you are to suppose the scene shifted to Southampton, and no longer; for as soon as he comes forth, it will shift to France.” But this does not agree with the fact; for a scene in London intervenes. In The Merchant of Venice, 1600, printed by J. Roberts, but is printed for not: “Repent but you that you shall lose your friend.” and the two words, in many other places, are confounded. See p. 278, n. 4. I suspect but is printed for not in the beginning of the line, and that not has taken the place of but afterwards. If we read: “Not till the king come forth, and but till then &lblank;,” the meaning will be: “We will not shift our scene unto Southampton, till the king makes his appearance on the stage, and the scene will be at Southampton only for the short time while he does appear on the stage; for soon after his appearance, it will change to France.” Malone.

Note return to page 630 8&lblank; lieutenant Bardolph.] At this scene begins the connection of this play with the latter part of King Henry IV. The characters would be indistinct, and the incidents unintelligible, without the knowledge of what passed in the two foregoing plays. Johnson. The author of Remarks on the last edition of Shakspeare [1778] wishes to know, where Bardolph acquired this commission, (as he is no more than Falstaff's corporal in King Henry IV.) and calls on Mr. Steevens for information on this subject. If Shakspeare were now alive, he would perhaps find it as difficult to give the desired information as Mr. Steevens. The intelligent reader must long since have observed that our author not only neglected to compare his plays with each other, but that, even in the same play, “the latter end of his commonwealth sometimes forgets the beginning.” Malone.

Note return to page 631 9&lblank; there shall be smiles;] I suspect smiles to be a marginal direction crept into the text. It is natural for a man, when he threatens, to break off abruptly, and conclude, ‘But that shall be as it may.’ But this fantastical fellow is made to smile disdainfully while he threatens; which circumstance was marked for the player's direction in the margin. Warburton. I do not remember to have met with these marginal directions for expression of countenance in any of our ancient manuscript plays: neither do I see occasion for Dr. Warburton's emendation, as it is vain to seek the precise meaning of every whimsical phrase employed by this eccentric character. Nym, however, having expressed his indifference about the continuation of Pistol's friendship, might have added, ‘when time serves, there shall be smiles,’ i. e. he should be merry, even though he was to lose it; or, that his face would be ready with a smile as often as occasion should call one out into service, though Pistol, who had excited so many, was no longer near him. Dr. Farmer, however, with great probability, would read,—smites, i. e. blows, a word used in the midland counties. Steevens. Perhaps Nym means only to say, I care not whether we are friends at present; however, when time shall serve, we shall be in good humour with each other: but be it as it may. Malone. Perhaps Nym, who is ludicrously stating the degree of courage which he possesses, does not refer in these words to the question which was asked, but talks in the style of Brutus and Cassius: “Bru. If we do meet again, why we shall smile,” &c. “Cas. If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed.” Boswell.

Note return to page 632 1&lblank; the humour of it.] Thus the quarto. The folio reads,— and there's an end. Steevens.

Note return to page 633 2&lblank; and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France:] We should read,—“we'll all go sworn brothers to France, or, we'll all be sworn brothers in France.” Johnson. The humour of sworn brothers should be opened a little. In the time of adventure, it was usual for two chiefs to bind themselves to share in each other's fortune, and divide their acquisitions between them. So, in the Conqueror's expedition, Robert de Oily, and Roger de Ivery, were fratres jurati; and Robert gave one of the honours he received to his sworn brother Roger. So these three scoundrels set out for France, as if they were going to make a conquest of the kingdom. Whalley.

Note return to page 634 3&lblank; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may:] Surely we ought to read, “I will die as I may.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 635 4&lblank; that is my rest,] i. e. what I am resolved on. For a particular account of this phrase, see notes on Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 203, n. 6, and p. 242, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 636 5&lblank; patience be a tired mare,] The folio reads, by corruption, tired name, from which Sir T. Hanmer, sagaciously enough, derived tired dame. Mr. Theobald retrieved from the quarto, tired mare, the true reading. Johnson. So, in Pierce's Supererogation, or a New Praise of the Old Asse, &c.: “Silence is a slave in a chaine, and patience the common packhorse of the world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 637 6Base tike,] Tijk is the Runick word for a little, or worthless dog. So, in King Lear: “Or bobtail tike, or trundle-tail.” This word is still employed in Yorkshire, and means a clown, or rustick. So, in Henry Carey's ballad opera, entitled, The Wonder, an Honest Yorkshireman, 1736: “If you can like “A Yorkshire tike,” &c. Steevens. In Minsheu's Dictionary, 1617, tike is defined, “a worme that sucks the blood.” It is now commonly spelt tick, an animal that infests sheep, dogs, &c. This may have been Pistol's term. Our author has the word in the sense Mr. Steevens has assigned to it, in King Lear; and it occurs with the other signification in Troilus and Cressida. Pistol's next speech, however, supports the former explanation. Malone.

Note return to page 638 7O Lord! here's corporal Nym's.] Before these words, the folio has, “O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not hewn now,” which the following notes refer to. Boswell. The folio—hewn. If he be not hewn must signify, if he be not cut down; and in that case the very thing is supposed which Quickly was apprehensive of. But I rather think her fright arises upon seeing the swords drawn, and I have ventured to make a slight alteration accordingly. “If he be not drawn,” for, “if he has not his sword drawn,” is an expression familiar to our poet. Theobald. The quarto omits this obscure passage, and only gives us,— “O Lord! here's corporal Nym's &lblank;.” But as it cannot be ascertained which words (or whether any) were designedly excluded, I have left both exclamations in the text. Mrs. Quickly, without deviation from her character, may be supposed to utter repeated outcries on the same alarm. And yet I think we might read,— “if he be not hewing.” To hack and hew is a common vulgar expression. So, in If you know not me you know Nobody, by Heywood, 1606: “&lblank; Bones o' me, he would hew it.” Again, in King Edward III. 1599: “The sin is more to hack and hew poor men.” Again, in Froissart's Chronicle, cap. ccclv. fol. ccxxxiiii.: “For they all to hewed the maryners, and dyde putte out their eyen, and so sente them to Gaunte, maymed as they were.” After all (as the late Mr. Guthrie observed) to be hewn might mean, to be drunk. There is yet a low phrase in use on the same occasion, which is not much unlike it; viz. “he is cut.”— “Such a one was cut a little last night.” So, in The Witty Fair One, by Shirley, 1633: “Then, sir, there is the cut of your leg.— “&lblank; that's when a man is drunk, is it not? “Do not stagger in your judgment, for this cut is the grace of your body.” Again, in The London Chaunticleres, 1659: “&lblank; when the cups of canary have made our heads frisk; oh how we shall foot it when we can scarce stand, and caper when we are cut in the leg!” Again, in Decker's Guls Hornbook, 1609: “&lblank; to accept the courtesy of the cellar when it is offered you by the drawers (and you must know that kindness never creepes upon them but when they see you almost cleft to the shoulders),” &c. Steevens. I have here followed the quarto, because it requires no emendation. Here's corporal Nym's sword drawn, the Hostess would say, but she breaks off abruptly. The editor of the folio here, as in many other places, not understanding an abrupt passage, I believe, made out something that he conceived might have been intended. Instead of “O Lord,” to avoid the penalty of the statute, he inserted, “O well a-day, lady,” and added,—“if he be not hewn now.” The latter word is evidently corrupt, and was probably printed, as Mr. Steevens conjectures, for hewing. But, for the reason already given, I have adhered to the quarto. Malone. How would the editor of the folio have escaped profaneness by substituting Lady for Lord? for Lady is an exclamation on our blessed Lady, the Virgin Mary. Steevens. The answer is, that he would not have been subject to the penalty laid in the statute, which prohibits introducing on the stage the name of God, our Saviour, or the Trinity; but says not a word about the Virgin Mary. Malone.

Note return to page 639 8Good lieutenant, &c.] This sentence (except the word Bardolph) is in the folio given to Bardolph, to whom it is evident these words cannot belong, for he is himself, in this play, the lieutenant. Mr. Steevens proposes to solve the difficulty by reading —good ancient, supposing Pistol to be the person addressed. But it is clear, I think, from the quarto, that these words belong to the speech of the Hostess, who, seeing Nym's sword drawn, conjures him and his friend Bardolph to use no violence. In the quarto, the words, “Good corporal Nym, show the valour of a man,” are immediately subjoined to—“now shall we have wilful adultery and murder committed.” Bardolph was probably an interlineation, and erroneously inserted before the words, “good lieutenant,” instead of being placed, as it now is, after them, Hence, he was considered as the speaker, instead of the person addressed. Malone.

Note return to page 640 9Iceland dog!] In the folio the word is spelt Island; in the quarto, Iseland. Malone. I believe we should read, Iceland dog. He seems to allude to an account credited in Elizabeth's time, that in the north there was a nation with human bodies and dogs' heads. Johnson. The quartos confirm Dr. Johnson's conjecture. Steevens. Iceland dog is probably the true reading; yet in Hakluyt's Voyages, we often meet with island. Drayton, in his Moon-calf, mentions water-dogs, and islands. And John Taylor dedicates his Sculler “To the whole kennel of Antichrist's hounds, priests, friars, monks, and jesuites, mastiffs, mongrels, islands, bloodhounds, bob-taile tikes. Farmer. Perhaps this kind of dog was then in vogue for the ladies to carry about with them. So, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; you shall have jewels, “A baboon, a parrot, and an Izeland dog.” Again, in Two Wise Men, and all the rest Fools, 1619: “Enter Levitia, cum Pedisequa, her periwig of dog's hair white, &c. “Insa. A woman? 'tis not a woman. The head is a dog; 'tis a mermaid, half dog, half woman. “Par. No, 'tis but the hair of a dog in fashion, pulled from these Iceland dogs.” Again: “&lblank; for torturing of these Iceland imps, with eradicating their fleeces, thereby to enjoy the roots.” Again, in the Preface to Swetnam's Arraignment of Women, 1617: “&lblank; But if I had brought little dogs from Iceland, or fine glasses from Venice,” &c. It appears from a Proclamation in Rymer's Fœdera, that in the reign of Henry V. the English had a fishery on the coasts of Norway and Iceland; and Holinshed, in his Description of Britain, p. 231, says, “we have sholts or curs dailie brought out of Iseland.” Steevens. Island [that is, Iceland] cur is again used as a term of contempt in Epigrams served out in Fifty-two several Dishes, no date, but apparently written in the time of James the First: “He wears a gown lac'd round, laid down with furre, “Or, miser-like, a pouch, where never man “Could thrust his finger, but this island curre.” See also Britannia Triumphans, a masque, 1636: “&lblank; she who hath been bred to stand “Near chair of queen, with Island shock in hand.” Malone.

Note return to page 641 1&lblank; prick-eared cur &lblank;] A prick-eared cur is likewise in the list of dogs enumerated in The Booke of Huntyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “&lblank; trundle-tails and prick-eared curs.” Steevens. “There were newly come to the citie two young men that were Romans, which ranged up and downe the streetes, with their ears upright.” Painter's Palace of Pleasure. This is said of two sharpers, and seems to explain the term prick-eared. Henderson.

Note return to page 642 2Will you shog off?] This cant word is used in Beaumont and Fletcher's Coxcomb: “Come, pr'ythee, let us shog off.” Again, in Pasquill and Katharine, 1601: “&lblank; thus it shogges,” i. e. thus it goes. Thus, also, in Arthur Hall's Translation of the 4th Iliad, 4to. 1581: “&lblank; these fained wordes agog “So set the goddesses, that they in anger gan to shog.” Steevens.

Note return to page 643 3&lblank; in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy;] Such was the coarse language once in use among vulgar brawlers. So, in The Life and Death of William Summers, &c.: “&lblank; Thou lyest in thy throat and in thy guts.” Steevens. So, in Marston's Fawne, the Page says of his master Herod Frappatore, that he boasted of having lyen with that, and that, and tother lady, &c. when poore I know all this while he only lied in his throat. Boswell.

Note return to page 644 4&lblank; thy nasty mouth!] The quartos read: &lblank; messful mouth. Steevens.

Note return to page 645 5For I can take,] I know not well what he can take. The quarto reads talk. In our author “to take,” is sometimes ‘to blast,’ which sense may serve in this place. Johnson. The old reading, “I can take,” is right, and means, ‘I can take fire.’ Though Pistol's cock was up, yet if he did not take fire, no flashing could ensue. The whole sentence consists in allusions to his name. M. Mason. The folio here, as in two other places, corruptly reads—take. See vol. xi. p. 137, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 646 6I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me.] Barbason is the name of a dæmon mentioned in The Merry Wives of Windsor, vol. viii. p. 91, n. 2. The unmeaning tumour of Pistol's speech very naturally reminds Nym of the sounding nonsense uttered by conjurers. Steevens.

Note return to page 647 7&lblank; doting death is near;] Thus the folio. The quarto has groaning death. Johnson.

Note return to page 648 8Therefore exhale.] Exhale, I believe, here signifies draw, or, in Pistol's language, hale or lug out. The stage-direction in the old quarto, [They drawe.] confirms this explanation. Malone. “Therefore exhale” means only—‘therefore breathe your last, or die,’ a threat common enough among dramatick heroes of a higher rank than Pistol, who only expresses this idea in the fantastick language peculiar to his character. In Chapman's version of the eighteenth Iliad, we are told that “Twelve men of greatest strength in Troy, left with their lives exhal'd “Their chariots,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 649 9O hound of Crete,] He means to insinuate that Nym thirsted for blood. The hounds of Crete described by our author in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, appear to have been bloodhounds. See vol. v. p. 289. Malone. This is an ingenious supposition; and yet I cannot help thinking that Pistol on the present, as on many other occasions, makes use of words to which he had no determinate meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 650 1&lblank; the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,] The same expression occurs in Green's Card of Fancy, 1601: “What courtesy is to be found in such kites of Cressid's kind?” Again, in Gascoigne's Dan Bartholomew of Bathe, 1587: “Nor seldom seene in kites of Cressid's kinde.” Shakspeare might design a ridicule on the last of these passages. Again, in The Forrest of Fancy, 1579: “For such rewardes they dayly fynde “That fyxe their fancy faithfully “On any catte of Cressed's kinde.” Steevens.

Note return to page 651 2&lblank; there's enough.] Thus the quarto. The folio adds—to go to. Steevens.

Note return to page 652 3&lblank; and you, hostess;] The folio has—“and your hostess.” Corrected by Sir T. Hanmer. The emendation is supported by the quarto: “Hostess, you must come straight to my master, and you host Pistol.” Malone.

Note return to page 653 4Base is the slave that pays.] Perhaps this expression was proverbial. I meet with it in The Fair Maid of the West, by Heywood, 1631: “My motto shall be, Base is the man that pays.” Steevens.

Note return to page 654 5&lblank; so shaked &c.] Thus Sidney, in the first book of his Arcadia: “And precious couches full oft are shaked with a feaver.” Steevens.

Note return to page 655 6&lblank; for, lambkins we will live.] That is, we will live as quietly and peaceably together as lambkins. The meaning has, I think, been obscured by a different punctuation: “for, lambkins, we will live.” Malone. Lambkins seems to me a fantastick title by which Pistol addresses his newly-reconciled friends, Nym and Bardolph. The words—we will live, may refer to what seems uppermost in his head, his expected profits from the camp, of which he has just given them reason to expect a share. I have not therefore departed from the old punctuation. Steevens.

Note return to page 656 7&lblank; that was his bedfellow,] So, Holinshed: “The said Lord Scroop was in such favour with the king, that he admitted him sometime to be his bedfellow.” The familiar appellation of bedfellow, which appears strange to us, was common among the ancient nobility. There is a letter from the sixth Earl of Northumberland, (still preserved in the collection of the present Duke,) addressed “To his beloved cousyn Thomas Arundel,” &c. which begins, “Bedfellow, after my most harté recommendacion.” So, in a comedy called A Knack to know a Knave, 1594: “Yet, for thou wast once bedfellow to a king, “And that I lov'd thee as my second self,” &c. Again, in Look About You, 1600: “&lblank; if I not err “Thou art the prince's ward.— “&lblank; I am his ward, chamberlain, and bedfellow.” Again, in Cynthia's Revenge, 1613: “Her I'll bestow, and without prejudice, “On thee alone, my noble bedfellow.” Steevens. This unseemly custom continued common till the middle of the last century, if not later. Cromwell obtained much of his intelligence during the civil wars from the mean men with whom he slept.—Henry Lord Scroop was the third husband of Joan Duchess of York, stepmother of Richard Earl of Cambridge. Malone.

Note return to page 657 8&lblank; cloy'd and grac'd &lblank;] Thus the quarto. The folio reads—“dull'd and cloy'd.” Perhaps dull'd is a mistake for dol'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 658 9&lblank; to death and treachery!] Here the quartos insert a line omitted in all the following editions: “Exe. O! the lord of Masham!” Johnson.

Note return to page 659 1For which we have in head assembled them?] This is not English phraseology. I am persuaded Shakspeare wrote: “For which we have in aid assembled them?” alluding to the tenures of those times. Warburton. It is strange that the commentator should forget a word so eminently observable in this writer, as head for an army formed. Johnson. In head seems synonymous to the modern military term in force. Malone.

Note return to page 660 2That grows not in a fair consent with ours;] So, in Macbeth: “If you shall cleave to my consent,” &c. Consent is union, party, &c. Steevens. “&lblank; in a fair concent &lblank;” In friendly concord; in unison with ours. See vol. xi. p. 92, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 661 3&lblank; hearts create &lblank;] Hearts compounded or made up of duty and zeal. Johnson.

Note return to page 662 4And shall forget the office of our hand,] Perhaps our author, when he wrote this line, had the fifth verse of the 137th Psalm in his thoughts: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.” Steevens.

Note return to page 663 5&lblank; more advice,] On his return to more coolness of mind. Johnson. See vol. iv. p. 56, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 664 6&lblank; proceeding on distemper,] i. e. sudden passions. Warburton. Perturbation of mind. Temper is equality or calmness of mind, from an equipoise or due mixture of passions. Distemper of mind is the predominance of a passion, as distemper of body is the predominance of a humour. Johnson. It has been just said by the king, that “it was excess of wine that set him on,” and distemper may therefore mean intoxication. Distemper'd in liquor is still a common expression. Chapman, in his Epicedium on the Death of Prince Henry, 1612, has personified this species of distemper: “Frantick distemper, and hare-ey'd unrest.” And Brabantio says, that Roderigo is— “Full of supper and distemp'ring draughts.” Again, Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 626: “&lblank; gave him wine and strong drink in such excessive sort, that he was therewith distempered, and reel'd as he went.” Steevens.

Note return to page 665 7&lblank; how shall we stretch our eye,] If we may not wink at small faults, how wide must we open our eyes at great? Johnson.

Note return to page 666 8Who are the late commissioners?] That is, as appears from the sequel, who are the persons lately appointed commissioners? M. Mason.

Note return to page 667 9&lblank; quick &lblank;] That is, living. Johnson.

Note return to page 668 *Folio, you.

Note return to page 669 1To furnish him &lblank;] The latter word, which is wanting in the first folio, was supplied by the editor of the second. Malone.

Note return to page 670 1&lblank; though the truth of it stands off as gross As black from white,] Though the truth be as apparent and visible as black and white contiguous to each other. To stand off is être relevè, to be prominent to the eye, as the strong parts of a picture. Johnson.

Note return to page 671 3&lblank; so grossly &lblank;] Palpably; with a plain and visible connection of cause and effect. Johnson.

Note return to page 672 2&lblank; whoop at them:] That they excited no exclamation of surprise. Such, I think, is meant by the word in As You Like It: “O wonderful, wonderful, &c. and after that out of all whooping.” See vol. vi. p. 429, n. 6. Boswell.

Note return to page 673 4&lblank; he, that temper'd thee,] Though temper'd may stand for formed or moulded, yet I fancy tempted was the author's word, for it answers better to suggest in the opposition. Johnson. Temper'd, I believe, is the true reading, and means—rendered thee pliable to his will. Falstaff says of Shallow, that he has him “tempering between his thumb and finger.” Steevens.

Note return to page 674 5&lblank; vasty Tartar &lblank;] i. e. Tartarus, the fabled place of future punishment. So, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “With aconitum that in Tartar springs.” Steevens. Again, in The Troublesome Raigne of King John, 1591: “And let the black tormentors of black Tartary, “Upbraide them with this damned enterprize.” Malone.

Note return to page 675 6O, how hast thou with jealousy infected The sweetness of affiance!] Shakspeare uses this aggravation of the guilt of treachery with great judgment. One of the worst consequences of breach of trust is the diminution of that confidence which makes the happiness of life, and the dissemination of suspicion, which is the poison of society. Johnson.

Note return to page 676 7Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement;] Complement has, in this instance, the same sense as in Love's Labour's Lost, Act I. Complements, in the age of Shakspeare, meant the same as accomplishments in the present one. Steevens. See vol. iv. p. 288, n. 4. By the epithet modest, the king means that Scroop's accomplishments were not ostentatiously displayed. Malone.

Note return to page 677 8Not working with the eye, without the ear,] The king means to say of Scroop, that he was a cautious man, who knew that fronti nulla fides, that a specious appearance was deceitful, and therefore did not “work with the eye, without the ear,” did not trust the air or look of any man till he had tried him by enquiry and conversation. Johnson.

Note return to page 678 9&lblank; and so finely bolted,] i. e. refined or purged from all faults. Pope. Bolted is the same with sifted, and has consequently the meaning of refined. Johnson.

Note return to page 679 1To mark the full-fraught man, and best indued, &c.] Best indued is a phrase equivalent to—gifted or endowed in the most extraordinary manner. So, Chapman: “His pow'rs with dreadful strength indu'd.” Steevens. The folio, where alone this line is found, reads: “To make the full-fraught man,” &c. The emendation was made by Mr. Theobald. Mr. Pope endeavoured to obtain some sense by pointing thus: “To make the full-fraught man and best, indu'd “With some suspicion.” But “to make a person indued with suspicion,” does not appear, to my ear at least, like the phraseology of Shakspeare's or any other age. Make or mock are so often confounded in these plays, that I once suspected that the latter word might have been used here: but this also would be very harsh. The old copy has thee instead of the. The correction was made by Mr. Pope. Malone. Our author has the same thought again in Cymbeline: “&lblank; So thou, Posthumus, “Wilt lay the leaven to all proper men; “Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjur'd, “From thy great fall.” Theobald.

Note return to page 680 2Henry lord, &c.] Thus the quarto. The folio, erroneously, “Thomas lord,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 681 3For me,—the gold of France did not seduce;] Holinshed, p. 549, observes from Hall, “that diverse write that Richard earle of Cambridge did not conspire with the lord Scroope and Thomas Graie for the murthering of king Henrie to please the French king withall, but onlie to the intent to exalt to the crowne his brother-in-law Edmunde, earl of March, as heire to Lionell duke of Clarence: after the death of which earle of March, for diverse secret impediments not able to have issue, the earle of Cambridge was sure that the crowne should come to him by his wife, and to his children of her begotten. And therefore (as was thought) he rather confessed himselfe for neede of monie to be corrupted by the French king, than he would declare his inward mind, &c. which if it were espied, he saw plainlie that the earle of March should have tasted of the same cuppe that he had drunken, and what should have come to his owne children, he much doubted.” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 682 4Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,] I, which is wanting in the old copy, was added by the editor of the second folio. Cambridge means to say, at which prevention, or, which intended scheme that it was prevented, I shall rejoice. Shakspeare has many such elliptical expressions. The intended scheme that he alludes to, was the taking off Henry, to make room for his brother-in-law. See the preceding note. Malone.

Note return to page 683 5My fault, &c.] One of the conspirators against Queen Elizabeth, I think Parry, concludes his letter to her with these words: “a culpâ, but not a pœnâ, absolve me, most dear lady.” This letter was much read at that time, [1585,] and our author doubtless copied it. This whole scene was much enlarged and improved after the first edition; the particular insertions in it would be tedious to mention, and tedious without much use. Johnson. The words of Parry's letter are, “Discharge me a culpâ, but not a pœnâ, good ladie.” Reed.

Note return to page 684 6&lblank; proclaim'd,] Mr. Ritson recommends the omission of this word, which deforms the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 685 7&lblank; Get you therefore hence,] So, in Holinshed: “&lblank; Get ye hence therefore, ye poor miserable wretches, to the receiving of your just reward: wherein God's majesty give you grace,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 686 8&lblank; the signs of war advance:] So, in Phaer's translation of the first line of the eighth book of the Æneid: “Ut belli signum, &c. “When signe of war from Laurent towres,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 687 9No king of England, if not king of France.] So, in the old play before that of Shakspeare: “If not king of France, then of nothing must I be king” Steevens.

Note return to page 688 1&lblank; let me bring thee to Staines.] i. e. let me attend, or accompany thee. So, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; give me leave, my lord, “That we may bring you something on the way.” Reed.

Note return to page 689 3&lblank; finer end,] For final. Johnson. Every man that dies, makes a final end; but Mrs. Quickly means to describe Falstaff's behaviour at his exit, as uncommonly placid. “He made a fine end,” is at this day a vulgar expression, when any person dies with resolution and devotion. So Ophelia says of her father: “They say, he made a good end.” M. Mason. Again, in Macbeth: “They say, he parted well, and paid his score; “And so God be with him!” Our author has elsewhere used the comparative for the positive. See Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 138, n. 7, Mrs. Quickly, however, needs no justification for not adhering to the rules of grammar. What seems to militate against Dr. Johnson's interpretation is, that the word final, which he supposes to have been meant, is rather too learned for the Hostess. Malone.

Note return to page 690 4&lblank; an it had been any christom child;] The old quarto has it—“crisomb'd child.” “The chrysom was no more than the white cloth put on the new baptised child.” See Johnson's Canons of Eccles. Law, 1720. I have somewhere (but cannot recollect where) met with this further account of it; that the chrysom was allowed to be carried out of the church, to enwrap such children as were in too weak a condition to be borne thither; the chrysom being supposed to make every place holy. This custom would rather strengthen the allusion to the weak condition of Falstaff. The child itself was sometimes called a chrysom, as appears from the following passage in The Fancies Chaste and Noble, 1638: “&lblank; the boy surely I ever said was a very chrisome in the thing you wot.” Again, in The Wits, by Sir W. D'Avenant, 1637: “&lblank; and would'st not join thy halfpenny “To send for milk for the poor chrysome.” Again, in Sir W. D'Avenant's Just Italian, 1630: “&lblank; and they do awe “The chrysome babe.” Again, and more appositely, in his Albovine, 1629: “Sir, I would fain depart in quiet, like other young chrysomes.” Again, in Your Five Gallants, by Middleton: “&lblank; a fine old man to his father, it would kill his heart i' faith: he'd away like a chrysom.” Steevens. In the Liturgy, 2 E VI. Form of Private Baptism, is this direction: “Then the minister shall put the white vesture, commonly called the chrysome, upon the child,” &c. The Glossary of Du Cange, vide Chrismale, explains this ceremony thus: “Quippe olim ut et hodie, baptizatorum, statim atque chrismate in fronte ungebantur, ne chrisma de flueret, capita panno candido obvolvebantur, qui octava demum die ab iis auferebatur.” During the time therefore of their wearing this vesture, the children were, I suppose, called chrisomes. One is registered under this description in the register of Thatcham, Berks, 1605. (Hearne's Appendix to the History of Glastonbury, p. 275.) “A younge crisome being a man child, beinge found drowned,” &c. Tyrwhitt. The chrisom is properly explained as the white garment put upon the child at its baptism. And this the child wore till the time the mother came to be churched, who was then to offer it to the minister. So that, truly speaking, a chrisom child was one that died after it had been baptized, and before its mother was churched. Erroneously, however, it was used for children that died before they are baptized; and by this denomination such children were entered in the bills of mortality down to the year 1726. But have I not seen, in some edition, christom child? If that reading were supported by any copy of authority, I should like it much. It agrees better with my dame's enunciation, who was not very likely to pronounce a hard word with propriety, and who just before had called Abraham—Arthur. Whalley. Mr. Whalley is right in his conjecture. The first folio reads— christom. Blount, in his Glossography, 1678, says, that chrisoms in the bills of mortality are such children as die within the month of birth, because during that time they use to wear the chrisom-cloth. Malone.

Note return to page 691 5&lblank; turning o' the tide:] It has been a very old opinion, which Mead, de imperio solis, quotes, as if he believed it, that nobody dies but in the time of ebb: half the deaths in London confute the notion; but we find that it was common among the women of the poet's time. Johnson.

Note return to page 692 6&lblank; fumble with the sheets,] This passage is burlesqued by Beaumont and Fletcher, in The Captain: “1. How does my master? “2. Faith, he lies drawing on apace. “1. That's an ill sign. “2. And fumbles with the pots too. “1. Then there's no way but one with him.” In the spurious play of King John, 1611, when Faulconbridge sees that prince at the point of death, he says: “O piercing sight! he fumbleth in the mouth, “His speech doth fail &lblank;.” And Pliny, in his Chapter on The Signs of Death, makes mention of “a fumbling and pleiting of the bed-cloths.” See P. Holland's translation, chap. li. So also, in The Ninth Booke of Notable Thinges, by Thomas Lupton, 4to. bl. l.: “If the foreheade of the sicke waxe redde—and his nose waxe sharpe—if he pull strawes, or the cloathes of his bedde—these are most certain tokens of death.” Steevens. There is this expression, and not, I believe, designed as a sneer on Shakspeare, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Spanish Curate, Act IV. Sc. V.: “A glimmering before death, 'tis nothing else, sir; “Do you see how he fumbles with the sheets?” Whalley. The same indication of approaching death is enumerated by Celsus, Lommius, Hippocrates, and Galen. The testimony of the latter is sufficient to show that such a symptom is by no means imaginary: “Manus ante faciem attollere, muscas quasi venari inani operâ, floccos carpere de vestibus, vel pariete. Et in seipso hoc expertus fuit Galenus. Quum enim,” &c. Van Swieten Comm. tom. ii. sect. 708. Collins.

Note return to page 693 7I knew there was but one way;] I believe this phrase is proverbial. I meet with it again in If You Know Not Me, You Know Nobody, 1613: “I heard the doctors whisper it in secret, “There is no way but one.” Again, in The Life and Death of Gamaliel Ratsey, 1605: “But now the courtier is in huckster's handling, there is no way with him but one, for Ratsey seizes both on his money and books.” Again, in P. Holland's translation of the 13th book of Pliny's Natural History: “The leafe also is venomous as the graine, yet otherwhiles there ensueth thereof a fluxe and gurrie of the belly, which saveth their life, or else there were no way but one.” Steevens.

Note return to page 694 8&lblank;and 'a babbled of green fields.] The old copy [i. e. the first folio,] reads—“for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a table of green fields.” Steevens. These words, “and a table of green fields,” are not to be found in the old editions of 1600 and 1608. This nonsense got into all the following editions by a pleasant mistake of the stage editors, who printed from the common piece-meal written parts in the play-house. A table was here directed to be brought in, (it being a scene in a tavern where they drink at parting,) and this direction crept into the text from the margin. Greenfield was the name of the property-man in that time, who furnished implements, &c. for the actors, A table of Greenfield's. Pope. So reasonable an account of this blunder, Mr. Theobald could not acquiesce in. He thought a table of Greenfield's, part of the text, only corrupted, and that it should be read, “he babbled of green fields,” because men do so in the ravings of a calenture. But he did not consider how ill this agrees with the nature of the knight's illness, who was now in no babbling humour; and so far from wanting cooling in green fields, that his feet were very cold, and he just expiring. Warburton. Upon this passage Mr. Theobald has a note that fills a page, which I omit in pity to my readers, since he only endeavours to prove what I think every reader perceives to be true, that at this time no table could be wanted. Mr. Pope, in an appendix to his own edition in 12mo. seems to admit Theobald's emendation, which we would have allowed to be uncommonly happy, had we not been prejudiced against it by Mr. Pope's first note, with which, as it excites merriment, we are loath to part. Johnson. Had the former editors been apprized, that table, in our author, signifies a pocket-book, I believe they would have retained it with the following alteration:—“for his nose was as sharp as a pen upon a table of green fells.”—On table-books, silver or steel pens, very sharp-pointed, were formerly and still are fixed to the backs or covers. Mother Quickly compares Falstaff's nose (which in dying persons grows thin and sharp) to one of those pens, very properly, and she meant probably to have said, on a table-book with a shagreen cover or shagreen table; but, in her usual blundering way, she calls it a table of green fells, or a table covered with green skin; which the blundering transcriber turned into green fields; and our editors have turned the prettiest blunder in Shakspeare, quite out of doors. Smith. Dr. Warburton objects to Theobald's emendation, on the ground of the nature of Falstaff's illness; “who was so far from babbling, or wanting cooling in green fields, that his feet were cold, and he was just expiring.” But his disorder had been a “burning quotidian tertian.” It is, I think, a much stronger objection, that the word Table, with a capital letter, (for so it appears in the old copy,) is very unlikely to have been printed instead of babbled. This reading is, however, preferable to any that has been yet proposed. On this difficult passage I had once a conjecture. It was, that the word table is right, and that the corrupted word is and, which may have been misprinted for in; a mistake that has happened elsewhere in these plays: and thus the passage will run—“and his nose was as sharp as a pen in a table of green fields.” A pen may have been used for a pinfold, and a table for a picture. See vol. x. p. 315, n. 7. The pointed stakes of which pinfolds are sometimes formed, were perhaps in the poet's thoughts. Malone. It has been observed (particularly by the superstition of women) of people near death, when they are delirious by a fever, that they talk of removing; as it has of those in a calenture, that they have their heads run on green fields. Theobald.

Note return to page 695 9&lblank;now I, to comfort him, bid him, 'a should not think of God; &c.] Perhaps Shakspeare was indebted to the following story in Wits, Fits, and Fancies, &c. 1595, for this very characteristick exhortation: “A gentlewoman fearing to be drowned, said, now Jesu receive our soules! Soft, mistress, answered the waterman; I trow, we are not come to that passe yet.” Malone. Our author might as probably have been indebted to a passage in the Continuation of Harding's Chronicle, 1543, relative to the death of Lord Hastings: “This Sir Thomas [Howard] while the Lord Hastings stayed a while commonyng with a priest whom he met in the Tower strete, brake the lordes tale, saying to him merily,—what my lorde, I pray you come on; wherefore talke you so long with the priest? You have no nede of a priest yet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 696 1&lblank; cold as any stone.] Such is the end of Falstaff, from whom Shakspeare had promised us, in his epilogue to King Henry IV. that we should receive more entertainment. It happened to Shakspeare, as to other writers, to have his imagination crouded with a tumultuary confusion of images, which, while they were yet unsorted and unexamined, seemed sufficient to furnish a long train of incidents, and a new variety of merriment; but which, when he was to produce them to view, shrunk suddenly from him, or could not be accommodated to his general design. That he once designed to have brought Falstaff on the scene again, we know from himself; but whether he could contrive no train of adventures suitable to his character, or could match him with no companions likely to quicken his humour, or could open no new vein of pleasantry, and was afraid to continue the same strain lest it should not find the same reception, he has here for ever discarded him, and made haste to despatch him, perhaps for the same reason for which Addison killed Sir Roger, that no other hand might attempt to exhibit him. Let meaner authors learn from this example, that it is dangerous to sell the bear which is yet not hunted; to promise to the publick what they have not written. This disappointment probably inclined Queen Elizabeth to command the poet to produce him once again, and to show him in love or courtship. This was, indeed, a new source of humour, and produced a new play from the former characters. Johnson.

Note return to page 697 2&lblank; incarnate. &lblank; carnation;] Mrs. Quickly blunders, mistaking the word incarnate for a colour. In Questions of Love, 1566, we have, “Yelowe, pale, redde, blue, whyte, graye, and incarnate.” Henderson. Again, in the Inventory of the Furniture to be provided for the Reception of the Royal Family, at the Restoration, 1660, we find—“For repairing, with some additions, of the rich incarnate velvet bed, being for the reception of his majesty, before the other can be made, 10l.” Again,—“For 12 new fustian and Holland quilts for his majesty's incarnate velvet bed and the two dukes beds, 48l.” Parliamentary History, vol. xxii. p. 306. Reed.

Note return to page 698 3&lblank; rheumatick;] This word is elsewhere used by our author for peevish, or splenetick, as scorbutico is in Italian. See p. 75, Mrs. Quickly however probably means lunatick. Malone.

Note return to page 699 4Let senses rule;] I think this is wrong, but how to reform it I do not see. Perhaps we may read: “Let sense us rule.” Pistol is taking leave of his wife, and giving her advice as he kisses her; he sees her rather weeping than attending, and, supposing that in her heart she is still longing to go with him part of the way, he cries, “Let sense us rule,” that is, ‘let us not give way to foolish fondness, but be ruled by our better understanding.’ He then continues his directions for her conduct in his absence. Johnson. “Let senses rule” evidently means, let prudence govern you: conduct yourself sensibly; and it agrees with what precedes and what follows. Mr. M. Mason would read—“Let sentences rule;” by which he means sayings, or proverbs; and accordingly (says he) Pistol gives us a string of them in the remainder of his speech. Steevens.

Note return to page 700 5&lblank; Pitch and pay;] The caution was a very proper one to Mrs. Quickly, who had suffered before, by letting Falstaff run in her debt. The same expression occurs in Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “I will commit you, signior, to my house; but will you pitch and pay, or will your worship run &lblank;?” So again, in Herod and Antipater, 1622: “&lblank; he that will purchase this, “Must pitch and pay.” Again, in The Mastive, an ancient collection of epigrams: “&lblank; Susan, when she first bore sway, “Had for one night a French crown, pitch and pay.” Steevens. Old Tusser, in his description of Norwich, tells us it is “A city trim &lblank; “Where strangers well, may seeme to dwell, “That pitch and paie, or keepe their daye.” John Florio says, “Pitch and paie, and go your waie.” One of the old laws of Blackwell-hall was, that “a penny be paid by the owner of every bale of cloth for pitching.” Farmer.

Note return to page 701 6And hold-fast is the only dog,] Alluding to the proverbial saying—“Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is a better.” Douce.

Note return to page 702 7Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor.] The old quartos read: “Therefore Cophetua be thy counsellor.” Steevens. The reading of the text is that of the folio. Malone.

Note return to page 703 8&lblank; clear thy chrystals.] Dry thine eyes: but I think it may better mean, in this place, wash thy glasses. Johnson. The first explanation is certainly the true one. So, in The Gentleman Usher, by Chapman, 1602: “&lblank; an old wife's eye “Is a blue chrystal full of sorcery.” Again, in A Match at Midnight, 1633: “&lblank; ten thousand Cupids “Methought, sat playing on that pair of chrystals.” Again, in The Double Marriage, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; sleep, you sweet glasses, “An everlasting slumber close those chrystals!” Again, in Coriolanus, Act III. Sc. II.: “The glasses of my sight.” The old quartos, 1600 and 1608, read: “Clear up thy chrystals.” Steevens.

Note return to page 704 9&lblank; keep close,] The quartos 1600 and 1608 read: “&lblank; keep fast thy buggle boe;” Which certainly is not nonsense, as the same expression is used by Shirley, in his Gentleman of Venice: “&lblank; the courtisans of Venice, “Shall keep their bugle bowes for thee, dear uncle.” Perhaps, indeed, it is a Scotch term; for in Ane very excellent and delectabill Treatise intitulit Philotus, &c. printed at Edinburgh, 1603, I find it again: “What reck to tak the bogill-bo, “My bonie burd, for anes.” The reader may suppose buggle-boe to be just what he pleases. Steevens. Whatever covert sense Pistol may have annexed to this word, it appears from Cole's Latin Dictionary, 1678, that “bogle-bo” (now corruptly sounded bugabow) signified ‘an ugly wide-mouthed picture, carried about with May-games.’ Cole renders it by the Latin words, manducus terriculamentum. The intepretation of the former word has been just given. The latter he renders thus: “A terrible spectacle; a fearful thing; a scare-crow.” T. C. An anonymous writer supposes that by the words—“keep close,” Pistol means, ‘keep within doors.’ That this was not the meaning, is proved decisively by the words of the quarto. Malone. Perhaps, the words—“keep close,” were rendered perfectly intelligible by the action that accompanied them on the stage. Steevens. The inquisitive reader will best collect the sense in which buggle boe is here used, from a perusal of La Fontaine's tale of Le Diable de Pape-Figuiere. Douce.

Note return to page 705 1And more than carefully it us concerns,] “More than carefully” is ‘with more than common care;’ a phrase of the same kind with “better than well.” Johnson.

Note return to page 706 2&lblank; so dull a kingdom,] i. e. render it callous, insensible. So, in Hamlet: “But do not dull thy palm,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 707 3Were busied &lblank;] The quarto, 1600, reads—were troubled. Steevens.

Note return to page 708 4&lblank; so idly king'd,] Shakspeare is not singular in his use of this verb—to king. I find it in Warner's Albion's England, b. viii. c. xlii.: “&lblank; and king'd his sister's son.” Steevens.

Note return to page 709 5You are too much mistaken in this king:] This part is much enlarged since the first writing. Pope.

Note return to page 710 6How modest in exception,] How diffident and decent in making objections. Johnson.

Note return to page 711 7And you shall find, his vanities fore-spent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly;] Shakspeare not having given us, in the First or Second Part of Henry IV. or in any other place but this, the remotest hint of the circumstance here alluded to, the comparison must needs be a little obscure to those who do not know or reflect that some historians have told us, that Henry IV. had entertained a deep jealousy of his son's aspiring superior genius. Therefore, to prevent all umbrage, the prince withdrew from public affairs, and amused himself in consorting with a dissolute crew of robbers. It seems to me, that Shakspeare was ignorant of this circumstance when he wrote the two parts of Henry IV. for it might have been so managed as to have given new beauties to the character of Hal, and great improvements to the plot. And with regard to these matters, Shakspeare generally tells us all he knew, and as soon as he knew it. Warburton. Dr. Warburton, as usual, appears to me to refine too much. I believe, Shakspeare meant no more than that Henry, in his external appearance, was like the elder Brutus, wild and giddy, while in fact his understanding was good. Our author's meaning is sufficiently explained by the following lines in The Rape of Lucrece, 1594: “Brutus, who pluck'd the knife from Lucrece' side, “Seeing such emulation in their woe, “Began to clothe his wit in state and pride, “Burying in Lucrece' wound his folly's show. “He with the Romans was esteemed so, “As silly-jeering ideots are with kings, “For sportive words, and uttering foolish things.   “But now he throws that shallow habit by, “Wherein deep policy did him disguise; “And arm'd his long-hid wits advisedly, “To check the tears in Collatinus' eyes.” Thomas Otterbourne, and the translator of Titus Livius, indeed, say, that Henry the Fourth, in his latter days, was jealous of his son, and apprehended that he would attempt to depose him; to remove which suspicion, the prince is said (from the relation of an earl of Ormond, who was an eye witness of the fact,) to have gone with a great party of his friends to his father, in the twelfth year of his reign, and to have presented him with a dagger, which he desired the king to plunge into his breast, if he still entertained any doubts of his loyalty: but, I believe, it is no where said, that he threw himself into the company of dissolute persons to avoid giving umbrage to his father, or betook himself to irregular courses with a political view of quieting his suspicions. Malone. The best comment on this passage will be found in P. Henry's soliloquy in the first part of Henry the IV. vol. xvi. p. 206. Boswell.

Note return to page 712 8Which, of a weak and niggardly projection,] This passage, as it stands, is so perplexed, that I formerly suspected it to be corrupt. If which be referred to proportions of defence, (and I do not see to what else it can be referred,) the construction will be— “which proportions of defence, of a weak and niggardly projection, spoils his coat, like a miser,” &c. If our author had written— “While oft a weak and niggardly projection “Doth,” &c. The reasoning would then be clear.—In cases of defence, it is best to imagine the enemy more powerful than he seems to be; by this means, we make more full and ample preparations to defend ourselves: whereas, on the contrary, a poor and mean idea of the enemy's strength induces us to make but a scanty provision of forces against him; wherein we act as a miser does, who spoils his coat by scanting of cloth. Projection, I believe, is here used for fore-cast or preconception. It may, however, mean preparation. Perhaps, in Shakspeare's licentious diction, the meaning may be —“Which proportions of defence, when weakly and niggardly projected, resemble a miser who spoils his coat,” &c. The false concord is no objection to such a construction; for the same inaccuracy is found in almost every page of the old copy. Malone.

Note return to page 713 9&lblank; strain,] Lineage. So, in King Lear: “Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 714 1That haunted us &lblank;] To haunt is a word of the utmost horror, which shows that they dreaded the English as goblins and spirits. Johnson.

Note return to page 715 2When Cressy battle fatally was struck,] So, in Robert of Gloucester: “&lblank; and that fole of Somersete &lblank; “His come, and smyte a batayle.” Again, in the title to one of Sir David Lyndsay's poems: “How king Ninus began the first warres and strake the first battell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 716 3Whiles that his mountain sire,—on mountain standing,] Mr. Theobald would read—mounting; i. e. high-minded, aspiring. Thus, in Love's Labour's Lost, Act IV.: “Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind.” The emendation may be right, and yet I believe the poet meant to give an idea of more than human proportion in the figure of the king: Quantus Athos, aut quantus Eryx, &c. Virg. “Like Teneriffe or Atlas unremov'd.” Milton. Drayton, in the 18th Song of his Polyolbion, has a similar thought: “Then he above them all, himself that sought to raise, “Upon some mountain top, like a pyramides.” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. i. c. xi.: “Where stretch'd he lay upon the sunny side “Of a great hill, himself like a great hill.” &lblank; agmen agens, magnique ipse agminis instar. Mr. Tollet thinks this passage may be explained by another in Act I. Sc. I.: “&lblank; his most mighty father on a hill.” Steevens. If the text is not corrupt, Mr. Steevens's explication is the true one. See the extract from Holinshed, p. 272, n. 2. The repetition of the word mountain is much in our author's manner, and therefore I believe the old copy is right. Malone.

Note return to page 717 4Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun.] Dr. Warburton calls this “the nonsensical line of some player.” The idea, however, might have been taken from Chaucer's Legende of good Women: “Her gilt heere was ycrownid with a son.” See also Additions to the History of the English Stage, vol. iii.: “Item—I crown with a sone.” Shakspeare's meaning, (divested of its poetical finery,) I suppose, is, that the king stood upon an eminence, with the sun shining over his head. Steevens.

Note return to page 718 5&lblank; fate of him.] His fate is what is allotted him by destiny, or what he is fated to perform. Johnson. So Virgil, speaking of the future deeds of the descendants of Æneas: Attollens humeris famamque et fata nepotum. Steevens.

Note return to page 719 6&lblank; spend their mouths,] That is, bark; the sportsman's term. Johnson.

Note return to page 720 *Folio, of England.

Note return to page 721 7&lblank; memorable line,] This genealogy; this deduction of his lineage. Johnson.

Note return to page 722 8And therefore, &c.] The word—And is wanting in the old copies. It was supplied by Mr. Rowe, for the sake of measure, Steevens.

Note return to page 723 9Turns he &lblank;] Thus the quarto, 1600. The folio reads— turning the widows' tears. Malone.

Note return to page 724 1The dead men's blood,] The disposition of the images were more regular, if we were to read thus: “&lblank; upon your head “Turning the dead men's blood, the widows' tears, “The orphans' cries, the pining maidens' groans.” Johnson. The quartos 1600 and 1608 exhibit the passage thus: “And on your heads turns he the widows' tears, “The orphans' cries, the dead men's bones, “The pining maidens' groans, “For husbands, fathers, and distressed lovers, “Which,” &c. These quartos agree in all but the merest trifles: and therefore, for the future, I shall content myself in general to quote the former of them, which is the most correct of the two. Steevens. Pining is the reading of the quarto 1600. The folio has—privy. Blood is the reading of the folio. The quarto, instead of it, has bones. Malone.

Note return to page 725 *Quarto, loud.

Note return to page 726 2Shall chide your trespass,] To chide is to resound, to echo. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; never did I hear “Such gallant chiding.” Again, in King Henry VIII.: “As doth a rock against the chiding flood.” Steevens. This interpretation is confirmed by a passage in The Tempest: “&lblank; the thunder, “That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd “The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.” Malone.

Note return to page 727 3&lblank; of his ordnance.] Ordnance is here used as a trisyllable; being, in our author's time, improperly written ordinance. Malone.

Note return to page 728 4&lblank; he masters now;] Thus the folio. So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “As if he master'd there a double spirit “Of teaching and of learning,” &c. The quarto 1600 reads—musters. Steevens.

Note return to page 729 5&lblank; you shall read &lblank;] So the folio. The quarto 1600 has— “you shall find.” Malone.

Note return to page 730 6&lblank; well-appointed &lblank;] i. e. well furnished with all the necessaries of war. So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “And very well appointed, as I thought, “March'd towards Saint Alban's &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 731 7&lblank; at Hampton pier Embark his royalty;] All the editions downwards, implicitly, after the first folio, read—“Dover pier.” But could the poet possibly be so discordant from himself (and the Chronicles, which he copied,) to make the king here embark at Dover; when he has before told us so precisely, and that so often over, that he embarked at Southampton? I dare acquit the poet from so flagrant a variation. The indolence of a transcriber, or a compositor at press, must give rise to such an error. They, seeing pier at the end of the verse, unluckily thought of Dover pier, as the best known to them; and so unawares corrupted the text. Theobald. Among the records of the town of Southampton, they have a minute and authentick account (drawn up at that time) of the encampment of Henry the Fifth near the town, before this embarkment for France. It is remarkable, that the place where the army was encamped, then a low level plain or a down, is now entirely covered with sea, and called Westport. T. Warton.

Note return to page 732 8&lblank; Phœbus fanning.] Old copy—fayning. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone. So, in Macbeth: “Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, “And fan our people cold.” Steevens.

Note return to page 733 9Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give To sounds confus'd:] So, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “&lblank; the boatswain whistles, and “The master calls, and trebles the confusion.” Malone.

Note return to page 734 1&lblank; rivage,] The bank or shore. Johnson. Rivage, French. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. iv. c. i.: “Pactolus with his waters shere “Throws forth upon the rivage round about him nere.” Again, in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. viii. fol. 186: “Upon the stronde at rivage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 735 2&lblank; to sternage of this navy;] The stern being the hinder part of the ship, the meaning is, let your minds follow close after the navy. Stern, however, appears to have been anciently synonymous to rudder. So, in the King Leir, 1605: “Left as it were a ship without a sterne.” Again, in Chapman's version of the second Iliad: “Twelve ships he brought, which, in their course, vermilion sternes did move.” I suspect the author wrote, steerage. So, in his Pericles: “&lblank; Think his pilot, thought; “So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, “To fetch his daughter home.” Malone.

Note return to page 736 3&lblank; linstock &lblank;] The staff to which the match is fixed when ordnance is fired. Johnson. So, in Middleton's comedy of Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “&lblank; O Cupid, grant that my blushing prove not a linstocke, and give fire too suddenly,” &c. Again, in The Jew of Malta, by Marlowe, 1633: “Till you shall hear a culverin discharg'd “By him that bears the linstock kindled thus.” I learn from Smith's Sea Grammar, 1627, that the “Lintstock is a handsome carved stick, more than halfe yard long, with a cocke at the one end, to hold fast his match,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 737 4&lblank; Chambers &lblank;] Small pieces of ordnance. See p. 75, n. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 738 5And eke &lblank;] This word is in the first folio written—eech; as it was, sometimes at least, pronounced. So, in Pericles, 1609: “And time that is so briefly spent, “With your fine fancies quaintly each; “What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech.” Malone. See also the concluding speech of The First Part of the Spanish Tragedy, 1605: “My armes are of the shortest, “Let your loves peace them out.” Steevens.

Note return to page 739 6Or close the wall, &c.] Here is apparently a chasm. One line at least is lost, which contained the other part of a disjunctive proposition. The King's speech is, ‘dear friends, either win the town, or close up the wall with dead.’ The old quarto gives no help. Johnson. I do not perceive the chasm which Dr. Johnson complains of. What the King means to say is,—‘Re-enter the breach you have made, or fill it up with your own dead bodies;’ i. e. Pursue your advantage, or give it up with your lives. Mount the breach in the wall, or repair it by leaving your own carcases in lieu of the stones you have displaced: in short—Do one thing or the other. So, in Church-yard's Siege of Edenbrough Castle: “&lblank; we will possesse the place, “Or leaue our bones and bowels in the breatch.” This speech of King Henry was added after the quartos 1600 and 1608. Steevens.

Note return to page 740 7&lblank; when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger;] Sir Thomas Hanmer has observed on the following passage in Troilus and Cressida, that in storms and high winds the tiger roars and rages most furiously: “&lblank; even so “Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide “In storms of fortune: for, in her ray and brightness, “The herd hath more annoyance by the brize “Than by the tiger: but when splitting winds “Make flexible the knees of knotted oaks, “And flies flee under shade; why then the thing of courage, “As rouz'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 741 8&lblank; summon up the blood,] Old copy—commune, &c. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 742 9&lblank; portage of the head,] Portage, open space, from port, a gate. Let the eye appear in the head as cannon through the battlements, or embrasures, of a fortification. Johnson. So we now say—“the port-holes of a ship.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 743 1&lblank; jutty &lblank;] The force of the verb to jutty, when applied to a rock projecting into the sea, is not felt by those who are unaware that this word anciently signified a mole raised to withstand the encroachment of the tide. In an act, 1 Edw. VI. c. 14, provision is made for “the maintenaunce of piers, jutties, walles, and bankes, against the rages of the sea.” Holt White. Jutty-heads, in sea-language, are platforms standing on piles, near the docks, and projecting without the wharfs, for the more convenient docking and undocking ships. See Chamber's Dictionary. Steevens.

Note return to page 744 2&lblank; his confounded base,] His worn or wasted base. Johnson. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, “As stooping to relieve him.” Steevens. One of the senses of to confound, in our author's time, was, to destroy. See Minsheu's Dictionary, in v. Malone.

Note return to page 745 3&lblank; let the brow o'erwhelm it, As fearfully, as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.] So, in Daniel's Civil Warres, 1595: “A place there is, where proudly rais'd there stands “A huge aspiring rock, neighbouring the skies, “Whose surly brow imperiously commands “The sea his bounds, that at his proud foot lies; “And spurns the waves, that in rebellious bands “Assault his empire, and against him rise.” Malone.

Note return to page 746 4Now set the teeth,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; now I'll set my teeth, “And send to darkness all that stop me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 747 5&lblank; bend up every spirit &lblank;] A metaphor from the bow. Johnson. So again, in Hamlet: “they fool me to the top of my bent.” Again, in Macbeth: “I am settled, and bend up “Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.” Malone.

Note return to page 748 6&lblank; you noblest English,] Thus the second folio. The first has—noblish. Mr. Malone reads—noble; and observes that this speech is not in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 749 7Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!] Thus the folio 1623, and rightly. So, Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. iii.: “Whom strange adventure did from Britain fet.” Again, in the Prologue to Ben Jonson's Silent Woman: “Though there be none far-fet, there will dear bought.” Again, in Lord Surrey's translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “And with that winde had fet the land of Greece.” The sacred writings afford many instances to the same purpose. Mr. Pope first made the change, [to fetch'd], which I, among others, had inadvertently followed. Steevens.

Note return to page 750 8&lblank; argument.] Is matter, or subject. Johnson.

Note return to page 751 9&lblank; like greyhounds in the slips,] Slips are a contrivance of leather, to start two dogs at the same time. C.

Note return to page 752 1Straining upon the start.] The old copy reads—Straying. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 753 2&lblank; corporal.] We should read—lieutenant. It is Bardolph to whom he speaks. Steevens. Though Bardolph is only a corporal in King Henry IV. as our author has in this play, from inadvertence or design, made him a lieutenant, I think, with Mr. Steevens, that we should read lieutenant. See a former note, p. 294, n. 8. The truth is, I believe, that the variations in his title proceeded merely from Shakspeare's inattention. Malone.

Note return to page 754 3&lblank; a case of lives:] A set of lives, of which, when one is worn out, another may serve. Johnson. Perhaps only two; as a case of Pistols; and, in Ben Jonson, a case of masques. Whalley. I believe Mr. Whalley's explanation is the true one. A case of pistols, which was the current phrase for a pair or brace of pistols, in our author's time, is at this day the term always used in Ireland, where much of the language of the age of Elizabeth is yet retained. See also the Life of Jack Wilton, by Thomas Nashe, 4to. 1594: “Memorandum, everie one of you after the perusal of this pamphlet is to provide him a case of ponyards, that if you come in companie with any man which shall dispraise it,—you may straight give him the stockado.” Malone.

Note return to page 755 4If wishes, &c.] This passage I have replaced from the first folio, which is the only authentick copy of this play. These lines, which perhaps are part of a song, Mr. Pope did not like, and therefore changed them in conformity to the imperfect play in quarto, and was followed by the succeeding editors. For prevail I should read avail. Johnson.

Note return to page 756 5As duly, &c.] This speech I have restored from the folio. Steevens. This should be printed as verse, being perhaps the remainder of Pistol's song. Douce.

Note return to page 757 6&lblank; Fluellen.] This is only the Welsh pronunciation of Lluellyn. Thus also Flloyd instead of Lloyd. Steevens.

Note return to page 758 7&lblank; Up to the preaches, &c.] Thus the quarto, with only the difference of breaches instead of preaches. Modern editors have been very liberal of their Welsh dialect. The folio reads,— “Up to the breach, you dogges, avaunt, you cullions.” Steevens.

Note return to page 759 8Be merciful, great duke,] That is, great commander. So, in Harrington's Orlando Furioso, 1591: “And as herself the dame of Carthage kill'd, “When as the Trojan duke did her forsake &lblank;.” The Trojan duke is only a translation of dux Trojanus. So also in many of our old poems, Duke Theseus, Duke Hannibal, &c. See vol. v. p. 176, n. 6. In Pistol's mouth the word has here peculiar propriety. The author of Remarks, &c. on the last edition of Shakspeare, [Mr. Ritson,] says, that “in the folio it is the Duke of Exeter, and not Fluellen, who enters [here], and to whom Pistol addresses himself.” It is sufficient to say, that in the only folio of any authority, that of 1623, this is not the case. When the King retired before the entry of Bardolph, &c. the Duke of Exeter certainly accompanied him, with Bedford, Gloster, &c. though in the folio the word Exeunt is accidentally omitted. In the quarto, before the entry of Bardolph, Fluellen, &c. we find Exit Omnes. In the quarto, Nym, on Fluellen's treating him so roughly, says, “Abate thy rage, sweet knight.” Had these words been preserved, I suppose this Remarker would have contended, that Nym's address was not to the honest Welshman, but to old Sir Thomas Erpingham. I should not have taken the trouble to refute this unfounded remark, had I not feared that my readers, in consequence of the above-mentioned misrepresentation of the state of the old copy, might be led to suppose that some arbitrary alteration had here been made in the text. Malone. Sylvester, in his Dubartas, terms Moses “a great duke.” Boswell.

Note return to page 760 9&lblank; to men of mould!] To men of earth, to poor mortal men. Johnson. So, in the Countess of Pembroke's Yvychurch: “At length man was made of mould, by crafty Prometheus.” Steevens.

Note return to page 761 1&lblank; wins bad humours.] In a former scene Nym says, “the king hath run bad humours on the knight.” We should therefore perhaps read runs here also. But there is little certainty in any conjecture concerning the dialect of Nym or Pistol. Malone.

Note return to page 762 2&lblank; but all they three,] We should read, I think, “all the three.” Malone. “They three,” is a vulgarism, to this day in constant use. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 3&lblank; best men;] That is, bravest; so in the next lines, good deeds are brave actions. Johnson.

Note return to page 764 4They will steal any thing, and call it,—purchase.] This was the cant term used for money gained by cheating, as we learn from Greene's Art of Coneycatching. Boswell.

Note return to page 765 5&lblank; the men would carry coals.] It appears that, in Shakspeare's age, to carry coals, was, I know not why, to endure affronts. So, in Romeo and Juliet, one serving-man asks another whether he will carry coals. Johnson. See note on Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. I. Cant phrases are the ephemerons of literature. In the quartos, 1600 and 1608, the passage stands thus: “I knew by that they meant to carry coales.” Steevens.

Note return to page 766 5&lblank; is dight himself four yards under the countermines:] Fluellen means, that the enemy had digged himself countermines four yards under the mines. Johnson.

Note return to page 767 6&lblank; will plow up all,] That is, he will blow up all. Johnson.

Note return to page 768 7&lblank; I sall quit you &lblank;] That is, I shall, with your permission, requite you, that is, answer you, or interpose with my arguments, as I shall find opportunity. Johnson.

Note return to page 769 8&lblank; there is an end.] It were to be wished, that the poor merriment of this dialogue had not been purchased with so much profaneness. Johnson.

Note return to page 770 9Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,] The three words in small capitals, are, I suppose, an interpolation. They have little value, and spoil the metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 771 1The gates of mercy shall be all shut up;] Mr. Gray has borrowed this thought in his inimitable Elegy: “And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.” Steevens. We again meet with this significant expression in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Open thy gate of mercy, gracious Lord!” Sir Francis Bacon uses the same expression in a letter to King James, written a few days after the death of Shakspeare: “And therefore, in conclusion, we wished him [the earl of Somerset] not to shut the gate of your majesties mercy against himself, by being obdurate any longer.” Malone.

Note return to page 772 2&lblank; fell feats Enlink'd to waste and desolation?] All the savage practices naturally concomitant to the sack of cities. Johnson.

Note return to page 773 3Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds &lblank;] This is a very harsh metaphor. To overblow is to drive away, or to keep off. Johnson.

Note return to page 774 4Of deadly murder,] The folio has headly. The passage is not in the quarto. Though deadly is an epithet of but little force, applied to murder, I yet suspect it to have been the poet's word. So, in Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 170, we have mortal murders; and in Richard III. Act IV. Sc. I. “dead-killing news.” Malone. Perhaps we should read, [with the second folio], “heady murder.” So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “And all the currents of a heady fight.” Steevens.

Note return to page 775 5Defile the locks, &c.] The folio reads: “Desire the locks,” &c. Steevens. The emendation is Mr. Pope's. Malone.

Note return to page 776 6&lblank; whom of succour we entreated,] Many instances of similar phraseology are already given in a note on the following passage in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “I shall desire you of more acquaintance.” See Act III. Sc. I. Steevens.

Note return to page 777 7&lblank; are we addrest.] i. e. prepared. So, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “&lblank; clamours from afar, “Tell us these champions are addrest for war.” Steevens.

Note return to page 778 8Scene IV.] I have left this ridiculous scene as I found it; and am sorry to have no colour left from any of the editions, to imagine it interpolated. Warburton. Sir T. Hanmer has rejected it. The scene is indeed mean enough, when it is read; but the grimaces of two French women, and the odd accent with which they uttered the English, made it divert upon the stage. It may be observed, that there is in it not only the French language, but the French spirit. Alice compliments the princess upon her knowledge of four words, and tells her that she pronounces like the English themselves. The princess suspects no deficiency in her instructress, nor the instructress in, herself. Throughout the whole scene there may be found French servility, and French vanity. I cannot forbear to transcribe the first sentence of this dialogue from the edition of 1608, that the reader, who has not looked into the old copies, may judge of the strange negligence with which they are printed. “Kate. Alice venecia, vous aves cates en, vou parte fort bon Angloys englatara, coman sae palla vou la main en francoy.” Johnson. We may observe, in general, that the early editions have not half the quantity; and every sentence, or rather every word, most ridiculously blundered. These, for several reasons, could not possibly be published by the author; and it is extremely probable that the French ribaldry was at first inserted by a different hand, as the many editions most certainly were after he had left the stage. Indeed, every friend to his memory will not easily believe, that he was acquainted with the scene between Katharine and the old Gentlewoman: or surely he would not have admitted such obscenity and nonsense. Farmer. It is very certain that authors, in the time of Shakspeare, did not correct the press for themselves. I hardly ever saw, in one of the old plays, a sentence of either Latin, Italian, or French, without the most ridiculous blunders. In The History of Clyomon, Knight of the Golden Shield, 1599, a tragedy which I have often quoted, a warrior asks a lady, disguised like a page, what her name is. She answers, “Cur Daceer,” i. e. Cœur d'Acier, Heart of Steel. Steevens.

Note return to page 779 9Kath. Alice, tu as esté &lblank;] I have regulated several speeches in this French scene; some whereof are given to Alice, and yet evidently belong to Katharine: and so vice versa. It is not material to distinguish the particular transpositions I have made. Mr. Gildon has left no bad remark, I think, with regard to our poet's conduct in the character of this princess: “For why he should not allow her,” says he, “to speak in English as well as all the other French, I cannot imagine; since it adds no beauty, but gives a patched and pye-bald dialogue of no beauty or force.” Theobald. In the collection of Chester Whitsun Mysteries, among the Harleian MSS. No. 1013, I find French speeches introduced. In the Vintner's Play, p. 65, the three kings, who come to worship our infant Saviour, address themselves to Herod in that language, and Herod very politely answers them in the same. At first, I supposed the author to have appropriated a foreign tongue to them, because they were strangers; but in the Skinner's Play, p. 144, I found Pilate talking French, when no such reason could be offered to justify a change of language. These mysteries are said to have been written in 1328. It is hardly necessary to mention that in this MS. the French is as much corrupted as in the passage quoted by Dr. Johnson from the quarto edition of King Kenry V. Steevens.

Note return to page 780 1&lblank; may foy,] Thus the old copies; but I suspect we should read—ma foy. Steevens.

Note return to page 781 2&lblank; our father's luxury,] In this place, as in others, luxury means last. Johnson. So, in King Lear: “To't, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 782 3&lblank; savage &lblank;] Is here used in the French original sense, for silvan, uncultivated, the same with wild. Johnson.

Note return to page 783 4In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.] Shotten signifies any thing projected: so nook-shotten isle, is an isle that shoots out into capes, promontories, and necks of land, the very figure of Great Britain. Warburton. The same compound epithet is employed by Randle Holme, in his Academy of Armory and Blazon, b. iii. c. ix. p. 385: “Querke is a nook-shotten pane” [of glass]. Steevens.

Note return to page 784 *Quarto, disdain.

Note return to page 785 5&lblank; Can sodden water, A drench for sur-rein'd jades,] The exact meaning of surreyn'd I do not know. It is common to give horses over-ridden or feverish, ground malt and hot water mixed, which is called a mash. To this he alludes. Steevens. The word sur-rein'd occurs more than once in the old plays. So, in Jack Drum's Entertainment, 1601: “Writes he not a good cordial sappy style?— “A sur-rein'd jaded wit, but he rubs on.” It should be observed that the quartos 1600 and 1608 read: “A drench for swolne jades.” Steevens. I suppose, sur-rein'd means over-ridden; horses on whom the rein has remained too long. Malone. I believe that sur-rein'd means over worked or ridden; but should suppose the word rather derived from the reins of the back, than from those of the bridle. M. Mason.

Note return to page 786 6Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people &lblank;] I cannot help supposing, for the sake of metre, that Shakspeare wrote—house-thatch. House-top is an expression which the reader will find in St. Matthew, xxiv. 17. Steevens. “Upon our houses' thatch.” Thus the folio. The quarto has— our houses' tops. The reading of the folio is supported by a passage in The Tempest: “&lblank; like winter drops, “From eaves of reeds.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “When icicles hang by the wall,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 787 7&lblank; drops of gallant youth &lblank;] This is the reading of the folio. The quarto reads—drops of youthful blood. Malone.

Note return to page 788 8&lblank; we may call them,] May, which is wanting in the old copy, was added by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 789 9&lblank; lavoltas high,] Sir T. Hanmer observes, that in this dance there was much turning and much capering. Shakspeare mentions it more than once, but never so particularly as the author of Muleasses the Turk, a tragedy, 1610: “Be pleas'd, ye powers of night, and 'bout me skip “Your antick measures; like to coal-black Moors “Dancing their high lavoltoes to the sun, “Circle me round: and in the midst I'll stand, “And crack my sides with laughter at your sports.” Again, in Chapman's May-Day, 1611: “&lblank; let the Bourdeaux grape “Skip like la volta's in their swelling veins.” Again: “Where love doth dance la volta.” Steevens. Lavoltas are thus described by Sir John Davies, in his poem called Orchestra: “Yet is there one the most delightful kind,   “A lofty jumping, or a leaping round, “Where arm in arm, two dancers are entwin'd,   “And whirl themselves in strict embracements bound,   “And still their feet an anapest do sound:     “An anapest is all their musick's song,     “Whose first two feet is short, and third is long. “As the victorious twins of Leda and Jove   “That taught the Spartans dancing on the sands “Of swift Eurotas, dance in heaven above;   “Knit and united with eternal hands,   “Among the stars their double image stands,     “Where both are carried with an equal pace,     “Together jumping in their turning race.” Reed. A very amusing account of this dance is to be found in Mr. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 489. Boswell.

Note return to page 790 1Charles De-la-bret, &c.] Milton somewhere bids the English take notice how their names are misspelt by foreigners, and seems to think that we may lawfully treat foreign names, in return, with the same neglect. This privilege seems to be exercised in this catalogue of French names, which, since the sense of the author is not affected, I have left as I found it. Johnson. I have changed the spelling; for I know not why we should leave blunders or antiquated orthography in the proper names, when we have been so careful to remove them both from all other parts of the text. Instead of Charles De-la-bret, we should read Charles D'Albret, but the metre will not allow of it. Steevens. Shakspeare followed Holinshed's Chronicle, in which the Constable is called Delabreth, as he here is in the folio. Malone.

Note return to page 791 2&lblank; and knights,] The old copy reads—kings. The emendation is Mr. Theobald's. It is confirmed by a line in the last scene of the fourth Act: “&lblank; princes, barons, lords, knights.” Malone.

Note return to page 792 3With pennons &lblank;] Pennons armorial were small flags, on which the arms, device, and motto of a knight were painted. Pennon is the same as pendant. So, in The Stately Moral of the Three Lords of London, 1590: “In glittering gold and particolour'd plumes, “With curious pendants on their launces fix'd,” &c. Again, in Chaucer's Knyghtes Tale, v. 980, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edition: “And by his banner borne is his penon “Of gold ful riche, in which there was ybete “The Minotaure which that he slew in Crete.” In MS. Harl. No. 2413, is the following note: “Penon. “A penon must bee tow yardes and a halfe longe, made round att the end, and conteyneth the armes of the owner, and servith for the conduct of fiftie men. “Everye knight may have his pennon if hee bee cheefe captaine, and in it sett his armes: and if hee bee made bannerett, the kinge or the lieftenant shall make a slitt in the end of the pennon, and the heralds shall raise it out. “Pencelles. “Pencells or flagges for horsemen must bee a yarde and a halfe longe, with the crosses of St. George,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 793 4&lblank; melted snow &lblank;] The poet has here defeated himself by passing too soon from one image to another. To bid the French rush upon the English as the torrents formed from melted snow stream from the Alps, was at once vehement and proper, but its force is destroyed by the grossness of the thought in the next line. Johnson.

Note return to page 794 5The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon:] Jupiter hybernas canâ nive conspuit Alpes. Fur. Bibac. ap Hor. Steevens.

Note return to page 795 6He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear, And, for achievement, offer us his ransom.] I can make no sense of these words as they stand, though it is to be supposed that the editors understood them, since they have passed them by unnoticed. I have little doubt but the words his and for, in the last line, have been misplaced, and that the line should run thus: “And his achievement offer us for ransom.” And accordingly the King of France sends to Henry to know what ransom he will give. By “his achievement” is meant ‘the town of Harfleur, which Henry had taken.’ In the former part of this Act he says: “I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur, “Till in her ashes she be buried.” M. Mason. The first of the two lines which appear so obscure to Mr. M. Mason, is to me at least sufficiently intelligible; yet as the idea designed to be communicated by it, is not only contemptible but dirty, I still choose to avoid explanation. Steevens. “And for achievement offer us his ransom.” That is, instead of achieving a victory over us, make a proposal to pay us a certain sum, as a ransom. So, in Henry VI. Part III.: “For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say.” Malone.

Note return to page 796 7&lblank; in Roüen.] Here, and a little higher, we have, in the old copy—Roan, which was, in Shakspeare's time, the mode of spelling Roüen, in Normandy. He probably pronounced the word as a monosyllable, Roan; as indeed most Englishmen do at this day. Malone.

Note return to page 797 8&lblank; but keeps the pridge most valiantly.] This is not an imaginary circumstance, but founded on an historical fact. After Henry had passed the Some, the French endeavoured to intercept him in his passage to Calais; and for that purpose attempted to break down the only bridge that there was over the small river of Ternois, at Blangi, over which it was necessary for Henry to pass. But Henry, having notice of their design, sent a part of his troops before him, who, attacking and putting the French to flight, preserved the bridge, till the whole English army arrived, and passed over it. Malone.

Note return to page 798 9There is an ensign &lblank;] Thus the quarto. The folio reads —there is an ancient lieutenant. Pistol was not a lieutenant. Malone.

Note return to page 799 1Of buxom valour,] i. e. valour under good command, obedient to its superiors. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen: “Love tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts “Of them that to him are buxom and prone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 800 2That goddess blind, That stands upon the rolling restless stone,] Fortune is described by Cebes, and by Pacuvius, in the Fragments of Latin Authors, p. 60, and the first book of the pieces to Herennius, precisely in these words of our poet. It is unnecessary to quote them. S. W. “Rolling restless &lblank;” In an Ode to Concord, which concludes the fourth Act of Gascoigne's Jocasta, we find the same combination of epithets, though applied to a different object: “&lblank; bred in sacred brest “Of him that rules the restlesse-rolling skie.” Steevens. For this idea our author seems indebted to The Spanish Tragedy: “Fortune is blind,— “Whose foot is standing on a rolling stone.” Ritson.

Note return to page 801 3Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to signify to you that fortune is plind:] Here the fool of a player was for making a joke, as Hamlet says, not set down for him, and showing a most pitiful ambition to be witty. For Fluellen, though he speaks with his country accent, yet is all the way represented as a man of good plain sense. Therefore, as it appears he knew the meaning of the term plind, by his use of it, he could never have said that “Fortune was painted plind, to signify she was plind.” He might as well have said afterwards, “that she was painted inconstant to signify she was inconstant.” But there he speaks sense; and so, unquestionably, he did here. We should therefore strike out the first plind, and read: “Fortune is painted with a muffler,” &c. Warburton. The old reading is the true one. Fortune the goddess is represented blind, to show that fortune, or the chance of life, is without discernment. Steevens. The picture of Fortune is taken from the old history of Fortunatus; where she is described to be a fair woman, muffled over the eyes. Farmer. A muffler appears to have been a fold of linen which partially covered a woman's face. So, in Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “On with my muffler.” See The Merry Wives of Windsor, vol. viii. p. 157, n. 5. Steevens. Minsheu, in his Dictionary, 1617, explains “a woman's muffler,” by the French word cachenez, which Cotgrave defines “a kind of mask for the face;” yet, I believe, it was made of linen, and that Minsheu only means to compare it to a mask, because they both might conceal part of the face. It was, I believe, a kind of hood, of the same form as the riding-hood now sometimes worn by men, that covered the shoulders, and a great part of the face. This agrees with the only other passage in which the word occurs in these plays: “&lblank; I spy a great beard under her muffler.” Merry Wives of Windsor. See also the verses cited from the Cobler's Prophecy, vol. iv. p. 273: “Now is she barefast to be seene, straight on her muffler goes: “Now is she hufft up to the crowne, straight nuzled to the nose.” Malone.

Note return to page 802 4&lblank; In good truth, &c.] The reading here is made out of two copies, the quarto, and the first folio. Malone.

Note return to page 803 5For he hath stol'n a pix,] The old editions read—pax. “And this is conformable to history,” says Mr. Pope, “a soldier (as Hall tells us) being hanged at this time for such a fact.” Both Hall and Holinshed agree as to the point of the theft; but as to the thing stolen, there is not that conformity betwixt them and Mr. Pope. It was an ancient custom, at the celebration of mass, that when the priest pronounced these words, “Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum!” both clergy and people kissed one another. And this was called Osculum Pacis, the Kiss of Peace. But that custom being abrogated, a certain image is now presented to be kissed, which is called a Pax. But it was not this image which Bardolph stole; it was a pix, or little chest, (from the Latin word, pixis, a box,) in which the consecrated host was used to be kept. “A foolish soldier,” says Hall expressly, and Holinshed after him, “stole a pix out of a church, and unreverently did eat the holy hostes within the same contained.” Theobald. What Theobald says is true, but might have been told in fewer words: I have examined the passage in Hall. Yet Dr. Warburton rejected that emendation, and continued Pope's note without animadversion. It is pax in the folio, 1623, but altered to pix by Theobald and Sir T. Hanmer. They signified the same thing. See Pax at Mass, Minsheu's Guide into the Tongues. Pix or pax was a little box in which were kept the consecrated wafers. Johnson. So, in May-Day, a comedy, by Chapman, 1611: “&lblank; Kiss the pax, and be quiet, like your other neighbours.” So, in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “Then with this hallow'd crucifix, “This holy wafer, and this pix.” That a pix and a pax were different things, may also be seen from the following passage in The History of our Blessed Lady of Loretto, 12mo. 1608, p. 595: “&lblank; a cup, and a sprinkle for holy water, a pix and a pax, all of excellent chrystal, gold and amber.” Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 677: “&lblank; palmes, chalices, crosses, vestments, pixes, paxes, and such like.” Steevens. Pix is apparently right. In Henry the VIIth's will it is said: “Forasmoch as we have often and many tymes to our inwarde regrete and displeasure seen at our Jen, in diverse many churches of our reame, the holie sacrament of the aulter, kept in ful simple, and inhonest pixes, spicially pixes of copre and tymbre; we have appointed and commaunded the treasurer of our chambre, and maistre of our juell-houss, to cause to be made furthwith, pixes of silver and gilt, in a greate nombre, for the keeping of the holie sacrament of the aultre, after the faction of a pixe that we have caused to be delivered to theim. Every of the said pixes to be of the value of iiiil. garnished with our armes, and rede roses and poart-colis crowned.” P. 38. Reed. The old copies have pax, which was a piece of board on which the image of Christ on the cross; which the people used to kiss after the service was ended. I have adopted Mr. Theobald's emendation, for the reason which he assigns. Holinshed (whom our author followed) says, “a foolish soldier stole a pixe out of a church, for which cause he was apprehended, and the king would not once more remove till the box was restored, and the offender strangled.” The following, as Mr. Tyrwhitt has elsewhere observed, is one of the Ordinances des Battailes, 9 R. II.: “Item, que nul soit si hardi de toucher le corps de noster Seigneur, ni le vessel en quel il est, sur peine d'estre trainez et pendu, et le teste avoir coupé.” MS. Cotton, Nero, D 6. Malone.

Note return to page 804 6Why then rejoice therefore.] This passage, with several others in the character of Pistol, is ridiculed by Ben Jonson, in The Poetaster, as follows: “Why then lament therefore; damn'd be thy guts “Unto king Pluto's hell, and princely Erebus; “For sparrows must have food.” Steevens. The former part of this passage, in The Poetaster, seems rather to be a parody on one of Pistol's in King Henry IV. Part II. p. 224: “Why then lament therefore.” But probably in both cases our author had in his thoughts a very contemptible play of Marlow's, The Massacre of Paris: “The Guise is dead, and I rejoice therefore.” Malone.

Note return to page 805 7&lblank; figo for thy friendship!] This expression occurs likewise in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1610: “&lblank; water at the dock; “A fico for her dock.” Again: “A fico for the sun and moon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 806 8The fig of Spain!] This is no allusion to the fico already explained in King Henry IV. Part II. but to the custom of giving poisoned figs to those who were the objects either of Spanish or Italian revenge. The quartos 1600 and 1608 read: “The fig of Spain within thy jaw:” and afterwards: “The fig within thy bowels and thy dirty maw.” So, in The Fleire, 1610, a comedy: “Fel. Give them a fig. “Flo. Make them drink their last. “Poison them.” Again, in The Brothers, by Shirley, 1652: “I must poison him; one fig sends him to Erebus.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour: “The lye to a man of my coat, is as ominous a fruit as the fico.” Again, in one of Gascoigne's Poems: “It may fall out that thou shalt be entic'd “To sup sometimes with a magnifico, “And have a fico foisted in thy dish,” &c. Again, in Decker's Match Me in London, 1631: “Cor. Now do I look for a fig. “Gaz. Chew none, fear nothing.” And the scene of this play lies at Seville. Again, in The Noble Soldier, 1634: “&lblank; Is it [poison] speeding?— “As all our Spanish figs are.” Again, in Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “I look now for a Spanish fig, or an Italian sallad, daily.” Steevens. I believe ‘the fig of Spain’ is here used only as a term of contempt. In the old translation of Galateo of Manners and Behaviour, p. 81, we have: “She gave the Spanish figge, “With both her thumbes at once,” saith Dant. And a note says, “Fiche is the thrusting of the thumbe betweene the forefinger; which eyther for the worde, or the remembrance of something thereby signified, is reputed amongst the Italians as a word of shame.” Reed. And, in Fulwell's Art of Flattery: “And thus farewell I will returne   “To lady hope agayne; “And for a token I thee sende   A doting fig of Spayne.” Henley. Mr. Douce has amply explained this phrase in his Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 492. Boswell.

Note return to page 807 9&lblank; Very good.] Instead of these two words, the quartos read: “Captain Gower, cannot you hear it lighten and thunder?” Steevens.

Note return to page 808 1&lblank; a sconce,] Appears to have been some hasty, rude, inconsiderable kind of fortification. Sir Thomas Smythe, in one of his Discourses on the Art Military, 1589, mentions them in the following manner: “&lblank; and that certain sconces by them devised, without any bulwarks, flanckers, travasses, mounts, platformes, wet or drie ditches, in forme, with counterscarps, or any other good forme of fortification; but only raised and formed with earth, turfe, trench, and certen poynts, angles, and indents, should be able to hold out the enemie,” &c. Steevens. So, Falstaff, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “I will ensconce (i. e. entrench) myself behind the arras.” Blackstone.

Note return to page 809 2&lblank; a beard of the general's cut,] It appears from an old ballad inserted in a Miscellany, entitled Le Prince d'Amour, 8vo. 1660, that our ancestors were very curious in the fashion of their beards, and that a certain cut or form was appropriated to the soldier, the bishop, the judge, the clown, &c. The spade-beard, and perhaps the stiletto-beard also, was appropriated to the first of these characters. It is observable that our author's patron, Henry Earl of Southampton, who spent much of his time in camps, is drawn with the latter of these beards; and his unfortunate friend, Lord Essex, is constantly represented with the former. In the ballad above mentioned the various forms of this fantastick ornament are thus described: “Now of beards there be, “Such a companie,   “Of fashions such a throng, “That it is very hard “To treat of the beard,   “Though it be ne'er so long. &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; “The steeletto beard, “O, it makes me afeard,   “It is so sharp beneath; “For he that doth place “A dagger in his face,   “What wears he in his sheath? &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; “The soldiers beard, “Doth match in this herd,   “In figure like a spade; “With which he will make “His enemies quake,   “To think their grave is made. “Next the clown doth out-rush, “With the beard of the bush,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 810 3&lblank; a horrid suit of the camp,] Thus the folio. The quartos 1600, &c. read—“a horrid shout of the camp.” Steevens. Suit, I have no doubt, is the true reading. Soldiers shout in a field of battle, but not in a camp. Suit, in our author's time, appears to have been pronounced shoot: (See vol. iv. p. 348, n. 1.) hence probably the corrupt reading of the quarto. Malone.

Note return to page 811 4&lblank; such slanders of the age,] This was a character very troublesome to wise men in our author's time. “It is the practice with him (says Ascham) to be warlike, though he never looked enemy in the face; yet some warlike sign must be used, as a slovenly buskin, or an over-staring frownced head, as though out of every hair's top should suddenly start a good big oath.” Johnson. Pistol's character seems to have been formed on that of Basilisco, a cowardly braggart in Solyman and Persida, which was performed before 1592. A basilisk is the name of a great gun. Malone.

Note return to page 812 5&lblank; I must speak with him from the pridge.] “Speak with him from the pridge, (Mr. Pope tells us,) is added to the latter editions; but that it is plain, from the sequel, that the scene here continues, and the affair of the bridge is over.” This is a most inaccurate criticism. Though the affair of the bridge be over, is that a reason, that the king must receive no intelligence from thence? Fluellen, who comes from the bridge, wants to acquaint the king with the transactions that had happened there. This he calls speaking to the king from the bridge. Theobald. With this Dr. Warburton concurs. Johnson. The words, “from the bridge,” are in the folio 1623, but not in the quarto; and I suspect that they were caught by the compositor from King Henry's first speech on his entrance. Malone.

Note return to page 813 6&lblank; and Soldiers.] The direction in the folio is—“Enter the King and his poor Soldiers.” This was, I suppose, inserted, that their appearance might correspond with the subsequent description in the chorus of Act IV.: “The poor condemned English,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 814 7&lblank; and whelks, and knobs,] So, in Chaucer's character of a Sompnour, from which, perhaps, Shakspeare took some hints for his description of Bardolph's face: “A Sompnour was ther with us in that place “That hadde a fire-red cherubinnes face, &c. “&lblank; &lblank; &lblank; &lblank; “Ther n'as quicksilver, litarge, ne brimston, “Boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non, “Ne oinement that wolde clense or bite, “That might him helpen of his whelkes white, “Ne of the knobbes sitting on his chekes.” See the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edition, v. 628, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 815 8&lblank; but his nose is executed, &c.] It appears from what Pistol has just said to Fluellen, that Bardolph was not yet executed; or, at least, that Fluellen did not know that he was executed. But Fluellen's language must not be too strictly examined. A passage in King Henry VI. Part II. may serve to show that there is no error here. Cade, after he is wounded, and just as he is dying, says: “Wither garden, &c. because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.” Malone.

Note return to page 816 9&lblank; his fire's out.] This is the last time that any sport can be made with the red face of Bardolph, which, to confess the truth, seems to have taken more hold on Shakspeare's imagination than on any other. The conception is very cold to the solitary reader, though it may be somewhat invigorated by the exhibition on the stage. This poet is always more careful about the present than the future, about his audience than his readers. Johnson.

Note return to page 817 1Enter Montjoy.] Mont-joie is the title of the first king at arms in France, as Garter is in our own country. Steevens.

Note return to page 818 2&lblank; by my habit.] That is, by his herald's coat. The person of a herald being inviolable, was distinguished in those times of formality by a peculiar dress, which is likewise yet worn on particular occasions. Johnson.

Note return to page 819 3&lblank; Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep;] So, in Measure for Measure: “The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.” Malone.

Note return to page 820 4&lblank; upon our cue,] In our turn. This phrase the author learned among players, and has imparted it to kings. Johnson.

Note return to page 821 5&lblank; so much my office.] This speech, as well as another preceding it, was compressed into verse by Mr. Pope. Where he wanted a syllable, he supplied it, and where there were too many for his purpose, he made suitable omissions. Shakspeare (if we may believe the most perfect copy of the play, i. e. that in the first folio,) meant both speeches for prose, and as such I have printed them. Steevens.

Note return to page 822 6Without impeachment:] i. e. hindrance. Empechement, French. In a book entitled, Miracles lately wrought by the Intercession of the glorious Virgin Marie, at Mont-aigu, nere unto Sich&ebar; in Brabant, &c. printed at Antwerp, by Arnold Conings, 1606, I meet with this word: “Wherefore he took it and without empeschment, or resistance, placed it againe in the oke.” Steevens. Impeachment, in the same sense, has always been used as a legal word in deeds, as—“without impeachment of waste:” i. e. without restraint or hindrance of waste. Reed. Without impeachment is, without being attacked. Impeachment, the legal word, is not from the French, but the Latin, impetere. See Blackstone, vol. ii. p. 283. Malone.

Note return to page 823 7&lblank; God before,] This was an expression in that age for God being my guide, or, when used to another, God be thy guide. So, in An old Dialogue between a Herdsman and a Maiden going on a Pilgrimage to Walsingham, the herdsman takes his leave in these words: “Now, go thy ways, and God before.” To prevent was used in the same sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 824 8&lblank; There's for thy labour, Montjoy, Go, bid thy master well advise himself: &lblank; We shall your tawny ground with your red blood Discolour:] From Holinshed: “My desire is, that none of you be so unadvised, as to be the occasion that I in my defence shall colour and make red your tawny ground with the effusion of christian bloud. When he [Henry] had thus answered the herauld, he gave him a greate rewarde, and licensed him to depart.” Malone. It appears from many ancient books that it was always customary to reward a herald, whether he brought defiance or congratulation. So, in the ancient metrical history of The Battle of Floddon: “Then gave he to the herald's hand,   “Besides, with it, a rich reward; “Who hasten'd to his native land   “To see how with his king it far'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 825 9&lblank; Scene VII.] This scene is shorter, and I think better, in the first editions of 1600 and 1608. But as the enlargements appear to be the author's own, I would not omit them. Pope.

Note return to page 826 1He bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were hairs:] Alluding to the bounding of tennis-balls, which were stuffed with hair, as appears from Much Ado About Nothing: “And the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuff'd tennis-balls.” Warburton.

Note return to page 827 2&lblank; he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him,] Thus Cleopatra, speaking of herself: “I am air and fire; my other elements “I give to baser life.” Steevens. So, in our author's 44th Sonnet: “&lblank; so much of earth and water wrought, “I must attend time's leisure with my moan.” Again, in Twelfth Night: “Do not our lives consist of the four elements?” Malone.

Note return to page 828 3&lblank; and all other jades you may call—beasts.] It is plain that jades and beasts should change places, it being the first word, and not the last, which is the term of reproach; as afterwards it is said: “I had as lief have my mistress a jade.” Warburton. There is no occasion for this change. In The Second Part of King Henry IV. Sc. I.: “&lblank; he gave his able horse the head, “And, bending forward, struck his armed heels “Against the panting sides of the poor jade.” Again, in Arthur Hall's translation of the 4th Iliad: “Two horses tough ech one it [his chariot] hath, the jades they are not dul, “Of barley white, of rie and oates, they feede in mangier full.” Jade is sometimes used for a post horse. Beast is always employed as a contemptuous distinction. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; what beast was't then “That made you break this enterprize to me?” Again, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; what a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against so good a time!” Steevens. I agree with Warburton in supposing that the words—beasts and jades have changed places. Steevens says, that beast is always employed as a contemptuous distinction, and, to support this assertion, he quotes a passage from Macbeth, and another from Timon, in which it appears that men were called beasts, where abuse was intended. But though the word beast be a contemptuous distinction, as he terms it, when applied to a man, it does not follow that it should be so when applied to a horse. He forgets the following speech in Hamlet, which militates strongly against his assertion: “&lblank; he grew unto his seat, “And to such wond'rous doings brought his horse, “As he had been incorps'd, and demi-natur'd “With the brave beast.” But the word jade is always used in a contemptuous sense; and in the passage which Steevens quotes from The Second Part of Henry IV. the able horse is called a poor jade, merely because the poor beast was supposed to be jaded. The word is there an expression of pity, not of contempt. M. Mason. I cannot forbear subjoining two queries to this note. In the passage quoted by Mr. M. Mason from Hamlet, is not the epithet brave added, to exempt the word beast from being received in a slight sense of degradation? Is not, in the instance quoted by me from Henry IV. the epithet poor supplied, to render jade an object of compassion? Jade is a term of no very decided meaning. It sometimes signifies a hackney, sometimes a vicious horse, and sometimes a tired one; and yet I cannot help thinking, in the present instance, that as a horse is degraded by being called a jade, so a jade is vilified by being termed a beast. Steevens. I do not think there is any ground for the transposition proposed by Dr. Warburton, who would make jades and beasts change places. Words under the hand of either a transcriber or compositor, never thus leap out of their places. The Dauphin evidently means, that no other horse has so good a title as his, to the appellation peculiarly appropriated to that fine and useful animal. The general term for quadrupeds may suffice for all other horses. Malone.

Note return to page 829 4&lblank; Wonder of Nature,] Here, I suppose, some foolish poem of our author's time is ridiculed; which indeed partly appears from the answer. Warburton. In The First Part of King Henry VI. Act V. Sc. IV. Shakspeare himself uses the phrase which he here seems to ridicule: “Be not offended, nature's miracle!” Malone. The phrase is only reprehensible through its misapplication. It is surely proper when applied to a woman, but ridiculous indeed when addressed to a horse. Steevens.

Note return to page 830 5&lblank; like a Kerne of Ireland, your French hose off, and in your strait trossers.] This word very frequently occurs in the old dramatick writers. A man in The Coxcomb of Beaumont and Fletcher, speaking to an Irish servant, says, “I'll have thee flead, and trossers made of thy skin, to tumble in.” Trossers appear to have been tight breeches.—The Kernes of Ireland anciently rode without breeches, and therefore strait trossers, I believe, means only in their naked skin, which sits close to them. The word is still preserved, but now written—trowsers. Thus, says Randle Holme, in his Academy of Arms and Blazon, b. iii. ch. iii.: “The Spanish breeches are those that are stret and close to the thigh, and are buttoned up the sides from the knee with about ten or twelve buttons: anciently called trowses.” Steevens. “Trowses, (says the explanatory Index to Cox's History of Ireland,) are breeches and stockings made to sit as close to the body as can be” Several of the morris-dancers represented upon the print of my window have such hose or strait trowsers; but the poet seems, by the waggish context, to have a further meaning. Tollet. The following passage in Heywood's Challenge for Beauty, 1636, proves that the ancient Irish trousers were somewhat more than mere buff: “Manhurst. No, for my money give me your substantial English hose, round, and somewhat full afore. “Maid. Now they are, methinks, a little too great. “Manh. The more the discretion of the landlord that builds them,—he makes room enough for his tenant to stand upright in them;—he may walk in and out at ease without stooping: but of all the rest I am clean out of love with your Irish trowses; they are for all the world like a jealous wife, always close at a man's tayle.” The speaker is here circumstantially describing the fashions of different countries. So again, in Bulwer's Pedigree of the English Gallant, 1653: “Bombasted and paned hose were, since I remember, in fashion; but now our hose are made so close to our breeches, that, like Irish trowses, they too manifestly discover the dimension of every part.” In Sir John Oldcastle, the word is spelt strouces. Collins. The old copy reads—strossers. The correction was made by Mr. Theobald; who observes, that “by strait trossers the poet means femoribus denudatis, for the Kerns of Ireland wore no breeches, any more than the Scotch Highlanders.” The explication is, I think, right; but that the Kerns of Ireland universally rode without breeches, may be doubted. It is clear, from Mr. Tollet's note, and from many passages in books of our author's age, that the Irish strait trossers or trowsers were not merely figurative; though in consequence of their being made extremely tight, Shakspeare has here employed the words in an equivocal sense. When Sir John Perrot, Lord Deputy of Ireland in 1585, insisted on the Irish nobility wearing the English dress, and appearing in parliament in robes, one of them, being very loth to change his old habit, requested that the deputy would order his chaplain to walk through the streets with him in trowses, “for then, (said he,) the boys will laugh at him as well as me.” See also Ware's Antiquities and History of Ireland, ch. ii. edit. 1705: “Of the other garments of the Irish, namely of their little coats and strait breeches, called trouses, I have little worth notice to deliver.” Malone.

Note return to page 831 6&lblank; the armour &lblank; are those stars, &c.] This circumstance of military finery is alluded to by Sidney, in his Astrophel and Stella: “But if I by a happy window passe, “If I but starres upon my armour beare— “Your mortall notes straight my hid meaning teare &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 832 7Who will go to hazard with me for twenty English prisoners?] So, in the old anonymous Henry V.: “Come and you see what me tro at the king's drummer and fife.” “Faith, me will tro at the earl of Northumberland; and now I will tro at the king himself,” &c. This incident, however, might have been furnished by the Chronicle. Steevens. See p. 385, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 833 8&lblank; his lackey:] He has beaten nobody but his footboy. Johnson.

Note return to page 834 9&lblank; 'tis a hooded valour; and, when it appears, it will bate.] This is said with allusion to falcons which are kept hooded when they are not to fly at game, and, as soon as the hood is off, bait or flap the wing. The meaning is, the Dauphin's valour has never been let loose upon an enemy, yet, when he makes his first essay, we shall see how he will flutter. Johnson. See vol. xvi. p. 359, n. 3. Malone. “This is a poor pun, taken from the terms used in falconry. The whole sense and sarcasm depends upon the equivoque of one word, viz. bate, in sound, but not in orthography, answering to the term bait in falconry. When the hawk is unhooded, her first action is baiting, that is, flapping her wings, as a preparation to her flying at the game. The hawk wants no courage, but invariably baits upon taking off the hood. The Constable of France sarcastically says of the Dauphin's courage, ‘'Tis a hooded valour (i. e. it is hid from every body but his lackey,) and when it appears, (by preparing to engage the enemy,) it will bate’ (i. e. fall off, evaporate); and not, as Dr. Johnson supposes, bluster or flutter the wings, in allusion to the metaphor.” Suppl. to the Gent. Mag. 1789, p. 1199. Steevens.

Note return to page 835 1I will cap that proverb &lblank;] Alluding to the practice of capping verses. Johnson.

Note return to page 836 2&lblank; with—A pox of the devil.] The quartos, 1600 and 1608, read—“with, a jogge of the devil.” Steevens. I think the reading of the quartos is right. “A jogge of the devil” means ‘the devil is at your elbow, jogging you.” In Heywood's Epigrams, 1566, sig. S. iii.: “The devil is dead, then hast thou lost a freende; “In all thy doinges, the devill was at t'one end.” Boswell.

Note return to page 837 3Would it were day!] Instead of this and the succeeding speeches, the quartos, 1600 and 1608, conclude this scene with a couplet: “&lblank; Come, come away; “The sun is high, and we wear out the day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 838 4&lblank; peevish &lblank;] In ancient language, signified—foolish, silly. Many examples of this are given in a note on Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. VII.: “He's strange and peevish.” Steevens.

Note return to page 839 5&lblank; they would run away.] It has been said that the French of the present day still persist in this reproach against our countrymen. Boswell.

Note return to page 840 5&lblank; give them great meals of beef,] So, in King Edward III. 1596: “&lblank; but scant them of their chines of beef, “And take away their downy featherbeds,” &c. Steevens. Our author had the Chronicle in his thoughts: “&lblank; keep an English man one month from his warm bed, fat beef, stale drink,” &c. So also, in the old King Henry V.: “Why, take an Englishman out of his warm bed, “And his stale drink, but one moneth, “And, alas, what will become of him?” Malone. Otway has the same thought in his Venice Preserved: “Give but an Englishman, &c. “Beef, and a sea-coal fire, he's yours for ever.” Boswell.

Note return to page 841 6Fills the wide vessel of the universe.] Universe, for horizon: for we are not to think Shakspeare so ignorant as to imagine it was night over the whole globe at once. He intimates he knew otherwise, by that fine line in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; following darkness like a dream.” Besides, the image he employs shows he meant but half the globe; the horizon round, which has the shape of a vessel or goblet. Warburton. There is a better proof, that Shakspeare knew the order of night and day, in Macbeth: “Now o'er the one half world “Nature seems dead.” But there was no great need of any justification. The universe, in its original sense, no more means this globe singly than the circuit of the horizon; but, however large in its philosophical sense, it may be poetically used for as much of the world as falls under observation. Let me remark further, that ignorance cannot be certainly inferred from inaccuracy. Knowledge is not always present. Johnson.

Note return to page 842 7&lblank; stilly sounds,] A similar idea perhaps was meant to be given by Barnaby Googe, in his version of Palingenius, 1561: “Which with a pleasaunt hushyng sound,   “Provok'd the ioyes of bed.” Sæpe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro. Virg. Ecl. i. 56. Steevens. “&lblank; stilly sounds.” i. e. gently, lowly. So, in the sacred writings: “a still small voice.” Malone.

Note return to page 843 8The secret whispers of each other's watch:] Holinshed says, that the distance between the two armies was but two hundred and fifty paces. Malone.

Note return to page 844 9Fire answers fire;] This circumstance is also taken from Holinshed: “&lblank; but at their coming into the village, fires were made (by the English) to give light on every side, as there likewise were in the French hoste.” Malone.

Note return to page 845 1&lblank; the other's umber'd face:] Of this epithet, used by Shakspeare in his description of fires reflected by night, Mr. Pope knew the value, and has transplanted it into the Iliad on a like occasion: “Whose umber'd arms by turns thick flashes send.” Umber is a brown colour. So, in As You Like It: “And with a kind of umber smirch my face.” The distant visages of the soldiers would certainly appear of this hue, when beheld through the light of midnight fires. Umber'd, however, may signify shaded. Thus Caxton tells us that he—“emprysed tenprinte [Tully on Old Age] under the umbre and shadow of King Edward IV.” Again, in an old poem called The Castell of Labour, falshood is said to act “under the umbre of veryte.” Steevens. Umber'd certainly means here discoloured by the gleam of the fires. Umber is a dark yellow earth, brought from Umbria, in Italy, which, being mixed with water, produces such a dusky yellow colour as the gleam of fire by night gives to the countenance. Our author's profession probably furnished him with this epithet; for from an old manuscript play in my possession, entitled The Telltale, it appears that umber was used in the stage-exhibitions of his time. In that piece one of the marginal directions is, “He umbers her face.” Malone.

Note return to page 846 2Piercing the night's dull ear;] Hence perhaps the following idea in Milton's L'Allegro: “And singing startle the dull night.” Steevens.

Note return to page 847 3&lblank; and from the tents,] See the preparation for the battle between Palamon and Arcite, in Chaucer: “And on the morwe, when the day 'gan spring, “Of horse and harneis noise and clattering, “There was in the hostelries all aboute:— “The fomy stedes on the golden bridel “Gnawing, and fast the armureres also “With file and hammer priking to and fro,” &c. T. Warton. Thus also Statius, describing the preparations for the Trojan war: &lblank; innumerâ resonant incude Mycenæ. Achill. i. 414. Steevens.

Note return to page 848 3The armourers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up.] This does not solely refer to the business of rivetting the plate armour before it was put on, but as to part, when it was on. Thus the top of the cuirass had a little projecting bit of iron, that passed through a hole pierced through the bottom of the casque. When both were put on, the smith or armourer presented himself, with his rivetting hammer, to close the rivet up; so that the party's head should remain steady notwithstanding the force of any blow that might be given on the cuirass or helmet. This custom more particularly prevailed in tournaments. See Varietés Historiques, 1752, 12mo. tom. ii. p. 73. Douce.

Note return to page 849 4And the third hour of drowsy morning name.] The old copy—nam'd. Steevens How much better might we read thus? “The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll, “And the third hour of drowsy morning name.” Tyrwhitt. I have admitted this very necessary and elegant emendation. Steevens. Sir T. Hanmer, with almost equal probability, reads: “And the third hour of drowsy morning's nam'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 850 5&lblank; over-lusty &lblank;] i. e. over-saucy. So, in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “Cassius's soldiers did shewe themselves verie stubborne and lustie in the campe,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 851 6Do the low-rated English play at dice;] i. e. do play them away at dice. Warburton. From Holinshed; “The Frenchmen in the mean while, as though they had been sure of victory, made great triumphe, for the captaines had determined before how to divide the spoil, and the souldiers the night before had plaid the Englishmen at dice.” Malone.

Note return to page 852 7The confident and over-lusty French, &lblank; &lblank; The poor condemned English,] Our classical readers will not be displeased with an opportunity of comparing Shakspeare's picture of the French and English camps with that of the Barbarian and Roman troops, as exhibited in a night-scene by the masterly pencil of Tacitus, Annal. I. lxv.: “Nox per diversa inquies: cùm Barbari festis epulis, læto cantu, aut truci sonore subjecta vallium ac resultantes saltus complerent; apud Romanos invalidi ignes, interruptæ voces, atque ipsi passim adjacerent vallo, oberrarent tentoriis, insomnes magis quàm pervigiles. Ducemque terruit dira quies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 853 8Investing lank-lean cheeks,] A gesture investing cheeks and coats is nonsense. We should read: “Invest in lank-lean cheeks &lblank;” which is sense; i. e. their sad gesture was clothed, or set off, in lean cheeks and worn coats. The image is strong and picturesque. Warburton. I fancy Shakspeare might have written: “In fasting lank-lean cheeks, &lblank;” Heath. Change is unnecessary. The harshness of the metaphor is what offends, which means only, that their looks are invested in mournful gestures. Such another harsh metaphor occurs in Much Ado about Nothing: “For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, “I know not what to say.” Steevens. Gesture only relates to their cheeks, after which word there should be a comma, as in the first folio. In the second Song of Sidney's Astrophel and Stella: “Anger invests the face with a lovely grace.” Tollet.

Note return to page 854 9Presenteth them &lblank;] The old copy reads—presented. But the present time runs throughout the whole of the description, except in this instance, where the change seems very improper. I believe we should read, with Hanmer, presenteth. Steevens. The emendation, in my opinion, needs no justification. The false concord is found in every page of the old editions. Here it cannot be corrected. A passage in King Henry VI. Part III. in which the same false concord is found, may serve to support and justify the emendation here made: “The red rose and the white are in his face, “The fatal colours of our striving houses: “The one his purple blood right well resembleth; “The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth.” Of the two last lines there is no trace in the old play on which The Third Part of King Henry VI. is founded. Malone.

Note return to page 855 1A largess universal, like the sun, His liberal eye doth give to every one,] “Non enim vox illa præceptoris, ut cœna, minus pluribus sufficit; sed ut sol, universis idem lucis calorisque largitur.” Quintil. de Instit. Orat. lib. i. c. ii. And Pope, Rape of the Lock, cant. ii. v. 14: “Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, “And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.” Holt White.

Note return to page 856 2&lblank; Then mean, &c.] Old copy—That mean. Malone. As this stood, it was a most perplexed and nonsensical passage, and could not be intelligible, but as I have corrected it. The poet, addressing himself to every degree of his audience, tells them he'll show (as well as his unworthy pen and powers can describe it) a little touch or sketch of this hero in the night; a faint resemblance of that cheerfulness and resolution which this brave prince expressed in himself, and inspired in his followers. Theobald.

Note return to page 857 3Minding true things,] To mind is the same as to call to remembrance. Johnson.

Note return to page 858 4That we should 'dress us fairly for our end.] Dress us, I believe, means here, address us; i. e. prepare ourselves. So before, in this play: “To-morrow for our march we are address'd.” It should therefore be printed—'dress us. Malone. I do not recollect that any of our author's plays affords an example of the word address thus abbreviated. Dress, in its common acceptation, may be the true reading. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “They come like sacrifices in their trim.” Steevens.

Note return to page 859 5&lblank; old sir Thomas Erpingham:] Sir Thomas Erpingham came over with Bolingbroke from Bretagne, and was one of the commissioners to receive King Richard's abdication. Edwards's MS. Sir Thomas Erpingham was in Henry V.'s time warden of Dover castle. His arms are still visible on one side of the Roman pharos. Steevens.

Note return to page 860 6With casted slough, &c.] Slough is the skin which the serpent annually throws off, and by the change of which he is supposed to regain new vigour and fresh youth. Legerity is lightness, nimbleness, Johnson. So, in Stanyhurst's translation of Virgil, book iv. 1582: “His slough uncasing, himself now youthfully bleacheth.” Legerity is a word used by Ben Jonson, in Every Man out of his Humour. Steevens.

Note return to page 861 7Trailest thou the puissant pike?] So, at the beginning of Chapman's Revenge for Honour: “&lblank; a wife “Fit for the trayler of the puissant pike.” Farmer.

Note return to page 862 8&lblank; an imp of fame;] An imp is a shoot in its primitive sense, but means a son in Shakspeare. In Holinshed, p. 951, the last words of Lord Cromwell are preserved, who says: “&lblank; and after him that his sonne prince Edward, that goodlie impe, may long reigne over you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 863 9It sorts &lblank;] i. e. it agrees. So, in Chapman's version of the 17th book of the Odyssey: “His faire long lance well sorting with his hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 864 1&lblank; speak lower.] The earliest of the quartos reads— “speak lewer,” which in that of 1608 is made lower. The alterations made in the several quartos, and in all the folios that succeeded the first, by the various printers or correctors through whose hands they passed, carry with them no authority whatsoever; yet here the correction happens, I think, to be right. The editors of the folio read—“speak fewer.” I have no doubt that in their MS. (for this play they evidently printed from a MS. which was not the case in some others,) the word by the carelessness of the transcriber was lewer, (as in that copy from which the quarto was printed,) and that, in order to obtain some sense, they changed this to fewer. Fluellen could not, with any propriety, call on Gower to speak fewer, he not having uttered a word except “Captain Fluellen!” Meeting Fluellen late at night, and not being certain who he was, he merely pronounced his name. Having addressed him too high a key, the Welshman reprimands him; and Gower justifies himself by saying that the enemy spoke so loud, that the English could hear them all night. But what he says as he is going out, puts, I think, the emendation that I have adopted beyond a doubt, I will do as you desire; “I will speak lower.” Shakspeare has here as usual followed Holinshed: “Order was taken by commandement from the king, after the army was first set in battayle array, that no noise or clamour should be made in the hoste.” Malone. To “speak lower” is the more familiar reading; but to “speak few,” is a provincial phrase still in use among the vulgar in some counties; signifying, to speak in a calm, small voice; and consequently has the same meaning as low. In Sussex I heard one female servant say to another—“Speak fewer, or my mistress will hear you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 865 2&lblank; I warrant you, &c.] Amongst the laws and ordinances militarie set down by Robert Earl of Leicester in the Low Countries, printed at Leyden, 1586, one is, that “No man shall make anie outcrie or noise in any watch, ward, ambush, or anie other place where silence is requisite, and necessarie, upon paine of losse of life or limb at the general's discretion.” Reed.

Note return to page 866 3&lblank; conditions:] Are qualities The meaning is, that objects are represented by his senses to him, as to other men by theirs. What is danger to another is danger likewise to him; and, when he feels fear, it is like the fear of meaner mortals. Johnson.

Note return to page 867 4&lblank; though his affection are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing;] This passage alludes to the ancient sport of falconry. When the hawk, after soaring aloft, or mounting high, descended in its flight, it was said to stoop. So, in an old song on falconry in my MS. of old songs, p. 480: “She flieth at one “Her marke jumpe upon,   “And mounteth the welkin cleare; “Then right she stoopes, “When the falkner he whoopes,   “Triumphing in her chaunticleare.” Percy.

Note return to page 868 5&lblank; his cause being just, and his quarrel honourable.] So, Holinshed: “&lblank; calling his capitaines and his souldiers aboute him, he [Henry V.] made to them a right harty oration, requiring them to play the men, that they might obtaine a glorious victorie, as there was good hope they should, if they would remember the just cause and quarrel for the whiche they fought.” Malone.

Note return to page 869 6Bates. Ay, or more, &c.] This sentiment does not correspond with what Bates has just before said. The speech, I believe, should be given to Court. See p. 397, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 870 7&lblank; the latter day,] i. e. the last day, the day of judgment. Our author has, in other instances, used the comparative for the superlative. Steevens.

Note return to page 871 8&lblank; their children rawly left.] That is, without preparation, hastily, suddenly. What is not matured is raw. So, in Macbeth: “Why in this rawness left he wife and children?” Johnson. Rawly left, is left young and helpless. Ritson.

Note return to page 872 9&lblank; the broken seals of perjury;] So, in the song at the beginning of the fourth Act of Measure for Measure: “That so sweetly were forsworn— “Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 873 1&lblank; native punishment,] That is, punishment in their native country. Heath. So, in a subsequent scene: “A many of our bodies shall, no doubt, “Find native graves.” Malone. Native punishment is such as they are born to, if they offend. Steevens.

Note return to page 874 2Every subject's duty &lblank;] This is a very just distinction, and the whole argument is well followed, and properly concluded. Johnson.

Note return to page 875 3&lblank; every mote &lblank;] Old copy—moth, which was only the ancient spelling of mote. I have shewn this to be the case, where I have proposed the true reading of a passage in King John. See vol. xv. p. 312, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 876 4Will. 'Tis certain, &c.] In the quarto this little speech is not given to the same soldier who endeavours to prove that the King was answerable for the mischiefs of war; and who afterwards gives his glove to Henry. The persons are indeed there only distinguished by figures, 1, 2, 3. But this circumstance, as well as the tenour of the present speech, shows, that it does not belong to Williams, who has just been maintaining the contrary doctrine. It might with propriety be transferred to Court, who is on the scene, and says scarcely a word. Malone.

Note return to page 877 5Mass, you'll pay him then!] To pay, in old language, meant to thrash or beat; and here signifies to bring to account, to punish. See vol. xvi. p. 276, n. 2. The text is here made out from the folio and quarto. Malone. It is from the folio, except that it reads merely—You pay him then. The quarto gives the speech thus: “Mas youle pay him then, 'tis a great displeasure “That an elder gun can do against a cannon, “Or a subject against a monarke, “Youle nere take his word again, youre an asse goe.” Boswell. “&lblank; pay him &lblank;” In addition to my note, vol. xvi. p. 276, it may be observed, that Falstaff says, in the same vol. p. 396: “I have paid Percy. I have made him sure.” Here he certainly means more than thrashed or beaten. Reed.

Note return to page 878 6&lblank; That's a perilous shot out of an elder gun,] In the old play [the quarto 1600,] the thought is more opened. It is a great displeasure that an elder gun can do against a cannon, or a subject against a monarch. Johnson.

Note return to page 879 *Quarto, somewhat better.

Note return to page 880 7&lblank; too round;] i. e. too rough, too unceremonious. So, in Hamlet: “'Pray you, be round with him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 881 8&lblank; twenty French crowns &lblank;] This conceit, rather too low for a king, has been already explained, as alluding to the venereal disease. Johnson. There is surely no necessity for supposing any allusion in this passage to the venereal disease. The conceit here seems to turn merely upon the equivocal sense of crown, which signifies either a coin, or a head. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 882 9Upon the king! &c.] This beautiful speech was added after the first edition. Pope. There is something very striking and solemn in this soliloquy, into which the King breaks immediately as soon as he is left alone. Something like this, on less occasions, every breast has felt. Reflection and seriousness rush upon the mind upon the separation of a gay company, and especially after forced and unwilling merriment. Johnson.

Note return to page 883 1Subjected to the breath &lblank;] The old copies have only— subject; but (for the sake of metre) I have not scrupled to read— subjécted, on the authority of the following passage in King John: “Subjécted tribute to commanding love &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 884 2What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in? O ceremony, show me but thy worth! What is the soul of adoration?] The first copy reads, “What? is thy soul of adoration?” This is incorrect, but I think we may discover the true reading easily enough to be, “What is thy soul, O adoration?” That is, “O reverence paid to kings, what art thou within? What are thy real qualities? What is thy intrinsick value?” Johnson. I have received Mr. Malone's amendment, which he thus explains: —“What is the real worth and instrinsick value of adoration?” The quarto has not this speech. The folio reads: “What? is thy soul of adoration?” Steevens. The latter word was corrected in the second folio. For the other emendation now made I am answerable. Thy, thee, and they, are frequently confounded in the old copies. In many of our author's plays we find similar expressions. In Troilus and Cressida, “my very soul of counsel;” in King Henry IV. Part I. “the soul of hope;” and in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, “the soul of love.” Again, in the play before us: “There is some soul of goodness in things evil.” Dr. Johnson reads: “What is thy soul, O adoration?” But the mistake appears to me more likely to have happened in the word thy than in of; and the examples that I have produced support that opinion. Malone.

Note return to page 885 3&lblank; farced title running, &c.] Farced is stuffed. The tumid puffy titles with which a king's name is always introduced. This, I think, is the sense. Johnson. So, in All for Money, by T. Lupton, 1578: “&lblank; belly-gods so swarm, “Farced, and flowing with all kind gall.” Again: “And like a greedy cormorant with belly full farced.” Again, in Jacob and Esau, 1568: “To make both broth and farcing, and that full deinty.” Again, in Stanyhurst's version of the first book of Virgil: “Or eels are farcing with dulce and delicat hoonny.” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “&lblank; farce thy lean ribs with it too.” Steevens.

Note return to page 886 4Can sleep so soundly, &c.] These lines are exquisitely pleasing. “To sweat in the eye of Phœbus,” and “to sleep in Elysium,” are expressions very poetical. Johnson.

Note return to page 887 5&lblank; but &lblank; little wots, What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace, Whose hours the peasant best advantages.] The sense of this passage, which is expressed with some slight obscurity, seems to be—“He little knows at the expence of how much royal vigilance, that peace, which brings most advantage to the peasant, is maintained.” To advantage is a verb elsewhere used by Shakspeare. Steevens. I find, from Mr. Twiss's valuable index, that it occurs in six other instances. Boswell.

Note return to page 888 6&lblank; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them!] The first folio reads—of the opposed numbers. Steevens. The poet might intend, “Take from them the sense of reckoning those opposed numbers; which might pluck their courage from them.” But the relative not being expressed, the sense is very obscure. The slight correction I have given [lest the opposed numbers &lblank;] makes it clear and easy. Theobald. The change is admitted by Dr. Warburton, and rightly. Sir T. Hanmer reads: “&lblank; the opposed numbers “Which stand before them.” This reading he borrowed from the old quarto, which gives the passage thus: “Take from them now the sense of reckoning, “That the opposed multitudes which stand before them “May not appal their courage.” Johnson. Theobald's alteration certainly makes a very good sense; but, I think, we might read, with less deviation from the present text: “&lblank; if th' opposed numbers “Pluck their hearts from them.” In conjectural criticism, as in mechanicks, the perfection of the art, I apprehend, consists in producing a given effect with the least possible force. Tyrwhitt. I think Theobald's reading preferable to that of Tyrwhitt, which the editor has adopted; for if the opposed numbers did actually pluck their hearts from them, it was of no consequence whether they had or had not the sense of reckoning. M. Mason. The ingenious commentator seems to forget that, if the sense of reckoning, in consequence of the King's petition, was taken from them, the numbers opposed to them would be no longer formidable. When they could no more count their enemies, they could no longer fear them. It will be the lot of few criticks to retire with advantage gained over the remarks of my lamented friend, Mr. Tyrwhitt. Steevens. The old reading appears to be right. The King prays that his men may be unable to reckon the enemy's force, that their hearts (i. e. their sense and passions) may be taken from them: that they may be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make them. An explanation which seems to be countenanced by the old quarto. Ritson. In King John, edit. 1632, these words [if and of: See the preceding note by Mr. Tyrwhitt:] have again been confounded: “Lord of our presence, Angiers, and if you,” instead of—of you. The same mistake has, I think, happened also in Twelfth-Night, folio, 1623: “For, such as we are made ifsuch we be.” Where we should certainly read— “For, such as we are made of, such we be.” In the subsequent scene we have again the same thought. The Constable of France, after exhorting his countrymen to take horse, adds— “Do but behold yon poor and starved band, “And your fair show shall suck away their souls, “Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.” In Hall's Chronicle, Henry IV. fol. 23, we find a kindred expression to that in the text: “Henry encouraged his part so, that they took their hearts to them, and manly fought with their enemies.” A passage in the speech which the same chronicler has put into Henry's mouth, before the battle of Agincourt, may also throw some light on that before us, and serve to support the emendation that has been made: “Therefore, putting your only trust in him, let not their multitude feare your heartes, nor their great number abate your courage.” The passage stands thus in the quarto, 1600: “Take from them now the sense of reckoning, “That the opposed numbers which stand before them, “May not appal their courage.” This fully refutes the notion of an anonymous Remarker, [Mr. Ritson,] who understands the word pluck as optative, and supposes that Henry calls on the God of battles to deprive his soldiers of their hearts; that is, of their courage, for such is evidently the meaning of the expression;—(so in the common phrase, “have a good heart,”—and in the passage just quoted from Hall;) though this commentator chooses to understand by the word—sense and passions. Mr. Theobald, and some other commentators, seem, indeed, to think that any word may be substituted for another, if thereby sense may be obtained; but a word ought rarely to be substituted in the room of another,unless either the emendation bears such an affinity to the corrupted reading, as that the error might have arisen from the mistake of the eye or ear of the compositor or transcriber; or a word has been caught inadvertently by the compositor from a preceding or a subsequent line. Malone.

Note return to page 889 7Two chantries,] One of these monasteries was for Carthusian monks, and was called Bethlehem; the other was for religious men and women of the order of Saint Bridget, and was named Sion. They were on opposite sides of the Thames, and adjoined the royal manor of Sheen, now called Richmond. Malone.

Note return to page 890 8Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon.] We must observe, that Henry IV. had committed an injustice, of which he and his son reaped the fruits. But reason tells us, justice demands that they who share the profits of iniquity, shall share also in the punishment. Scripture again tells us, that when men have sinned, the grace of God gives frequent invitations to repentance: which, in the language of divines, are styled calls. These, if neglected, or carelessly dallied with, are, at length, irrecoverably withdrawn, and then repentance comes too late. All this shows that the unintelligible reading of the text should be corrected thus: “&lblank; comes after call.” Warburton. I wish the commentator had explained his meaning a little better; for his comment is to me less intelligible than the text. I know not what he thinks of the King's penitence, whether coming in consequence of call, it is sufficient; or whether coming when calls have ceased, it is ineffectual. The first sense will suit but ill with the position, that all which he can do is nothing worth; and the latter as ill with the intention of Shakspeare, who certainly does not mean to represent the King as abandoned and reprobate. The old reading is, in my opinion, easy and right. I do all this, says the King, though all that I can do is nothing worth, is so far from an adequate expiation of the crime, that penitence comes after all, imploring pardon both for the crime and the expiation. Johnson. I am sensible that every thing of this kind, (works of piety and charity,) which I have done or can do, will avail nothing towards the remission of this sin; since I well know that, after all this is done, true repentance, and imploring pardon, are previously and indispensably necessary towards my obtaining it. Heath. I should not have reprinted Dr. Warburton's note but for the sake of Dr. Johnson's reply. Mr. Malone, however, thinks Mr. Heath's explication more correct. Steevens.

Note return to page 891 9Via!—les eaux et la terre &lblank;] Via is an old hortatory exclamation, as allons! Johnson. Dr. Johnson is right. So, in King Edward III. 1596: “Then Via! for the spacious bounds of France!” Again, in Parasitaster, or The Fawne, by John Marston, 1606: “Come Via! to this feastful entertainment!” Again, in Marston's What You Will, 1607: “Tut, Via! let all run glib and square!” Steevens. This dialogue will be best explained by referring to the seventh scene of the preceding Act, in which the Dauphin, speaking in admiration of his horse, says: “When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air:—It is a beast for Perseus; he is pure air and fire, and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him.” He now, seeing his horse at a distance, attempts to say the same thing in French: “Les eaux et la terre,” the waters and the earth—have no share in my horse's composition, he was going to have said; but is prevented by the Duke of Orleans, who replies—Can you add nothing more? Is he not air and fire? Yes, says the Dauphin, and even heaven itself. He had, in the former scene, called his horse Wonder of Nature. The words, however, may admit of a different interpretation. He may mean to boast that, when on horseback, he can bound over all the elements, and even soar to heaven itself. Malone. It is not easy to determine the import of the Dauphin's words. I do not, however, think the foregoing explanation right, because it excludes variety, by presuming that what has been already said in one language, is repeated in another. Perhaps this insignificant sprig of royalty is only capering about, and uttering a “rhapsody of words” indicative of levity and high spirits, but guiltless of any precise meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 892 1And dout them &lblank;] The first folio reads—doubt, which, perhaps, may have been used for to make to doubt, to terrify. Tyrwhitt. To doubt, or (as it ought to have been spelled) dout, is a word still used in Warwickshire, and signifies to do out, or extinguish. See a note on Hamlet, vol. vii. p. 229, n. 4. For this information I was indebted to my late friend, the Reverend H. Homer. Steevens. In the folio, where alone this passage is found, the word is written doubt. To dout, for to do out, is a common phrase at this day in Devonshire and the other western counties; where they often say, dout the fire, that is, put out the fire. Many other words of the same structure are used by our author; as, to don, i. e. to to do on, to doff, i. e. to do off, &c. In Hamlet he has used the same phrase: “&lblank; the dram of base “Doth all the noble substance of worth dout,” &c. The word being provincial, the same mistake has happened in both places; doubt being printed in Hamlet instead of dout. Mr. Pope for doubt substituted daunt, which was adopted in the subsequent editions. For the emendation now made I imagined I should have been answerable; but on looking into Mr. Rowe's edition I find he has anticipated me, and has printed the word as it is now exhibited in the text. Malone.

Note return to page 893 “That their hot blood may spin in English eyes, “And dout them with superfluous courage.” I have already in the notes on a contested passage in Hamlet, vol. vii. p. 229, questioned whether dout for do out was ever employed in any serious composition in our author's time. Mr. Tyrwhitt observes on the passage before us, that doubt, the reading of the folio, in both instances, may here have been used for to make to doubt, to terrify; I am satisfied that such was its meaning. Doubter, in Cotgrave's French Dictionary, is explained “to fear, awe, dread, redoubt;” from which last word redoubtable is derived, and that it had a similar acceptation in old English seems to be ascertained by a line in the old bl. l. romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys, quoted by Mr. Steevens in vol. v. p. 281, n. 2: “Let some priest a gospel saye, “For doute of fendes in the flode.”

Note return to page 894 2&lblank; suck away their souls,] This strong expression did not escape the notice of Dryden and Pope; the former having (less chastely) employed it in his Don Sebastian, King of Portugal: “Sucking each others' souls while we expire:” and the latter, in his Eloisa to Abelard: “Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul.” Steevens.

Note return to page 895 3About our squares of battle,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; no practice had “In the brave squares of war.” Steevens.

Note return to page 896 4&lblank; a hilding foe;] Hilding, or hinderling, is a low wretch. Johnson. So, in King Henry IV. Part II. p. 12: “He was some hilding fellow, that had stole “The horse he rode on.” Steevens.

Note return to page 897 5&lblank; upon this mountain's basis by &lblank;] See Henry's speech, Sc. VII.: “&lblank; take a trumpet, herald; “Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill.” Malone.

Note return to page 898 6The tucket-sonuance, &c.] He uses terms of the field as if they were going out only to the chace for sport. To dare the field is a phrase in falconry. Birds are dared when by the falcon in the air they are terrified from rising, so that they will be sometimes taken by the hand. Such an easy capture the lords expected to make of the English. Johnson. The tucket sonuance was, I believe, the name of an introductory flourish on the trumpet, as toccata in Italian is the prelude of a sonata on the harpsichord, and toccar la tromba is to blow the trumpet. In The Spanish Tragedy, (no date,) “a tucket afar off.” Again, in The Devil's Law Case, 1623: “2 tuckets by several trumpets.” Sonance is a word used by Heywood, in his Rape of Lucrece, 1630: “Or, if he chance to endure our tongues so much “As but to hear their sonance.” Steevens.

Note return to page 899 7You island carrions, &c.] This and the preceding description of the English is founded on the melancholy account given by our historians, of Henry's army, immediately before the battle of Agincourt: “The Englishmen were brought into great misery in this journey [from Harfleur to Agincourt]; their victual was in manner spent, and now could they get none:—rest could they none take, for their enemies were ever at hand to give them alarmes: daily it rained, and nightly it freezed; of fewel there was great scarcity, but of fluxes great plenty; money they had enough, but wares to bestowe it upon, for their relief or comforte, had they little or none.” Holinshed. Malone.

Note return to page 900 8Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,] By their ragged curtains, are meant their colours. M. Mason. The idea seems to have been taken from what every man must have observed, i. e. ragged curtains put in motion by the air, when the windows of mean houses are left open. Steevens.

Note return to page 901 9Their horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks, With torch-staves in their hand:] Grandpré alludes to the form of ancient candlesticks, which frequently represented human figures holding the sockets for the lights in their extended hands. A similar image occurs in Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “&lblank; he showed like a pewter candlestick, fashioned like a man in armour, holding a tilting staff in his hand little bigger than a candle.” The following is an exact representation of one of these candlesticks, now in the possession of Francis Douce, Esq. The receptacles for the candles are wanting in the original. The sockets in which they were to be placed are in the outstretched hands of the figure. The form of torch-staves may be ascertained by a wooden cut in vol. xiv. p. 372. Steevens.

Note return to page 902 1&lblank; gimmal bit &lblank;] Gimmal is, in the western counties, a ring: a gimmal bit is therefore a bit of which the parts played one within another. Johnson. I meet with the word, though differently spelt, in the old play of The Raigne of King Edward the Third, 1596: “Nor lay aside their jacks of gymold mail.” Gymold or gimmal'd mail means armour composed of links like those of a chain, which by its flexibility fitted it to the shape of the body more exactly than defensive covering of any other contrivance. There was a suit of it to be seen in the Tower. Spenser, in his Fairy Queen, book i. ch. v. calls it woven mail: “In woven mail all armed warily.” In Lingua, &c. 1607, is mentioned: “&lblank; a gimmal rink with one link hanging.” Steevens. “A gimmal or gemmow ring, (says Minsheu, Dictionary, 1617,) from the Gal. gemeau, Lat. gemellus, double, or twinnes, because they be rings with two or more links.” Malone.

Note return to page 903 2&lblank; their executors, the knavish crows,] The crows who are to have the disposal of what they shall leave, their hides and their flesh. Johnson.

Note return to page 904 3In life so lifeless &lblank;] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “A living dead man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 905 4I stay but for my guard;] It seems, by what follows, that guard in this place means rather something of ornament or of distinction, than a body of attendants. Johnson. The following quotation from Holinshed, p. 554, will best elucidate this passage: “The duke of Brabant when his standard was not come, caused a banner to be taken from a trumpet and fastened upon a spear, the which he commanded to be borne before him instead of a standard.” In the second part of Heywood's Iron Age, 1632, Menelaus, after having enumerated to Pyrrhus the treasures of his father Achilles, as his myrmidons, &c. adds: “His sword, spurs, armour, guard, pavilion.” From this last passage it should appear that guard was part of the defensive armour; perhaps what we call at present the gorget. Again, in Holinshed, p. 820: “The one bare his helmet, the second his granguard,” &c. Steevens. By his guard, I believe, the Constable means, not any part of his dress, but the guard that usually attended with his banner; to supply the want of which he afterwards says, that he will take a banner from a trumpet, and use it for his haste. It appears, from a passage in the last scene of the fourth Act, that the principal nobility, and the princes, had all their respective banners, and of course their guards: “Of princes in this number, “And nobles bearing banners, there be dead “One hundred,” &c. M. Mason. Dr. Johnson and Mr. Steevens are of opinion that “guard in this place means rather something of ornament, or of distinction, than a body of attendants.” But from the following passage in Holinshed, p. 554, which our author certainly had in his thoughts, it is clear, in my apprehension, that guard is here used in its ordinary sense: “When the messenger was come back to the French hoste, the men of warre put on their helmettes, and caused their trumpets to blow to the battaile. They thought themselves so sure of victory, that diverse of the noble men made such haste toward the battaile, that they left many of their servants and men of warre behind them, and some of them would not once stay for their standards; as amongst other the Duke of Brabant, when his standard was not come, caused a banner to be taken from a trumpet, and fastened to a speare, the which he commanded to be borne before him, instead of a standard.” The latter part only of this passage is quoted by Mr. Steevens; but the whole considered together proves, in my apprehension, that guard means here nothing more than the men of war whose duty it was to attend on the Constable of France, and among those his standard, that is, his standard-bearer. In a preceding passage Holinshed mentions, that “the Constable of France, the Marshal, &c. and other of the French nobility, came and pitched down their standards and banners in the county of St. Paule.” Again: “Thus the French men being ordered under their standards and banners, made a great shew:”—or, as Hall has it: “Thus the French men were every man under his banner, only waiting,” &c. It appears, from both these historians, that all the princes and nobles in the French army bore banners, and of these one hundred and twenty-six were killed in this battle. In a subsequent part of the description of this memorable victory, Holinshed mentions that “Henry having felled the Duke of Alanson, the king's guard, contrary to his mind, outrageously slew him.” The Constable being the principal leader of the French army, had, without doubt, like Henry, his guard also, one of whom bore before him, as we may collect from Hall, the banner-royal of France. Malone.

Note return to page 906 5&lblank; Salisbury,] Thomas Montacute, Earl of Salisbury. Malone.

Note return to page 907 6And my kind kinsman,] This must be addressed to Westmoreland: but how was that nobleman related to Salisbury? True it is, that the latter had married one of the sisters and coheirs of Edmund Earl of Kent, and that another of them was wife to Westmoreland's eldest son. Salisbury's daughter was likewise married to a younger son of Westmoreland's, who, in her right, was afterward Earl of Salisbury, and appears in the Second and Third Parts of King Henry VI. The present speaker is Thomas Montacute, who is killed by a shot in the next play. But these connections do not seem to make him akin to Westmoreland. Ritson.

Note return to page 908 7Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury, &c.] Thus the old edition [i. e. the first folio]: “Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee; “And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, “For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour. “Exe. Farewell, kind lord: fight valiantly to-day.” What! does he do Salisbury wrong to wish him good luck? The ingenious Dr. Thirlby prescribed to me the transposition of the verses, which I have made in the text: and the old quartos plainly lead to such a regulation. Theobald. I believe this transposition to be perfectly right, for it was already made in the quartos, 1600 and 1608, as follows: “Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day, “And yet in truth I do thee wrong, “For thou art made on the true sparkes of honour.” Steevens.

Note return to page 909 8He is as full of valour, as of kindness;] So, in King Richard II.: “As full of valour, as of royal blood &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 910 9O that we now had here, &c.] From Holinshed: “It is said also, that he should heare one of the hoste utter his wishe to another, that stood next to him, in this wise: I would to God there were present here with us this day so many good souldiers as are at this hour within the realme of England; whereupon the king answered: I would not wishe a man more here than I have,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 911 1My cousin Westmoreland?] In the quartos, 1600 and 1608, this speech is addressed to Warwick. Steevens.

Note return to page 912 2By Jove,] The king prays like a christian, and swears like a heathen. Johnson. I believe the player-editors alone are answerable for this incongruity. In consequence of the Stat. 3. James 1. c. xxi. against introducing the sacred name on the stage, &c. they omitted it where they could; and in verse, (where the metre would not allow omission,) they substituted some other word in its place. Malone.

Note return to page 913 3It yearns me not,] To yearn is to grieve or vex. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “She laments for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 914 4&lblank; O, do not wish one more:] Read (for the sake of metre)—“Wish not one more.” Ritson.

Note return to page 915 5&lblank; of Crispian:] The battle of Agincourt was fought upon the 25th of October [1415], St. Crispin's day. The legend upon which this is founded, follows:—“Crispinus and Crispianus were brethren, born at Rome; from whence they travelled to Soissons, in France, about the year 303, to propagate the Christian religion; but because they would not be chargeable to others for their maintenance, they exercised the trade of shoemakers; but the governor of the town discovering them to be Christians, ordered them to be beheaded about the year 303. From which time, the shoemakers made choice of them for their tutelar saints.” Wheatley's Rational Illustration, folio edit. p. 76. See Hall's Chronicle, fol. 47. Grey.

Note return to page 916 6He, that shall live this day, and see old age,] The folio reads: “He that shall see this day and live old age.” The transposition (which is supported by the quarto) was made by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 917 7&lblank; the vigil &lblank;] i. e. the evening before this festival. Steevens.

Note return to page 918 8And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.] This line I have restored from the quarto, 1600. The preceding line appears to me abrupt and imperfect without it. Malone.

Note return to page 919 9&lblank; yet all &lblank;] I believe we should read—yea, all, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 920 1&lblank; with advantages,] Old men, notwithstanding the natural forgetfulness of age, shall remember “their feats of this day,” and remember to tell them “with advantage.” Age is commonly boastful, and inclined to magnify past acts and past times. Johnson.

Note return to page 921 2Familiar in their mouths &lblank;] i. e. in the mouths of the old man (“who has outlived the battle and come safe home,”) and “his friends.” This is the reading of the quarto, which I have preferred to that of the folio,—his mouth; because their cups, the reading of the folio in the subsequent line, would otherwise appear, if not ungrammatical, extremely aukward. The quarto reads—in their flowing bowls; and there are other considerable variations in the two copies. Malone.

Note return to page 922 3From this day to the ending &lblank;] It may be observed that we are apt to promise to ourselves a more lasting memory than the changing state of human things admits. This prediction is not verified; the feast of Crispin passes by without any mention of Agincourt. Late events obliterate the former: the civil wars have left in this nation scarcely any tradition of more ancient history. Johnson.

Note return to page 923 4&lblank; gentle his condition:] This day shall advance him to the rank of a gentleman. Johnson. King Henry V. inhibited any person but such as had a right by inheritance, or grant, to assume coats of arms, except those who fought with him at the battle of Agincourt; and, I think, these last were allowed the chief seats of honour at all feasts and publick meetings. Tollet. That Mr. Tollet is right in his account, is proved by the original writ to the Sheriff of Southampton and others, printed in Rymer's Fœdera, anno 5 Henry V. vol. ix. p. 457. And see more fully on the subject Anstis's Order of the Garter, vol. ii. p. 108, who mentions it, and observes thereon, citing Gore's Catalog. Rei Herald. Introduct. and Sandford's Geneal. Hist. p. 283. Vaillant.

Note return to page 924 5&lblank; upon Saint Crispin's day.] This speech, like many others of the declamatory kind, is too long. Had it been contracted to about half the number of lines, it might have gained force, and lost none of the sentiments. Johnson.

Note return to page 925 6&lblank; bravely &lblank;] Is splendidly, ostentatiously. Johnson. Rather—gallantly. So, in The Tempest: “Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou “Perform'd, my Ariel!” Steevens.

Note return to page 926 7&lblank; expedience &lblank;] i. e. expedition. So, in King Richard II.: “Are making hither with all due expedience.” Steevens.

Note return to page 927 8&lblank; might fight this battle out!] Thus the quarto. The folio reads: “&lblank; could fight this royal battle.” Malone.

Note return to page 928 9&lblank; thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;] By wishing only thyself and me, thou hast wished five thousand men away. Shakspeare never thinks of such trifles as numbers. In the last scene the French are said to be full threescore thousand, which Exeter declares to be five to one; but, by the king's account, they are twelve to one. Johnson. Holinshed makes the English army consist of 15,000, and the French of 60,000 horse, besides foot, &c. in all 100,000; while Walsingham and Harding represent the English as but 9000; and other authors say that the number of French amounted to 150,000. Steevens. Dr. Johnson, I apprehend, misunderstood the King's words. He supposes that Henry means to say, that Westmoreland, wishing himself and Henry alone to fight the battle out with the French, had wished away the whole English army, consisting of five thousand men. But Henry's meaning was, I conceive, very different. Westmoreland had before expressed a wish that ten thousand of those who were idle at that moment in England were added to the King's army; a wish, for which, when it was uttered, Henry, whether from policy or spirit, reprimanded him. Westmoreland now says, he should be glad that he and the King alone, without any other aid whatsoever, were to fight the battle out against the French. “Bravely said, (replies Henry,) you have now half atoned for your former timid wish for ten thousand additional troops. You have unwished half of what you wish'd before.” The King is speaking figuratively, and Dr. Johnson understood him literally.—Shakspeare therefore, though often inattentive to “such trifles as numbers,” is here not inaccurate. He undoubtedly meant to represent the English army, (according to Exeter's state of it,) as consisting of about twelve thousand men; and according to the best accounts this was nearly the number that Henry had in the field. Hardyng, who was himself at the battle of Agincourt, says that the French army consisted of one hundred thousand; but the account is probably exaggerated. Malone. Fabian says the French were 40,000, and the English only 7000. Mr. Malone, in a very elaborate note, has endeavoured to prove that Westmoreland, by wishing that he and the King alone, without more help, might fight the battle out, did not wish away the whole of the army, but 5000 men only. But I must confess that I cannot comprehend his argument, and must therefore concur with Johnson, in his observation on the poet's inattention. M. Mason.

Note return to page 929 1&lblank; mind,] i. e. remind. So, in Coriolanus: “I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 930 2A many &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quarto—“And many. Steevens.

Note return to page 931 3&lblank; in brass &lblank;] i. e. in brazen plates anciently let into tombstones. Steevens.

Note return to page 932 4Mark then a bounding valour in our English;] The old folios— “Mark then abounding &lblank;.” The quartos, more erroneously still— “Mark then aboundant &lblank;.” Mr. Pope degraded the passage in both his editions, because, I presume, he did not understand it. I have reformed the text, and the allusion is exceedingly beautiful; comparing the revival of the English valour to the rebounding of a cannon-ball. Theobald. Mr. Theobald was probably misled by the idle notion that our author's imagery must be round and corresponding on every side, and that this line was intended to be in unison with the next. This was so far from being an object of Shakspeare's attention, that he seems to delight in passing hastily from one idea to another. To support his emendation, Mr. Theobald misrepresented the reading of the quarto, which he said was aboundant. It is abundant; and proves, in my apprehension, decisively, that the reading of the folio is not formed by any accidental union of different words; for though abounding may, according to Mr. Theobald's notion, be made two words, by what analysis can abundant be separated? We have had already, in this play—“superfluous courage,” an expression of nearly the same import as—“abounding valour.” Mr. Theobald's emendation, however, has been adopted in all the modern editions. That our author's word was abundant or abounding, not a bounding, may be proved by King Richard III. where we again meet with the same epithet applied to the same subject: “To breathe the abundant valour of the heart.” Malone. The preceding note (in my opinion at least) has not proved that, though Shakspeare talks of abundant valour in King Richard III. he might not have written a bounding valour in King Henry V. Must our author indulge himself in no varieties of phraseology, but always be tied down to the use of similar expressions? Or does it follow that, because his imagery is sometimes incongruous, that it was always so? Aboundant may be separated as regularly as abounding; for boundant (like mountant in Timon of Athens, and questant in All's Well That Ends Well) might have been a word once in use. The reading stigmatized as a misrepresentation might also have been found in the quarto consulted by Mr. Theobald, though not in such copies of it as Mr. Malone and I have met with. In several quarto editions, of similar date, there are varieties which till very lately were unobserved. I have not therefore discarded Mr. Theobald's emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 933 5Killing in relapse of mortality.] What it is to kill in relapse of mortality, I do not know. I suspect that it should be read: “Killing in reliques of mortality.” That is, continuing to kill when they are the reliques that death has left behind it. That the allusion is, as Mr. Theobald thinks, exceedingly beautiful, I am afraid few readers will discover. The valour of a putrid body, that destroys by the stench, is one of the thoughts that do no great honour to the poet. Perhaps from this putrid valour Dryden might borrow the posthumous empire of Don Sebastian, who was to reign wheresoever his atoms should be scattered. Johnson. By this phrase, however uncouth, Shakspeare seems to mean the same as in the preceding line. Mortality is death. So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “&lblank; I beg mortality “Rather than life &lblank;.” Relapse may be used for rebound. Shakspeare has given mind of honour for honourable mind; and by the same rule might write relapse of mortality for fatal or mortal rebound; or by relapse of mortality, he may mean—after they had relapsed into inanimation. This putrid valour is common to the descriptions of other poets, as well as Shakspeare and Dryden, and is predicated to be no less victorious by Lucan, lib. vii. v. 821: Quid fugis hanc cladem, quid olentes deseris agros? Has trahe, Cæsar, aquas; hoc, si potes, utere cœlo, Sed tibi tabentes populi Pharsalica rura Eripiunt, camposque tenent victore fugato. Corneille has imitated this passage in the first speech in his Pompée: &lblank; de chars, Sur ses champs empestés confusément épars, Ces montagnes de morts privés d'honneurs suprêmes, Que la nature force à se venger eux-mêmes, Et de leurs troncs pourris exhale dans les vents De quoi faire la guerre au reste des vivans. Voltaire, in his Letter to the Academy of Belles Lettres, at Paris, opposes the preceding part of this speech to a quotation from Shakspeare. The Frenchman, however, very prudently stopped before he came to the lines which are here quoted. Steevens.

Note return to page 934 6&lblank; warriors for the working-day:] We are soldiers but coarsely dressed; we have not on our holiday apparel. Johnson. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.” Steevens.

Note return to page 935 7&lblank; our gilt.] i. e. golden show, superficial gilding. Obsolete. So, in Timon of Athens: “When thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume,” &c. Again, in Twelfth-Night: “The double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “And now the rain hath beaten off thy gilt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 936 8&lblank; the Duke of York.] This personage is the same who appears in our author's King Richard II. by the title of Duke of Aumerle. His christian name was Edward. He was the eldest son of Edmond of Langley, Duke of York, who is introduced in the same play, and who was the fifth son of King Edward III. Richard Earl of Cambridge, who appears in the second Act of this play, was younger brother to this Edward Duke of York. Malone.

Note return to page 937 9Quality, call you me?—Construe me,] The old copy reads —“Qualtitie calmie custure me &lblank;.” Steevens. We should read this nonsense thus: “Quality, cality—construe me, art thou a gentleman?” i. e. tell me, let me understand whether thou be'st a gentleman. Warburton. Mr. Edwards, in his MS. notes, proposes to read: “Quality, call you me? construe me,” &c. Steevens. The alteration proposed by Mr. Edwards has been too hastily adopted. Pistol, who does not understand French, imagines the prisoner to be speaking of his own quality. The line should therefore have been given thus: “Quality!—calmly; construe me, art thou a gentleman.” Ritson. The words in the folio (where alone they are found)—‘Qualitee calmie custure me,’ appeared such nonsense, that some emendation was here a matter of necessity, and accordingly that made by the joint efforts of Dr. Warburton and Mr. Edwards has been adopted in mine and the late editions. But since I have found reason to believe that the old copy is very nearly right, and that a much slighter emendation than that which has been made will suffice. In a book entitled, A Handfull of Plesant Delites, containing sundrie new Sonets,—newly devised to the newest Tunes, &c. by Clement Robinson and Others, 16mo. 1584, is “A Sonet of a Lover in the Praise of his Lady, to Calen o custure me, sung at every line's end.” “When as I view your comely grace, Calen,” &c. Pistol, therefore, we see, is only repeating the burden of an old song, and the words should be undoubtedly printed— “Quality! Calen o custure me. Art thou a gentleman,” &c. He elsewhere has quoted the old ballad beginning— “Where is the life that late I led?” With what propriety the present words are introduced, it is not necessary to inquire. Pistol is not very scrupulous in his quotations. It may also be observed, that construe me is not Shakspeare's phraseology, but—construe to me. So, in Twelfth-Night: “I will construe to them whence you come,”&c. Malone. Construe me, though not the phraseology of our author's more chastised characters, might agree sufficiently with that of Pistol. Mr. Malone's discovery is a very curious one, and when (as probably will be the case) some further ray of light is thrown on the unintelligible words—Calen, &c. I will be the first to vote them into the text. Steevens. “Callino, castore me,” is an old Irish song which is preserved in Playford's Musical Companion, 673: The words, as I learn from Mr. Finnegan, master of the school established in London for the education of the Irish poor, mean “Little girl of my heart for ever and ever.” They have, it is true, no great connection with the poor Frenchman's supplications, nor were they meant to have any. Pistol instead of attending to him, contemptuously hums a song. Boswell.

Note return to page 938 1&lblank; discuss.] This affected word is used by Lily, in his Woman in the Moon, 1597: “But first I must discuss this heavenly cloud.” Steevens.

Note return to page 939 2&lblank; signieur Dew should be a gentleman:] I cannot help thinking, that Shakspeare intended here a stroke at a passage in a famous old book, called The Gentleman's Academie in Hawking, Hunting, and Armorie, written originally by Juliana Barnes, and re-published by Gervase Markham, 1595. The first chapter of the Booke of Armorie is, “the difference 'twixt Churles and Gentlemen;” and it ends thus: “From the offspring of gentlemanly Japhet came Abraham, Moyses, Aaron, and the Prophets; and also the king of the right line of Mary, of whom that only absolute gentleman, Jesus, was borne:—gentleman, by his mother Mary, princesse of coat armor.” Farmer.

Note return to page 940 3&lblank; thou diest on point of fox,] Fox is an old cant word for a sword. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Philaster: “I made my father's old fox fly about his ears.” The same expression occurs in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “I had a sword, ay the flower of Smithfield for a sword; a right fox, i' faith.” Again, in The Life and Death of Captain Thomas Stukeley, 1605: “&lblank; old hacked swords, foxes, bilbos, and horn-buckles.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “And by this awful cross upon my blade, “And by this fox which stinks of Pagan blood.” Steevens.

Note return to page 941 4For I will fetch thy rim &lblank;] We should read: “Or, I will fetch thy ransom out of thy throat.” Warburton. I know not what to do with the rim. The measure gives reason to suppose that it stands for some monosyllable; and, besides, ransom is a word not likely to have been corrupted. Johnson. It appears from Sir Arthur Gorges's translation of Lucan, 1614, that some part of the intestines, was anciently called the rim, Lucan, book i.: “The slender rimme too weake to part “The boyling liver from the heart &lblank;.” &lblank; parvusque secat vitalia limes. L. 623. “Parvus limes (says one of the scholiasts) præcordia indicat; membrana illa quæ cor et pulmones a jecore et liene dirimit.” I believe it is now called the diaphragm in human creatures, and the skirt or midriff in beasts; but still, in some places, the rim. Phil. Holland, in his translation of Pliny's Natural History, several times mentions the rim of the paunch. See book xxviii. ch. ix. p. 321, &c. Again, in Chapman's version of the 14th Iliad: “And strook him in his belly's rimme &lblank;.” Steevens. Cole, in his Dictionary, 1678, describes it as the caul in which the bowels are wrapped, Malone. Ryno is at this day a vulgar cant expression for money;— ready ryno means ready money. This was probably the expression that Pistol meant to use; and I should suppose ryno, instead of rym, to be the true reading. M. Mason. I ought to have some kindness for this conjecture, as it has suggested itself to me more than once; and yet I fear it is what Dr. Warburton calls (in a note on Othello) a White Friars' phrase, of Alsatian origin, and consequently much more modern than the age of Shakspeare. Mr. M. Mason's idea, however, may receive countenance from a passage in Timon: “Tim. Cut my heart in sums. “Tit. Mine, fifty talents. “Tim. Tell out my blood. “Luc. Five thousand crowns, my lord. “Tim. Five thousand drops pay that.” Steevens.

Note return to page 942 5Brass, cur!] Either Shakspeare had very little knowledge in the French language, or his over-fondness for punning led him, in this place, contrary to his own judgment, into an error. Almost every one knows that the French word bras is pronounced brau; and what resemblance of sound does this bear to brass, that Pistol should reply, “Brass, cur?” The joke would appear to a reader, but could scarce be discovered in the performance of the play. Sir W. Rawlinson. If the pronunciation of the French language be not changed since Shakspeare's time, which is not unlikely, it may be suspected that some other man wrote the French scenes. Johnson. Dr. Johnson makes a doubt, whether the pronunciation of the French language may not be changed since Shakspeare's time; “if not (says he), it may be suspected that some other man wrote the French scenes;” but this does not appear to be the case, at least in this termination, from the rules of the grammarians, or the practice of the poets. I am certain of the former from the French Alphabeth of De la Mothe, and the Orthoepia Gallica of John Eliot; and of the latter from the rhymes of Marot, Ronsard, and Du Bartas. Connections of this kind were very common. Shakspeare himself assisted Ben Jonson in his Sejanus, as it was originally written; and Fletcher in his Two Noble Kinsmen. Farmer. Mr. Bowle has at least rendered doubtful the question concerning the different pronunciation of the French language. See Archæologia, vol. vi. p. 76. Douce. The word moy proves, in my apprehension, decisively, that Shakspeare, or whoever furnished him with his French, (if indeed he was assisted by any one,) was unacquainted with the true pronunciation of that language. Moy he has, in King Richard II. made a rhyme to destroy, so that it is clear that he supposed it was pronounced exactly as it is spelled, as he here supposes bras to be pronounced: “Speak it in French, king; say, pardonnez moy. “Dost thou teach pardon to destroy?” See also vol. iv. p. 419, n. 3. The word bras was, without doubt, pronounced, in the last age, by the French, and by the English who understood French, as at present, braw. So, as Dr. Farmer observes to me, in the prologue to The First Day's Entertainment at Rutland House, by Sir W. D'Avenant: “And could the walls to such a wideness draw, “That all might sit at ease in chaise à bras.” Drummond of Hawthornden tells us that Ben Jonson did not understand French. It does not, I own, therefore follow that Shakspeare was also unacquainted with that language; but I think it is highly probable that that was the case; or at least that his knowledge of it was very slight. Malone. A question having arisen concerning the pronunciation of the French word bras in the time of Shakspeare, it was observed in a former note that some remarks by the Rev. Mr. Bowle, in another place, had contributed at least to leave the matter open to discussion. That gentleman has certainly offered some evidence from Pasquier, that in the middle of words the s was pronounced where now it is silent; but on the other hand there is positive proof that the contrary practice prevailed in 1572, when De la Ramée published his French grammar. At page 19, he says: “Premierement nous sommes prodigues en lescripture de s, sans la prononcer comme en maistre, mesler, oster, soustenir.” This writer has expatiated on the difficulty which foreigners have in pronouncing the French language on account of its orthography, and offered a new mode by which it may be avoided. In the course of this specimen he has, fortunately for the present occasion, printed the word bras without the s, (see p. 61,) and thereby supplied the means of deciding the present question, which, after all, was scarcely worth a controversy. Whoever wrote this dialogue was unacquainted with the true pronunciation of the French language, as Mr. Malone has already remarked, and framed Pistol's reply accordingly. In Eliot's Orthoepia Gallica, 1593, 4to. mentioned in Dr. Farmer's note, there is a passage which seems to have escaped the doctor's notice. In page 61, the author directs the sentence “vous avez un bras de fer,” to be pronounced “voo-za-ve-zewn bra de fer.” Douce.

Note return to page 943 6&lblank; luxurious mountain goat,] Luxurious means lascivious. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “She knows the heat of a luxurious bed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 944 7&lblank; a ton of moys?] Moy is a piece of money; whence moi do'r, or moi of gold. Johnson. Dr. Johnson says that “moi is a piece of money, whence moi d'or, or moi of gold.” But where had the doctor made this discovery? His etymology of moidor is certainly incorrect. Moidore is an English corruption of the Portuguese moeda d'ouro, i. e. money of gold; but there were no moidores in the time of Shakspeare. We are therefore still to seek for Pistol's moy. Now a moyos or moy was a measure of corn; in French muy or muid, Lat. modius, a bushel. It appears that 27 moys were equal to a last or two tons. To understand this more fully, the curious reader may consult Malyne's Lex Mercatoria, 1622, p. 45, and Roberts's Marchant's Mapp of Commerce, 1638, chap. 272. Douce.

Note return to page 945 8&lblank; and firk him,] The word firk is so variously used by the old writers, that it is almost impossible to ascertain its precise meaning. On this occasion it may mean to chastise. So, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; nay, I will firk “My silly novice, as he was never firk'd “Since midwives bound his noddle.” In Beaumont and Fletcher's Rule a Wife, &c. it means to collect by low and dishonest industry: “&lblank; these five years she has firk'd “A pretty living.” Again, in Ram-Alley, &c. it seems to be employed in the sense of quibble: “Sir, leave this firk of law, or by this light,” &c. In The Alchemist, it is obscenely used. Steevens. In Eliot's Orthoepia Gallica, 1693, fouettez is rendered firk. Boswell.

Note return to page 946 9&lblank; this roaring devil i' the old play,] In modern puppet-shows, which seem to be copied from the old farces, Punch sometimes fights the devil, and always overcomes him. I suppose the vice of the old farce, to whom Punch succeeds, used to fight the devil with a wooden dagger. Johnson. In the old moralities the devil was always attacked by the Vice, who belaboured him with his lath, and sent him roaring off the stage. So, in Twelfth-Night: “In a trice, “Like to the old vice,— “Who, with dagger of lath, “In his rage and his wrath, “Cries ah! ha! to the devil.” And in the old Taming of a Shrew, one of the players says, “my lord, we must have—a little vinegar to make our devil roar.”— The reason of the Vice's endeavouring to entertain the audience, by attempting to pare the devil's nails, has been already assigned in a note on Twelfth-Night, vol. xi. p. 479, n. 1. Malone. See also a note on King Richard III. Act. III. Sc. I. and Mr. Upton's Dissertation at the end of the same play. Malone. The devil, in the old mysteries, is as turbulent and vain-glorious as Pistol. So, in one of the Coventry Whitsun Plays, preserved in the British Museum. Vespasian. D. VIII. p. 136: “I am your lord Lucifer that out of helle cam, “Prince of this world, and gret duke of helle; “Wherfore my name is clepyd ser Satan, “Whech aperyth among you a mater to spelle.” And perhaps the character was always performed in the most clamorous manner. In the ancient tragedy, or rather morality, called All for Money, by T. Lupton, 1578, Sin says: “I knew I would make him soon change his note, “I will make him sing the Black Sanctus, I hold him a groat. [Here Satan shall cry and roar.” Again, a little after: “Here he roareth and crieth.” See Taming of the Shrew, vol. v. p. 370. Steevens.

Note return to page 947 1O perdurable shame!] Perdurable is lasting, long to continue. So, in Daniel's Civil Wars, &c.: “Triumphant arcs of perdurable might.” Steevens.

Note return to page 948 2Let us die instant: Once more back again;] This verse, which is quite left out in Mr. Pope's editions, stands imperfect in the first folio. By the addition of a syllable, I think, I have retrieved the poet's sense. It is thus in the old copy: “Let us die in once more back again.” Theobald. “Let us die in fight.” For the insertion of the word fight, which (as I observed in my Second Appendix, 8vo. 1783,) appears to have been omitted by the negligence of the transcriber or compositor, I am answerable. So Bourbon says afterwards: “I'll to the throng; Let life be short.” Macbeth utters the same sentiment: “At least we'll die with harness on our backs.” Mr. Theobald corrected the text by reading instant instead of in: but (as I have already remarked) it is highly improbable that a printer should omit half a word; nor indeed does the word instant suit the context. Bourbon probably did not wish to die more than other men; but if we are conquered, (says he) if we are to die, let us bravely die in combat with our foes, and make their victory as dear to them as we can. The editor of the second folio, who always cuts a knot instead of untying it, substituted fly for die, and absurdly reads—Let us fly in; leaving the metre, which was destroyed by the omission of a word, still imperfect, and at the same time rendering the passage nonsense. The lines stand thus in the quarto, 1600: “Con. We are enough yet living in the field “To smother up the English, “If any order might be thought upon. “Bour. A plague of order! once more to the field: “And he that will not follow,” &c. Malone. I have not adopted Mr. Malone's emendation, because, when I read it, I cannot suppose myself to be reading the beginning of a verse. Instant may be an adjective used adverbially. In the course of this publication my compositors will not deny their occasional omission of several half words. Steevens.

Note return to page 949 3Like a base pander,] The quartos read: “Like a base leno.” Steevens.

Note return to page 950 4&lblank; no gentler &lblank;] Who has no more gentility. Malone.

Note return to page 951 5&lblank; is contaminate.] The quarto has—contamuracke, which corrupted word, however, is sufficient to lead us to the true reading now inserted in the text: It is also supported by the metre and the usage of our author and his contemporaries. We have had in this play “hearts create” for hearts created: so, elsewhere, combinate, for combin'd; consummate, for consummated, &c. The folio reads—contaminated. Malone.

Note return to page 952 6Unto these English, or else die with fame,] This line I have restored from the quartos, 1600 and 1608. The Constable of France is throughout the play represented as a brave and generous enemy, and therefore we should not deprive him of a resolution which agrees so well with his character. Steevens.

Note return to page 953 7Larding the plain:] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “And lards the lean earth as he walks along.” Steevens.

Note return to page 954 8&lblank; raught &lblank;] i. e. reached. See vol. iv. p. 355, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 955 9A testament of noble-ending love.] So the folio. The quarto reads: “An argument of never-ending love.” Malone.

Note return to page 956 1But all my mother came into mine eyes, And gave me up to tears.] Thus the quarto. The folio reads—And all, &c. But has here the force of—But that. Malone. This thought is apparently copied by Milton, Paradise Lost, book ix.: “&lblank; compassion quell'd “His best of man, and gave him up to tears.” Steevens. Dryden also, in All for Love, Act I. has the same expression: “Look, Emperor, this is no common dew, “I have not wept this forty years; but now “My mother comes afresh into my eyes; “I cannot help her softness.” Reed.

Note return to page 957 2With mistful eyes,] The folio—mixtful. The passage is not in the quarto. Malone. The poet must have wrote—mistful: i. e. just ready to overrun with tears. The word he took from his observation of nature: for, just before the bursting out of tears, the eyes grow dim, as if in a mist. Warburton.

Note return to page 958 3&lblank; what new alarum is this same?] The alarum on which Henry ordered the prisoners to be slain, was sounded by the affrighted runaways from his own camp, who brought intelligence that the French had got behind him, and had pillaged it. See a subsequent note. Not knowing the extent of his danger, he gave the order here mentioned, that every soldier should kill his prisoners. After Henry speaks these words, “what new alarum is this same?” Shakspeare probably intended that a messenger should enter, and secretly communicate this intelligence to him; though by some negligence no such marginal direction appears. Malone.

Note return to page 959 4Give the word through.] Here the quartos 1600 and 1608 ridiculously add: “Pist. Couper gorge.” Steevens.

Note return to page 960 5Scene VII.] Here, in the other editions, they begin the fourth Act, very absurdly, since both the place and time evidently continue, and the words of Fluellen immediately follow those of the King just before. Pope.

Note return to page 961 6Kill the poys and the luggage!] The baggage, during the battle, (as King Henry had no men to spare,) was guarded only by boys and lackeys; which some French runaways getting notice of, they came down upon the English camp-boys, whom they killed, and plundered, and burned the baggage: in resentment of which villainy it was, that the King, contrary to his wonted lenity, ordered all prisoners' throats to be cut. And to this villainy of the French runaways Fluellen is alluding, when he says, “Kill the poys and the luggage!” The fact is set out both by Hall and Holinshed. Theobald. Unhappily the King gives one reason for his order to kill the prisoners, and Gower another. The King killed his prisoners because he expected another battle, and he had not men sufficient to guard one army and fight another. Gower declares that the gallant king has worthily ordered the prisoners to be destroyed, because the luggage was plundered, and the boys were slain. Johnson. Our author has here, as in all his historical plays, followed Holinshed; in whose Chronicle both these reasons are assigned for Henry's conduct. Shakspeare therefore has not departed from history; though he has chosen to make Henry himself mention one of the reasons which actuated him, and Gower mention the other. See p. 440, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 962 7&lblank; As Alexander &lblank;] I should suspect that Shakspeare, who was well read in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch, meant these speeches of Fluellen as a ridicule on the parallels of the Greek author; in which, circumstances common to all men are assembled in opposition, and one great action is forced into comparison with another, though as totally different in themselves, as was the behaviour of Harry Monmouth, from that of Alexander the Great. Steevens.

Note return to page 963 8&lblank; the fat knight &lblank;] This is the last time that Falstaff can make sport. The poet was loath to part with him, and has continued his memory as long as he could. Johnson.

Note return to page 964 9Warwick,] Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. He did not, however, obtain that title till 1417, two years after the era of this play. Malone.

Note return to page 965 1And make them skirr away,] I meet with this in Ben Jonson's News from the Moon, a masque: “&lblank; blow him afore him as far as he can see him; or skir over him with his bat's wings,” &c. Again, in Arthur Hall's translation of the 4th Iliad, 4to. 1581: “It thee becomes with piersing girde to cause thy arrow skirre “To wound the sturdie Menelau &lblank;.” The word has already occurred in Macbeth. See vol. xi. p. 254, n. 9. Steevens.

Note return to page 966 2Besides, we'll cut the throats, &c.] The King is in a very bloody disposition. He has already cut the throats of his prisoners, and threatens now to cut them again. No haste of composition could produce such negligence; neither was this play, which is the second draught of the same design, written in haste. There must be some dislocation of the scenes. If we place these lines at the beginning of the twelfth scene, the absurdity will be removed, and the action will proceed in a regular series. This transposition might easily happen in copies written for the players. Yet it must not be concealed, that in the imperfect play of 1608 the order of the scenes is the same as here. Johnson. The difference of the two copies may be thus accounted for. The elder was, perhaps, taken down, during the representation, by the contrivance of some bookseller, who was in haste to publish it; or it might, with equal probability, have been collected from the repetitions of actors invited to a tavern for that purpose. The manner in which many of the scenes are printed, adds strength to the supposition; for in these a single line is generally divided into two, that the quantity of the play might be seemingly increased. The second and more ample edition (in the folio 1623) may be that which regularly belonged to the playhouse; and yet with equal confidence we may pronounce, that every dramatick composition would materially suffer, if only transmitted to the public through the medium of ignorance, presumption, and caprice, those common attendants on a theatre. Steevens. Johnson's long note on this passage is owing to his inattention. The prisoners whom the King had already put to death, were those which were taken in the first action; and those whom he had now in his power, and threatens to destroy, are the prisoners that were taken in the subsequent desperate charge made by Bourbon, Orleans, &c. And accordingly we find, in the next scene but one, an account of those prisoners, amounting to upwards of 1500, with Bourbon and Orleans at the head of the list. It was this second attack that compelled the King to kill the prisoners whom he had taken in the first. M. Mason. The order of the scenes is the same (as Dr. Johnson owns) in the quarto and the folio; and the supposition of a second draught is, I am persuaded, a mistake, originating from Mr. Pope, whose researches on these subjects were by no means profound. The quarto copy of this play is manifestly an imperfect transcript procured by some fraud, and not a first draught or hasty sketch of Shakspeare's. The choruses, which are wanting in it, and which must have been written in 1599, before the quarto was printed, prove this. Yet Mr. Pope asserts, that these choruses, and all the other passages not found in the quarto, were added by the author after the year 1600: With respect however to the incongruity objected to, if it be one, Holinshed, and not our poet, is answerable for it; for thus the matter is stated by him. While the battle was yet going on, about six hundred French horsemen, who were the first that had fled, hearing that the English tents were a good way distant from the army, without a sufficient guard, entered and pillaged the king's camp. “When the outcry of the lackies and boys, which ran away for fear of the Frenchmen, thus spoiling the camp, came to the king's ears, he, doubting lest his enemies should gather together again and begin a new fielde, and mistrusting further that the prisoners would either be an aide to his enemies, or very enemies to their takers indeed, if they were suffered to live, contrary to his accustomed gentleness, commanded by sounde of trumpet, that every man upon pain of death should incontinently slea his prisoners.”—Here then we have the first transaction relative to the killing of the prisoners, in consequence of the spoiling of the camp, to which Fluellen alludes in the beginning of this scene, when he complains of the French having killed the “poys and the luggage:” and we see, the order for killing the prisoners arose partly from that outrage, and partly from Henry's apprehension that his enemies might renew the battle, and that his forces “were not sufficient to guard one army, and fight another.” What follows will serve to explain the King's threat in the speech now before us, at least will show that it is not out of its place. “When (proceeds the Chronicler,) this lamentable slaughter [of the prisoners] was ended, the Englishmen disposed themselves in order of battayle, ready to abide a new fielde, and also to invade and newly set on their enemies.—Some write, that the King perceiving his enemies in one parte to assemble together, as though they meant to give a new battaile for preservation of the prisoners, sent to them a herault, commaunding them either to depart out of his sight, or else to come forward at once, and give battaile; promising herewith, that ‘if they did offer to fight agayne, not only those prisoners which his people already had taken, but also so many of them as in this new conflicte, which they thus attempted, should fall into his hands, should die the death without redemption.’” The fact was, that notwithstanding the first order concerning the prisoners, they were not all put to death, as appears from a subsequent passage, (which ascertains what our author's conception was,) and from the most authentick accounts of the battle of Agincourt. “When the King sat at his refection, he was served at his boorde of those great lords and princes that were taken in the field.” According to Fabian, the Duke of Orleans, who was among the captives, on hearing the proclamation for putting the prisoners to death, was so alarmed, that he immediately sent a message to the newly assembled French troops, who thereupon dispersed. Hardyng, who was himself at the battle of Agincourt, says, the prisoners were put to death, “save dukes and earles.” Speed, on the authority of Monstrelet, says, “King Henry, contrary to his wonted generous nature, gave present commandment that every man should kill his prisoner, which was immediately performed, certain principal men excepted;” who, as another Chronicler tells us, were tied back to back, and left unguarded. With this account corresponds that of Stowe; who tells us, that “on that night, when the King sat at his refection, he was served at his boorde of those great lords and princes that were taken in the fielde.” So also Polydore Virgil: “Postquam bonam partem captivorum occiderunt,” &c. And lastly Mr. Hume, on the authority of various ancient historians, says that Henry, on discovering that his danger was not so great as he at first apprehended from the attack on his camp, “stopped the slaughter, and was still able to save a great number.” But though this fact were not established by the testimony of so many historians, and though every one of the prisoners had been put to death, according to the original order, it was certainly policy in Henry to conceal that circumstance, and to threaten to kill them, as if they were living; for the motive that induced the French to rally was, (we are told,) to save these prisoners; and if they had been informed that they were already executed, they might have been rendered desperate; at least would have had less inducement to lay down their arms. This however is a disquisition which is not necessary to our author's vindication. He followed the Chronicle just as he found it. Malone.

Note return to page 967 3&lblank; and their wounded steeds &lblank;] The old copy reads— “And with their,” &c. the compositor's eye having probably glanced on the line beneath. Mr. Pope unnecessarily rejected both words, reading—“while their wounded steeds,” in which he was followed by the subsequent editors. Malone.

Note return to page 968 4Yerk out their armed heels &lblank;] So, in The Weakest goeth to the Wall, 1600: “Their neighing gennets, armed to the field, “Do yerk and fling, and beat the sullen ground.” Steevens.

Note return to page 969 5&lblank; Monmouth caps;] Monmouth caps were formerly much worn. From the following stanza in an old ballad of The Caps, printed in The Antidote against Melancholy, 1661, p. 31, it appears they were particularly worn by soldiers: “The soldiers that the Monmouth wear, “On castle's tops their ensigns rear. “The seaman with the thrumb doth stand “On higher parts than all the land.” Reed. “The best caps, (says Fuller, in his Worthies of Wales, p. 50,) were formerly made at Monmouth, where the Capper's chapel doth still remain.—If (he adds) at this day [1660] the phrase of “wearing a Monmouth cap” be taken in a bad acception, I hope the inhabitants of that town will endeavour to disprove the occasion thereof.” Malone.

Note return to page 970 6&lblank; great sort,] High rank. So, in the ballad of Jane Shore: “Lords and ladies of great sort.” Johnson. The quartos, 1600 and 1608, read—“his enemy may be a gentleman of worth.” Steevens. See p. 281, n. 3. The same phrase occurs afterwards in the next scene. Boswell.

Note return to page 971 7&lblank; quite from the answer of his degree.] A man of such station as is not bound to hazard his person to answer to a challenge from one of the soldier's low degree. Johnson.

Note return to page 972 8&lblank; Jack-sauce,] i. e. saucy Jack. Malone.

Note return to page 973 9&lblank; When Alençon and myself were down together,] This circumstance is not an invention of Shakspeare's. Henry was felled to the ground at the battle of Agincourt, by the Duke of Alençon, but recovered and slew two of the Duke's attendants. Afterwards Alençon was killed by the King's guard, contrary to Henry's intention, who wished to have saved him. Malone.

Note return to page 974 1&lblank; into plows,] Mr. Heath very plausibly reads—“in two plows.” Johnson. The quarto reads—“I will give treason his due presently.” We might therefore read—in due plows, i. e. in the beating that is so well his due. Fuller, in his Church History, p. 139, speaks of the task-masters of Israel, “on whose back the number of bricks wanting were only scored in blows.” Steevens. The Scotch, both in speaking and in writing, frequently use into for in. However, if it should be thought necessary to amend the text, the readiest way would be to omit a syllable, and read— in plows. Ritson.

Note return to page 975 6Give me thy glove,) It must be—“Give me my glove; for of the soldier's glove the King had not the fellow. Johnson. “Give me my glove,” cannot be right, for the King had not yet acknowledged the glove to be his. M. Mason. The text is certainly right. By “thy glove,” the King means —the glove that thou hast now in thy cap; i. e. Henry's glove, which he had given to Williams, (see Act IV. Sc. I.) and of which he had retained the fellow, So, in Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. III. the Nurse says to Juliet: “&lblank; were I not thine only nurse, “I'd say, thou had'st suck'd wisdom from thy teat.” i. e. the nurse's teat. Malone.

Note return to page 976 3&lblank; your shoes is not so goot:] In the most minute particulars we find Shakspeare as observant as in matters of the highest moment. Shoes are, above any other article of dress, an object of attention to the common soldier, and most liable to be worn out. Malone.

Note return to page 977 4Now, herald; are the dead number'd?] I have little doubt but that this defective line was originally written as follows: “Now, herald, are the dead on both sides number'd?” Steevens.

Note return to page 978 5Charles duke of Orleans, &c.] This list is copied from Hall. Pope. It is taken from Holinshed. Malone.

Note return to page 979 6Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:] In ancient times, the distribution of this honour appears to have been customary, on the eve of a battle. So, in Lawrence Minot's 6th Poem on the Successes of King Edward III. p. 28: “Knightes war thar wele two score,   “That war new dubbed to that dance &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 980 7&lblank; sixteen hundred mercenaries;] Mercenaries are in this place common soldiers, or hired soldiers. The gentlemen served at their own charge in consequence of their tenures. Johnson. I doubt the accuracy of Dr. Johnson's assertion, that “the gentlemen served at their own charge in consequence of their tenures;” as, I take it, this practice, which was always confined to those holding by knights' service, and to the term of forty days, had fallen into complete disuse long before Henry the Fifth's time; and personal service would not, at that period, have excused the subsidies which were paid in lieu of it. Even the nobility were, for the most part, retained by contract to serve, with the numbers, for the time, and at the wages, specified in the indenture. Ritson.

Note return to page 981 8Charles De-la-bret,] De-la-bret, as is already observed, should be Charles D'Albret, would the measure permit of such a change. Holinshed sometimes apologizes for the omission of foreign names, on account of his inability to spell them, but always calls this nobleman “the lord de la Breth, constable of France.” See p. 356, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 982 9Edward the Duke of York,] This, and the two following lines, in the quartos, are given to Exeter. Steevens.

Note return to page 983 1&lblank; Davy Gam, esquire:] This gentleman being sent by Henry, before the battle, to reconnoitre the enemy, and to find out their strength, made this report: “May it please you, my liege, there are enough to be killed, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to run away.” He saved the king's life in the field. Had our poet been apprized of this circumstance, this brave Welshman would probably have been more particularly noticed, and not have been merely registered in a muster-roll of names. Malone. See Drayton's Battaile of Agincourt, edit. 1627, pp. 50 and 54: and a note on Mr. Dunster's excellent edition of Philips's Cider, p. 74. Steevens.

Note return to page 984 2Do we all holy rites;] The King (say the Chronicles) caused the psalm, In exitu Israel de Ægypto (in which, according to the vulgate, is included the psalm, Non nobis, Domine, &c.) to be sung after the victory. Pope. “The king (says Holinshed) when he saw no appearance of enemies, caused the retreat to be blowen, and gathering his army together, gave thanks to Almighty God for so happy a victory, causing his prelates and chapeleins to sing this psalme, In exitu Israel de Egypto; and commaunding every man to kneele downe, on the grounde at this verse—Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam: which done, he caused Te Deum and certain anthems to be sung, giving laud and praise to God, and not boasting of his owne force, or any humaine power.” Malone.

Note return to page 985 3&lblank; grant him there; there seen,] If Toward be not abbreviated, our author, with his accustomed licence, uses one of these words as a dissyllable, while to the other he assigns only its due length. See vol. v. p. 79, n. 5. Malone. I suspect the omission of some word or words essential to the metre. Our poet might have written: “Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen a while, “Heave him away,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 986 4&lblank; with wives,] With, which is wanting in the old copy, was supplied by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 987 5&lblank; a mighty whiffler &lblank;] An officer who walks first in processions, or before persons in high stations, on occasions of ceremony. The name is still retained in London, and there is an officer so called that walks before their companies at times of publick solemnity. It seems a corruption from the French word huissier. Hanmer. See Mr. T. Warton's note to the tragedy of Othello, Act III. Sc. II. In the play of Clyomon, Knight of the Golden Shield, &c. 1599, a whiffler makes his appearance at a tournament, clearing the way before the King. In Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1697, the term is often mentioned. Again, in Monsieur D'Olive, 1606: “I can go into no corner, but I meet with some of my whifflers in their accoutrements; you may hear them half a mile ere they come at you.” “&lblank; I am afraid of nothing but that I shall be balladed, I and all my whifflers.” Again, in Westward Hoe, 1607: “The torchmen and whifflers had an item to receive him.” Again, in &grT;&grE;&grX;&grN;&grO;&grG;&grA;&grM;&grI;&grA;, 1618: “Tobacco is a whiffler, “And cries huff snuff with furie:   “His pipe's his club and linke,” &c. Again, in The Isle of Gulls, 1606: “And Manasses shall go before like a whiffler, and make way with his horns.” Steevens. A more correct explanation of this word may be found in Mr. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 506; but it is too long for insertion here. Boswell.

Note return to page 988 6&lblank; to have borne, &c.] The construction is, to have his bruised helmet, &c. borne before him through the city: i. e. to order it to be borne. This circumstance also our author found in Holinshed. Malone.

Note return to page 989 7Giving full trophy,] Transferring all the honours of conquest, all, trophies, tokens, and shows, from himself to God. Johnson.

Note return to page 990 8&lblank; likelihood,] Likelihood for similitude. Warburton. The later editors, in hope of mending the measure of this line, have injured the sense. The folio reads as I have printed; but all the books, since revisal became fashionable, and editors have been more diligent to display themselves than to illustrate their author, have given the line thus: “As by a low, but loving likelihood.” Thus they have destroyed the praise which the poet designed for Essex; for who would think himself honoured by the epithet low? The poet, desirous to celebrate that great man, whose popularity was then his boast, and afterwards his destruction, compares him to King Harry; but being afraid to offend the rival courtiers, or perhaps the Queen herself, he confesses that he is lower than a King, but would never have represented him absolutely as low. Johnson. Mr. Pope made this improper alteration; as well as a thousand others equally reprehensible. Our author had the best grounds for supposing that Lord Essex, on his return from Ireland, would be attended with a numerous concourse of well-wishers; for, on his setting out for that country in the spring of the year in which this play was written, “he took horse (says the Continuator of Stowe's Chronicle) in Seeding lane, and from thence being accompanied with diverse noblemen and many others, himselfe very plainly attired, roade through Grace-church street, Cornhill, Cheapside, and other high streets, in all which places and in the fields, the people pressed exceedingly to behold him, especially in the high way for more than foure miles space, crying, and saying, God blesse your Lordship, God preserve your honour, &c. and some followed him till the evening, only to behold him.”— “Such and so great (adds the same writer) was the hearty love and deep affection of the people towards him, by reason of his bounty, liberalitie, affabilitie, and mild behaviour, that as well schollars, souldiers, citizens, saylers, &c. protestants, papists, sectaries and atheists, yea women and children which never saw him, that it was held in them a happiness to follow the worst of his fortunes.” That such a man should have fallen a sacrifice to the caprice of a fantastick woman, and the machinations of the detestable Cecil, must ever be lamented. His return from Ireland, however, was very different from what our poet predicted. See a curious account of it in the Sydney Papers, vol. ii. p. 127. Malone.

Note return to page 991 9&lblank; the general of our gracious empress &lblank;] The Earl of Essex, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Pope. Few noblemen of his age were more courted by poets. From Spenser, to the lowest rhymer, he was the subject of numerous sonnets or popular ballads. I will not except Sydney. I could produce evidence to prove that he scarce ever went out of England, or left London, on the most frivolous enterprize, without a pastoral in his praise, or a panegyrick in metre, which were sold or sung in the streets. T. Warton. To such compliments as are here bestowed by our author on the earl of Essex, Barnabie Riche, in his Souldier's Wishe to Britons Welfare, or Captain Skill and Captain Pill, 1604, p. 21, seems to allude: “&lblank; not so much as a memorandum for the most honourable enterprizes, how worthily so ever performed, unless perhaps a little commendation in a ballad, or if a man be favoured by a playmaker, he may sometimes be canonized on a stage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 992 1Bringing rebellion broached &lblank;] Spitted, transfixed. Johnson.

Note return to page 993 2The emperor's coming &lblank;] The emperor Sigismond, who was married to Henry's second cousin. If the text be right, I suppose the meaning is—The emperor is coming, &c. but I suspect some corruption, for the Chorus speaks of the emperor's visit as now past. I believe a line has been lost before “The emperor's,” &c.—If we transpose the words and omit, we have a very unmetrical line, but better sense. “Omit the emperor's coming, —and all the occurrences which happened till Harry's return to France.” Perhaps this was the author's meaning, even as the words stand. If so, the mark of parenthesis should be placed after the word home, and a comma after them. Malone. The embarrassment of this passage will be entirely removed by a very slight alteration, the omission of a single letter, and reading— “The emperor coming in behalf of France,” Instead of—emperor's. M. Mason. Mr. Capell proposes the following insertion: “To order peace between them: But these now “We pass in silence over; and omit,” &c. Boswell.

Note return to page 994 3Scene I.] This scene ought, in my opinion, to conclude the fourth Act, and be placed before the last Chorus. There is no English camp in this Act; the quarrel apparently happened before the return of the army to England, and not after so long an interval as the Chorus has supplied. Johnson. Fluellen presently says, that he wore his leek in consequence of an affront he had received but the day before from Pistol. Their present quarrel has therefore no reference to that begun in the sixth scene of the third Act. Steevens.

Note return to page 995 4To have me fold up, &c.] Dost thou desire to have me put thee to death? Johnson.

Note return to page 996 5&lblank; squire of low degree.] That is, “I will bring thee to the ground.” Johnson. “The Squire of Low Degree” is the title of an old romance, enumerated, among other books, in A Letter concerning Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment at Kenelworth. Steevens. This metrical romance, which was very popular among our countrymen in ancient times, was burlesqued by Chaucer, in his rhyme of Sir Thopas, and begins thus: “It was a squyre of lowe degre, “That loved the king's daughter of Hungré.” See Reliques of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 30, 2d edition. Percy.

Note return to page 997 6&lblank; astonished him.] That is, you have stunned him with the blow. Johnson. Rather, you have confounded him. M. Mason. Dr. Johnson's explanation is the true one. So, in the second book of The Destruction of Troy: “Theseus smote again upon his enemy, which, &c.—and struck Theseus so fiercely with his sword—that he was astonished with the stroke.” Steevens.

Note return to page 998 7I eat, and eke I swear &lblank;] The first folio has eat, for which the later editors have put—“I eat and swear.” We should read, I suppose, in the frigid tumour of Pistol's dialect: “I eat, and eke I swear.” Johnson. Thus also Pistol, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “And I to Ford shall eke unfold &lblank;.” Steevens. Perhaps—“I eat, and eating swear.” Holt White.

Note return to page 999 8&lblank; gleeking &lblank;] i. e. scoffing, sneering. Gleek was a game at cards. So, in Greene's Tu Quoque, 1614: “Why gleek, that's your only game &lblank;.”—“Gleek let it be; for I am persuaded I shall gleek some of you.” Again, in Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1661: “&lblank; I suddenly gleek, or men be aware.” Steevens. See vol. v. p. 253, n. 8. Boswell.

Note return to page 1000 9&lblank; English condition.] Condition is temper, disposition of mind. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; if he have the condition of a saint, with the complexion of a devil.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1001 1Doth fortune play the huswife &lblank;] That is, the jilt. Huswife is here used in an ill sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 1002 2News have, I that my Nell is dead, &c.] Old copy—Doll. Steevens. We must read—“my Nell is dead.” In a former scene Pistol says: “Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.” Malone. Doll Tearsheet was so little the favourite of Pistol, that he offered her in contempt to Nym. Nor would her death have “cut off his rendezvous,” that is, ‘deprived him of a home.’ Perhaps the poet forgot his plan. In the quartos 1600 and 1608 the lines are read thus: “Doth fortune playe the huswyfe with me now? “Is honour cudgel'd from my warlike lines [loins]? “Well, France farewell. News have I certainly “That Doll is sick one [on] mallydie of France. “The warres affordeth nought; home will I trug, “Bawd will I turne, and use the slyte of hand; “To England will I steal, and there I'll steal; “And patches will I get unto these skarres, “And I swear I gat them in the Gallia wars.” Johnson.

Note return to page 1003 3[Exit.] The comick scenes of The History of Henry the Fourth and Fifth are now at an end, and all the comick personages are now dismissed. Falstaff and Mrs. Quickly are dead; Nym and Bardolph are hanged; Gadshill was lost immediately after the robbery; Poins and Peto have vanished since, one knows not how; and Pistol is now beaten into obscurity. I believe every reader regrets their departure. Johnson.

Note return to page 1004 4Troyes in Champagne.] Henry, some time before his marriage with Katharine, accompanied by his brothers, uncles, &c. had a conference with her, the French King and Queen, the Duke of Burgundy, &c. in a field near Melun, where two pavilions were erected for the royal families, and a third between them for the council to assemble in and deliberate on the articles of peace. “The Frenchmen, (says the Chronicle,) ditched, trenched, and paled their lodgings for fear of after-clappes; but the Englishmen had their parte of the field only barred and parted.” But the treaty was then broken off. Some time afterwards they again met in St. Peter's church at Troyes in Champagne, where Katharine was affianced to Henry, and the articles of peace between France and England finally concluded.—Shakspeare, having mentioned, in the course of this scene, “a bar and royal interview,” seems to have had the former place of meeting in his thoughts; the description of the field near Melun, in the Chronicle, somewhat corresponding to that of a bar or barriers. But the place of the present scene is certainly Troyes in Champagne. However, as St. Peter's Church would not admit of the French King and Queen, &c. retiring, and then appearing again on the scene, I have supposed, with the former editors, the interview to take place in a palace. Malone.

Note return to page 1005 5Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!] Peace, for which we are here met, be to this meeting. Here, after the chorus, the fifth Act seems naturally to begin. Johnson.

Note return to page 1006 6The fatal balls of murdering basilisks:] So, in The Winter's Tale: “Make me not sighted like the basilisk.” It was anciently supposed that this serpent could destroy the object of its vengeance by merely looking at it. See Henry VI. Part II. Act III. Sc. II. Steevens. A basilisk was also a great gun. See Johnson's Dict. in voce. Boswell.

Note return to page 1007 7Unto this bar &lblank;] To this barrier; to this place of congress. Johnson.

Note return to page 1008 8Unpruned dies:] We must read, lies; for neglect of pruning does not kill the vine, but causes it to ramify immoderately, and grow wild; by which the requisite nourishment is withdrawn from its fruit. Warburton. This emendation is physically right, but poetically the vine may be well enough said to die, which ceases to bear fruit. Johnson.

Note return to page 1009 9&lblank; her hedges even-pleached, &lblank; Like prisoners wildly over-grown with hair, &c.] This image of prisoners is oddly introduced. A “hedge even-pleached” is more properly imprisoned than when it luxuriates in unpruned exuberance. Johnson. Johnson's criticism on this passage has no just foundation. The King compares the disorderly shoots of an unclipped hedge, to the hair and beard of a prisoner, which he has neglected to trim; a neglect natural to a person who lives alone, and in a dejected state of mind. M. Mason. The learned commentator [Dr. Johnson] misapprehended, I believe, our author's sentiment. Hedges are pleached, that is, their long branches being cut off, are twisted and woven through the lower part of the hedge, in order to thicken and strengthen the fence. The following year, when the hedge shoots out, it is customary, in many places, to clip the shoots, so as to render them even. The Duke of Burgundy, therefore, among other instances of the neglect of husbandry, mentions this; that the hedges, which were even-pleached, for want of trimming, put forth irregular twigs; like prisoners, who in their confinement have neglected the use of the razor, and in consequence are wildly overgrown with hair. The hedge, in its cultivated state, when it is even-pleached, is compared to the prisoner: in its “wild exuberance,” it resembles the prisoner “overgrown with hair.” As a hedge, however, that is even-pleached or woven together, and one that is clipt, are alike reduced to an even surface, our author, with his usual licence, might have meant only by even-pleached, “our hedges which were heretofore clipp'd smooth and even.” The line “Like prisoners,” &c. it should be observed, relates to the one which follows, and not to that which precedes it. The construction is, ‘Her even-pleached hedges put forth disordered twigs, resembling persons in prison, whose faces are from neglect over-grown with hair.’ Malone.

Note return to page 1010 1&lblank; coulter &lblank;] The ploughshare. See Johnson's Dict. in voce. Reed.

Note return to page 1011 2&lblank; deracinate &lblank;] To deracinate is to force up by the roots. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; rend and deracinate “The unity,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1012 3&lblank; all &lblank;] Old copy, unmetrically—withall. Steevens.

Note return to page 1013 4And as our vineyards,] The old copy reads—And all our vineyards. The emendation was made by Mr. Roderick. Malone.

Note return to page 1014 5Defective in their natures,] Nature had been changed by some of the editors into nurture; but, as Mr. Upton observes, unnecessarily. “Sua deficiuntur natura.” They were not defective in their crescive nature, for they grew to wildness; but they were defective in their proper and favourable nature, which was to bring forth food for man. Steevens.

Note return to page 1015 6&lblank; diffus'd attire,] Diffus'd, for extravagant. The military habit of those times was extremely so. Act III. Gower says, “And what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid suit of the camp, will do amongst, &c. is wonderful to be thought on.” Warburton. Diffus'd is so much used by our author for wild, irregular, and strange, that in The Merry Wives of Windsor, he applies it to a song supposed to be sung by fairies. Johnson. So, in King Lear, vol. x. p. 48, n. 2: “If that as well I other accents borrow, “That can my speech diffuse &lblank;.” See note on this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 1016 7&lblank; former favour,] Former appearance. Johnson. So, in Othello: “&lblank; nor should I know him, “Were he in favour as in humour alter'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1017 8&lblank; we will, suddenly, Pass our accept, and peremptory answer.] As the French King desires more time to consider deliberately of the articles, 'tis odd and absurd for him to say absolutely, that he would accept them all. He certainly must mean, that he would at once wave and decline what he disliked, and consign to such as he approved of. Our author uses pass in this manner in other places; as in King John: “But if you fondly pass our proffer'd love.” Warburton. The objection is founded, I apprehend, on a misconception of the word accept, which does not, I think, import that he would accept them all, but means acceptation. We will immediately, says he, deliver our acceptation of these articles,—the opinion which we shall form upon them, and our peremptory answer to each particular. Fuller, in his Worthies, 1660, uses acceptation for acceptation. See Sc. VII. of the preceding Act, p. 445, n. 5. If any change were to be made, I would rather read,—“Pass or except,” &c. i. e. agree to, or except against the articles, as I should either approve or dislike them. So, in a subsequent part of this scene: “Nor this I have not, brother, so denied, “But your request shall make me let it pass.” Malone. “Pass our accept, and peremptory answer.” i. e. we will pass our acceptance of what we approve, and we will pass a peremptory answer to the rest. Politeness might forbid his saying, we will pass a denial, but his own dignity required more time for deliberation. Besides, if we read pass or accept, is not peremptory answer superfluous, and plainly implied in the former words? Tollet.

Note return to page 1018 9And brother Clarence,] Neither Clarence nor Huntington, whom the King here addresses, has been enumerated in the Dramatis Personæ, as neither of them speaks a word. Huntington was John Holland, Earl of Huntington, who afterwards married the widow of Edmond Mortimer, Earl of March. Malone.

Note return to page 1019 1Fair Katharine, and most fair!] Shakspeare might have taken the hint for this scene from the anonymous play of Henry V. so often quoted, where the King begins with greater bluntness, and with an exordium most truly English: “How now, fair lady Katharine of France! “What news?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1020 2&lblank; dat is de princess.] Surely this should be—“Dat says de princess.” This is in answer to the King, who asks, “What says she, fair one?” M. Mason. I believe the old reading is the true one. By—“dat is the princess,” the lady, in her broken English, means—‘that is what the princess has said.’ Perhaps, the speaker was desirous to exempt herself from suspicion of concurrence in a general censure on the sincerity of mankind. Steevens.

Note return to page 1021 3&lblank; such a plain king,] I know not why Shakspeare now gives the king nearly such a character as he made him formerly ridicule in Percy. This military grossness and unskilfulness in all the softer arts does not suit very well with the gaieties of his youth, with the general knowledge ascribed to him at his accession, or with the contemptuous message sent him by the Dauphin, who represents him as fitter for a ball-room than the field, and tells him that he is not to revel into duchies, or win provinces with a nimble galliard. The truth is, that the poet's matter failed him in the fifth Act, and he was glad to fill it up with whatever he could get; and not even Shakspeare can write well without a proper subject. It is a vain endeavour for the most skilful hand to cultivate barrenness, or to paint upon vacuity. Johnson. Our author, I believe, was led imperceptibly by the old play to give this representation of Henry, and meant probably, in this speech at least, not to oppose the soldier to the lover, but the plain, honest Englishman, to the less sincere and more talkative Frenchman. In the old King Henry V. quarto, 1598, the corresponding speech stands thus: “Hen. Tush Kate, but tell me in plain terms, “Canst thou love the king of England? “I cannot do as these countries [perhaps counties, i. e. noblemen] do, “That spend half their time in wooing: “Tush, wench, I am none such; “But wilt thou go over to England?” The subsequent speech, however, “Marry, if you would put me to verses,” &c. fully justifies Dr. Johnson's observation. Malone.

Note return to page 1022 4&lblank; and so clap hands, and a bargain:] See vol. xiv. p. 246, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 1023 5&lblank; no strength in measure,] i. e. in dancing. So, in As You Like It: “I am for other than for dancing measures.” The word measure, signifying a stately dance so called, occurs in Much Ado About Nothing, King Henry VIII. and other plays of our author. Steevens.

Note return to page 1024 6&lblank; look greenly,] i. e. like a young lover, aukwardly. The same adverb occurs in Hamlet: “&lblank; and we have done but greenly, “In hugger-mugger to inter him &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1025 7I speak to thee plain soldier:] Similar phraseology has already occurred in King John, vol. xv. p. 251: “He speaks plain cannon, fire, and bounce, and smoke.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1026 8&lblank; take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy;] i. e. A constancy in the ingot, that hath suffered no alloy, as all coined metal has. Warburton. I believe this explanation to be more ingenious than true; to coin is to stamp and to counterfeit. He uses it in both senses; uncoined constancy signifies real and true constancy, unrefined and unadorned. Johnson. “Uncoined constancy,” resembling a plain piece of metal that has not yet received any impression. Katharine was the first woman that Henry had ever loved. A. C.

Note return to page 1027 9&lblank; fall;] i. e. shrink, fall away. Steevens.

Note return to page 1028 1Is it possible dat I should love de enemy of France?] So, in the anonymous play of The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth: “Kate. How should I love thee which is my father's enemie?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1029 2&lblank; with scambling,] i. e. scrambling. See Dr. Percy's note in the first scene of this play, p. 259, n. 9; and vol. vii. p. 134, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 1030 3&lblank; go to Constantinople,] Shakspeare has here committed an anachronism. The Turks were not possessed of Constantinople before the year 1453, when Henry V. had been dead thirty-one years. Theobald.

Note return to page 1031 4&lblank; untempering effect &lblank;] Certainly untempting. Warburton. Untempering I believe to have been the poet's word. The sense is, I conceive, ‘that you love me, notwithstanding my face has no power to temper,’ i. e. soften you to my purpose: “&lblank; nature made you “To temper man &lblank;.” Otway. So again, in Titus Andronicus, which may, at least, be quoted as the work of an author contemporary with Shakspeare: “And temper him with all the art I have.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “I have him already tempering between my thumb and finger &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1032 5&lblank; weak list &lblank;] i. e. slight barrier. So, in Othello: “Confine yourself within a patient list.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1033 6&lblank; your lips, &lblank; should sooner persuade Harry of England, than a general petition of monarchs.] So, in the old anonymous Henry V.: “Tell thy father from me, that none in the world should sooner have persuaded me,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1034 7&lblank; my condition is not smooth:] Condition is temper. So, in King Henry IV. Part I. Act I. Sc. III.: “&lblank; my condition, “Which has been smooth as oil,” &c. See vol. xvi. p. 208, n. 7. Steevens.

Note return to page 1035 8Pardon the frankness of my mirth,] We have here but a mean dialogue for princes; the merriment is very gross, and the sentiments are very worthless. Johnson.

Note return to page 1036 9This moral &lblank;] That is, the application of this fable. The moral being the application of a fable, our author calls any application a moral. Johnson. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in this Benedictus?” See vol. vii. p. 100, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 1037 1&lblank; you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid;] So, in Twelfth-Night, Act V. Sc. I.: “A natural perspective, that is, and is not.” See Mr. Tollet's note on this passage, vol. xi. p. 495, n. 7. Steevens.

Note return to page 1038 2&lblank; they are all girdled with maiden walls, &c.] We have again the same allusion in The Rape of Lucrece: “This moves in him more rage, and lesser pity, “To make the breach, and enter this sweet city.” Again, in his Lover's Complaint: “And long upon these terms I held my city, “Till thus he 'gan to siege me.” Malone.

Note return to page 1039 3&lblank; and then, in sequel, all,] Then, which is not in the old copy, was supplied, for the sake of the metre, by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 1040 4&lblank; Notre tres cher filz &lblank; and thus in Latin,—Præclarissimus filius &lblank;] What, is tres cher, in French, Præclarissimus in Latin? We should read—præcarissimus. Warburton. “This is exceeding true,” says Dr. Farmer, “but how came the blunder? It is a typographical one in Holinshed, which Shakspeare copied; but must indisputably have been corrected, had he been acquainted with the languages.” Steevens. In all the old historians that I have seen, as well as in Holinshed, I find this mistake; but in the preamble of the original treaty of Troyes, Henry is styled Præcarissimus; and in the 22d article the stipulation is, that he shall always be called, “in lingua Gallicana notre tres cher fils, &c. in lingua vero Latina hoc modo, noster præcarissimus filius Henricus,” &c. See Rymer's Fœd. ix. 893. Malone.

Note return to page 1041 5&lblank; the paction of these kingdoms,] The old folios have it— the pation, which makes me believe the author's word was paction; a word more proper on the occasion of a peace struck up. A passion of two kingdoms for one another is an odd expression. An amity and political harmony may be fixed betwixt two countries, and yet either people be far from having a passion for the other. Theobald.

Note return to page 1042 6Prepare we, &c.] The quartos, 1600 and 1608, conclude with the following speech: “Hen. Why then fair Katharine, “Come, give me thy hand: “Our marriage will we present solemnize, “And end our hatred by a bond of love. “Then will I swear to Kate, and Kate to me, “And may our vows once made, unbroken be.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1043 7Our bending author &lblank;] By bending, our author meant unequal to the weight of his subject, and bending beneath it; or he may mean, as in Hamlet: “Here stooping to your clemency.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1044 8Mangling by starts &lblank;] By touching only on select parts. Johnson.

Note return to page 1045 9the world's best garden &lblank;] i. e. France. A similar distinction is bestowed, in The Taming of the Shrew, on Lombardy: “The pleasant garden of great Italy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1046 1This play has many scenes of high dignity, and many of easy merriment. The character of the King is well supported, except in his courtship, where he has neither the vivacity of Hal, nor the grandeur of Henry. The humour of Pistol is very happily continued: his character has perhaps been the model of all the bullies that have yet appeared on the English stage. The lines given to the Chorus have many admirers; but the truth is, that in them a little may be praised, and much must be forgiven; nor can it be easily discovered why the intelligence given by the Chorus is more necessary in this play than in many others where it is omitted. The great defect of this play is the emptiness and narrowness of the last Act, which a very little diligence might have easily avoided. Johnson. The variations between the quarto and folio copies of this play are numerous and extensive; but, as Johnson has observed, it would be tedious to mention them, and tedious without much use. The earliest editions are evidently corrupted and imperfect, and bear no marks of being the author's first conceptions, which I have supposed may have been the case with the first copy of Romeo and Juliet, where I have for that reason exhibited the alterations in detail. Yet, as a few verbal differences have been pointed out by my predecessors, I have made a small addition to their number, where it might be questionable which reading deserved a preference. Boswell.

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