Bardolph.
Bar.
Sir John, here is the hobbling friar again, that
has been so often to ask after you. Shall we say
you are at home?
Fal.
Ay, let him in. What can the gouty precisian
want with me?
[Enter Friar.
Friar.
Peace be with you. Sir John, God save ye.
Fal.
Thank thee good father. What is your reverence's
will?
Fri.
I think thou dost not know me, Sir John. It is
indeed many years since our personal intimacy: your way
of life and mine—
Fal.
Were something different, father, to be sure:
and tho' I may have seen you before, it is so long since I
have been at shrift, that I must crave your pardon if I have
totally forgot ye. And yet your reverence may be my
ghostly father, for ought I know.
Fri.
Fie, fie, Sir John, a man of your age and gravity.
Fal.
Hoh! if your business be to chide me, I shut
mine ears.
Fri.
If you will not admit your wound to be prob'd;
how can you expect to be cur'd, Sir John?
-- 50 --
Fal.
Cur'd! 'sblood, I took thee for a priest, and I find
thou art a surgeon.
Fri.
A spiritual one, Sir John; and such as your disorder
requires.
Fal.
Dost thou know my case then? A spiritual surgeon
sayst thou? I am not given over by the surgeons bodily
yet. Who call in the divine till they have sent out
the doctor?
Fri.
I know your case well, Sir John. It is perhaps
less your body than your mind that is infected.
Fal.
Nay, like enough. I have indeed been damnably
dispirited ever since the king's coronation. A confounded
melancholy hangs upon me like a quotidian ague.
Fri.
It is that melancholy, and the cause of it, Sir
John, I would remove.
Fal.
And how wouldst thou remove it? By providing
me with a charge of horse, and restoring me to the king's
favour. I know no other way.
Fri.
By inducing thee to repent, and be restor'd to the
favour of the King of kings; which thou hast forfeited by
a dissolute and abandoned life. Dost thou not think thou
art in a state of reprobation?
Fal.
Pray, friar, by what authority dost thou take
upon thee to catechise me? Dost thou come out of mere
charity, or art thou employ'd by thy superiors?
Fri.
Suppose the former, Sir John.
Fal.
Suppose the former, father friar, why then the
devil is so strong in me, that I should be tempted to throw
thee headlong down stairs for thy charitable impertinence.
Fri.
Thy ill-manners, Sir John, would be inexcusable,
were it not to be supposed the consequence of an habitual
antipathy to ev'ry thing that is good. But, I will not lay
claim to greater merit than is my due. I am come by
order of my Lord-chief-justice; who is so much your friend
as to interest himself in your reformation.
Fal.
My Lord-chief-justice! that's another matter. I
cry thee mercy, reverend father. I find thou'rt not the
man I took thee for. Your reverence does me honour;
and I profess I am much indebted to his lordship's kind
love and regard to my soul's health.
Fri.
You'll hear me then, Sir John.
-- 51 --
Fal.
Yea, heav'n forbid I should not—what I said was
meant against those officious zealots, who are so forward
to pry into mens consciences that will not bear the looking
into.
Fri.
Sir John, we know your failings; and shall not
put you to the trouble of auricular confession at present.
Fal.
There, friar, thou win'st my heart. Come sit
thee down. Wilt drink a glass of sack?
Fri.
I never do, Sir John.
Fal.
I cry thee mercy, then. Here is to your reverence's
health; and now, I'll tell thee what,—I do protest
I sit me now upon the stool of repentance, and have been
honestly deliberating, some time past, to change my course
of life. I am heartily tir'd of it. Indeed, I am, good father.
Fri.
I am glad to find thee in such promising dispositions,
and think thou couldst not do better than to betake
thyself, agreeable to his lordship's intentions, to some monastery,
where thou wilt be secluded from temptations,
and have all spiritual assistance to encourage thee to mortify
the desires of the flesh.
Fal.
Hold thee there, good father. Let me understand
thee. What! would his lordship make a monk of
me? I must there beg his pardon. A monk; and to
mortify the flesh! For heav'ns sake, good father, consider
what a mortification indeed that must be to me, who have
six times the quantity of any other man. If I must be included
within the pale of the church, why not make a
canon of me (not indeed a minor canon) but a prebendary,
or a bishop, now. Something might be said for either of
these. But for a monk! I know not any thing I am less
fit for; unless indeed his lordship had meant to make a
running footman of me.
Fri.
Nay, Sir John, his lordship will not use compulsion
in this. He will not so far lay a restraint on your inclinations.
Fal.
O, if I ever find myself that way inclin'd; his
lordship may depend on it I shall be as ready as ever to
follow my inclinations. But the lesson of lean and sallow
abstinence is very long and hard, good father; I am not
gotten half-way through the first chapter yet.
-- 52 --
Fri.
Some steps, however, Sir John, you must take,
toward a more reputable way of life; and that speedily
too: otherwise you will be stript of the honours of knighthood;
and the king's sentence of banishment will be
strictly put into execution against you.
Fal.
As to the matter of knighthood; once a knight
and always a knight, you know. The king may make
as many knights as he pleases; but he will not so easily
unmake them again. My title will not depend on the
king's courtesy, but on that of my followers. I am, notwithstanding,
very desirous to give his lordship satisfaction:
and do assure thee, on the honour of a soldier, of
the sincerity of my repentance.
Fri.
And yet this may be only a transitory penitence,
owing to your late disappointment. What reason canst
thou give me to hope this state of mind will continue?
Fal.
Why, father, what I am shortly going to do is an
act, that has confin'd many a man to a state of repentance,
which hath continued to the last hour of his life.
Fri.
This, Sir John, is saying something. Pray what
are you going to do?
Fal.
I have taken a resolution, father, to—What
dost thou think now it is I have resolv'd upon?
Fri.
Some commendable act of penance, no doubt.
Fal.
Nay, it may well be call'd so, I believe. I am
determin'd, good father, to marry.
Fri.
Call you that an act of penance, Sir John? Is
marriage a state of mortification?
Fal.
I wish I may not find it so.
Fri.
Well, Sir John, marriage is a holy state; and in
some degree I approve your resolution; but, in the estimation
of the church, it is also an holy act, and ought not
to be enter'd into unadvisedly. Your repentance should
preceed your receiving the benefit of that sacrament.
Fal.
O, doubt not but I shall repent me sufficiently
afterwards.
Fri.
Ah! Sir John, Sir John, I fear me you are no
true penitent: but, however, it may be lawful to salve
what cannot be effectually cur'd. I did not expect to
make a convert at the first interview. If thou takest any
measures that tend tow'rd reformation, thou shalt have my
-- 53 --
Prayers and best assistance therein. Another time I will
hold farther conversation with thee.
Fal.
In the mean time, good father, let me stand fair
in your report to my Lord chief-justice and his majesty.
Fri.
Thou shalt stand fairer than I fear thou deservest.
Farewel.
[Exit Friar.
SCENE II.
Tavern continued.
Falstaff, solus.
Fare thee well, good father friar. What an hypocritical
puritan! Would not drink sack! Not with the ungodly I
suppose. But I am damnably mistaken, if he be not indebted
for that rosy countenance and the gout, to the penetrating
qualities of old sherris. Bardolph! get ready to
attend me forth. I'll tow'rd St. Paul's.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
An Apartment at Court.
Enter King, Lord Scroop, and others.
King.
The French ambassadors! they shall have audience.
But first we shall dispatch the saucy legate.
Lord.
My liege, he comes; and with my lords the bishops.
SCENE IV.
Apartment continued.
Enter Archbishop of Canterbury, the Pope's Legate, and other Bishops.
Arch.
Heav'n show'r its choicest blessings on your majesty.
May conquest, honour, peace, and length of days,
Attend your glorious reign. My liege, the nuncio.
King.
Well, my lord cardinal, your reverence
Hath fresh dispatches from the court of Rome:
What is their tenour?
Leg.
Such as well becomes
The court of Rome, his holiness our master,
The delegate of heav'n, and first in power
Of all the kings and princes in the world;
-- 54 --
Him at whose feet obedient monarchs bow,
As unto God's vice gerent here on earth.
In substance this—your majesty must yield—
Scroop.
Must! lordly priest! Where didst thou learn thy manners?
That word will work.
[Aside.
Leg.
Lord, where didst thou? I spoke unto the king.
King.
Lord Scroop your love and zeal make you too bold.
Scroop.
Your highness pardon me; but you're too good
To grant an audience to th' ill-manner'd priest,
Who dares to cast such insult upon majesty.
Must yield, my liege!
King.
Proceed, lord cardinal.
Leg.
In few, king Henry, nothing will his holiness
Abate of those pretensions he hath founded,
Respecting the disposal of church gifts,
And the provisions made by th' holy see
For any priest or bishop in the realm:
By me enjoining, hence, the king of England
To put them peaceably in full possession
Of all the temporalities, that now,
Or heretofore, were known to them belonging.
King.
And all this must be done.
Scroop.
Ay must, my liege.
King.
Enough.—Lord cardinal, we understand ye.—
And as we labour here in some necessity—
Leg.
Yet more: his holiness requires that law
Should be repeal'd, which now declares it treason
To levy contributions on the clergy,
For spiritual use, without consent of parliament.
King.
'Tis well; thus much for us, and now for you.
Your excellence must take that loyal oath
Your predecessor took in Richard's time;—
Dost thou remember't, uncle Exeter?
Exet.
It is, my liege, that he shall neither act,
Permit, or cause whatever to be acted,
That's detrimental to the king's prerogative,
Or laws o'th' kingdom: that he'd execute
No bulls or mandates hurtful to your person,
The rights o' th' crown, and legal constitution:
-- 55 --
And more particularly never send
Our jewels, plate, and monies hence abroad,
Without a license from the king and council.
King.
This, my lord cardinal, for you: the rest
We'll send by special envoy to the pope.
Leg.
Impose an oath on me! mistaken prince!
I am a servant to the King of heav'n;
And owe allegiance unto none but him,
And to his representative at Rome.
King.
See that thou take this oath in three days time,
Or henceforth let me see thy face no more;
But leave our kingdom as you prize your life.
Nay, make me no reply. I'll hear no more.
[Exit King and Lords.
SCENE V
Continued.
Manent Archbishop of Canterbury, Legate, and other Bishops.
Arch.
Lord cardinal, you are too bold and peremptory.
Did not I tell you this was not your way;
That Henry was not to be intimidated?
Leg.
You did. I have indeed o'ershot the mark;
I see the error now. But say, my lord,
What's to be done?
Arch.
For Rome, I fear not much: for, as for us,
Of England's clergy, we can aid you little.
We shall have much to do to save ourselves.
Nay, to do this, I see no other means
Than that of giving such a mighty sum,
As may suffice the present wants o'th' court.
This may perhaps defer the evil day,
In which the laity will strip the church.
But let's my lords to Lambeth; there are met
Our other rev'rend brethren, the lords bishops;
There we'll commune together on our grievances.
[Exeunt all but the Legate.
-- 56 --
SCENE VI.
Continued.
Legate, solus.
And is it thus? I then will take this oath.
For hence I will not, till this upstart king
Shall stoop, and kiss the rod of my correction.
No, I will stay and sow the seeds of discord,
'Till, like the fabled dragon's teeth of old,
They shoot up into rebels arm'd against him.
Th' imprison'd Mortimer, the legal heir's
A pious friend to Rome. He shall be king;
Or I will spread so wide the scene of blood,
That England shall be one continued slaughter-house.
The French despise the haughty stripling's claims,
And doubtless will assist in this good work.
I'll get a mandate sent express from Rome,
That shall absolve his subjects of allegiance.
Harry sit fast, or quickly thou shalt know,
How dang'rous 'tis to make the church thy foe.
SCENE VII.
A Street.
Enter Justice Shallow and Master Slender.
Shal.
Take me—take me this letter, I say, to Sir John
Falstaff.—That is his suttling-house. I will maul his
cloak-bag of chitterlings with my rapier, as I may.
Slen.
And will you fight him, cousin? Well, hang me
if I carry the challenge. I never could abide the thoughts
of cold iron. Even a key put down my back for a bloody
nose, ugh—ugh—ugh, would always set me a shuddering.
Shal.
Don't tell me—if the law will not get me my
money, I'll be reveng'd of him. The tun-bellied knave
shall not make such a fool of me. I will have his blood
or my money.
Slen.
His blood! O lud! O lud! Why, cousin Shallow,
you are enough to—
Shal.
Carry me this letter, I say, to Sir John Falstaff.
What is it to you? If I am kill'd, you are my heir, and
come in for my land and beaves. So do as I bid you.
-- 57 --
Slen.
Ecod, that's true. I did not think of that: if
my cousin's kill'd, I come in for his estate. (Aside) Ay,
ay, give it me, I'll carry him the challenge. Hey! here
he comes, with his bottle-nos'd man, that pick'd my
pocket.
Shal.
Ay, he would pass without seeing us.
SCENE VIII.
Street continued.
Enter Falstaff, and Bardolph.
Shal.
Sir John! Sir John Falstaff!
Bar.
Sir John, justice Shallow calls ye.
Fal.
What would the blade of spear-mint have with
me? I have done with him.
Shal.
But I have not yet done with you, Sir John? I
would first have my thousand pound of you again.
Fal.
You would, master Shallow! like enough! You
must take me then in the humour. I am at present ill-dispos'd
to your suit.
Shal.
Tut, Sir John. I have said I will not tamely put
up this wrong. If I do, I shall be flouted and gib'd to
death: I shall be pursued by the mockery of a whole
hundred.
Fal.
Not unlikely. But, believe me, the more you
bustle in this business, the more you will expose yourself.
The more you stir—you know the proverb, master Shallow,
it is a little homely, so let that pass. Yet, let me
advise thee; rest content.
Shal.
Content! I am not content. I cannot be content.
Nay, I will not be content. Give me back the
money, or I will have satisfaction of thee.
Fal.
Satisfaction, sayst thou? Why thou wilt not dare
me to the combat.
Shal.
Such provocation would make a coward fight,
Sir John.
Fal.
If it make thee fight, I'll be sworn it would: for
I have seen thee tremble at the shaking of a wheat-ear.
Shal.
To be bamboozled! cheated! laught at! I will
not put it up. By heav'ns, I will not put it up.
Fal.
Well said, master Shallow. Now I see there's
mettle in thee. But surely thou would'st not be the first
-- 58 --
to break the peace? thou, whose office it is to punish the
breach of it.
Shal.
Sir John, there are times and reasons for all
things. If you will neither give me my money nor gentleman's
satisfaction, I will have thee toss'd in a blanket
for a poltroon as thou art.
Fal.
They must be stout carls, master Shallow, that
toss me in a blanket.
Shal.
Well, well, we shall see, I'll parley with you no
longer. Cousin Slender don't stand shill I, shall I, but
give him the note.
Slen.
Ay, ay, if coz is kill'd, I shall have his estate;
and so there's the challenge.
[Exeunt Shallow and Slender.
SCENE IX.
Continued.
Falstaff and Bardolph.
Fal.
A challenge!—By the Lord, and it is a challenge.
I am call'd upon here to meet him at single rapier.
Hoo! what a turluru! In the name of common-sense is
the fool turn'd madman? What means the simple tony by
this? To get his money again? Does he think by running
me thro' the pericardium to become my heir at law? The
fearful stag is at bay, and become desperate. But let me
see—what's to be done here? I am in person too much of
a knight to engage with so little a 'squire.—I have it.—
Bardolph, I being your master and a knight, thou art by
the laws of chivalry no less than a 'squire. Now, as I take
it, this quarrel is properly thine: thou must meet justice
Shallow at single rapier.
Bar.
I, Sir John. He has no quarrel against me. The
challenge is given to your honour.
Fal.
True, but I tell thee my honour disdains to encounter
a pitiful 'squire: thou must take my sword and
fight him.
Bar.
I shall only disgrace your arms, Sir John.
Fal.
Go to, you will do well. He knows nothing of
the sword; and should he challenge thee at pistols, put a
charge into each barrel, and present thy nose at him: he
will never stand thy fire.
-- 59 --
Bar.
Indeed, Sir John I must be excus'd. I never could
fight in my life, unless there was something to be got by
it; for a booty on the highway, or so.
Fal.
Why 'tis for a thousand pound, you rogue.
Bar.
And where's the money?
Fal.
At my cashier's.
Bar.
Well then, Sir John, why should we fight for it?
Fal.
Bardolph, thou art a coward; but no matter. I
have a thought: I will meet him myself. See that my
buckler be well lin'd that I fought with at Shrewsbury.
[Exeunt.
SCENE X.
An Apartment.
Enter Lord Scroop and the Earl of Cambridge.
Scroop.
Now comes the season of commotion on.
The French ambassadors have had their audience,
And carry back defiance to their master.
The nettled Harry arms, mean-time, for France;
Inviting all the gallant youths of Britain,
To join his rashness in this expedition.
Cam.
We must with him too.
Scroop.
Curse on his favour: yes; he means, forsooth,
To do us honour.
Cam.
Had we staid at home,
We might, perhaps, have seiz'd some fair occasion
To strike the crown off his usurping head,
And place it on the rightful brows of Mortimer.
The legate is already our staunch friend,
And France will aid our plot t' ensure success:
Yet still we cannot make our party strong.
While Harry keeps that eagle eye upon us,
At ev'ry step we stumble on suspicion.
Scroop.
Why, if his eye offend thee, pluck it out.
Cam.
Would he were out o'th' way.
Scroop.
Canst thou not send him?
No time more opportune could have been wish'd,
Than when, full fledg'd and on the wing for France,
His troops embark'd, and all intent on conquest,
He means to follow. Might he not be sent
A longer journey than from hence to Normandy?
-- 60 --
Cam.
Whither?
Scroop.
To heav'n.
Cam.
Would he, indeed, were there.
Scroop.
Couldst thou not strike a blow? a home one.
Cam.
Ha!
Scroop.
Could not thy poniard steal into his heart?
Cam.
'Twere better guided by some other hand.
In open fight I could encounter lions;
But bear no steady point i' th' trade of murther.
Scroop.
In open fight! and wouldst thou covet hazard?
Who seeks thro' danger to obtain the end,
That may be reach'd without, may boast an heart;
But gives strong proofs o'th' weakness of his head.
Cam.
Scroop, I object not unto Harry's death;
Nor to the safest means to cut him off:
I only would not be his executioner.
Who means to profit by the murd'rer's work,
Shold never bear the odium of his guilt.
Scroop.
I did not mean you e'er should profit by't.
But fear makes blockheads cunning.
[Aside.
Cambridge, methinks thou shouldst be first to strike:
Whose is the cause, but Mortimer's and thine?
Cam.
And yet I will not be myself th' assassin:
It would be both impolitick and dangerous:
I wonder, Scroop, thy prudence sees it not.
Villains enow there are for such employ:
Had we not better hire some ruffian's poniard;
One whose miscarriage might not even reach us;
And yet, succeeding, on whose worthless head
The vengeance of the publick hate might fall;
We seeming but the while to take th' advantage
Of such an accident to raise up Mortimer.
Scroop.
Curse on't. Th' affair is thine: there's not a villain
Money will bribe but will his int'rest find
As much in his betraying us.
Cam.
I would not trust to interest alone:
But a deep-grounded hate and fix'd resentment
Against th' usurper's person may do much.
Scroop.
Who bears him such good-will?
-- 61 --
Cam.
The banish'd Falstaff;
His late most hopeful tutor and companion;
A finish'd villain!
Scroop.
Yes, too much a villain.
Damn him he has not honesty enough.
Cam.
If but his hatred's amply keen 'twill do:
And, if I'm well inform'd, you now will find him
For mischief ripe, and thirsty for revenge.
Scroop.
Harry hath treated him, indeed, but roughly;
But all such dastard wretches can forgive.
Besides, they say he's but a blustring coward,
That wears his dagger only in his mouth.
Cam.
Yes, he can stab. This, Scroop, is coward's work.
He hates young Harry, and with grounded reason;
I cannot think but, comes this task a foot,
He's a most proper villain.
Scroop.
I will sound him;
And as I find him sitting for our purpose,
Will seek to bind him fast unto our service.
Mean time, neglect not thou Sir Thomas Grey,
Who wishes well to thee and to our cause.
Cam.
I will not.
Scroop.
Neither is it less expedient
To teach thy sword less honour and more safety.
Say Harry falls, three brothers yet remain;
And ere thyself, or Mortimer, succeed
The sons of Bolingbroke must freely bleed.
[Exeunt, severally.
SCENE XI.
A Field. Enter Falstaff.
Aha—Aha—What a vile mist there is abroad this
evening! I cannot see a sword's length before me. This
must be the spot. But where is our adversary? I would
not have him, methinks, lost in the fog. Master Shallow!
Master Shallow!
SCENE XII.
Enter Shallow, stript for the Combat.
Shal.
Ay, ay, Sir John, here am I.
Fal.
Saints and good angels guard us! what is this?
-- 62 --
Shal.
Come, Sir John, draw, draw.
Fal.
It calls me by my name too! Jesu Maria! It is
no deceptio visûs. In the name of heav'n and earth, what
art thou? Ouphe, fairy, ghost, hobgoblin, or demon?
Exorciso te.—Pater noster—
Shal.
Come, Sir John, don't think to put me from my
purpose, you know me very well. You know justice Shallow
to his cost.
Fal.
How! can this thing be Robert Shallow of Gloucestershire,
esq; justice of the peace, and of the quorum?
I took it for some strolling ghost escap'd out of purgatory,
by all that's terrible.
Shal.
Sir John, this mockery shall not suffice you.
Fal.
Nay, it is true, as I am a sinner.
Shal.
Will you fight me, Sir John, or will you not?
Fal.
Fight thee! When thou seest the princely eagle
descend to encounter with the tomtit. What! shall the
lofty elephant wield his proboscis against a mite? Shall Sir
John Falstaff draw his martial sword against such a pigwidgeon
as thou?
Shal.
What then did you come here for, Sir John? If
you would not be treated as a coward, lay down your target,
and draw.
Fal.
Lay down my target, sayst thou? Who would be
fool then? Look ye, master Shallow (since shallow thou
wilt be) if I fight, it must be on equal terms. It is but
equitable that my body should be secur'd, when I engage
with an unsubstantial form; a thing that has none. Dost
thou think me such a goose-cap as to lay open this fair
round belly to the point of thy rapier, when thou presentest
not a mark for me. It were as good as pricking at a
lottery, ten thousand blanks to a prize, to make a thrust
at thee. It were indeed more than a miracle to hit what,
rhetorically speaking, is impalpable. But come, if thou
must fight with me, thou shalt not say I deal unfairly by
thee. To draw my sword would be needless: for hit
thee I never shall.—That's flat. Therefore Toledo rest
thou in thy scabbard. This is my ward. (Stands on his
defence with his target.) Carry thy point as thou wilt: if
thou canst not come into me before thou art weary, the
-- 63 --
money is mine; if thou dost, and woundest me, I will
then—keep it to pay the surgeon. So, come on.
Shal.
Sir John, you are a cowardly knave, and I will
kill you if I can.
(They fight. Mr. Shallow thrusts at Sir John, who receives his point always on his target.
Fal.
Well said, master Shallow.—Bravo!—To't again.—
Sa—Sa.
(Shallow breaks his sword, and Falstaff closes with
him, and seizes him by the collar; on which Shallow
falls down on his knees, and Falstaff claps
the target on his head.
Ha! have I nabb'd you? You should have appointed
sticklers, Mr. Shallow. What if I should cut thy throat
now?
(Taking off the target.
Shal.
Sir John, my life is in your hands: but you
know you have wrong'd me.
Fal.
Well then, thy wrongs be forgotten; and, on
that condition, I give thee back thy forfeited life.
Shal.
And I hope also you won't bear malice, Sir John,
against me for the future.
Fal.
By the Lord, not I. I do admire thy magnanimity
and valour. Why, thou art the very mirror of
prowess, and pink of 'squire errantry. John of Gaunt was
a fool to thee. Were I a king thou shouldst, for this
day's work, be made a knight with all the honours of
chivalry. Nay, by our lady, I will take majesty upon
me, and knight thee myself. Rise up Sir Robert Shallow,
knight of the most horrible order of combatants and murderers
of the fifth button. And now, Sir Robert, if thou
dost not think the title I've bestow'd on thee worth the
thousand pound I owe thee; I give thee my word, that,
when sack is cheap, and I have money to spare, I will think
of thee; and so farewell, Sir Robert Shallow, knight.
[Exit Falstaff.
SCENE XIII.
Shallow, solus.
The devil sure is in fee with this roisting bell-swagger.
There is no good to be made of him any way. I find I
must perforce sit me down contented, and bear my loss
-- 64 --
as I may. I hope nevertheless to see the rascal come to
the gallows yet.
O were I sure that once would come to pass;
That he might pay for making me an ass!
End of the Fourth Act.
William Kenrick [1760], Falstaff's Wedding: a comedy. Being a Sequel to the Second Part of the Play of King Henry the Fourth. Written in Imitation of Shakespeare, By Mr. Kenrick (Printed for J. Wilkie... [and] F. Blyth [etc.], London) [word count] [S34600].
