Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so much engraffed to Falstaff.

Prince. And to thee.

Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of: I can hear it with my own ears. The worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those two things I confess I cannot help.-By the mass, here comes Bardolph.

"Let the end try the man!" That's it the Prince is, even in the play, no actual rake and debauchee, but a wise, witty, thoughtful man; charmed, it is true, by the wit and humor of the most fascinating of loose companions, and enjoying for a season the mirth, jollity, and high spirits of a riotous company; but not in spirit one of them. He loves what is good in them, but despises their vices. It is plain that his companions mistake him; they think him as bad as themselves; for Poins obviously thinks him so devoid of natural affection as to be capable of joy at the news of his father's death. But he is mistaken; the Prince is quite a different man. He is by no means "so far in the devil's book" as

they are; and he comes out in the sequel, as the original did, unscathed, and all the wiser for his experience among them. If he were an abandoned rake, how could he be made to act and think so wisely. when away from them? how could he encounter and conquer that prince of warriors, Hotspur? and if he were not of a generous heart and philosophic mind, how could he be made to pronounce such a noble speech over the dead body of this his conquered enemy?—

Fare thee well, great heart!—

Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,

A kingdom for it was too small a bound;

But now, two paces of the vilest earth

Is room enough. This earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so brave a gentleman.

If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

I should not make so dear a show of zeal;
But let my favors hide thy mangled face;

And even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself

For doing these fair rites of tenderness.

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remembered in thy epitaph!

Is there not a touch of Hamlet in this speech? Could the philosophic Dane have uttered more generous, thoughtful words? O how sincerely, how fervently we could apply these last lines to the Prince himself!

CHAPTER VII.

THE MERRY MEETING-THE

Now

ING ADVENTURE.

DEER-STEAL

OW comes the famous scene after the robbery, a scene which, besides being crammed with wit, humor, and jollity, gives such a vivid picture of the character whom we are endeavoring to identify with that of the Poet, that he who has read it a hundred times may well afford, in this new light, to read it again. Indeed, I trust that every one who reads this essay will henceforth read the entire play with much more insight, much more pleasure and satisfaction than he ever read it before.

Passing Falstaff's extraordinary account of his bravery, let me quote the concluding part of this marvellously interesting

scene:

Prince. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.

Poins. Mark, Jack.

Prince. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.— Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house :-And Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack: what trick hast thou now?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as He that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct: the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life: I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. -Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night,