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confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.

P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had him from me christian; and look, if the fat villain have not transformed him ape.

Enter BARDOLPH and Page.

Bard. God save your grace.

P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph.

Bard. Come, you virtuous ass', [To the Page.] you bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you become? Is it such a matter to get a pottlepot's maidenhead?

Page. He called me even now, my lord, through a red lattice', and I could discern no part of his face from the window: at last, I spied his eyes; and, methought, he had made two holes in the ale-wife's new petticoat, and peeped through.

P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away! P. Hen. Instruct us, boy: what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was delivered of a fire-brand, and therefore I call him her dream.

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P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation.— There it is, boy. [Gives him money.

1 Come, you VIRTUOUS ass,] The folio has it, "pernicious ass ;" and all the old editions assign the speech to Poins instead of Bardolph, to whom it evidently belongs. Theobald made the change.

2 through a RED LATTICE,] Nothing is more common in our old writers than the mention of "red lattice," or as it is sometimes misprinted "red lettice," at the doors and windows of ale-houses. It was through one of these lattices that Bardolph was looking, when the page thought he was peeping through two holes in the new red petticoat of the ale-wife.

3 Althea dreamed, &c.] Shakespeare," says Johnson," is here mistaken in his mythology, and has confounded Althea's fire-brand with Hecuba's. The fire-brand of Althea was real: but Hecuba, when she was big with Paris, dreamed that she was delivered of a fire-brand that consumed the kingdom."

Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from cankers!-Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.

Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among you, the gallows shall have wrong.

P. Hen. And how doth thy master, Bardolph ? Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to town: there's a letter for you.

Poins. Delivered with good respect.-And how doth the martlemas, your master?

Bard. In bodily health, sir.

Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies

not.

P. Hen. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog; and he holds his place, for look you how he writes*.

Poins. [Reads.] "John Falstaff, knight,"-every man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself; even like those that are kin to the king, for they never prick their finger, but they say, "There is some of the King's blood spilt:" "How comes that?" says he, that takes upon him not to conceive: the answer is as ready as a borrower's cap; "I am the king's poor cousin, sir."

P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But to the letter:

Poins. "Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting."-Why, this is a certificate.

P. Hen. Peace!

Poins. "I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity:"-he sure means brevity in breath, shortwinded. "I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears, thou

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for look you How he writes.] So the quarto: the folio omits "how."

art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as

thou may'st, and so farewell.

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Thine, by yea and no, (which is as much

as to say, as thou usest him,) Jack Falstaff, with my familiars; John, with my brothers and sisters; and sir John with all Europe."

My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and make him eat it.

P. Hen. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?

Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! but I never said so.

P. Hen. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds, and mock us. Is your master here in London?

Bard. Yes, my lord.

P. Hen. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank"?

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.

P. Hen. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church.

P. Hen. Sup any women with him?

Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and mistress Doll Tear-sheet.

P. Hen. What pagan may that be?

Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.

P. Hen. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town bull.-Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy,-and Bardolph ;-no word to your master that I am yet come to town: there's for your silence.

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Bard. I have no tongue, sir.

Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it.

P. Hen. Fare ye well; go. [Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page.]-This Doll Tear-sheet should be some road.

Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.

P. Hen. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins, and aprons, and wait upon him at his table as drawers.

P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension! it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be mine; for in every thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Warkworth. Before the Castle.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, Lady NORTHUMBERLAND, and Lady PERCY.

North. I pray thee, loving wife and gentle daughter, Give even way unto my rough affairs:

Put not you on the visage of the times,

And be like them to Percy troublesome.

Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more. Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn,

And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

Lady P. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!

The time was, father, that you broke your word,

6 - a heavy DESCENSION!] So the quarto: the folio needlessly substitutes declension. The earliest was, probably, Shakespeare's word.

When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart-dear Harry',
Threw many a northward look, to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost, yours, and your son's:
For yours, may heavenly glory brighten it!

For his, it stuck upon him, as the sun

In the grey vault of heaven: and, by his light,
Did all the chivalry of England move

To do brave acts, he was, indeed, the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs, that practised not his gaits;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;

For those that could speak low, and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him: so that, in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark and glass, copy and book,

That fashion'd others. And him,-O wondrous him!

O miracle of men!-him did you leave,

(Second to none, unseconded by you)
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage; to abide a field,

Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible-so you left him.

Never, O! never, do his ghost the wrong,

To hold your honour more precise and nice

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when my HEART-DEAR Harry,] This compound epithet is from the folio, and is certainly finer than "my heart's dear Harry" of the quarto.

& He had no legs, that practised not his gait ;] This and the twenty-one lines following are only in the folio editions.

9 And speaking THICK,] Steevens truly observes, that "speaking thick" here means speaking rapidly, (as contradistinguished from " tardily,") a circumstance strongly characteristic of Hotspur. In a song by Weelkes, quoted by Mr. Rimbault in his reprint of Dekker's "Knights' Conjuring" for the Percy Society, a musician is told to play more rapidly in the words, " Pipe it up thicker.”

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