SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others.

K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with

care,

Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new brcils
To be commenc'd, in stronds" afar remote.
No more the thirsty entrance of this soil

Stronds-strands-shores.

b Entrance. In the variorum editions of Shakspere, except Malone's of 1821, we have the following correction of the text:

"No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil." This ingenious reading was suggested by Monck Mason, and adopted by Steevens, in defiance "of such as restrain themselves within the bounds of timid conjecture." Erinnys, according to Monck Mason, is the Fury of Discord. He gives examples of the use of the name from Virgil, Lucan, and Statius. We will add another example from Ovid (Ep. vi.):"Sed tristis Erinnys

Prætulit infaustas sanguinolenta faces." But such a change is beside the proper duty of an editor, whose business is not to attempt the improvement of his author, but to explain what he has written. Entrance could not be a misprint for Erinnys;-the words could not be con"ounded by a transcriber;-nor could the ear mistake the ne for the other. The first conjecture of Steevens that the word was entrants came within the proper line of editorial emendation; the suggestion of Douce, entrails, is not far beyond it. But why is the original text to be disturbed at all?

"No more the thirsty entrance of this soil

Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood,"

Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood,
No more shall trenching war channel her fields;
Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way; and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:

is somewhat obscure; but the obscurity is perfectly in the manner of Shakspere, and in great part arises from the bold. ness of the metaphor. Entrance is put for mouth; and if we were to read-No more the thirsty mouth of this earth shall daub her lips with the blood of her own children-we should find little more difficulty than with the passage in Genesis, which was probably in Shakspere's mind when he wrote the line:-"And now art thou cursed from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand." The terms entrance and mouth are convertible even now-as the mouth of a river, for the entrance of a river.

Or, suppose the word surface stood in the place of entrance, for as the surface is the outward part so is the entrance-the difficulty is lessened. "No more this soil shall daub her lips "-is clear;-" no more the thirsty surface of this soil shall daub her lips" is equally clear. The only difficulty, then, is in taking entrance' to mean 'surface.' A correspondent of the present editor suggests crannies; and there is authority for this in a line of the old King John, with reference to 'blood '

Closing the crannies of the thirsty earth,' (which passage had been previously pointed out by Malone). We should be inclined to prefer crannies, did not entrance give a perfectly clear meaning if we receive it in the sense of mouth.

The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,
(Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engag'd to fight,)
Forthwith a power of English shall we levy ;a
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
To chase these pagans, in those holy fields,
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet,
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd,
For our advantage, on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootless 't is to tell you-we will go;
Therefore we meet not now:-Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience.

West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,—that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shameless transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be,
Without much shame, re-told or spoken of.

K. Hen. It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil

Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

West. This, match'd with other like, my gra-
cious lord.

Far more uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north, and thus it did report:
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there;
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,

a Levy. Gifford (Ben Jonson, v., 138) has properly rebuked the rash disposition of Steevens to meddle with the text, in a remark upon the passage before us. Steevens says, to levy a power as far as to the sepulchre of Christ is an expression quite unexampled, if not corrupt; and he proposes to read lead. "The expression is neither unexampled nor corrupt," says Gifford, "but good authorized English. One instance of it is before me: Scipio, before he levied his force to the walles of Carthage, gave his soldiers the print of the citie in a cake to be devoured.' Gosson's School of Abuse, 1587."

b Therefore we meet not now. We do not meet now on that account.

c Limits. To limit is to define-and therefore the limits of the charge may be the calculations, the estimates.

d Welshwomen, &c. The story is told in Walsingham, and may be found in Andrews' History of Great Britain, vol. i., part ii, p. 4.

e Our reading of this passage is that of the folio, and some of the quartos. The first quarto, which has been followed in most modern editions, is thus:

"This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord;

For more uneven and unwelcome news

Came from the north, and thus it did import."

That ever-valiant and approved Scot, At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious

friend,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Stain'd with the variation of each soil

Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; And he hath brought us smooth and welcome

news:

The earl of Douglas is discomfited;
Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood, did sir Walter see
On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur
took

Mordake earl of Fife, and eldest son
To beaten Douglas; and the earl of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
West. In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

In

K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, aud mak'st me sin

envy that my lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son:
A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd,
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts :-What think
you coz',

Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife.
West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is
Worcester,

Malevolent to you in all aspects;
Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this:

And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor; and so inform the lords;
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.
West. I will, my liege.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-London. An Apartment of the Prince's.

Enter HENRY, Prince of WALES, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time o' day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame colour'd taffata; I see no reason why thou should'st be so superflous to demand the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,-he, that wanderering knight so fair. And, I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for wilt have none,)

grace

thou

P. Hen. What! none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.

Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us that are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the day's beauty;a let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well

a Day's beauty-perhaps beauty is meant to be pronounced booty, as it is sometimes provincially.

As for

too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is by the moon. proof.a Now, a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearinglay by; and spent with crying-bring in : now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. And is not my

Fal. Thou say'st true, lad. hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance ?*

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part ?

Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not I have used my credit.

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou when thou art king hang a thief.

P. Hen. No; thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rare! I'll be a brave judge.

P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it

As for proof. We point this according to the punctuation of the old copies.

b Lay by-stop. To lay by, in navigation, is to slacken sail. c Bring in the call to the drawers for more wine.

d Old lad of the castle. Lad of the castle was a somewhat common term in Shakspere's time, and is found in several contemporary writers. Farmer says it meant lad of Castile -a Castilian. The passage in the text, in connexion with other circumstances, has given rise to the notion that Sir John Oldcastle was pointed at in the character of Falstaff (See Introductory Notice.)

e Robe of durance. The buff jerkin, the coat of ox-skin, (buf) was worn by sheriff's officers. It was a robe of durance, an "everlasting garment," as in the Comedy of Errors; but it was also a robe of "durance" in a sense that would not furnish an agreeable association to one who was always in debt and danger, as Falstaff was.

jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

P. Hen. For obtaining of suits?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear.

P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.2

P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch P3

Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascallest, sweet young prince. But Hal, I prithee trouble me no more with vanity. I would thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought! An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.

P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.

Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration: and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm unto me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now I am, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.

P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?

Ful. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain and baffle me.

merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried Stand, to a true man.

P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned.

Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says monsieur Remorse? What says sir John Sackand-Sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last, for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg?

P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word,-the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due.

Poins. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.

P. Hen. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil.

Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill:5 There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hanged.

Fal. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going,

Poins. You will, chops?

Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.

Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor

Enter POINS, at a distance.

Fal. Why, Hal, 't is my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!-Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a watch. O, if men were to be saved by

Gib cat. Gib and Tib were old English names for a male cat. We have Tybalt called "king of cats" in Romeo and Juliet. Tybert is the cat in Reynard the Fox. Chaucer, in the Romaunt of the Rose, gives "Gibbe," as the translation of Thibert," the cat. The name appears to have been applied to an old male cat, whose gravity approaches to the character of melancholy.

b Iteration-repetition-not mere citation as some have thought. Falstaff does not complain only of Hal's quoting a scriptural text, but that he has been retorting and distorting the meaning of his words throughout the scene. For example, Falstaff talks of the sun and moon-the Prince retorts with the sea and moon;- Falstaff uses hanging in one sense, the Prince in another:-so of judging; and so in the passage which at last provokes Falstaff's complaint.

eSet a watch. The folio reads thus; the quartos set a

the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.b

P. Hen. Well, then, once in my days, I'll be a mad-cap.

Fal. Why that's well said.

P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

Fal. I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

match. Steevens says, "as no watch is afterwards set I suppose match is the true reading." To "set a match" appears, from a passage in Ben Jonson, to be to "make an appointment." But Gadshill, it seems to us, was in communication with the chamberlain of the Rochester inn; and this chamberlain, who was to have a share in the " purchase," was the watch or spy that Gadshill had set. When Gadshill meets Falstaff and Poins he is received with "O, 'tis our setter."

a Hear ye. This, which is the reading of the old editions, was once changed into the feeble Hear me. "Hear ye" is the same as "Hark ye."

b Ten shillings was the value of the royal. Hence Fal staff's quibble.