Hot. No harm; what more? Ver. And further, I have learn'd, The King himself in perfon hath fet forth, With ftrong and mighty preparation. Hot. He fhall be welcome too: where is his fon? Ver. All furnisht, all in arms, All plum'd like Eftridges, that with the wind And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Hot. No more, no more; worse than the fun in March,• This praise doth nourish agues; let them come. They come like Sacrifices in their trim, Ver. There is more news: I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, my He cannot draw his Pow'r this fourteen days. horfe, Dowg. Dowg. That's the worst tidings that I hear of, yet. Hot. Forty let it be ; My father and Glendower being both away, Fal Coventry. Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. thee before fill a bottle of fack, our foldiers fhall march through we'll to Sutton-cop-hill to night. Bard. Will you give me mony, captain? Bard. This bottle makes an angel. Fal. And if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coynage. my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end. Bard. I will, captain; farewel. Bid [Exit. Fal. If I be not asham'd of my foldiers, I am a fouc'd gurnet: I have mif-us'd the King's Prefs damnably. I have got, in exchange of an hundred and fifty foldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I prefs me none but good houfholders, yeomens' fons; enquire me out contracted batchelors, fuch as had been afk'd twice on the banes: fuch a commodity of warm flaves, as had as lieve hear the devil, as a drum; fuch as fear the report of a culverin, worfe than a ftruckfowl, or a hurt wild duck. I prefs me none but fuch toafts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their fervices: and now my whole Charge confifts of an cients, cients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, flaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the Glutton's dogs licked his fores; and fuch as indeed were never foldiers, but dif-carded unjust serving men, younger fons to younger brothers; revolted tapfters, and oftlers trade-fall'n, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace; (10) ten times more difhonourably ragged than an old-fac'd ancient; and fuch have I to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their fervices; that you would think, I had a hundred and fifty tatter'd Prodigals, lately come from fwine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and preft the dead bodies. No eye hath feen fuch fkare-crows: I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains (10) ten times more difhonourably ragged than an oldfac'd Ancient.] Shakespeare uses this Word fo promifcuously, to fignify an Enfign or Standard-bearer, and alfo the Colours or Standard borne, that I cannot be at a Certainty for his Allufion here. If the Text be genuine, I think, the Meaning muft be; as difhonourably ragged as one that has been an Enfign all his days; that has let Age creep upon him, and never had Merit enough to gain Preferment. Mr. Warburton, who understands it in the fecond Construction, has fufpected the Text, and given the following ingenious Emendation. "How is an old-fac'd Ancient, or Enfign, difhonourably ragged? "On the contrary, Nothing is esteem'd more honourable than a ragged Pair of Colours. A very little Alteration will re"ftore it to its Original Senfe, which contains a Touch of "the ftrongest and most fine turn'd Satire in the World ; Ten times more difhonourably ragged than an old Feaft Ancient : "i. e. the Colours ufed by the City-Companies in their Feafts "and Proceffions. For each Company had one with its " peculiar Device, which was ufually difplay'd and borne "about on fuch Occafions. Now Nothing could be more "witty or fatirical than this Comparifon. For as Falstaff's "Raggamuffins were reduc'd to their tatter'd Condition thro "their riotous Exceffes; fo this old Feaft Ancient became torn " and shatter'd, not in any manly Exercife of Arms, but amid "the Revels of drunken Bacchanais. march march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on ; for, indeed, I had the moft of them out of prison. There's but a fhirt and a half in all my company; and the half fhirt is two napkins tack'd together, and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without fleeves; and the shirt, to fay the truth, ftoll'n from my Hoft of St. Albans; or the red-nos'd Inn-keeper of Daintry. But that's all one, they'll find linnen enough on every hedge. Enter Prince Henry and Westmorland. P. Henry. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag, what a devil doft thou in Warwickshire? My good lord of Westmorland, I cry you mercy; I thought your Honour had already been at Shrewsbury. Weft. 'Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all to night. Fal. Tut, never fear me, I am as vigilant, as a Cat. to fteal cream. P. Henry. I think, to steal cream, indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter; but tell me, Jack, whofe fellows are thefe that come after? Fal. Mine, Hal, mine. P. Henry. I did never fee fuch pitiful rafcals. Fal. Tut, tut, good enough to tofs: food for pow der, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better; tufh, man, mortal men, mortal men. Weft. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks, they are exceed-. ing poor and bare, too beggarly. Fal. Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I am fure, they never learn'd that of me. P. Henry. No, I'll be fworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, Sirrah, make hafte.. Percy is already in the field. Fal. What, is the King encamp'd? Weft. He is, Sir John: I fear, we shall stay too long. Fal Fal. Well, The latter end of a fray, and beginning of a feaft, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Shrewsbury. Enter Hot fpur, Worcester, Dowglas, and Vernon. 7 E'll fight with him to night. Hot. W Wor. It may not be. Doug. You give him then advantage. Hot. Why fay you fo? looks he not for fupply? Hot. He is certain, ours is doubtful. Wor. Good coufin, be advis'd; ftir not to night. Dorg. You do not counfel well; You speak it out of fear, and from cold heart. Dowg. Yea, or to night. Hot. To night, fay I. Ver. Come, come, it may not be: I wonder much Being men of fuch great Leading as you are, That you foresee not what impediments Of my Hot. So are the horfes of the enemy, In gen'ral, journey-bated, and brought low: . Wors |