P. Henry. He that rides at high speed, and with a 4 pistol kills a fparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it. P. Henry. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well; that rascal has good mettle in him; he will not run. P. Henry. Why, what a`rascal art thou then, to praise him fo for running? Fal. A horseback, ye cuckow! but afoot he will not budge a foot. P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon inftinct! Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand 5 blue-caps more. Worcester is ftolen away by night: thy father's beard is turn'd white with the news. 6 You may buy land now as cheap as ftinking mackerel. P. Henry. Then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we should buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. By the mafs, lad, thou say'st true; it is like we shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard, thou being heir ap piftol-] Shakespeare never has any care to preferve the manners of the time. Pistols were not known in the age of Henry. Piftols were, I believe, about our author's time, eminently ufed by the Scots. Sir Henry Wotton fomewhere makes mention of a Scottish piftol. JOHNSON. B. and Fletcher are ftill more inexcufable. In The Humorous Lieutenant they have equipp'd one of the immediate fucceffors of Alexander the Great with the fame weapon. STEEVENS. blue caps] A name of ridicule given to the Scots from their blue bonnets. JOHNSON. 6 You may buy land, &c.] In former times the profperity of the nation was known by the value of land, as now by the price of flocks. Before Henry the Seventh made it fafe to ferve the king regnant, it was the practice at every revolution, for the conqueror to confifcate the eftates of thofe that opposed, and perhaps of thofe who did not affift him. Thofe, therefore, that forefaw a change of government, and thought their eftates in danger, were defirous to fell them in hafte for fomething that might be carried away. JOHNSON. parent? parent? Could the world pick thee out three fuch enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it? P. Henry. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack fome of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou com'ft to thy father: if thou do love me, practise an answer. P. Henry. Do thou ftand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life. Fal. Shall I content. This chair fhall be my state, this dagger my scepter, and 7 this cushion my crown. P. Henry. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden fcepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful bald crown. Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now fhalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of fack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I muft fpeak in paffion, and I will do it in 9 king Cambyfes' vein. P. Henry. Well, here is my leg. Fal. And here is my fpeech.-Stand aside, nobility.— 7 — this cushion my crown.] Dr. Letherland, in a MS. note, obferves, that the country people in Warwickshire use a cufbion for a crown, at their harveft-home diverfions; and in the play of King Edward IV. p. 2, 1619, is the following paffage: "Then comes a flave, one of those drunken fots, "In with a tavern reck'ning for a fupplication, 66 Disguised with a cushion on his head." STEEVENS. Thy fate, &c.] This anfwer might, I think, have better been omitted: it contains only a repetition of Falstaff's mockroyalty. JOHNSON. 9 king Cambyfes-] A lamentable tragedy, mixed full of pleafant mirth, containing the life of Cambyfes king of Perfia. By Thomas Prefton. THEOBALD. I question if Shakespeare had ever feen this tragedy; for there is a remarkable peculiarity of meafure, which, when he profeffed to speak in king Cambyfes' vein, he would hardly have miffed, if he had known it. JOHNSON. 1 VOL. V. my leg.] That is, my obeifance to my father. T JOHNSON. Hoft. Hoft. This is excellent fport, i'faith. Fal. Weep not, fweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. Hoft. O the father! how he holds his countenance? Fal. For God's fake, lords, convey my triftful queen, For tears do ftop the flood-gates of ber eyes. Hoft. O rare! he doth it like one of those harlotry players, as I ever see. 2. Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklebrain Harry, I do not only marvel where thou fpendeft thy time, but also how thou art accompanied for 3 though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the fafter it grows, yet youth, the more it is wafted, the fooner it wears. Thou art my fon, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be fon to me, here lieth the point; Why, being fon to me, art thou fo pointed at? Shall the bleffed fun of heaven prove 4 a micher, and eat black-berries? a queftion not to be afk'd. Shall the fon 2 Harry, I do not only marvel, &c.] A ridicule on the public oratory of that time. WARBURTON. 3 though the camomile, &c.] This whole fpeech is fupremely comic. The fimile of camomile ufed to illuftrate a contrary effect, brings to my remembrance an observation of a late writer of fome merit, whom the defire of being witty has betrayed into a like thought. Meaning to enforce with great vehemence the mad temerity of young foldiers, he remarks, that though Bedlam be in the road to Hogiden, it is out of "the way to promotion." JOHNSON. 66 In The More the Merrier, a collection of epigrams, 1608, is the following paffage : "The camomile fhall teach thee patience, "Which thriveth beft when trodden moft upon." So in The Fawne, a comedy, by Marton, 1606: STEEVENS. "For indeed, Sir, a reprefs'd fame mounts like camomile, "the more trod down the more it grows.' 4a micher,] i. e. truant; to mich, is to lurk out of fight, a hedge-creeper. WARBURTON. The fon of England prove a thief, and take purfes? a question to be afk'd. There is a thing, Harry, which thou haft often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; fo doth the company thou keep'ft: for, Harry, now do I not fpeak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in paffion; not in words only, but in woes alfo :-and yet there is a virtuous man whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. P. Henry. What manner of man, an it like your majefty? Fal. A goodly portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleafing eye, and a moft noble carriage; and, as I think, his age fome fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to threefcore; and now, I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man fhould be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I fee virtue in his looks. 5 If then the fruit may be known by the tree, as the tree by the fruit, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the reft banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where haft thou been this month? P. Henry. Doft thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. Depofe me?—If thou dost it half so gravely, The allufion is to a truant-boy, who, unwilling to go to school, and afraid to go home, lurks in the fields, and picks wild fruits. JOHNSON. In A Comment on the Ten Commandments, printed at London in 1493, by Richard Pynfon, I find the word thus ufed: "They make Goddes houfe a den of theyves; for commonly "in fuch feyrs and markets, wherefoever it be holden, ther "ben many theyves, michers, and cutpurfe." So in The Devil's Charter, 1607: "Pox on him, micher, I'll make him pay for it." STEEVENS. If then the fruit, &c.] This paffage is happily restored by Sir Thomas Hanmer. JOHNSON. fo majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a 6 rabbet-fucker, or a poulterer's hare. P. Henry. Well, here I am fet. Fal. And here I ftand: judge, my masters. P. Henry. The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false. I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith. Nay, P. Henry. Sweareft thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why doft thou converfe with that trunk of humours, that 7 boulting-hutch of beaftlinefs, that fwoln parcel of dropfies, that huge bombard of fack, that ftufft cloak-bag of guts, that roafted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend 8 6 rabbet-fucker,-] is, I fuppofe, a fucking rabbet. The jeft is in comparing himself to fomething thin and little. So a poulterer's bare; a hare hung up by the hind legs without a fkin, is long and flender. JOHNSON. Dr. Johnfon is right: for in the account of the ferjeant's feat, by Dugdale, in his Orig. Judiciales, one article is a dozen of rabbet-fuckers. Again, in The Two angry Women of Abington, "Clofe as a rabbit-fucker from an old coney." Again, in The Wedding, by Shirley, 1626, "Thefe whorfon rabbit-fuckers will never leave the ground." STEEVENS. 7 boulting-butch-] Bolting-kutch is, I think, a meal-bag. JOHNSON. a boulting-butch-] Is the wooden receptacle into which the meal is boulted. STEEVENS. 8 Manning-tree ox-] Of the Manning-tree ox I can give no account, but the meaning is clear. JOHNSON. Manning-tree in Effex, and the neighbourhood of it, is famous for the richness of the paftures. The farms thereabouts are chiefly tenanted by graziers. Some ox of an unusual fize was, I fuppofe, roasted there on an occafion of public feftivity. STEEVENS. |