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Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet, it is very late; I beseech you now, aggravate your choler. Pist. These be good humours, indeed. Shall pack

horses And 8 hollow-pamper'd jades of Asia,

Wbicb staff and his messmates, as he points to Doll Tear-sheet, in the fame manner as the Turkish monarch pointed to Hiren (Irene) before the whole assembled divan. This dramatic piece I have never seen ; and it is mentioned only in that very useful and curious book The Companion to the Play-house, as the work of W. Barkstead, published in 1611. Of this play, however, I fuppose there must have been some arlier edition.

In an old comedy, 1608, called Law Tricks; or, Who would have thought it? the same quotation is likewise introduced, and on a similar occasion. The prince Polymetes says,

“ What ominous news can Polymetes daunt?

Have we not Hyren bere ?" Again, in Maflinger's Old Law,

Clown. No dancing for me, we have Siren here.
Cook. Syren! 'twas Hiren the fair Greek, man.”

STEEVENS. hollow-pamper'd jades of Afia, &c.] These lines are in part a quotation out of an old absurd fustian play, entitled, Tamburlain's Conquests; or, The Scythian Shepherd. THEOBALD.

These lines are addressed by Tamburlaine to the captive princes who draw his chariot :

“ Holla, you pamper'd jades of Asia,

“ What! can you draw but twenty miles a day ?” The same pasage is burlesqued by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Coxcomb.

I was surprized to find a simile, much celebrated by the admirers of Spenser's Fairy Queen, inserted almost word for word in this tragedy which enjoyed at once the good fortune of being censured by Theobald, and praised by Ben Jonson. The firšt edition of those books of The Fairy Queen, in which it is to be found, was published in 1590, and Tamburlaine made its appearance in the same year. Every one who is acquainted with the fertility of Spenser's imagination, muft suppose the dramatic writer to have been the piagiarist.

“ Like to an almond-tree ymounted high
“ On top of green Selinis, all alone,
“ With blossoms brave bedecked daintily,
" Whose tender locks do tremble every one
little breath that under heaven is blown.”


At every

Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæsars, and with 9 Cannibals,
And Trojan Greeks ? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for

toys ? Hoft. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.

Bard. Begone, good Ancient. This will grow to a brawl anon.

Pist. Die men, like dogs; give crowns like pins ; i have we not Hiren here?

“ Like to an almond-aee ymounted high
Upon the lofty and celestial mount
Of ever-green Selinis, quaintly deck'd
“ With bloom more bright than Erycina’s brows;
“ Whofe tender blossoms tremble every one
At every little breath from heaven is blown."

Marloe's Tamerlaine.

STEEVENS. Cannibals,] Cannibal is used by a blunder for Hannibal. This was afterwards copied by Congreve's Bluff and Witrol. Bluff is a character apparently taken from this of Ancient Pifol.

JOHNSON Perhaps the character of a bully on the English stage might have been originally taken from Piftol; but Congreve seems to have copied his Nol Bluff more immediately from Jonson's Captain Bobadil. Steevens.

have we not Hiren bere? Hoft. O' my word, captain, there's none such here.) i. e. Shall I fear, that have this trusty and invincibie sword by my side? For, as king Arthur's swords were called Caliburne and Ron ; as Edward the Confeffor's, Curtana ; as Charlemagne's, Joyeufe ; Orlando's, Durindana ; Rinaldo's, Fusberta ; and Rogero's, Balisarda ; so Pistol, in imitation of these heroes, calls his sword Hiren. I have been told, Amadis du Gaul had a fword of this name. Hirir is to strike: from hence it seems probable that Hiren may be derived ; and so signify a swashing, cutting sword. But what wonderful humour is there in the good hostess so innocently mistaking Pistol's drift, fancying that he meant to fight for a whore in the house, and therefore telling him, O my word, captain, there's none such bere; what the goodjer! do

you think, I would deny her ? THEOBALD.


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Hoft. O'my word, captain, there's none such here, What the good-jer? do you think I would deny her? I pray, be quiet.

Pijt. Then 2 feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis : come, give me some fack.

3 și fortuna me tormenta, Spero me contenta. Fear we broad fides ? no, let the fiend give fire : Give me some fack; and, sweet-heart, lye thou there.

[Laying down bis sword. 4 Come we to full points here; and are & cætera's no

thing? Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pift. 5 Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif. What! we have seen the seven stars.

Dol. ? — feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis :] This is a burlesque on a line in an old play called The Battel of Alcazar, &c. printed in 1594, in which Muley Mahomet enters to his wife with lyon's flesh on his sword:

• Feed then, and faint not, my faire Calypolis.” And again, in the same play,

" Hold thee, Calipolis, feed, and faint no more." The part of Pistol is almost made up of quotations from old absurd plays. This line is quoted in several of the old plays ; and Decker, in his Satiromofiix, 1602, has introduced Shakespeare's burlesque of it. STEEVENS.

3. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.] Sir Tho. Hanmer reads, “Si fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me contenta," which is undoubtedly the true reading, but perhaps it was intended that Pittol Mould corrupt it, JOHNSON.

Pifol is only a copy of Hannibal Gonfaga, who vaunted on yielding himself a prisoner, as you may read in an old collection of tales, called Wits, Fits, and Fancies.

" Si fortuna me tormenta

“ Il speranza me contenta.” And Sir Richard Hawkins, in his Voyage to the South Sea, 1593, throws out the fame gingling distich on the loss of his pinnace.

FARMER. 4 Come we to fill points here, &c.] That is, hall we stop here, mall we have no farther entertainment. Johnson.

S Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif.] i. e. I kiss thy fift. Mr. Pope will have it, that neif here is from nativa; i. e. a woman-flave that is born in one's house ; and that Pistol would kiss Falstaff's domestic mistress Dol Tear-fheet. THEOBALD.

Dol. Thrust him down stairs ! I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.

Pist. Thrust him down stairs ! know we noto galloway nags?

Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, 7 like a shovegroat shilling. Nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here.

Bard. Come, get you down stairs.

Pift. What, shall we have incision? shall we im-
brew ? then death
Rock me alleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the filters three! Come, Atropos, I say !

[Snatching up his sword.
Hoft. Here's goodly stuff toward !
Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.
Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
Fal. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing, and driving Pistol out. Hoft. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, before I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murther, I warrant now. Alas, alas, put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.

Nief, neif, and naf, are certainly law-terms for a womanslave. So in Tboroton's Antiq. of Nottinghamshire--" Every

naif or she-villain, that took a husband or committed forni“cation, paid marchet for redemption of her blood 5 s. and “ 4 d.”

I believe neif is here used for fift. It is still used in that sense in the northern counties, and by B. Jonson in his Poetafter.

“ Reach me thy neif.
Again, in The Witch of Edmonton, by Rowley.
« Oh, sweet Ningle, thy neif once again."

STEEVENS. 6 — galloway nags?] That is, common hackneys. Johns.

? - like a shove-groat fhilling.] This expreffion occurs in Every Man in his Humour, “ made it run as smooth off the " tongue as a shove-groat shilling." I suppose it to have been a piece of polished metal made use of in the play of shovel-board.


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Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you whorson, little valiant villain, you !

Hoft. Are you not hurt i’the groin ? methought he made a shrewd thrust at your belly. (Re-enter Bard.

Fal. Have you turn'd him out of doors ?

Bard. Yes, Sir, the rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, Sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal, to brave me!

Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'lt? Come, let me wipe thy face ;-come on, you whorson chops :-ah, rogue! I love thee-thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon ; and ten times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain !

Fal. A rascally nave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Dol. Do, if thou dar'st for thy heart: if thou do'st, I'll canvais thee between a pair of sheets.

Enter mufick. Page. The musick is come, Sir.

Fal. Let them play; play, Sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal, bragging Nave! the rogue Aed from me like quicksilver.

Doll. I'faith, and thou follow'd'It him like a church. Thou whorson 8 little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o’days, and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig,-) For tidy Sir Thomas Hanmer reads tiny ; but they are both words of endearment, and equally proper. Bartholomew boar-big is a little pig made of paite, fold at Bartholomew fair, and given to children for a fairing. JOHNSON,


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