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Foretelling this fame time's condition,
War. There is a history in all mens' lives,
K. Henry. 6 Are these things then necessities?
War. It cannot be, my lord :
Unless on you.
5. And, by the necesary form of this,] I think we might better read,
The necessary form of things. The word this has no very evident antecedent. JOHNSON, • Are these things then necesities?
Then let us meet them like necessities :-) I am inclined to read,
Then let us meet them like necessity. That is, with the resistless violence of necessity; then comes more aptly the following line :
And that same word even now cries cut on us.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill;
K. İlenry. I will take your counsel :
Changes to justice Shallow's seat in Gloucestershire. Enier Shallow and Silence, justices; with Mouldy, Sba
dow, Wart, Feeble, and Bull-calf, Servants, &c.
Shal. Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, Sir: an early stirrer, 8 by the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence ?
Sil. Good morrow, good coufin Shallow.
Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bed-fellow? and your fairest daughter, and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?
Sil. Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow.
Shal. By yea and nay, Sir, I dare say, my cousin William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford still, is he not?
Sil. Indeed, Sir; to my cost.
Shal. He must then to the inns of court shortly. I was once of Clement’s Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.
unto the Holy Land.] This play, like the former, proceeds in one unbroken tenor through the first edition, and There is therefore no evidence that the division of the acts was made by the author. Since, then, every editor has the same right to mark the intervals of action as the players, who made the present distribution, I should propose that this scene may be added to the foregoing act, and the remove from London to Gloucestershire be made in the intermediate time, but that it would shorten the next act too much, which has not even now iti due proportion to the reit. JOHNSON. by the icod.) i. e. The cross. POPE.
Sil. You were call'd' lufty Shallow then, cousin.
Shal. I was callid any thing; and I would have done any thing, indeed, too, and roundly too.
There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black 9 George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and ! Will Squele a Cotswold man, you had not four such 2 swinge-bucklers in all the inns of court again : and, I may say to you, we knew where the Bona-roba's were; and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk.
Sil. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers ?
Shal. The fame Sir John, the very fame. I saw him break Skogan's head at the court-gate, when he was a crack, not thus high: and the very fame day I did fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's-Inn. · O the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead?
Sil. We shall all follow, cousin.
Shal. Certain, 'tis certain ; very sure, very sure, Death (as the Psalmist faith) is certain to all ; all fhall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair ?
George Bare,-) The quarto reads George Barres.
STEEVENS. Will Squele a Cotswold man, -] The games at Cotre wold were, in the time of our author, very famous. Of these I have seen accounts in several old pamphlets; and Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele as a Cotswold man, meant to have him understood to be one who was well versed in those exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit, and an athletic conititu tion. STEEVENS.
- swinge-bucklers-) Swinge-bucklers and frafa-bucklers were words implying rakes or rioters in the time of Shakespeare.
Nash, addrelling himself to his old opponent Gabriel Ilarvey, 1598, says, “ Turpe fenex miles, 'tis time for such an olde “ foole to leave playing the /wash-buckler.”
Su in The Devil's Charter, 1607, Caraffa says, -when “ I was a scholar in Padua, faith, then I could have swingida fword and buckler," &c. STEEVENS.
Sil. Truly, cousin, I was not there.
Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?
Sil. Dead, Sir.
Shal. Dead !- see, see!-he drew a good bow:and dead! -- he shot a fine shoot. John of Gaunt lov'd him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead !-he would have 3 clapp'd in the clout at twelve score, and carried you a fore-hand shaft a 4 fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see.-- How a score of ewes
Sil. Thereafter as they be. A score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.
Shal. And is old Double dead?
Enter Bardolph and Page, sil. Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.
Bard. 5 Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I beseech you, which is justice Shallow?
Shal. I am Robert Shallow, Sir; a poor esquire of this county, and one of the king's justices of the peace. What is your good pleasure with me?
Bard. My captain, Sir, commends him to you ; my captain Sir John Falstaff: a tall gentleman, by heaven! and a most gallant leader.
Shal. He greets me well, Sir: I knew him a good back-sword man.
How doth the good knight? may I ask how my lady his wife doth ?
clapp'd in the clout-] i.e. Hit the white mark.
WARBURTON. fourteen and fourteen and a half,–] That is, fourteen score of yards. JOHNSON.
$ Good morrow, &c.] The quarto gives this as well as the following line to Bardolph. The folio divides them between Shallowt nd Bardolph. I have followed the quarto.
Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife.
Shal. It is well said, Sir; and it is well said indeed too. Better accommodated!-- it is good; yea, indeed, is it: good phrases, surely, are, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated !- it comes of accommodo : 6 very good, a good phrase.
Bard. Pardon me, Sir; I have heard the word. Phrase, call you it? By this day, I know not the phrase: but I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated : or, when a man is, being whereby he may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.
Enter Falstaff. Sbal. It is very juft.-Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand, give me your worThip’s good hand. By my troth, you look well, and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John. Fal
. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow.--Master Sure-card, as I think
Shal. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.
every good, a good phrase.] Accommodate was a modish term of that time, as Ben Jonson informs us : “ You are not “ to cast or wring for the perfumed terms of the time, as ac“ commodation, complement, spirit, &c. but use them properly “ in their places as others.” Discoveries. Hence Bardolph calls it a word of exceeding good command. His definition of it is admirable, and highly fatirical: nothing being more common than for inaccurate speakers or writers, when they should define, to put their hearers off with a synonimous term; or, for want of that, even with the same term differently accommodated; as in the instance before us. WARBURTON. The same word occurs in Jonson's Every Man in his Humour,
“ Hostess, accommodate us with another bed-Itaff: