1

Bard. Would I were with him wherefome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell.

Quick. Nay, fure he's not in hell; he's in Arthur's bofom, if ever man went to Arthur's bofom. He made a finer end, and went away an' it had been any Christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' th' tide for after I faw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers' end, I knew there was but one way; for his nofe was as fharp as a pen *. How now, Sir John? quoth I: what, man, be of good cheer: so a' cried out, God, God, God, three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him, a' fhou'd not think of God; I hop'd there was no need to trouble himself with any fuch thoughts yet: fo a' bade me lay more cloaths on his feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as a ftone: then I felt to his knees, and fo upward, and upward; and all was cold as any tone.

Nym. They fay he cried out of fack.

Quick. Ay, and that a' did.

Boy. And of women.

Quick. Nay, that a' did not.

Boy. Yes, that he did; and faid they were devils incarnate.

Quick. A' could never abide carnation, 'twas a colour he never lik'd.

Boy. He faid once, the deule would have him about

women.

Quick He did in fome fort, indeed, handle women; but then he was rheumatic, and talk'd of the whore of Babylon.

Boy. Do you not remember he saw a flea stick upon

These words, and a table of green fields, though inferted in all the fubfequent editions after the word pen, are not to be found in the old editions of 16c0 and 1608. This nonfenfe got into all these editions by a pleasant mistake of the ftage-editors, who printed from the common piece meal written parts in the play-house. A table was here directed to be brought in (it being a fcene in a tavern where they drink at parting), and this direction crept into the text from the margin. Greenfield was the name of the property-man in that time, who furhi'd implements, &, for the actors. A table of Greenfield's. Mr. Pope.

Bardolph's

Bardolph's nofe, and faid it was a black foul burning

in hell?

Bard. Well, the fewel is gone that maintain'd that fire: that's all the riches I got in his fervice.

Nym. Shall we fhogg? the King will be gone from Southampton.

Pift. Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips: Lock to my chattels, and my moveables;

Let fenfes rule; the word is, pitch and

pay;

Trust none, for oaths are ftraws; mens' faiths are wafer-cakes,

And hold-faft is the only dog, my duck,
Therefore Caveto be thy counsellor.

Go, clear thy cryftals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
Let us to France; like horfe-leeches, my boys;
To fuck, to fuck, the very blood to fuck.

Boy. And that's but unwholesome food, they say.
Pift. Touch her foft mouth and march.

Bard. Farewel, hoftefs.

Come!

Nym. I cannot kifs, that is the humour of it; but adieu.

Pift. Let housewifery appear; keep clofe, I thee command.

Quick. Farewel; adieu.

[Exeunt.

IV.

Changes to the French King's palace.

Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Duke of Burgundy, and the Conftable.

Fr. King. Thus come the English with full power upAnd more than carelessly it us concerns

To answer royally in our defences.

[on us,

Therefore the Dukes of Berry and of Bretagne,
Of Brabant and of Orleans, fhall make forth,
And you, Prince Dauphin, with all fwift difpatch;
To line and new repair our towns of war,

With men of courage, and with means defendant.
For England his approaches makes as fierce,
As waters to the fucking of a gulph.

It fits us then to be as provident

As

As fear may teach us out of late examples,
Left by the fatal and neglected English
Upon our fields.

Dau. My moft redoubted father,

It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe:

For peace itfelf fhould not fo dull a kingdom,
(Though war nor no known quarrel were in queftion),
But that defences, muiters, preparations,

Should be maintain'd, affembled, and collected,
As were a war in expectation.

Therefore, I fay, 'tis ineet we all go forth,
To view the fick and feeble parts of France:
And let us do it with no fhew of fear;

No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were bufied with a Whitfon morris-dance:
For, my good Liege, fhe is fo idly king'd,
Her fceptre fo fantastically borne,

By a vain, giddy, fhallow, humorous youth,
That fear attends her not.

Con. O peace, Prince Dauphin!

You are too much mistaken in this King.
Queftion your Grace the late ambaffadors,
With what great ftate he heard their embaffy;
How well fupply'd with noble counsellors,
How modeft in exception, and withal
How terrible in conftant refolution:

And
you
fhall find, his vanities fore-spent
Were but the out-fide of the Roman Brutus,
Covering difcretion with a coat of folly;
"As gardners do with ordure hide thofe roots
"That fhall firft fpring and be most delicate *.
Dau. Well, 'tis not fo, my Lord High Constable.
But tho' we think it fo, it is no matter:

In caufes of defence, 'tis beft to weigh

Shakespear not having given us, in the first or second part of Henry IV, or in any other place but this, the remoteft hint of the circumitance here alluded to, the comparifon must needs be a little obfcure to those who don't know to reflect, that fome hiftorians have told us, that Henry IV. had entertained a deep jealoufy of his fom's atpiring fuperior genius Therefore, to prevent all umbrage, the Prince withdrew from public affairs, and amufed himself in conforting with a diffolute crew of robbers. Mr. Warburton,

The

The enemy more mighty than he feems;
So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
Which of a weak and niggardly projection,
Doth, like a mifer, spoil his coat with scanting
A little cloth.

Fr. King. Think we King Harry strong;

And, Princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
The kindred of him hath been flefh'd upon us;
And he is bred out of that bloody ftrain,
That hunted us in our familiar paths:
Witnefs-our too much memorable shame,
When Creffy battle fatally was ftruck;
And all our princes captiv'd by the hand

Of that black name, Edward black Prince of Wales:
While that his mounting fire, on mountain standing,
[Up in the air, crown'd with the golden fun, *]
Saw his heroic feed, and fmil'd to fee him
Mangle the work of nature, and deface

The patterns that by God and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made. This is a ftem
Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him †.
Enter a Messenger.

Me. Ambaffadors from Harry King of England, Do crave admittance to your Majefty.

Fr. King. We'll give them prefent audience. Go and bring them.

You fee this chace is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau. Turn head and stop pursuit; for coward dogs Moft fpend their mouths, when what they seem to

threaten

Runs far before them. Good my Sovereign,

Take up the English fhort; and let them know
Of what a monarchy you are the head.
Self-love, my Liege, is not fo vile a fin,
As felf-neglecting.

SCENE V. Enter Exeter.
Fr. King. From our brother England?

* A nonfenfical line of fome player.

i. e. fortune and condition of his houfe or family.

Exe. From him; and thus he greets your Majefty.
He wills you in the name of God Almighty,
That you diveft yourself, and lay apart

The borrow'd glories, that, by gift of heaven,
By law of nature and of nations, 'long

To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown,
And all the wide-fretch'd honours that pertain,
By cuftom and the ordinance of times,

Unto the crown of France. That you may know, 'Tis no finifter nor no aukward claim,

Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the duft of old oblivion rak'd,
He fends you this most memorable line,
In every branch truly demonftrative,

[Gives the French King a paper
Willing you over-look his pedigree;
And when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his moft fam'd of famous anceflors,
Edward the Third; he bids you then refign
Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
From him the native and true challenger.
Fr. King. Or elfe what follows?

Exe. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown Ev'n in your hearts, there will he rake for it. And therefore in fierce tempeft is he coming, In thunder, and in earthquake, like a Jove; That, if requiring fail, he may compel. He bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, Deliver up the crown; and to take mercy On the poor fouls, for whom this hungry war Opens his vafty jaws; upon your head Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, The dead mens' blood, the pining maidens' groans, For hulbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers, That fhall be fwallow'd in this controverty. This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my meffage; Unless the Dauphin be in prefence here,

To whom exprefsly I bring greeting too.

Fr. King. For us, we will confider of this further: To-morrow fhall you bear our full intent

Back to our brother England.

Dau For the Dauphin,

VOL. IV.

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