horses.

:

If I were faw'd into quantities, I fhould make four dozen of fuch bearded hermites-ftaves as mafter Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to fee the femblable coherence of his mens' spirits and his: they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish juftices; he, by converfing with them, is turn'd into a juftice-like fervingman. Their spirits are fo married in conjunction, with the participation of fociety, that they flock together in confent, like, fo many wild Geefe. If I had a fuit to mafter Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their mafter if to his men, I would curry with mafter Shallow, that no man could better command his fervants. It is certain, that either wife Bearing or ignorant Carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another : therefore let men take heed of their company.. I will dévise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Henry in continual laughter the wearing out of fix fashions, which is four terms or two actions, and he shall laugh without Intervallums. O, it is much, that a lie with a flight oath, and a jeft with a fad brow, will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his fhoulders. O, you shall see him laugh, till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up,

Shal. [within.] Sir John

Fal. I come, mafter Shallow; I come, mafter Shallow.

[Exit Falstaff.

SCENE changes to the Court, in London. Enter the Earl of Warwick and the Lord Chief Justice, War. TOW now, my lord Chief Juftice, whither

Haway?

Ch. Juft. How doth the King?

War. Exceeding well: his cares are now all ended. Ch. Juft. I hope, not dead?

War. He's walk'd the way of Nature;

And to our purposes he lives no more.

Ch. Juft. I would, his Majefty had call'd me with

him.

VOL. IV.

Μ

The

The fervice, that I truly did his life,
Hath left me open to all injuries.

War. Indeed, I think, the young King loves you not.
Ch. Juft. I know, he doth not; and do arm my self,
To welcome the condition of the time;
Which cannot look more hideously on me,
Than I have drawn it in my fantafie.

Enter Lord John of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Clarence,
War. Here come the heavy iffue of dead Harry:
O, that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worft of thefe three gentlemen:
How many Nobles then fhould hold their places,
That muft ftrike fail to fpirits of vile fort!

Ch. Juftice. Alas, I fear, all will be overturn'd.
Lan. Good morrow, coufin Warwick.

Glou. Clar. Good morrow, cousin.

Lan. We meet, like men that had forgot to speak. War. We do remember; but our argument

Is all too heavy to admit much Talk.

Lan. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

Ch. Juft. Peace be with us, left we be heavier ! Glou. O, good my lord, you've loft a friend indeed; And I dare fwear, you borrow not that face

Of feeming forrow; it is, fure, your own.

Lan. Tho' no man be affur'd what grace to find, You ftand in coldest expectation.

I am the forrier; 'would, 'twere otherwise.

Clar. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falflaff fair, Which fwims against your ftream of quality.

Ch. Fuft. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in Honour, Led by th' impartial conduct of my foul; And never shall you fee, that I will beg A ragged and forestall'd remiffion. If truth and upright innocency fail me, I'll to the King my mafter that is dead, And tell him who hath fent me after him. War. Here comes the Prince.

Enter

Enter Prince Henry...

Ch. Juft. Heav'n fave your Majesty !

K. Henry. This new and gorgeous garment, Majesty, Sits not fo eafie on me, as you think..

Brothers, you mix your fadness with fome fear :
This is the English, not the Turkish Court;
Not Amurath an Amurath fucceeds,

But Harry Harry. Yet be fad, good brothers,
For, to fpeak truth, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow fo royally in you appears,

That I will deeply put the fashion on,

And wear it in my heart. Why then, be fad ;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burthen laid upon us all.
For me by heav'n, I bid you be affur'd,
I'll be your father and your brother too :
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares:
Yet weep, that Harry's dead; and fo will I..
But Harry lives, that fhall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.

Lan. &c. We hope no other from your Majesty.
K. Henry. You all look ftrangely on me; and you most.
You are, I think, affur'd, I love you not.

[To the Ch. Juft. Ch. Juft. I am affur'd, if I be meafur'd rightly,

Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

K. Henry. No! might a Prince of my great hopes forget

So great indignities you laid upon me?

What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
Th' immediate heir of England! was this eafie?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?
Ch. Juft. I then did ufe the perfon of your father;
The image of his Power lay then in me:
And in th' adminiftration of his Law,
While I was bufie for the Common-wealth,
Your Highnefs pleafed to forget my Place,
The Majelty and Pow'r of Law and Justice,
The image of the King whom I presented;
M 2

And

And ftruck me in my very Seat of Judgment:
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,

;

And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the Garland,
To have a fon fet your decrees at nought:
To pluck down juftice from your awful bench
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and fafety of your perfon:
Nay more, to fpurn at your moft royal image,
And mock your working in a fecond body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the cafe yours;
Be now the father, and propofe a fon;
Hear your own dignity fo much prophan'd;
See your most dreadful laws fo loosely flighted ;-
Behold your felf fo by a fon difdain'd:
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your pow'r fo filencing your fon.
After this cold confid'rance, fentence me;
And as you are a King, speak in your State,
What I have done that misbecame my place,
My perfon, or my Liege's Sovereignty.

P. Henry. You are right Juftice, and you weigh this well,

Therefore still bear the balance and the sword:

And I do wish, your Honours may increase,
Till you do live to fee a fon of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did :
So fhall I live to speak my father's words:
Happy am I, that have a man fo bold,
That dares do juftice on my proper fon;
And no lefs happy, having fuch a fon,
• That would deliver up his Greatness so

Into the hand of justice. You committed me; For which I do commit into your hand

Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this remembrance, that you use the same
With a like bold, juft, and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand,
You fhall be as a father to my youth":

My

My voice shall found, as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will ftoop and humble my intents,

To your well-practis'd wife directions.

And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you;
My father is gone wild into his Grave, (18)
For in his tomb lye my affections;
And with his fpirit fadly I furvive,
To mock the expectations of the world;
To fruftrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, which hath writ me down
After my feeming. Tho' my tide of blood
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity 'till now;
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the fea,
Where it fhall mingle with the ftate of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal Majesty.
Now call we our high Court of Parliament;

(18) My Father is gone wail'd into bis Grave,

(For in bis Tomb lye my Affections)] This ridculous Reading (which, I prefume, is Mr. Pope's Conjecture, unfupported by Authorities, or Reafon;) is not only Nonsense in it felf, but is the Caufe that Nonfenfe poffeffes the following Verses. The Poet certainly wrote, as I have reftor'd with all the old Copies. "My Father, fays the Prince, is gone wild " into his Grave, for now all my wild Affections lye intomb'd "with him and I furvive, with his fober Spirit and Difpo"fition, to disappoint thofe Expectations the Publick have "form'd of me. This the Prince had refolv'd to do, upon his Father's Demife; as we have heard from his owr Mouth:

If I do feign,

O, let me in my prefent Wildness dye:

And never live to shew th' incredulous World

The noble Change that I have purposed!

That he did make this Change, we hear from the Archbishop in the Beginning of Henry V.

The Breath no fooner left bis Father's body,

But that his Wildness, mortified in him,
Seem'd to dye too...

These two Quotations very plainly affert our Poet's Reading, and are flagrant Teftimonies of Mr. Pope's unhappy Fatality in gueffing wrong.

·M 3

And