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We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God fo graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treafon lurking in our way,
To hinder our beginning. Now we doubt not,
But every rub is fmoothed in our way:
Then forth, dear countrymen; let us deliver
Our puiffance into the hand of God,
Putting it ftrait in expedition.

Chearly to fea; the figns of war advance;
No King of England, if not King of France.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Quickly's house in Eaftcheap.

Enter Pistol, Nim, Bardolph, Boy, and Quickly.

Quick.

R'ythee, honey-fweet husband, let me bring

Pistol. No, for my manly heart doth yern.
Bardolph, be blith: Nim, rouze thy vaunting veins :
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we muft yern therefore.

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 juft between twelve and one, even at the turning o'th' tide: For after I faw him fumble with the fheets, and play with flowers, and fmile upon his finger's end, I knew there was but one way; for (18) his nofe was as fharp as a pen, and a' babled of green fields. How now, Sir John? quoth I: what,

man?

(18) His Nofe was as sharp as a Pen, and a Table of green fields.] So the first Folio. Mr. Pope has obferv'd, that these Words, and a Table of green fields, are not in the old 4to's. This Nonfenfe, (continues He,) got into all the following Editions by a pleasant Miftake of the Stage-Editors, who printed from the common peacemeal-written Parts in the Play-house. A Table was here directed to be brought in (it being a Scene 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

furnished.

man? be of good cheer: fo 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' bad me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as a stone: then I felt to his knees, and fo upward, and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

Nim. They fay, he cried out of fack.
Quick, Ay, that a' did.

Bard. And of women.

Quick. Nay, that a' did not.

Furnish'd Implements, &c. for the Actors. A Table of Greenfield's.. As to the Hiftory of Greenfield being then Property-man, whether it was really fo, or it be only a gratis dictum, is a Point which I shall not contend about. But were we to allow this marginal Direction, and fuppofe that a Table of Greenfield's was wanting; yet it never was cuftomary in the Promptor's Book, (much lefs, in the peacemeal Parts ;) where any fuch Directions are marginally inferted for Properties or Implements wanted, to add the Property-man's Name, whofe Bufinefs it was to provide them. Befides, the furnishing Chairs and Tables is not the Province of the Property-man, but of the Scene-keepers. But there is a ftronger Objection yet againft this Observation advanced by the Editor. He feems to imagine, that when Implements are wanted in any Scene, the Direction for them is mark'd in the middle of that Scene, though the Things are to be got ready against the Beginning of it. But the Direc tions for Entrances and Properties wanting, ('tis well known,) are always mark'd in the Book at about a Page in Quantity before the Actors quoted are to enter, or the Properties to be used; that the Stage may not stand ftill. And therefore, Greenfield's Table can be of no Ufe to us for this Scene. Nor, indeed, is any Table requifite. The Scene, 'tis true, is in a Tavern; but the Company have no Bufinefs to fit down. There is not the leaft Intimation of any Drink going round: It is in Piftol's own House, as he had married Quickly he and his Comerades are on their Feet, and juft fetting out for France. The Defcription of Falstaffe's Death, and what he talk'd of, is the only Thing that retards them for a few Minutes: after which they kiss their Hoftefs, and part. The Conjectural Emendation I have given, is fo near to the Traces of the Letters in the corrupted Text; that I have ventur'd to infert it as the genuine Reading. It has certainly been obferv'd (in particular, by the Superftition of Women ;) of People near Death, when they are delirious by a Fever, that they talk of removing as it has of Those in a Calenture, that they have their heads run on green Fields. To bable, or babble, is to mutter, or fpeak_indiscriminately; like Children, that cannot yet talk; or like dying Persons, when they are losing the Ufe of Speech.

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

carnate.

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 rheumatick, and talk'd of the whore of Babylon.

Boy. Do you not remember, he faw a Flea ftick upon Bardolph's nofe, and said, it was a black foul burning in hell?

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

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

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

Let fenfes rule; the word is, pitch and pay;

Truft none, for oaths are ftraws; men's 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 unwholfome food, they fay.
Pift. Touch her soft mouth and march.

Bard. Farewel, hostess.

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

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

Quick. Farewel; adieu.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to the French King's Palace.

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

Fr. King. T

HUS come the English with full power

upon us,

And more than carefully it us concerns

To answer royally in our defences.

Therefore the Dukes of Berry, and of Britain,
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 gulf.

It fits us then to be as provident,

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 it felf fhould not fo dull a Kingdom,

(Though war, nor no known quarrel, were in question)

But that defences, mufters, preparations,

Should be maintain'd, affembled, and collected,

As were a war in expectation.

Therefore, I say, 'tis meet 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 fcepter fo fantastically born,

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:
Question your Grace the late ambassadors,
Vol. IV.

C

With

With what great ftate he heard their embaffie;
How well fupply'd with noble counsellors,
How modeft in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution:
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 gardeners do with ordure hide those roots,
That fhall firft fpring and be moft 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
The enemy more mighty than he seems;
So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
Which of a weak and niggardly projection,
Doth, like a mifer, fpoil his coat with scanting
A little cloth.

Fr. King. Think we King Harry ftrong;

And, Princes, look, you ftrongly arm to meet him.
The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
And he is bred out of that bloody ftrain,
That haunted us in our familiar paths:
Witness our too much memorable fhame,
When Creffy-battel 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, (19)

(19) While that his mountain Sire, on mountain ftanding,] But why mountain Sire? The French King does not mean to fay any thing derogatory, or fcoffingly of King Edward the Third; as Fluellin afterwards, in this Play, as a Welchman, is ftyl'd Mountain-Squire: nor is the Size, or Stature of King Edward alluded to, as if he had been inftar Montis. I have no Doubt, but our Author intended mounting Sire, i. e. highminded, afpiring. In this Senfe, in the first Act, the Archbishop of Canterbury feems to be speaking of this Prince.

While his moft mighty Father on a hill, &c.

And the Epithet, mounting, our Poet has more than once employ'd in thefe Significations.

So in Love's Labour loft;

Who e'er he was, he fhew'd a mounting Mind.

And in King John.

But this is worshipful Society;

And fits the mounting Spirit like My felf:

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