a drawn fox"; and for womanhood, maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go.

Deadly Sinnes of London, 1606: "Nay, the sober Perpetuanasuited Puritane, that dares not (so much as by moone-light) come neare the suburb shadow of a house where they set stewed prunes before you, raps as boldly at the hatch, when he knows Candlelight is within, as if he were a new chosen constable."

The passages already quoted are sufficient to show that a dish of stewed prunes was not only the ancient designation of a brothel, but the constant appendage to it.

From A Treatise on the Lues Venerea, written by W. Clowes, one of her majesty's surgeons, 1596, and other books of the same kind, it appears that prunes were directed to be boiled in broth for those persons already infected; and that both stewed prunes and roasted apples were commonly, though unsuccessfully, taken by way of prevention. So much for the infidelity of stewed prunes. STEEVENS.

Mr. Steevens has so fully discussed the subject of stewed prunes, that one can add nothing but the price. In a piece called Banks's Bay Horse in a Trance, 1595, we have a stock of wenches, set up with their stewed prunes, nine for a tester."

5

FARMER.

a drawn fox ;] A drawn for may be a fox drawn over the ground, to exercise the hounds. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Tamer Tamed:

Mr. Heath observes, that "a fox drawn over the ground to leave a scent, and exercise the hounds, may be said to have no truth in it, because it deceives the hounds, who run with the same eagerness as if they were in pursuit of a real fox."

I am not, however, confident that this explanation is right. It was formerly supposed that a fox, when drawn out of his hole, had the sagacity to counterfeit death, that he might thereby obtain an opportunity to escape. For this information I am indebted to Mr. Tollet, who quotes Olaus Magnus, lib. xviii. cap. xxxix. : Insuper finget se mortuam," &c. This particular and many others relative to the subtilty of the fox, have been translated by several ancient English writers. STEEVENS.

6

MAID MARIAN may be, &c.] Maid Marian is a man dressed like a woman, who attends the dancers of the morris.

JOHNSON.

In the ancient Songs of Robin Hood frequent mention is made of maid Marian, who appears to have been his concubine. I could quote many passages in my old MS. to this purpose, but shall produce only one :

on.

HOST. Say, what thing? what thing?

FAL. What thing? why, a thing to thank God

HOST. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

FAL. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

HOST. Say, what beast, thou knave thou?

"Good Robin Hood was living then,

"Which now is quite forgot,

"And so was fayre maid marian," &c. PERCY.

It appears from the old play of The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601, that maid Marian was originally a name assumed by Matilda the daughter of Robert Lord Fitzwater, while Robin Hood remained in a state of outlawry:

"Next 'tis agreed (if therto shee agree)

"That faire Matilda henceforth change her name;
"And while it is the chance of Robin Hoode
"To live in Sherewodde a poore outlawes life,
"She by maide Marian's name be only call'd.

"Mat. I am contented; reade on, little John:
"Henceforth let me be nam'd maide Marian."
This lady was poisoned by King John at Dunmow Priory, after
he had made several fruitless attempts on her chastity. Drayton
has written her legend.

Shakspeare speaks of maid Marian in her degraded state, when she was represented by a strumpet or a clown.

See Figure 2, in the plate at the end of this play, with Mr. Tollet's observation on it. STEEVENS.

Maid Marian seems to have been the lady of a Whitsun-ale, or morris-dance. The Widow, in Sir W. D'Avenant's Love and Honour, (p. 247,) says: "I have been Mistress Marian in a Maurice ere now." Morris is, indeed, there spelt wrong; the dance was not so called from prince Maurice, but from the Spanish morisco, a dancer of the morris or moorish dance.

HAWKINS.

There is an old piece entitled, Old Meg of Herefordshire for a Mayd-Marian, and Hereford Town for a Morris-dance; or 12 Morris-dancers in Herefordshire, of 1200 Years old. Lond. 1609, quarto. It is dedicated to one Hall, a celebrated Tabourer in that country. T. WARTON.

A reprint of it was published by Mr. Triphook in 1816.

BOSWELL.

FAL. What beast? why an otter.

P. HEN. An otter, sir John! why an otter? FAL. Why? she's neither fish nor flesh '; a man knows not where to have her.

HOST. Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou!

P. HEN. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.

HOST. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day, you ought him a thousand pound.

P. HEN. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? FAL. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. HOST. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would cudgel you.

FAL. Did I, Bardolph ?

BARD. Indeed, sir John, you said so.

FAL. Yea; if he said, my ring was copper.

P. HEN. I say, 'tis copper: Darest thou be as good as thy word now?

FAL. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare: but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.

P. HEN. And why not, as the lion.

FAL. The king himself is to be feared as the lion Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God, my girdle break!

:

7 - neither fish, nor flesh;] So, the proverb: "Neither fish nor flesh, nor good red herring." STEEVENS.

8

- I pray God, my girdle break !] Alluding to the old adage -"ungirt, unblest." Thus, in The Phantastick Age, bl. 1. an ancient ballad :

?

ACT

a man

thou

nave

slan

this

d?

thy

Said

as

ut

IS

P. HEN. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine; it is filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent, embossed rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of sugar-candy to make thee long winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain'. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong2: Art thou not ashamed?

FAL. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? Thou seest, I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.--You confess then, you picked my pocket?

P. HEN. It appears so by the story.

Perhaps this ludicrous imprecation is proverbial. So, in 'Tis Merry when Gossips Meet, a poem, 4to. 1609:

"How say'st thou, Besse? shall it be so, girle? speake: "If I make one, pray God my girdle break!" STEEVENS. This wish had more force formerly than at present, it being once the custom to wear the purse hanging by the girdle; so that its breaking, if not observed by the wearer, was a serious matter. MALONE.

JOHNSON.

9 impudent, EMBOSSED rascal,] Embossed is swoln, puffy. So, in King Lear:

I

"A plague-sore, or embossed carbuncle." STEEVens. if thy pocket were enriched with any other INJURIES but these, &c.] As the pocketing of injuries was a common phrase, I suppose, the Prince calls the contents of Falstaff's pocket-injuries. STEEVENS.

2- you will not pocket up wrong:] Some part of this merry dialogue seems to have been lost. I suppose Falstaff in pressing the robbery upon his hostess, had declared his resolution not to pocket up wrongs or injuries, to which the Prince alludes.

JOHNSON.

FAL. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest, I am pacified.-Still? -Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Erit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,— How is that answered?

P. HEN. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee:-The money is paid back again. FAL. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour.

P. HEN. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

FAL. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too 3.

BARD. Do, my lord.

P. HEN. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of

foot.

3

FAL. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall

do it with UNWASHED HANDS too.] i. e. do it immediately, or the first thing in the morning, even without staying to wash your hands.

So, in The More the Merrier, a collection of Epigrams, 1608: as a school-boy dares

66

"Fall to ere wash'd his hands, or said his prayers." Perhaps, however, Falstaff alludes to the ancient adage :-" Illotis manibus tractare sacra." I find the same expression in Acolastus, a comedy, 1540: "Why be these holy thynges to be medled with with unwashed hands?" STEEVENS.

I cannot accede to this explanation. It appears to me, that Falstaff means to say, do it without retracting, or repenting of it. When a man is unwilling to engage in a business proposed to him, or to go all lengths in it, it is a common expression to say,I wash my hands of it: and in the Gospel of St. Matthew, we find that when Pilate was forced to condemn Christ by the tumult of the multitude, "he took water, and washed his hands, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person." And in King Richard III. the second Murderer says:

a bloody deed!

"How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands

"Of this most grievous guilty murder done." M. MASON.