Re-enter BARDOLPH, running.

Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door.

Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

Re-enter Hostess, hastily.

Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord! ———————

Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: What's the matter?+

Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house; Shall I let them in? Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold, a counterfeit; thou art essentially mad, without seeming so.

P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras5; - the rest walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, and

good conscience.

+ This speech Mr. Malone gives to prince Henry.

5

hide thee behind the arras;] The bulk of Falstaff made him not the fittest to be concealed behind the hangings, but every poet sacrifices something to the scenery. If Falstaff had not been hidden, he could not have been found asleep, nor had his pockets searched. JOHNSON.

When arras was first brought into England, it was suspended on small hooks driven into the bare walls of houses and castles. But this practice was soon discontinued; for after the damp of the stone or brickwork had been found to rot the tapestry, it was fixed on frames of wood at such a distance from the wall, as prevented the latter from being injurious to the former. In old houses, therefore, long before the time of Shakspeare, there were large spaces left between the arras and the walls, sufficient to contain even one of Falstaff's bulk. STEEVENS.

Fal. Both which I have had: but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me.

[Exeunt all but the Prince and POINS.

P. Hen. Call in the sheriff.

Enter Sheriff and Carrier.

Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me?
Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.

A

P. Hen. What men?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord; gross fat man.

Car.

As fat as butter.

P. Hen. The man, I do assure you, is not here; &
For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg❜d withal :
And so let me entreat you leave the house.

Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable; and so, farewell.

Sher. Good night, my noble lord.

P. Hen. I think it is good morrow; Is it not? Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. [Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, call him forth.

Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse.

6 The man, I do assure you, is not here;] Every reader must regret that Shakspeare would not give himself the trouble to furnish prince Henry with some more pardonable excuse; without obliging him to have recourse to an absolute falsehood, and that too uttered under the sanction of so strong an assurance.

P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: Search his pockets. [POINS searches.] What hast thou found? Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord.

P. Hen. Let's see what they be: read them.
Poins. Item, A capon, 2s. 2d.

Item, Sauce, 4d.

Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.

Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
Item, Bread, a halfpenny.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack! — What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning: we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelve-score." The money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins.

Poins. Good morrow, good my lord.

[Exeunt.

Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure, And our induction full of prosperous hope.

7

8

I know, his death will be a march of twelve score.] i. e. It will kill him to march so far as twelve-score yards.

8

induction] That is, entrance; beginning.

Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, —

Will you sit down?

And, uncle Worcester:- A plague upon it!

I have forgot the map.

Glend.

No, here it is.

Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur :
For by that name as oft as Lancaster

Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale; and, with
A rising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven.

Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears

Owen Glendower spoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity,
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets 9; and, at my birth,
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak'd like a coward.

Hot.
Why, so it would have done
At the same season, if your mother's cat had
But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born.
Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born.
Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose, as fearing you it shook.

Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,

And not in fear of your nativity.

Diseased nature1 oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth
Is with a kind of colick pinch'd and vex'd

• Of burning cressets;] A cresset was a great light set upon a bea. con, light-house, or watch-tower: from the French word croissette, a little cross, because the beacons had anciently crosses on the top of them.

1 Diseased nature-] The poet has here taken, from the perverseness and contrariousness of Hotspur's temper, an opportunity of raising his character, by a very rational and philosophical confutation of superstitious error. JOHNSON.

By the imprisoning of unruly wind

Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples2 down
Steeples, and moss-grown towers. At your birth,
Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
In passion shook.

Glend.

Cousin, of many men

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
To tell you once again, — that at my birth,
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes;
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
And all the courses of my life do show,

I am not in the roll of common men.

Where is he living, — clipp'd in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
And bring him out, that is but woman's son,
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,

And hold me pace in deep experiments.

Hot. I think, there is no man speaks better Welsh:I will to dinner.

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

Hot. Why, so can I; or so can any man: But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command The devil.

Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil.If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. Mort. Come, come,

No more of this unprofitable chat.

and topples down -] To topple is to tumble.