P. Henky I fhall drive you then to confefs the wilful abuse, and then I know how to handle you. Fal. No abufe, Hal, on my honour, no abuse. P. Henry, Not to difpraise me, and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abufe, Hal. Poins. No abuse! Fal. No abufe, Ned, in the world, honeft Ned, none. I difprais'd him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and a true fubject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abufe, Hal, none, Ned, none; no, boys, none. ·P. Henry. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardise doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentle woman to clofe with us? Is he of the wicked? is thine Hostess here of the wicked? or is the boy of the wicked or honeft Bardolph, whofe zeal burns in his nofe, of the wicked? Point Anwer, thou dead Elm, anfwer. Fal The fiend hath prickt down Bardolph irrecoverable, and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roaft mault-worms: for the boy, there is a good angel about him, but the devil-out-bids him too da P. Henry. For the women? Fal. For one of them, he is in hell already, and burns poor fouls: for the other, I owe her money; and whether the be damn'd for that, I know not. Hosts Not warrant you. Fal No, think, thou art not: I think, thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for fuffering flesh to be eaten in thy houfe, contrary to the law, for the which I think thou wilt howl. Som Hoft. All victuallers do for what is a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? P. Henry. You, gentlewoman, sologji Yan Fal. His Grace faysThat, which his flesh rebels againft. MI Hoft. Hoft. Who knocks fo loud at door? look to the door there, Francis, Enter Peto. P. Henry. Peto, how now? what news? Bare-headed, fweating, knocking at the taverns, P. Henry. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time; When tempeft of commotion, like the South Give me my fword, and cloak: Falstaff, good night. Fal. Now comes in the fweeteft morfel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpickt. More knocking at the door? how now? what's the matter? Bard. You muft away to Court, Sir, prefently: a dozen captains stay at door for you, son Fal. Pay the musicians, Sirrah: farewel, Hoftefs; farewel, Dol. You fee, my good wenches, how men of merit are fought after; the undeferver may fleep, when the man of action is call'd on. Farewel, good wenches', if I be not fent away poft, I will fee you again, ere I go, Dol. I cannot fpeak; if my heart be not ready to burft well, fweet Jack, have a care of thy felf. Fal. Farewel, farewel 711 [Exit. Hoft. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee thefe twenty nine years, come pefcod-time; but an honefter and truer-hearted manwell, fare thee well. Bard. Mrs. Tear-fheet, Hoft. What's the matter?om Bard. Bid Mistress Tear-fheet come to my mafter. Hoft. O run, Dol, run, run, good Dol. [Exeunt. Iiz ACT ACT III. SCENE, the Palace in LONDON. Enter King Henry in his Night-gown, with a "Page. G K. HENRY. O, call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick; But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read thefe letters, And well confider of them: make good speed. [Exit Page. How many thousands of my pooreft Subjects And huht with buzzing night-flies to thy flumber; And lull'd with founds of fweeteft melody? Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Το To the wet fea-boy in an hour fo rude? Deny it to a King? then happy low! lye down; (22) Uneafie lyes the head, that wears a Crown. Enter Warwick and Surrey. War. Many good morrows to your Majefty, War. 'Tis one o' clock, and past. K. Henry. (23) Why, then, good morrow to you. Well, my lords, Have you read o'er the letters that I fent you? K. Henry. Then you perceive the body of our Kingdom, How foul it is; what rank difeafes grow, My lord Northumberland will foon be cool'd. K. Henry, Oh heav'n, that one might read the book of fate, And fee the revolution of the times (22) then happy low ! lye down; Uneafie lyes the head, &c.] Tho' I have not disturb'd the Text, Mr. Warburton thinks, Shakespeare would not have used fo poor a Re, petition as lye down and uneafie lyes. He therefore conjectures Then happy, lowly Clown! Uneafie lyes the Head, that wears a Crown. This, fays He, is the juft Conclufion from all faid before. If Sleep will fly a King, and confort it felf with Beggars, then happy the lowly Clawn, and unealy the crown'd Head. (23) Why then good morrow to you all, my Lord's: Have you read o'er, &c.] I muit account for the Change I have ventur'd at here. In the preceding Page the King fends Letters to Surrey and Warwick, with Charge that they should read them and attend him. Accordingly here Surrey and Warwick come, and no body else, in Obedience to that Summons. The King would hardly have faid Good morrow to You All, to two Peers, and no more. My Emendati on wants no further Support, than This naked Stating of the Cafe, Ti Make Make Mountains level, and the Continent, Too wide for Neptune's hips: how Chances mock, With divers liquors! O, if this were feen, Wou'd fhut the book, and fit him down and die. Since Richard and Northumberland, great Friends, [To Warwick. That I and Greatness were compell'd to kifs :) War. There is a hiftory in all men's lives, Such |