staff, and some of the dialogues in which she is engaged are diverting. Every scene in which Doll Tearsheet appears, is indecent; and therefore not only indefensible, but inexcusable."

After the foregoing quotation, my readers will not be surprised, if the name of the last-mentioned person is not to be found in the following plays. I hope that all obscenity is equally banished from them. I wish it were in my power in like manner to exclude every expression which approaches to vulgarity or indelicacy; but this I fear cannot be done, unless the whole of those scenes are omitted in which any of the comic characters appear. The present publication may possibly be censured by two classes of readers, of very different sentiments. Those persons who are unwilling to be deprived of any part of the wit of Falstaff (whatever may be the expense of retaining it), will perhaps be displeased at the omission of the evening scene between him and Doll Tearsheet, and their followers. To them I reply, that consistently with the design of the present edition of Shakspeare, the omission was unavoidable; but I regret it the less, because, as was suggested in my preface, those readers can gratify their taste by having recourse to former editions of the Second Part of Henry the IVth.

Other persons may possibly complain that there still remain in this work some expressions which are not consistent with that perfect delicacy of sentiment, with which it were desirable that every publication should be conducted. To this objection I fear that I can give no answer that will be quite satisfactory. I can only say, that I have endeavoured to render the speeches of Falstaff and his companions as correct as they could be rendered, without losing sight of their characters and dispositions. Those persons who still object to their language, cannot I believe do better than confine their reading to the serious parts of the three following plays, which possess such merit, as can hardly be equalled in any other dramatic poet, and is seldom exceeded by our own immortal bard.

ACT 1.

SCENE I.-LONDON. A Room in the Palace.

Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others.

King Henry. So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenc'd in stronds1 afar remote.
No more the thirsty Erinnys2 of this soil

Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,-
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,

Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way; and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,

(Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engag'd to fight,)

Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;

Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb
To chase these pagans, in those holy fields,
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet,
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd

For our advantage, on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you-we will go;
Therefore we meet not now:-Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,

1 Strands, banks of the sea.

2 The fury of discord.

What yesternight our council did decree
In forwarding this dear expedience.3

Westmoreland. My liege, this haste was hot in question, And many limits of the charge set down

4

But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,--that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered.

King Henry. It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil

Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

Westmoreland. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord;

For more uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north, and thus it did import.
On Holy-rood day," the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,

At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

King Henry. Here is a dear and true industrious friend,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each soil

Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;

And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.

The earl of Douglas is discomfited;

Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood, did sir Walter see

3 Expedition.

5 September 14.

4 Estimates.

Piled up in a heap.

On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son

To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.

And is not this an honourable spoil?

A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?

Westmoreland. It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. King Henry. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin

In envy that my lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son:

A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow

Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd,
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And call'd mine-Percy, his-Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts:-What think you, coz,
Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surpriz'd,
To his own use he keeps: and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife.

Westmoreland. This is his uncle's teaching, this 19
Worcester,

Malevolent to you in all aspects;

Which makes him prune' himself, and bristle up

The crest of youth against your dignity.

King Henry. But I have sent for him to answer

this;

And, for this cause, a while we must neglect

Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;

7 Trim, as birds clean their feathers.

For more is to be said, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be utter'd.
Westmoreland. I will, my liege.

SCENE II.-Another Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter HENRY Prince of WALES, and FALSTAFF. Falstaff. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

Prince Henry. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, I see no reason, why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

Falstaff. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phœbus,-he, that wandering knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,—as, save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,)

Prince Henry. What, none?

Falstaff. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

Prince Henry. Well, how then? roundly.

come, roundly,

Falstaff. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government: being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal.

Prince Henry. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swear