All plum'd like Estridges, that with the wind I 2 His cuiffes on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, 3 And witch the world with noble horfemanship. Hot. No more, no more; worfe than the Sun in March, This praife doth nourish agues; let them come. the difficulty, but has yet left impropriety fufficient to make his reading questionable. I read, All furnish'd, all in arms, All plum'd like Eftridges that wing the wind Baited like Eagles. This gives a strong image. They were not only plum'd like EAtridges, but their plumes fluttered like thofe of an Eftridge on the wing mounting against the wind. A more lively reprefentation of young men ardent for enterprize perhaps no writer has ever given. I I faw young Harry, with his beaver ON.] We should read, beaver Up. It is an impropriety to fay on: For the beaver is only the vifiere of the Helmet, which, let down, covers the face. When the foldier was not upon action he wore it up, fo that his face might be feen (hence Vernon fays he faw young Harry.) But when upon action, it was let down to cover and fecure, the face. Hence in the fecond part of Henry IV it is faid, Their armed faves in charge, their beavers down. WARBURTON. There is no need of all this note, for beaver may be a helmet; or the prince, trying his armour, might wear his beaver down. 2 His cuiffes on his thighs,-] Cuiffes, French, armour for the thighs. POPE. The reason why his cuiffes are fo. particularly mentioned, I conceive to be, that his horfemanfhip is here praifed, and the cuifJes are that part of armour which mot hinders a horfeman's activity. 3 And witch the world-] For bewitch, charm. 04 POPE. They They come like Sacrifices in their trim, Ver. There is more news: I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, Hot. Forty let it be; My father and Glendower being both away, Harry to Harry hall, hot borje to horse, Meet, and ne'er part.] This reading I have reftored from the first edition. The fecond edition in 1622, reads, mer, who, juftly remarking the Harry to Harry fall, and Harry to Harry hall, not horfe But the unexampled expreffion to borse, Meet, and ne'er part. which has been followed by all the criticks except Sir Tho. Han of meeting to, for meeting with or fimply meeting, is yet left, The ancient reading is furely right. SCENE Fal. Ardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of fack. B Our foldiers fhall march through; we'll to Sutton-cold-field to-night. Bard. Will you give me mony, captain ? Fal. Lay out, lay out. Bard. This bottle makes an angel. Fal. And if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll anfwer the coynage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end. Bard. I will, captain; farewel. [Exit. Fal. If I be not afham'd of my foldiers, I am a • fouc'd gurnet. I have mif-us'd the King's Prefs damnably; I have got, in exchange of an hundred and fifty foldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I prefs me none but good houfholders, yeomens fons; enquire me out contracted batchelors, fuch as had been afk'd twice on the banes; fuch a commodity of warm flaves, as had as lieve hear the devil, as a drum; fuch as fear the report of a culverin, worse than a ftruck fowl, or a hurt wild duck. I prefs me none but fuch *Lieutenant Peto.] This paffage proves that Peto did not go with the prince. 5 Souc'd gurnet.] I believe a forced gurnet is a pickled anchovy. Much of Falfaff's humour confifts in comparing himself to fomewhat little. 6 Worfe than a ftruck fowl, or a burt wild duck.] The repetition of the fame image difpofed Sir Tho. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, to read, in op 6 1 toafts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their fervices. And now my whole Charge confifts of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, flaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the Glutton's dogs licked his fores; and fuch as indeed were never foldiers, but difcarded unjuft fervingmen, younger fons to younger brothers; revolted tapfters, and oftlers-trade-fall'n, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace; ten times more difhonourably 8 7 Younger fons to younger brothers; Raleigh, in his difcourfe on war, ufes this very expreffion for men of defperate fortune and wild adventure. Which borrowed it from the other I know not, but I think the play was printed before the difcourfe. ४ ten times more difhonou rably ragged than an old-fac'd Antient.] Shakespeare ufes this Word fo promifcuously, to fignify an Enfign or Standard bearer, and alfo the Colours or Standard borne, that I cannot be at a Certainty for his Allufion here. If the Text be genuine, I think, the Meaning muft be; as difhonourably ragged as one that has Been an Enfign all his days; that has let Age creep upon him, and never had Merit enough to gain Preferment. Mr. Warburton, who understands it in the Second ConAruction, has fufpected the Text, and given the following ingenious Emendation. "How " is an old-fac'd Ancient, or En"fign, difhonourably ragged? "On the contrary, Nothing is "eiteemed more honourable "than a lagged Pair of Colours. "A very little Alteration will ragged, than an old-feaft ancient; and fuch have I to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their fervices; that you would think, I had a hundred and fifty tatter'd Prodigals, lately come from fwine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and preft the dead bodies. No eye hath feen fuch fkare-crows: I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had' gyves on; for, indeed, I had the most of them out of prifon. There's but a fhirt and half in all my company; and the half-fhirt is two napkins tack'd together, and thrown over the fhoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the fhirt, to fay the truth, ftoll'n from my Hoft of St. Albans; or the red-nos'd Inn keeper of Daintry. But that's all one, they'll find linen enough on every hedge. Enter Prince Henry, and Weftmorland. P. Henry. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal?-How now, mad wag, what a devil doft thou in Warwickshire ?-My good lord of Weftmorland, I cry you mercy; I thought, your Honour had already been at Shrewsbury. Weft. 'Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that, I were there, and you too; but my Powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all to night. Fal. Tut, never fear me, I am as vigilant, as a Cat to steal cream. K. Henry. I think, to fteal cream, indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whofe fellows are thefe that come after? Fal. Mine, Hal, mine. K. Henry. I did never fee fuch pitiful rafeals. gyves on ;]. hackles. РОРЕ. Fal. |