That frofts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first furvey the plot, then draw the model;
And when we fee the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the coft of the erection;
Which, if we find out-weighs ability,

What do we then but draw a-new the model
In fewer offices? at leaft, defift

To build at all? much more, in this great Work,
Which is almost to pluck a Kingdom down,
And fet another up, fhould we furvey
The plot of fituation, and the model;
Confent upon a fure foundation,

Question furveyors, know our own estate,
How able fuch a work to undergo,
To weigh against his oppofite; or elfe,
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Ufing the names of men inftead of men,
Like one that draws the model of a houfe
Beyond his pow'r to build it, who, half through,
Gives o'er, and leaves his part-created coft
A naked fubject to the weeping clouds,
And wafte for churlifh winter's tyranny.

Haft. Grant, that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, Should be still born, and that we now poffest

The utmost man of expectation,

I think, we are a body ftrong enough,

Ev'n as we are, to equal with the King.

[fand?

Bard. What, is the King but five and twenty thouHaft. To us, no more; nay, not fo much, lord Bardolph.

For his divifions, as the times do brawl,

Are in three heads; one Pow'r against the French,
And one against Glendower; perforce, a third
Muft take up us; fo is the unfirm King
In three divided; and his coffers found
With hollow poverty and emptiness.

[gether,

York. That he fhould draw his fev'ral ftrengths toAnd come against us in full puiffance,

Need not be dreaded.

Haft. If he fhould do fo3,

He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welf
Baying him at the heels; never fear That.

Bard. Who, is it like, fhould lead his forces hither?
Haft. The Duke of Lancaster, and Westmorland:
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:
But who is fubftituted 'gainst the French,
I have no certain notice.

York. Let us on;

And publish the occafion of our arms.

The Commonwealth is fick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath furfeited.

An habitation giddy and unfure

Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond Many! with what loud applaufe
Did'st thou beat heav'n with bleffing Bolingbroke,
Before he was, what thou would't have him be?
And now, being trim'd up in thine own defires,
Thou, beaftly feeder, art fo full of him,
That thou provok'ft thyfelf to caft him up.
So, fo, thou common dog, didst thou difgorge
Thy glutton bofom of the royal Richard,
And now thou would'st eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'ft to find it. What Truft is in these times?
They, that when Richard liv'd, would have him die,
Are now become enamour'd on his Grave;
Thou, that threw'ft duft upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came fighing on
After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,

Cry'st now, O Earth, yield us that King again,

5 If he should do fo,] This paffage is read in the firft editions thus: If he should do fo, French and Welsh he leaves his back unarm'd, they baying him at the heels, never fear that. Thefe lines, which were evidently printed from an interlined copy not understood, are properly

regulated in the next edition, and are here only mentioned to show what errors may be suspected to remain.

Let us on, &c.] This excellent fpeech of York was one of the paffages added by Shakepeare after his first Edition. POPE.

And

And take thou this. O thoughts of men accurft! Past and to come, feem beft; things prefent, worst. Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers and fet on? Haft. We are time's fubjects, and time bids, be gone. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I..

A Street in LONDON.

Enter Hoftefs, with two Officers, Phang and Snare.

HOSTES s.

R. Phang, have you enter'd the action?
Phang. It is enter'd.

MR

Ht. Where's your yeoman? is he a lufty yeoman? Will he ftand to it?

Phang. Sirrah, where's Snare?

Hoft. O Lord, ay, good Mr. Snare.
Snare. Here, here,

Phang. Snare, we muft arreft Sir John Falstaff.
Hoft. Ay, good Mr. Snare, I have enter'd him and

all.

Snare. It may chance coft fome of us our lives, for he will ftab.

Hoft. Alas-the-day! take heed of him; he ftab'd me in mine own house, and that most beastly; he cares not what mifchief he doth, if his weapon be out. He will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

Phang. If I can clofe with him, I care not for his thruft,

Hoft. No, nor I neither.I'll be at your elbow.

VOL. IV.

S

Phang,

Phang. If I but fift him once; if he come but within my vice.

Heft. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he is an infinitive thing upon my fcore. Good Mr. Phang, hold him fure; good Mr. Snare, let him not 'fcape. He comes continually to Pie corner, faving your manhoods, to buy a faddle: and he is indited to dinner to the Lubbars-head in Lombard-ftreet, to Mr. Smooth's the Silkman. I pray ye, fince my exion is enter'd, and my cafe fo openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his anfwer. A hundred mark is a long Lone, for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fub'd off, and fub'd off, from this day to that day, that it is a fhame to be thought on. There is no honefty in fuch dealing, unlefs a woman fhould be made an Afs and a beaft, to bear every knave's wrong.

Enter Falstaff, Bardolph, and the boy.

Yonder he comes, and that arrant malmfey-nofe knave Bardolph with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Mr. Phang and Mr. Snare, do me, do me, do me your

offices.

Fal. How now? whofe mare's dead? what's the matter?

Phang. Sir John, I arreft you at the fuit of Mrs. Quickly.

Fal. Away, varlets. Draw, Bardolph, cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the kennel.

Hot. Throw me in the kennel? I'll throw thee in the kennel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou baftardly rogue. Murder, murder! O thou 2 hony-fuckle villain, wilt thou kill God's officers and the King's? O thou hony-feed rogue! thou art a hony-feed, a man queller, and a woman-queller.

Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph.
Phang. A rescue, a rescue !

Hoft. Good people, bring a rescue or two;

3 thou

wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou? do, do, thou rogue, do, thou hemp-feed!

4

Fal. Away, you fcullion, you rampallian, you fuf tilarian: I'll tickle your catastrophe.

S CENE II.

Enter Chief Justice attended.

Ch. Juf. What's the matter? keep the peace here,

hoa!

Hoft. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, ftand to me.

Ch. Juf. How now, Sir John? what, are you brawling here?

Doth this become your place, your time, and business? You fhould have been well on your way to York.

2

Hony-fuckle villain-honyfeed rogue.] The landlady's corruption of homicidal and homicide. THEOBALD.

3 Thou wo't, wo't thou? &c] The first folio reads, I think, lefs properly, thou wilt not? thou wilt not?

S 2

4 Fal. Away, you Scullion.] This fpeech is given to the page in all the editions to the folio of 1654. It is more proper for Falstaff, but that the boy must not ftand quite filent and useless on the stage.

-Stand