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Welcome, my little tiny thief; [to the Page.] and land, 'tis thine.-Pistol, 1 will double-charge thee welcome, indeed, too. I'll drink to master Bar-with dignities.

dolph, and to all the cavaleroes about London.
Dary. I hope to see London once ere I die.
Bard. An might see you there, Davy,—

Shul. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together.
Ha! will you not, master Bardolph ?
Bard. Yes, sir, in a pottle pot.

Bard. O joyful day!-I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

Pist. What? I do bring good news?

Fal. Carry master Silence to bed.-Master Shallow, my lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am fortune's steward. Get on thy boots: we'll ride all night: Shal. I thank thee:-The knave will stick by thee,--O, sweet Pistol :-Away, Bardolph. [Exit BARD.]

I can assure thee that he will not out; he is true bred. —Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and, withal, deBurd. And I'll stick by him, sir. vise something, to do thyself good.-Boot, boot, Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: bemaster Shallow: I know the young king is sick for merry. [Kocking heard. Look who's at door there: me. Let us take any man's horses; the laws of EngHo! who knocks? [Exit DAVY. land are at iny commandment. Happy are they which Fal. Why, now you have done me right. have been my friends; and woe to my lord chief [To SILENCE, who drinks a bumper. justice! Do me right, [Singing. And dub me knight:

Sil.

Is't not so?

Fal. "Tis so.

Samingo.

Sil. Is 't so? Why, then say, an old man can do somewhat.

Re-enter DAVY.

Pist. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also
Where is the life that late I led, say they;
Why, here it is; Welcome these pleasant days.

SCENE IV.-London. A Street.

[Exeunt.

Enter Beadles, dragging in Hostess QUICKLY and
DOLL TEAR-SHEET.

Host. No, thou arrant knave; I would I might die,

Davy. An it please your worship, there's one that I might have thee hang'd: thou hast drawn my

Pistol come from the court with news.

Fal. From the court, let him come in.

How now, Pistol ?

Enter PISTOL.

Pist. God save you, sir John!

Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.-Sweet knight, thou art now one of the great est men in the realin.

Sil. By'r lady, I think 'a be; but goodman Puff of Barson.

Pist. Puff?

Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!-
Sir John, I am thy Pistol, and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price.
Fal. I pr'ythee now, deliver them like a man of
this world

Pist. A foutra for the world, and worldings base!
I speak of Africa, and golden joys.

Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
Let king Cophetua know the truth thereof.

Sil. And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. [Sings.
Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
And shall good news be baffled ?
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.

Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding
Pist. Why then, lament, therefore.

Shal. Give me pardon, sir;-If, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it, there is but two ways; either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority.

Pist. Under which king, Bezonian? speak, or die.
Shal. Under king Harry.
Pist.

Shal. Harry the fourth.
Pist.

Harry the fourth? or fifth?

A foutra for thine office!-
Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king;
Harry the fifth's the man. I speak the truth:
When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like
The bragging Spaniard.

Fal. What! is the old king dead?

Pist. As nail in door: the things I speak, are just. Fal. Away, Bardolph; saddle my horse.-Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the

shoulder out of joint.

1 Bead. The constables have delivered her over to me: and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her; there hath been a man or two lately killed about her.

Doll. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, thou damned tripe visaged rascal; an the child I now go with, do miscarry, thou hadst better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain.

Host. O the Lord, that sir John were come! he would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray Cod the fruit of her womb miscarry!

1 Bead. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both to go with me; for the man is dead, that you and Pistol beat among you.

Doll. I'll tell thee what, thou thin man in a censer! I will have you as soundly swinged for this, you bluebottle rogue! you filthy famished correctioner; if you be not swinged, I will forswear half-kirtles.

1 Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. Host. O, that right should thus overcome might! Well; of sufferance comes ease.

Doll. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.
Host. Ay; come, you starved blood-hound.
Doll. Goodman death! goodman bones!
Host. Thou atomy thou.

Doll. Come, you thin thing; come, you rascal!
1 Bead. Very well.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A public Place near Westminster Abbey.
Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes.

1 Groom. More rushes, more rushes.
2 Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice

1 Groom. It will be two o'clock ere they come from the coronation: Despatch, despatch. [Exeunt Grooms Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and the Page.

Fal. Stand here by me, master Robert Shallow, I will make the king do you grace: I will leer upon him, as 'a comes by; and do but mark the countenance that he will give me.

Pist. God bless thy lungs, good knight.
Fal. Come here, Pistol; stand behind me.~0, if

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you speak?

Fal. My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart! King. I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy prayers; How ill white hairs become a fool, and jester! I have long dream'd of such a kind of inan, So surfeit swell'd, so old, and so profane; But, being awake, I do despise my dream. Make less thy body, hence, and more thy grace; Leave gormandizing; know, the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men :Reply not to me with a fool-born jest ; Presume not, that I am the thing I was: For heaven doth know, so shall the world perceive, That I have turn'd away my former self; So will I those who kept me company When thou dost hear I am as I have been, Approach me; and thou shalt be as thou wast, The tutor and the feeder of my riots Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death,As I have done the rest of my misleaders,---Not to come near our person by ten mile. For competence of life, I will allow you, That lack of means enforce you not to evil: And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,

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Ch. Just. Go, carry sir John Falstaff to the Fleet, Take all his con,pany along with him. Fal. My lord, my lord,Ch. Just. I cannot now speak: I will hear you soon. Take them away.

Pist. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.

[Ex. FAL. SHAL. PIST. BARD. Page, & Officers. P. John. I like this fair proceeding of the king's He hath intent, his wonted followers Shall all be very well provided for; But all are banish'd, till their conversations Appear more wise and modest to the world. Ch. Just. And so they are.

P. John. The king hath call'd his parliament, my Ch. Just. He hath. [lord.

P. John. I will lay odds,-that, ere this year expire, We bear our civil swords, and native fire, As far as France: I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleas'd the king. Come, will you hence?

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by a DANCER.

[Exeunt.

First, my fear; then, my court'sy: last, my speech. My fear is, your displeasure; my court'sy, my duty; and my speech, to beg your pardons. If you look for a good speech now, you undo me for what I have to say, is of mine own making; and what, indeed, 1 should say, will, I doubt, prove mine own marring. But to the purpose, and so to the venture.-Be it known to you, (as it is very well,) I was lately here in the end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it, and to promise you a better. I did mean, indeed, to pay you with this; which, if, like an ill venture, it come unluckily home. I break, and you, my gentle creditors, lose. Here, I promised you, I would be, and here I commit my body to your mercies: bate me some, and I will pay you some, and, as most debtors do, promise you infinitely.

If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command me to use my legs? and yet that were but light payment,-to dance out of your debt. But a good conscience will make any possible satisfaction, and so will I. All the gentlewomen here have for

tlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, which was never seen before in such an assembly.

We will, according to your strength, and qualities,-given me; if the gentlemen will not, then the gen-
Give you advancement.-Be it your charge, my lord,
To see perform'd the tenor of our word.
Set on.
[Ereunt KING and his Train.
Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.
Shal. Ay, marry, sir John; which I beseech you
to let me have home with me.

One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair Katherine of France: where, for any

thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already he be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man. My

1 fancy every reader, when he ends this play, cries out with Desdemona, "O most lame and impotent conclusion!" As this play was not, to our knowledge, divided to acts by the author. could be content to conclude it with the death of Henry the Fourth:

"In that Jerusalem shall larry die." These scenes, which now make the fifth act of Henry the Fourth, might then be the first of Henry the Fifth, but the truth is that they do not unite very commodiously to either play. When these plays were represented, i believe they ended as they are now ended in the books; but Shakspeare seems to have designed that the whole series of action, from the beginning of Richard the Second, to the end of Henry the Fifth, should be considered by the reader as one work, upon one plan, ouly broken into parts by the necessity of exhibition. None of Shakspeare's plays are more read than the First and Second Parts of Henry the Fourth. Perhaps no author has ever, in two plays, afforded so much delight. The great events are interesting, for the fate of kingdoms depends upon them; the sighter occurrences are diverting, and, except one or two, suf ficiently probable: the incidents are multiplied with wonderful fertility of invention, and the characters diversified with the atmost nicety of discernment, and the profoundest skill in the The prince, who is the hero both of the comic and tragic part, is a young man of great abilities and violent passions, whose sentiments are right though his actions are wrong; whose virtues are obscured by negligence, and whose understanding is dissipated by levity. In his idle hours he is rather loose than wicked; and when the occasion forces out his latent qualities, he is great without effort, and brave without tumult. The trifler

nature of mian.

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is roused into a hero, and the hero again reposes in the trifler The character is great, original, and just. Percy is a rugged soldier, choleric, and quarrelsome, and has only the soldier's virtues, generosity and courage.

But Falstaff, unimitated, ammitable Falstaff, how shall I describe thee? thou compound of sense and vice, of sense which may be admired, but not esteemed, of vice, which may be de Spised, but hardly detested. Falstaff is a character loaded with faults, and with those faults which naturally produce contempt. He is a thief and a glutton, a coward and a boaster, always ready to cheat the weak, and prey upon the poor; to terrify the timorous, and insult the defenceless At once obsequious and malignant, he satirizes in their absence those whom he lives by flattering. He is familiar with the prince only as an agent of vice, but of this familiarity he is so proud, as not only to be supercil ous and haughty with common men, but to think his interest of importance to the Duke of Lancaster. Yet the man thus corrupt, thus despicable, makes himself necessary to the prince that despises him, by the most pleasing of all qualities, perpetual gaiety, by an unfailing power of exciting laughter, which is the more freely indulged, as his wit is not of the splen did or ambitious kind, but consists in easy scapes and sallies of levity, which make sport, but raise no en y. It must be ob served, that he is stained with no enormons or sanguinary crimes, so that his licentiousness is not so offensive but that it may be borne for his mirth.

The moral to be drawn from this representation is, that no man is more dangerous than he that, with a will to corrupt, hath the power to please; and that neither wit nor honesty ought to think themselves safe with such a companion, when they see Henry seduced by Falstaff.-JOHNSON.

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LORD SCROOP,

Sir THOMAS GREY,

conspirators against the King

play must have been produced between April and September, 1599.

The transactions comprised in this Historical Play commence about the latter end of the first, and terminate in the eighth, year of this king's reign, when he married Katharine princess of France, and closed up the differences betwixt England and that crown.-MALONE and THEOBALD.

ALICE, a lady attending on the Princess Katharine. QUICKLY, Pistol's wife, an hostess.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, French and English Soldiers, Messengers and Attendants.

The SCENE, at the beginning of the Play, lies in ENC LAND; but afterwards wholly in FRANCE.

Enter Chorus.

O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend

Sir THOMAS ERPINGHAM, GOWER, FLUELLEN, MAC-The brightest heaven of invention!
MORRIS, JAMY, officers in King Henry's army. A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
BATES, COURT, WILLIAMS, soldiers in the same.
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, formerly servants to Fal-Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,

staff, now soldiers in the same.

Boy, servant to them.

A Herald. Chorus.

CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.

DUKES OF BURGUNDY, ORLEANS, and BOURBON.
The CONSTABLE of France.

RAMBURES, and GRANDPREE, French lords.
Governor of Harfleur.

MONTJOY, a French herald.

Ambassadors to the King of England.

ISABEL, Queen of France.

KATHARINE, daughter of Charles and Isabel.

Assume the port of Mars; and, at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all.
The flat unraised spirit, that hath dar'd,
On this unworthy scaffold, to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O, the very casques,
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest, in little place, a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work :
Suppose, within the girdle of these walls

Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one inan,
And make imaginary puissance:
Think, when we talk of horses, that
you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i'the receiving earth :
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times;
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass; For the which supply,
Admit me chorus to this history:

Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

London.-An Ante-chamber in the King's Palace. Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and BISHOP OF ELY.

Cant. My lord, I'll tell you,—that self bill is urg'd, Which, in the eleventh year o' the last king's reign Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, But that the scambling and unquiet time Did push it out of further question.

Ely. But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?
Cant. It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
We lose the better half of our possession:
For all the temporal lands, which men devout
By testament have given to the church,
Would they strip from us; being valued thus,--
As much as would maintain, to the king's honour,
Full fifteen earls, and fifteen hundred knights;
Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;
And, to relief of lazars, and weak age,
Of indigent faint souls, past corporal toil,
A hundred alms houses, right well supplied;
And to the coffers of the king beside,

A thousand pounds by the year: Thus runs the bill.
Ely. This would drink deep.
Cant.

'Twould drink the cup and all.
Ely. But what prevention ?
Cant. The king is full of grace, and fair regard.
Ely. And a true lover of the holy church.
Cant. The courses of his youth promis'd it not.
The breath no sooner left his father's body,
But that his wildness, mortified in him,
Seem'd to die too: yea, at that very moment,
Consideration like an angel came,

And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him;
Leaving his body as a paradise,

To envelop and contain celestial spirits.
Never was such a sudden scholar made:
Never came reformation in a flood,

With such a heady current, scouring faults;
Nor never Hydra headed wilfulness

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
As in this king.

Ely.
We are blessed in the change.
Cant. Hear him but reason in divinity,
And, all-admiring, with an inward wish
You would desire, the king were made a prelate:
Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
You would say,-it hath been all-in-all his study:
List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
A fearful battle render'd you in music:
Turn him to any cause of policy,

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,

Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences,
So that the art and practic part of life
Must be the mistress to this theoric:
Which is a wonder, how his grace should glean it.
Since his addiction was to courses vain:

His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow;
His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports;
And never noted in him any study,
Any retirement, any sequestration
From open haunts and popularity.

Ely. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle
And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best,
Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality:
And so the prince obscur'd his contemplation
Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

Cant. It must be so; for miracles are ceas'd;
And therefore we must needs admit the means,
How things are perfected.
Ely.

But, my good lord,
How now for mitigation of this bill,
Urg'd by the commons? Doth his majesty
Incline to it, or no?

Cant.

He seems indifferent;
Or, rather, swaying more upon our part,
Than cherishing the exhibiters against us:
For I have made an offer to his majesty,-
Upon our spiritual convocation;

And in regard of causes now in hand,
Which I have open'd to his grace at large,
As touching France,-to give a greater sum
Than ever at one time the clergy yet
Did to his predecessors part withal.

Ely. How did this offer seem receiv'd, my lord!
Cant. With good acceptance of his majesty;
Save, that there was not time enough to hear
(As I perceiv'd his grace would fain have done,
The severals, and unhidden passages,

Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms;
And, generally, to the crown and seat of France,
Deriv'd from Edward, his great grandfather.

Ely. What was the impediment that broke this off?
Cant. The French ambassador, upon that instant,
Crav'd audience and the hour, I think, is come,
To give him hearing: Is it four o'clock ?
Ely.

It is.

Cant. Then go we in, to know his embassy;
Which I could, with a ready guess, declare,
Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.
Ely. I'll wait upon you; and I long to hear it.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room of State in the same.
Enter KING HENRY, GLOSTER, BEDFORD, EXETER
WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants.
K. Hen. Where is my gracious lord of Canterbury?
Exe. Not here in presence.

K. Hen. Send for him, good uncle.

West. Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege K. Hen. Not yet, my cousin; we would be resolv'd, Before we hear him, of some things of weight, That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and BISHOP OF ELY.

Cant. God and his angels, guard your sacred throne, And make you long become it! K. Hen.

Sure, we thank you.

My learned lord, we pray you to proceed!
And justly and religiously unfold,
Why the law Salique, that they have in France,
Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim.
And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
That you should fashion, rest, or bow your reading,
Or nicely charge your understanding soul
With opening titles miscreate, whose right
Suits not in native colours with the truth;
For God doth know, how many, now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation
Of what your reverence shall incite us to:
Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
How you awake the sleeping sword of war:
We charge you in the name of God, take heed:
For never two such kingdoms did contend,
Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
Are every one a woe, a sore complaint,
'Gainst him whose wrongs give edge unto the swords
That make such waste in brief mortality.
Under this conjuration, speak, my lord:
And we will hear, note, and believe in heart,
That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd
As pure as sin with baptism.
[peers,
Cant. Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you
That owe your lives, your faith, and services,
To this imperial throne;-There is no bar
To make against your highness claim to France,
But this, which they produce from Pharamond,
In terram Salicam mulieres nè succedant,
No woman shall succeed in Salique land:
Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze,
To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
The founder of this law and female bar.
Yet their own authors faithfully affirm,
That the land Salique lies in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe :
Where Charles the great, having subdued the Saxons,
There left behind and settled certain French;
Who, holding in disdain the German women,
For some dishonest manners of their life,
Establish'd there this law,—to wit, no female
Should be inheritrix in Salique land;
Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Saia,
Is at this day in Germany call'd-Meisen.
Thus doth it well appear, the Salique law
Was not devised for the realm of France;
Nor did the French possess the Salique land
Until four hundred one and twenty years
After defunction of king Pharamond,
Idly suppos'd the founder of this law;
Who died within the year of our redemption
Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the great
Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French
Beyond the river Sala, in the year

Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
King Pepin, which deposed Childerick,
Did, as heir general, being descended

Of Blithild, which was daughter to king Clothair,
Make claim and title to the crown of France.
Hugh Capet also,-that usurp'd the crown
Of Charles the duke of Lorain, sole heir male
Of the true line and stock of Charles the great,—
To fine his title with some show of truth,
(Though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,)
Convey'd himself as heir to the lady Lingare,
Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son
Of Charles the great. Also king Lewis the tenth,
Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied

Tnat fair queen Isabel, his grandmother, Was lineal of the lady Ermengare,

Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorain :
By the which marriage, the line of Charles the great
Was re-united to the crown of France.
So that, as clear as is the suminer's sun,
King Pepin's title, and Hugh Capet's claim,
King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear
To hold in right and title of the female:
So do the kings of France unto this day;
Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law,
To bar your highness claiming from the female;
And rather choose to hide them in a net,
Than amply to imbare their crooked titles
Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. [this claim?
K. Hen. May I, with right and conscience, make
Cant. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign'
For in the book of Numbers is it writ,-
When the son dies, let the inheritance
Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag
Look back unto your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great grandsire s tomb,
From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
And your great uncle's, Edward the black prince;
Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
Making defeat on the full power of France:
Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
Stood smiling, to behold his lion's whelp
Forage in blood of French nobility.
O noble English, that could entertain
With half their forces the full pride of France;
And let another half stand laughing by,
All out of work, and cold for action!

Ely. Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
And with your puissant arm renew their feats:
You are their heir, you sit upon their throne;
The blood and courage, that renowned them,
Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprizes.

Exe. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth, Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, As did the former lions of your blood. [aud might; West. They know, your grace hath cause, and means. So hath your highness; never king of England Had nobles richer, and more loyal subjects; Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England, And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.

Cant. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, With blood, and sword, and fire, to win your right In aid whereof, we of the spiritualty

Will raise your highness such a mighty sum,
As never did the clergy at one time
Bring in to any of your ancestors.

K. Hen. We must not only arm to invade the French.
But lay down our proportions to defend
Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
With all advantages.

Cant. They of those marches, gracious sovereign, Shall be a wall sufficient to defend Our inland from the pilfering: borderers.

[only.

K. Hen. We do not mean the coursing snatchers But fear the main intendment of the Scot, Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; For you shall read, that my great grandfather Never went with his forces into France, But that the Sco: on his unfurnish'd kingdom Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, With ample and brim fulness of his force; Galling the gleaned land with hot essays. Girding with grievous siege, cas.les and towns;

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