amusing them. He is no longer witty: he affects the dignity of a great man, and is sparing of his conversation. "I do see the "bottom," says he, "of Justice Shallow." Meanwhile Shallow and Slender become in their turns solicitous of pleasing him: they believe him a man of great consequence: they think even of making him their dupe, and of employing him as the engine of their petty ambition. He indulges their folly, lets them entangle themselves in the snare; endures their conversation, and does them the signal honour of borrowing a thousand pounds. His treatment of his hostess and Bardolph is no less dexterous; but from the ascendant he has obtained, it is not so difficult, and is managed by the poet in the most inoffensive

manner.

3. Another kind of ability displayed by our hero, is the address with which he defies detection, and extricates himself out of difficulty. He is never at a loss. His presence of mind never forsakes him. Having no sense of character, he is never troubled

with shame. Though frequently detected, or in danger of detection, his inventive faculty never sleeps; it is never totally overwhelmed: or, if it be surprised into a momentary intermission of its power, it forthwith recovers, and supplies him with fresh resources. He is furnished with palliatives and excuses for every emergency.

Besides

other effects produced by this display of ability, it tends to amuse, and to excite laughter: for we are amused by the application of inadequate and ridiculous causes. Of the talent now mentioned we have many instances. Thus, when detected by Prince Henry in his boastful pretensions to courage, he tells him that he knew him. "Was it for me," says he, "to kill the heir-apparent?" So also in another scene, when he is detected in his abuse of the Prince, and overheard even by the Prince himself.

No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him.

In the admirable scene, where he is detected in falsely and injuriously charging his

hostess with having picked his pocket of some very valuable articles, whereas the theft was chiefly of the ludicrous tavern-bill formerly mentioned, his escape is singularly remarkable. He does not justify himself by any plea of innocence. He does not colour nor palliate his offence. He cares not what baseness may be imputed to himself: all that he desires is, that others may not be spotless. If he can make them appear base, so much the better. For how can they blame him, if they themselves are blameable? On the present occasion he has some opportunity: he sees and employs it. The Prince, in rifling his pocket, had descended to an undignified action. The trespass indeed was slight, and Falstaff could not reckon it otherwise. But Prince Henry, possessing the delicacies of honour, felt it with peculiar acuteness. Falstaff, aware of this, employs the Prince's feelings as a counterpart to his own baseness, and is successful. It is on this particular point, tho' not usually attended to, because managed with much address, that his present resource depends.

P. H. Thou sayest true, Hostess, and he slanders thee

most grossly.

Host. So doth he you, my lord; and said this other day you ought him a thousand pound.

P. H. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Falstaff. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love

is worth a million: thou owest me thy love.

Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would cudgel you.

Falstaff. Did I, Bardolph?

Bardolph. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

Falstaff. Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

P. H. I say 'tis copper. Dar'st thou be as good as thy word now.

Falstaff. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare; but as thou art Prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.

P. H. And why not as the lion?

Falstaff. The King himself is to be fear'd as the lion ; dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay an' I do, let my girdle break!

P. H. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, Sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine: it is all filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whoreson, impudent, imbossed rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugarcandy to make thee longwinded; if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, 1 am a villain; and yet you will stand

to it, you will not pocket up wrongs. Art thou not ashamed?

Falstaff. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty.

Then he adds, after an emphatic pause, and no doubt with a pointed application in the manner :

You confess then that you picked my pocket?

Prince Henry's reply is very remarkable. It is not direct: it contains no longer any raillery or reproach; it is almost a shuffling answer, and may be supposed to have been spoken after, or with some conscious confusion: "It appears so, says he, "from the story." Falstaff pushes him no further; but expresses his triumph, under the shew of moderation and indifference, in his address to the hostess.

Hostess, I forgive thee; go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband; look to thy servants; and cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest I am pacified.