There is a shrewdness in him almost amounting to wisdom, and he has the most dexterous way of getting out of scrapes. Thus, when the Prince, in the disguise of a drawer, overhears him undervaluing him to Doll Tearsheet and, throwing off the disguise, charges him with the treason, Jack has his answer ready: "I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him". No scene could be funnier than when they agree that Falstaff should personate the King, Hal's father, and give the Prince a lecture on the wildness of his ways. As if he were on the throne, Jack begins: "Stand aside, nobility!" and, when the hostess utters an ejaculation, he says, with kingly pomp, "Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain" and orders her to be led out of the presence. Then, turning to the Prince, he says: "Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also, how thou art accompanied. If thou be son to me, here lies the point-why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat blackberries?—a question not to be asked. the Son of England prove a thief and take purses?— a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee Shall in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also. And yet there is a virtuous man whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. A goodly, portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty or, by'r lady, inclining to threescore; and, now I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If, then, the tree may be known by his fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then-peremptorily I speak it-there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish.” Such is the world of low life into which Prince Henry, fleeing from the ceremonies of the court, loves to descend. But Shakspeare's representation is that, though in it, he is in nowise of it. He goes into it merely as a spectator, to gain acquaintance with real life, and is no more corrupted than the sun is by looking on a dunghill. When he was summoned out of it to take part in the civil war, he instantly answered to the summons; and, when he appeared in camp, one who saw him thus described him : I saw young Harry-with his beaver on, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropped down from the clouds, And witch the world with noble horsemanship. He distinguished himself in the war; yet, after it was over, the attractions of low London drew him back again. His evil courses were a grief to his father, who spoke ominously of what might befal the nation under such a king; but other observers were more hopeful :— You shall find, his vanities forespent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots His father's death is the turning-point of his career. The dying king deals closely with him; and the Prince comes out of the death-chamber an altered man. At the same time the responsibility of kingship, descending on his head, steels his resolution. Falstaff, hearing in the country of the old king's death, hastens to town, thinking that his fortune is now made and squandering places and titles, by anticipation, among his comrades, and he salutes Harry in the old way, as he passes in procession through the street; but Harry cries: I know thee not, old man, fall to thy prayers; and forbids him on pain of death to come within ten Harry, being settled on the throne, shoots up as a man of the most varied and perfect genius:— 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, 1 Was Falstaff a coward? Did King Henry treat him fairly? On both questions see BRADLEY, Oxford Lectures on Poetry, pp. 263, 267, 268. You'd say it hath been all-in-all his study; List his discourse of war, and you shall hear The gordian knot of it he will unloose Familiar as his garter. The most marked strain of his new character, however, is religion :— The breath no sooner left his father's body And whipped the offending Adam out of him. Henry the Fifth is the most deeply religious character in Shakspeare's works. His religion is not fanatical or obtrusive; but it completely changes the course of his life; and, ever after this date, with all his gay and manly temper there mingles, at every turn, the acknowledgment of God. The culminating scene of his life is the Battle of Agincourt-one of Shakspeare's most wonderful performances. The English army, decimated with disease and hunger, creeps along the shore to Agincourt, while the French, with health, food and many times their numbers, prepare to sweep them into the sea. It seems a fatal moment; but the King bates not a jot of heart or hope. One of the English leaders having |