peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month? P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbet-sucker 39, or a poulter's hare. P. Hen. Well, here I am set. Fal. And here I stand:-judge, my masters. P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are griev ous. Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false:-nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith. P. Hen. Swear'st thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch 40 of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard 41 of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree 42 ox with the pudding in his 39 A young rabbit. 40 The machine which separates flour from bran. 41 A bombard was a very large leathern vessel to hold drink, perhaps so called from its similarity to a sort of cannon of the same name. That it was not a barrel, as some have supposed, is evident from the following passage: His boots as wide as the black jacks, Or bombards toss'd by the king's guards.' Shirley's Martyr'd Soldier. 42 Manningtree, in Essex, formerly enjoyed the privilege of fairs, by exhibiting a certain number of stage plays yearly. It belly, that reverend vice, that gray iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you 43; Whom means your grace? P. Hen. That villanous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. Fal. My lord, the man I know. P. Hen. I know, thou dost. Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him than in myself, were to say more than I know. That he is old (the more the pity), his white hairs do witness it: but that he is (saving your reverence) a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know, is damned if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins ; but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and there appears from other intimations that there were great festivities there, and much good eating at Whitsun ales, &c. We may therefore conclude that roasting an ox whole was not uncommon on those occasions. The pudding sometimes accompanied the ox; as we find in a ballad written in 1658:- 'Just so the people stare At an ox in the fair Roasted whole with a pudding in's belly.' Nicholl's Collection of Poems, vol. iii. p. 202. Manningtree oxen were doubtless famous for their size; the pastures of that neighbourhood are remarkable for their excellence. 43 i. e. go no faster than I can follow. fore more valiant, being as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. P. Hen. I do, I will. [A knocking heard. [Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH. Re-enter BARDOLPH, running. Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door. Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play; I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. Re-enter Hostess, hastily. Host. O Jesu, my lord! my lord! Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: What's the matter? Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house; Shall I let them in? Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold, a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, without seeming so. P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras 44;-the 44 When arras was first brought into England, it was suspended on small hooks driven into the walls of houses and castles; but this practice was soon discontinued. After the damp of the stone and brickwork had been found to rot the tapestry, it was fixed on frames of wood at such distance from the wall as prevented the damp from being injurious; large spaces were thus left between the arras and the walls, sufficient to contain even one of Falstaff's bulk. Our old dramatists avail themselves of this convenient hiding place upon all occasions. rest walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience. Fal. Both which I have had: but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me. [Exeunt all but the Prince and POINS. P. Hen. Call in the sheriff. Enter Sheriff and Carrier. Now, master Sheriff; what's your will with me? Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. A P. Hen. What men? Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord, gross fat man. Car. As fat as butter. P. Hen. The man, I do assure you, is not here; For I myself at this time have employ'd him. And, Sheriff, I will engage my word to thee, That I will, by to-morrow dinner time, Send him to answer thee, or any man, For any thing he shall be charg'd withal: And so let me entreat you leave the house. Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, He shall be answerable; and so, farewell. Sher. Good night, my noble lord. P. Hen. I think it is good morrow: Is it not? Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. [Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's 45. Go call him forth. Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse. P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath; 45 St. Paul's Cathedral, Search his pockets. [POINS searches.] What hast thou found? Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord. P. Hen. Let's see what they be read them. Item, Sauce, 4d. Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. 46 Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. P. Hen. O monstrous! but one halfpenny-worth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!-What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning; we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelve-score 47. The money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins. Poins. Good morrow, good my lord. [Exeunt. 46 In a very curious letter from Thomas Rainolds, vice chancellor of Oxford, in 1566, to Cardinal Pole, among the Conway Papers, he entreats the suppression of some of the wine taverns in Oxford, and states as one of his reasons that they sell Gascony wine at 16d. a gallon, sacke at 2s. 4d. per gallon, and Malvoisie at 2s. 6d. to the utter ruin of the poor students.' In Florio's First Frutes, 1578:-Claret wine, red and white, is sold for fivepence the quarte, and sacke for sixpence ; muscadel and malmsey for eight.' Twenty years afterwards sack had probably risen to eightpence or eightpence halfpenny a quart, which would make the computation of five shillings and eightpence for two gallons correct. To the note on sack, at p. 131, we may add that sack is called Vinum Hispanicum by Coles, and Vin d'Espagne by Sherwood. In Florio's Second Frutes it is Vino de Spagna. 47 A score, in the language of Toxopholites, was twenty yards. A mark of twelve score meant a mark at the distance of two hundred and forty yards. |