P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What the devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flamecoloured taffata, I see no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phœbus,-he, that wandering knight so fair.' And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace-(majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,) P. Hen. What, none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us beDiana's foresters,' gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government: being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal. P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too; for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying -bring in now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin, a most sweet robe of durance?" Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so becorne a rare hangman. Ful. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. P. Hen. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's Inte. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe." P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, 1° or the melancholy of Moor-ditch ?11 Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes: and art, indeed, the most comparative, 12 rascalliest,— sweet young prince,-But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not and yet he talk'd very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talk'd wisely, and in the street too. P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it." 1 Falstaff, with great propriety, according to vulgar In confirmation of this, it may be remarked that one of astronomy, calls the sun a wandering knight, and by Falstaff's speeches in the first edition has Old, instead this expression evidently alludes to some knight of ro- of Falst. prefixed to it: and in the epilogue to the Semance; perhaps The Knight of the Sun; el Caval-cond Part of King Henry IV. the poet makes & End of lero del Febo, a popular book in his time. The words retractation for having made too free with Sir John Oldmay be part of some forgtoten ballad. castle's name-Where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless he be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man.' Let not us who are body squires to the night (i. e. adorn the night) be called a disgrace to the day. To take away the beauty of the day may probably mean to disgrace it. A squire of the body' originally signified the attendant of a knight. It became afterwards the cant term for a pimp. Falstaff puns on the words knight and beauty, quasi booty. 3 Exile and slander are justly me awarded, My wife and heire lacke lands and lawful right; And me their lord made dame Diana's knight, This is the lament of Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, in The Mirror for Magistrates. Hall, in his Chronicles, says that certain persons who appeared as foresters in pageant exhibited in the reign of King Henry VIII. were called Diana's knights. To lay by is to be still. It occurs again in King Henry VIII.: Even the billows of the sea 7 The buff, or leather jerkin, was the common habit of a serjeant, or sheriff's officer, and is called a robe of durance on that account, as well as for its durability: an equivoque is intended. In the Comedy of Errors, Act iv. Sc. 2, it is called an everlasting garment. Durance might also have signified some lasting kind of stuff, such as is at present called everlasting. 8 A gib cat is a male cat, from Gilbert, the northern name for a he cat. Tom cat is now the usual term. 9 Lincolnshire bagpipes' is a proverbial saying: the allusion is as yet unexplained. Perhaps it was a favourite instrument in that county, as well as in the north. 10 The hare was esteemed a melancholy animal, from her solitary sitting in her form; and, according to the physic of the times, the flesh of it was supposed to Hung their heads, and then lay by.' Steevens says that it is a term adopted from navigation.generate melancholy. 6 i. e. bring in more wine.' 6 Old lad of the castle. This passage has been supposed to have a reference to the name of Sir John Oldcastle. Rowe says that there was a tradition that the part of Falstaff was originally written by Shakspeare under that name. Fuller, in his Church History, book iv. p. 169, mentions this change in the following manner-Stage poets have themselves been very bold with, and others very merry at, the memory of Sir John Oldcastle, whom they have fancied a boon companion, a jovial royster, and a coward to boot. The best is, Sir John Falstaff hath relieved the memory of Sir John Oldcastle, and of late is substituted buffoon in his place 11 Moor-ditch, a part of the ditch surrounding the city of London, between Bishopsgate and Cripplegate, opened to an unwholesome, impassable morass, and was consequently not frequented by the citizens, like other suburbial fields, and therefore had an air of mol ancholy. Thus in Taylor's Pennylesse Pilgrimage, 1618 my body being tired with travel, and my mind attired with moody muddy, Moore-ditch melancholy,' 12 Comparative; this epithet, which is used here for one who is fond of making comparisons, occurs again in Act iii. Sc. 2, of this play. 13 This is a scriptural expression See Proverbs, i 20 and 24. Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better han one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuaFal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an Ision, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou do not, call me villain, and baffle2 me. speakest may move, and what he hears may be be P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee:lieved, that the true prince may (for recreation sake) from praying, to purse-taking. Enter POINS, at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match.3 O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true man. P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal.-What says monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-andSugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thor dest him on Good-friday last, for a cup of Mad and a cold capon's leg? P. Hen. Sr Johu stands to his word, the devil shall have s bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping hy word with the devil. P. Hen. Else he had been damned for coze ing the devil. Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will I will stuff your purses full of crowns; If you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged. go, Fal. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings." 1 i. e. thou hast a wicked trick of repetition, and (by the misapplication of holy texts) art indeed able to corrupt a saint. prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-hallown summer! [Exit FALSTAFF. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and I, will not be there : and when they have the booty, you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth? it Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see; I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce,' 10 to immask our noted outward garments. P. Hen. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for us. Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof1· of this, lies the jest. P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night'* in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit POINS. naries, &c. which were at first called Malaga, or Canary sacks; sack being by that time considered as a name applicable to all white wines. 6 Masks. 7 Falstaff is quibbling on the word royal. The real or royal was of the value of ten shillings. 8 i. e. late summer. All-hallown tide meaning Allsaints, which festival is the first of November. To baffle is to use contemptuously, or treat with ignominy; to unknight. It was originally a punishment of infamy inflicted on recreant knights, one part of which was hanging them up by the heels. Hall, in his Chronicle, p. 40, mentions it as still practised in Scotland. Something of the same kind is implied in a subsequent scene, where Falstaff says: 'hang me up by the heels for a rabbit sucker, or a poulterer's hare.'Gadshill. Theobald thinks that Harvey and Rossil might be the names of the actors who played the parts See King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1. of Bardolph and Peto. 9 The old copy reads Falstaff, Harvey, Rossil, and 3 To set a match is to make an appointment. So in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, Peace, sir, they'll be 10 For the nonce signified for the purpose, for the angry if they hear you eaves-dropping, now they are occasion, for the once. Junius and Tooke, in their setting their match. The folio reads set a watch;Etymology of Anon, led the way; and Mr. Gifford has match is the reading of the quarto. 4 Honest. 5 After all the discussion about Falstaff's favourite beverage, here mentioned for the first time, it appears to have been the Spanish wine which we now call sherry. Falstaff expressly calls it sherris sack, that is sack from Xeres. Sherry sack, so called from Xeres, a sea town of Corduba, in Spain, where that kir.d of sack is made.'-Blount's Glossographia. It derives its name of sack probably from being a dry wine, vin sec. And it was anciently written seck. Your best sacke,' says Gervase Markham, are of Seres in Spaine.'-Engl. Housewife. The difficulty about it has arisen from the later iniportation of sweet wines from Malaga, the Ca since clearly explained its meaning. The editor of the new edition of Warton's History of English Poetry (vol ii. p. 496,) has shown that it is nothing more than a slight variation of the A. S. 'for then anes'-' for then anis,3---for then ones, or once.' Similar inattention to this form of the prepositive article has produced the phrases 'at the nale,' at the nend;' which have been transformed from at than ale,' at than end.' 6 11 Reproof is confutation. To refute, to refell, to disallow, were ancient synonymes of to reprove. 12 We should read to-night, for the robbery was to be committed, according to Poins, to-morrow morning by four o'clock.' Shakspeare had forgotten what he had written at the beginning of this scene P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold | Were, as he says, not with such strength denied The unyok'd humour of your idleness: Yet herein will I imitate the sun; Who doth permit the base contagious clouds As is deliver'd to your majesty: Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners, But, when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come, He was perfumed like a milliner: And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. [Exit. SCENE III. The same. Another Room in the K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and tem- Unapt to stir at these indignities, And you have found me; for, accordingly, serves The scourge of greatness to be used on it; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held With many holiday and lady terms He question'd me; among the rest demanded I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, Of guns, and drums, and wounds (God save the And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth And that same greatness too which our own hands I answer'd indirectly as I said; North. My lord, K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, You have good leave to leave us; when we need [Exit WORCESTER. 1 Full many a glorious morning have I seen, 2 Thus in Macbeth : Shakspeare's 33d Sonnet And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.' The sullen passage of thy weary steps 5 Condition is used for nature, disposition, as wel as estate or fortune. It is so interpreted by Philips in his World of Words. And we find it most frequently used in this sense by Shakspeare and his contemporaries. 6 Frontier is said anciently to have meant forehead, to prove which the following quotation has been adduced from Stubbe's Anatomy of Abuses: Then on the edges of their bolster'd hair, which standeth ousted round their frontiers, and hangeth over their brow.' Mr. Nares has justly observed, that this does not seem to explain the above passage,The moody forehead of a servant brow," is not sense." Surely it may be better 'interpreted the moody or threatening outwork in which sense frontier is used in Act ii. Sc And, I beseech you, let not his report Whatever Harry Percy then had said, K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners; That we, at our own charge, shall ransom straight 7 To completely understand this simile the reader should bear in mind that the courtier's beard, according to the fashion in the poet's time, would not be closely shaved, but shorn or trimmed, and would therefore show like a stubble land new reap'd. 8 A box perforated with small holes, for carrying perfumes; quasi pounced-box. 9 Took it in snuff means no more than snuffed it up, but there is a quibble on the phrase, which was equiva lent to taking huff at it, in familiar modern speech; to be angry, to take offence; To take in snuffe, Pigiar ombra, Pigliar in mala parte.'-Torriane. 10 A popinjay or popingay is a parrot. 11 i. e. pain, dolor ventris is rendered belly-grief in the old dictionaries. 12 So in Sir T. Overburie's Characters, 1616 [An Or. dinarie Fencer,] his wounds are seldom skin-deepe; for an inward-bruise lambstones and sweete breads are his only spermaceti. 13 Shakspeare has fallen into some contradictions with regard to this Lord Mortimer. Before he makes his personal appearance in the play, he is repeatedly spoken of as Hotspur's brother-in-law. In Act II. Lady Percy expressly calls him her brother Mortimer. And yet when he enters in the third Act, he calls Lady Percy his aunt, which in fact she was and not his sister. Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd Hot. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, He did confound the best part of an hour Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; Colour her working with such deadly wounds; North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. [TO WORCESTER. Wor. Who struck this heat up, after I was gone? Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; And when I urg'd the ransom once again Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale; By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?> From whence he, intercepted, did return Wor. And for whose death, we in the world's wide mouth Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. Hot. But, soft, I pray you; Did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather ?— belie him; He durst as well have met the devil alone, Art thou not asham'd? But, sirrah, henceforth [Exeunt KING HENRY, BLUNT, and Train. O, pardon me, that I descend so low, North. What, drunk with choler? stay, and pause Of this proud king; who studies, day and night, awhile; Here comes your uncle. Re-enter WORCESTER. Hot. Speak of Mortimer? 'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him: Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop i' the dust, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high i' the air as this unthankful king, As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. This inconsistency may be accounted for as follows; it appears from Dugdale and Sandford's account of the Mortimer family, that there were two of them taken prisoners at different times by Glendower, each of them bearing the name of Edmund; one being Edmund, earl of March, nephew to Lady Percy, and the proper Mortimer of this play; the other Sir Edmund Mortimer, uncle to the former, and brother to Lady Percy. The poet has confounded the two persons. To indent with fears is to enter into compact with cowards 'To make a covenant or to indent with one. Paciscor.'-Barel. 2 Shakspeare uses confound for spending or losing time. 3 Crisp is curled. Thus in Kyd's Cornelia, 1595:"O beauteous Tyber, with thine easy streams That glide as smoothly as a Parthian shaft, Turn not thy crispy tides, like silver curls, Back to thy grass-green banks to weler me us.' 4 Some of the quarto copies read base To answer all the debt he owes to you, Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more; And now I will unclasp a secret book, 5 Roger Mortimer, earl of March, was declared heir apparent to the crown in 1385: but he was killed in Ireland in 1398. The person who was proclaimed heir apparent by Richard II. previous to his last voyage to Ireland, was Edmund Mortimer, son of Roger, who was then but seven years old: he was not Lady Percy's brother, but her nephew. He was the undoubted heir to the crown after the death of Richard. Thomas Walsingham asserts that he married a daughter of Owen Glendower, and the subsequent historians copied him. Sandford says that he married Anne Stafford, daughter of Edmund earl of Stafford. Glendower's daughter was married to his antagonist Lord Grey of Ruthven. Holinshed led Shakspeare into the error. This Edmund, who is the Mortimer of the present play, was born in 1392, and consequently, at the time when this play is supposed to commence, was little more than ten years old. The prince of Wales was not fifteen. 6 The canker-rose is the dog-rose, the flower of the Cynosbaton. So in Much Ado about Nothing: nd rather be a canker in a hedge, than a rose in his gr 7 i. e. disdainful. Hot. If he fall in, good night:—or sink or swim ; | Send danger from the east unto the west, So honour cross it from the north to south, And let them grapple:-O! the blood more stirs, To rouse a lion, than to start a hare. North. Imagination of some great exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. Hot. By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon; Or dive into the bottom of the deep,' Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear, Without corrival, all her dignities: But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship!2 Wor. He apprehends a world of figures3 here, That are your prisoners,- Those same noble Scots, I'll keep them all; By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them: No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: I'll keep them, by this hand. Wor. You start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes.- Hot. I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Wor. Cousin ; a word. Hear you, Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,* Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales, But that I think his father loves him not, Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you, North. Why, what a wasp-tongue" and impatient fool Art thou, to break into this woman's mood; Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own? 1 Warburton observes that Euripides has put the same sentiment into the mouth of Eteocles :- I will not, madam, disguise my thoughts; I would scale heaven, I would descend to the very entrails of the earth, if so be that by that price I could obtain a kingdom.' Johnson says, Though I am far from condemning this speech, with Gildon and Theobald, as absolute madness, yet I cannot find in it that profundity of reflection, and beauty of allegory, which Warburton endeavoured to display. This sally of Hotspur may be, I think, soberly and rationally vindicated as the violent eruption of a mind inflated with ambition and fired with resentment; as the boasted clamour of a man able to do much, and eager to do more; as the dark expression of indetermined thoughts. The passage from Euripides is surely not allegorical; yet it is produced, and properly, as parallel.-In the Knight of the Burning Pestle, Beaumont and Fletcher have put this rant into the mouth of Ralph the apprentice, who, like Bottom, appears to be fond of acting parts to tear a cat in. 2 Half-faced, which has puzzled the commentators, seems here meant to convey a contemptuous idea of something imperfect. As in Nashe's Apology of Pierce Pennilesse: With all other ends of your half-faced English.' 3 Shapes created by his imagination. 4 To defy was sometimes used in the sense of to renounce, reject, refuse, by Shakspeare and his cotemporaries. 5 Sword and buckler prince' is here used as a term of contempt. The following extracts will help us to the precise meaning of the epithet :- This field, commonly Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear In Richard's time,-What do you call the place?- Hot. You say true: Why, what a candy deal of courtesy me! Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done. Hot. Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd, Hot. Of York, is't not? Wor. True; who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. I speak not this in estimation," As what I think might be, but what I know Is ruminated, plotted, and set down; And only stays but to behold the face Of that occasion that shall bring it on. Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well. North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st slip.10 Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot :And then the power of Scotland, and of York,— To join with Mortimer, ha? Wor. And so they shall. Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, To save our heads by raising of a head;11 For, bear ourselves as even as we can, The king will always think him in our debt;12 And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, Till he hath found a time to pay us home. called West Smithfield, was for many years called Ruf fian's Hall, by reason it was the usual place for frayes and common fighting, during the time that sword and bucklers were in use; when every serving man, from the base to the best, carried a buckler at his back, which hung by the hilt or pomel of his sword.'-Stowe's Survey of London. 6 This is said in allusion to low pot-house company, with which the prince associated. 7 The first quarto, 1599, reads wasp-stung, which Steevens thought the true reading. The quarto of 1599 reads wasp-tongue, which Malone strenuously contends for; and I think with Mr. Nares that he is right. "He who is stung by wasps has a real cause for impatience; but waspish, which is often used by Shakspeare, is pe tulaut from temper; and wasp-tongue therefore very naturally means petulant-tongue, which was exactly the accusation meant to be urged. The folio altered it unnecessarily to wasp-tongued. 8 i. e. what a deal of candy courtesy. 9 Conjecture. 10 This phrase is taken from hunting. To let slip is to loose a greyhound. 11 A body of forces. 12 This is a natural description of the state of mind between those that have conferred, and those that have received obligations too great to be satisfied That this would be the event of Northumberland's dis oyalty was predicted by King Richard in the former sy' |
