clothes, but feels confident his travel-stained apparel will testify to his devotion. While they are waiting, Pistol imparts Doll's arrest, and Falstaff has just boasted she will soon be free, when a blast of trumpets heralds the King's arrival. No longer able to restrain his expansive spirits, Falstaff lustily shouts 'God save thy grace, King Hal! my royal Hal!' wherein he is imitated by Pistol; until Henry V., reining in his prancing steed, sternly bids the Chief Justice 'speak to that vain man.' Although this dignitary performs the task eagerly, Falstaff, paying no heed to his reproofs, renews his cries, until his Majesty distinctly declares; 'I know thee not, old man' and after administering a rebuke, assures Falstaff he is no longer what he was, but intends to banish his former companions, who will have to remain ten miles away from his person until they reform. Then, adding some good advice,salved by the promise of a pension,-Henry rides slowly on.

The King having gone, dazed Falstaff acknowledges he has lost his bet of a thousand pounds; but he soon confidently adds the King disowned him publicly for appearance's sake, but will soon send for him privately, when he will have an opportunity to intercede for his friends. To avoid paying half the lost bet,-which Shallow claims,Falstaff invites his former school friend to dinner, repeating he will soon be summoned to court! But, Prince John, the Chief Justice and officers now appear to arrest him and his companions, and Prince John praises his brother when they have been removed, for providing for his former friends, although

he has banished them from his presence until they have reformed. He adds that Henry has already summoned Parliament, and that he suspects there will be war against France ere long.

The Epilogue to this play is recited by a dancer, who expresses some fear lest the audience may have been bored, and begs pardon in that case; then he promises a sequel to this play, wherein more will be told about Falstaff, and where the King's wooing of fair Katharine of France, will be set forth. After that, kneeling down, the dancer prays for the Queen, and the curtain slowly falls.

THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH

THIS play is preceded by an eloquent prologue, wherein the poet, despairing of making his characters live again before our eyes, of enclosing 'the vasty fields of France' in a mere theatre, or of showing us 'the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt,' makes an eloquent appeal to the audience's imagination.

ACT I. The first act opens in an antechamber of the royal palace in London, where the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely are discussing a bill, pending for twelve years past, which will deprive the Church of many prerogatives. They also comment on their new monarch, Canterbury remarking that although Henry V.'s youth presaged little good, he is now a model ruler. All he says in praise of the King's wisdom, is confirmed by the Bishop of Ely, who adds that just as strawberries grow beneath the nettle, the King's virtues have ripened and developed under cover of his wildness, ere he inquires how Henry views the bill they have discussed? Canterbury replies that although the King seemed almost indifferent, an offer the Church recently made of funds to make war against France will probably determine him to act in their favour. Still, he adds, that although pleasantly impressed by this offer, his Majesty would give no immediate answer, expressing instead a desire to know more about his claims to the French crown. The arrival of a French ambassador, craving audi

ence, had interrupted this momentous conversation, and it is this audience the prelates propose to attend, although they can calculate its import in ad

vance.

We next behold the presence-chamber, where the King enters with his train, calling for the Archbishop of Canterbury. While this prelate is being summoned, a courtier inquires whether the ambassador is to be admitted, only to be informed that matters of weight must first be settled. The entering clergy having pronounced the benediction, the King addresses Canterbury, asking whether, in his opinion, the Salic Law debars him from the French crown, solemnly warning him to weigh well his answer, as his decision may cost many lives. Thus adjured, the Archbishop explains how the ancient law decreeing that no woman should succeed in Salic lands, was framed in early Merovingian times, in the country between the Elbe and the Sala, and hence has no bearing upon the crown of France, to which Henry inherits a clear title.

When Henry therupon demands whether he may 'with right and conscience' assert this claim, Canterbury urges him to do so, eloquently quoting the Scriptures, and invoking the memory of his glorious kinsman, the Black Prince. Chiming in, the Bishop of Ely reminds the Monarch he is heir to all this courage and glory, while his relatives exclaim that his brother kings expect him to act, and that there are men and money enough to make his claim good.

When Canterbury adds that the clergy will volunteer for such a purpose a larger subsidy than has

ever been granted before, Henry gravely reminds all present that not only must they invade France, but defend England, for the Scotch invariably rise when there is war abroad. When Canterbury eagerly rejoins that the lords of the marches suffice to repel the borderers, Henry retorts he is not thinking of raids, but of such wars as have brought terror and ruin before. Thereupon Canterbury defiantly replies that when Scotland attacked England, her King fell into their power, paying no heed to the old adage, which Westmoreland quotes: 'If that you will France win, then with Scotland first begin.'

A spirited discussion now ensues between Exeter and Canterbury, each of whom illustrates his meaning by similies, that of the Archbishop proving particularly felicitous, for he describes a bee-hive as a model of good government, ere suggesting that the King go to France with one-fourth of the English forces, leaving the remainder at home to defend the borders and police his realm. So palatable is this advice to Henry,-who wishes to keep his nobles too busy abroad to plot at home,-that, after giving orders to admit the ambassadors, he exclaims his mind is fully made up, and that with God's help and that of his subjects, France shall be his.

The entering ambassadors now bow low before the English monarch, who graciously announces he is ready to receive the Dauphin's message, since it comes in his name. After a courteous preamble,— having obtained the English King's leave to speak boldly, the ambassador briefly states Henry's claims to certain estates in France are rejected, and that