finite, if not altogether unknown. In the slight notices of Sack contained in his "Illustrations of Shakespeare," Mr. Douce observes that there are two principal questions on the subject: first, whether Sack was known in the time of Henry IV.; second, whether it was a dry or a sweet wine, when this play was written? The first of these inquiries is altogether valueless, inasmuch as Shakespeare certainly never contemplated the historical age of Henry IV., but exhibited only the manners of his own time. The second question is relevant, and deserves attention.

It would weary the reader, however, and occupy far too much space, to insert a tithe of the passages collected from the old writers in illustration of the qualities of Sack. The most descriptive and important are before us, and the conclusions deducible from them appear to be, that Sack, properly so called, was a Spanish wine, and hence was named Sherris, or Xeres Sack; that it was a hot, stimulating, and especially dry wine, from which last quality its name of Sack (sec) was indubitably derived; that the name was also expressive of a class of wines comprehending several very different species of Sack, some of which were usually medicated or prepared according to the taste of the drinker; and that the genuine old Sack in reality closely resembled, if it were not indeed the very same liquor as the modern sherry, the simple name of which was not older than the end of the seventeenth century:

"The next that stood up, with a countenance merry, Was a pert sort of wine that the moderns call Sherry." Bacchanalian Sessions, 1693.

That Sack, in the general meaning of the name, was a Spanish wine, is established, without going beyond the older dictionaries. Florio, in defining the liquor called "Tibidrago," says that it is "a kind of strong Spanish wine, or Sacke; we call it Rubiedavy." A name, by the way, which does not appear to have been noticed by any authors who have written on wines. Cotgrave translates sack into Vin d'Espagne:" Coles renders the worl "Vinum Hispanicum," and Minsheu gives it the same signification in eleven languages, as if that were to be regarded as the best explanation in all.

Of its hot and stimulating qualities, we need no further evidence than the copious and eloquent eulogy of Falstaff in the present speech, and Herrick's "Welcome" and "Farewell to Sack," published in 1648; and its dryness, by which is to be understood the contrary of a sweet wine, is sufficiently indicated both by its name, and by the practice of sweetening and preparing it for different purposes, or according to the taste of the imbiber. Sack and sugar, burnt Sack, and Sack-posset are well-known names of these preparations, and even the "lime in the sack," which Sir John condemns as a vile adulteration, may be shown to belong to the same class of medicated liquors.

Dr. Venner, 1622, considered the sugar which was occasionally added to the Sack to be quite as much of a medicine as a luxury; but Fynes Moryson, in 1617, regarded it as simply indicative of the national liking for sweetness in general. "Clownes and vulgar men only," he remarks, "use large drinking of beere, or ale; but gentlemen garrawse only in wine; with which they mix sugar; which I never observed in any other place or kingdom to be used for that purpose. And, because the taste of the English is thus delighted with sweetness, the wines in taverns, for I speak not of merchantes' or gentlemen's cellars-are mixed at the filling thereof, to make them pleasant."

The next artificial preparation of Sack, the "burning" it, seems to have been designed partly to warm the liquor, partly to enrich the flavour, and partly to abate the strength of the spirit; but it was probably a slight process, that simple preparation only, to which Falstaff refers, when he says, "Go, brew me a pottle of sack finely;" a brewage altogether different to the elaborate concoction called Sack-posset, the excellence of which, however, the method of making it in Shakespeare's days, and the proper hour when it ought to be found in perfect projection-will be more fittingly set forth in the commentary on

"The Merry Wives of Windsor," where the "posset" twice mentioned.

(3) SCENE IV.—

they do observe

Unfather'd heirs, and loathly births of nature.]

This passage has been strangely misunderstood. By loathly births of nature, are, of course, meant, monstrous mis-shapen productions of nature. Such prodigies, we know, from the many broadside descriptions of them which are registered in the books of the Stationers' Company, or are still extant, and from the good-humoured sarcasms of Shakespeare-"A strange fish I Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man,"-possessed an extraordinary fascination for our credulous and sight-loving forefathers. But the unfather'd heirs, whom Prince Humphrey is alarmed to see the people reverence, were certain so-called prophets, who pretended to have been conceived by miracle, like Merlin

"And, sooth, men say that he was not the sonne
Of mortall syre or other living wight,

But wondrously begotten, and begoune

By false illusion of a guilefull spright

On a faire lady Nonne, that whilome hight

Matilda, daughter to Pubidius

Who was the lord of Mathtraval by right,
And coosen unto king Ambrosius;

Whence he indued was with skill so merveilous."

Faerie Queene, III. 3, St. 13. and assumed, on that account, to be endowed, like him, with the prophetic character. Walter Scott, it will be remembered, imputes a kindred origin to his wizard Hermit, Brian, in " The Lady of the Lake"

"Of Brian's birth strange tales were told," &c.
Canto III. St. 5.

And Montaigne refers to such supposed miraculous conceptions in his Essay entitled the Apology for Raymond Sebond, "In Mahomet's religion, by the easie beleefe of that people, are many Merlins found; That is to say, fatherles children; Spiritual children, conceived and borne devinely in the wombs of virgins, and that in their language beare names, importing as much."-"Florio's Montaigne," folio 1603, p. 308.

If the meaning here attributed to the expression unfather'd heirs, be that intended by the poet, it may, perhaps, afford a key to another in "The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act V. Scene 5, which has been long discussed, but never yet explained,—

"You orphan heirs of fixed destiny."

(4) SCENE IV.

WAR. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.

K. HEN. Laud be to God!-even there my life must end.] In looking at this representation of Henry's death, in connection with the beginning of his dramatic history, we are reminded of the words of the Duke of Ephesus, at the end of "The Comedy of Errors," "Why, here begins his morning story right.' The king discovers in the present scene, that one reason at least for his pressing forward an expedition to the Holy Land, was the fulfilment of a prediction that he should die in Jerusalem. Such a prophecy, as to the death of an important personage, appears to have been not unusual in the middle ages; and a remarkable illustration of it is on record, concerning Pope Sylvester II. Cardinal Benno states, that when he inquired of spiritual agency as to the length of his life, he was assured that he should not die until he had said mass at Jerusalem; on which he promised himself a very long existence. In the fifth year of his pontificate, however, A.D. 1003, he happened to celebrate mass in the church called "The Holy Cross in Jerusalem;" and there he was suddenly taken ill, and soon after died. Holinshed seems to doubt the prediction respecting Henry IV. "Whether this was true, that so he spake as one that gave too much credit to

foolish prophesies and vaine taies, or whether it was fained, as in such cases it commonlie happeneth, we leave to the admired reader to judge." There does not appear, however, to be any sufficient reason to doubt either that such a prediction was uttered, or that Henry declared it. His purpose of levying "a power of English" to recover the city of Jerusalem from the infidels, was universally known, and the prophecy, that he would die there, seemed to be a very natural conclusion, and a politic flattering of his design as well. Henry had brought forward this measure at a very early period of his reign, and it continued to be "the ruling passion strong in death." Shortly before he was attacked by apoplexy at Eltham, about Christmas, 1413, he held a council at Whitefriars, which ordered the fitting out of ships and galleys, and other preparations to be made for the voyage. And even after his partial recovery, when "hee was taken with his last sicknesse, he was making his prayers at Sainte Edwardes shrine, there as it were to take his leave, and so to proceede forthe on hys iourney; and was then "so suddaynely and greevouslie taken that suche as were about him, feared least he would have dyed presently, wherefore to relieve him if it were possible, they bare him into a chamber that was nexte at hand, belonging to the Abbot of Westminster, where they layd him on a pallet before the fier, and used all remedyes to revive him: at length, hee recovered hys speeche, and understanding and perceiving himselfe in a strange place which he knew not, hee willed to know if the chamber had any particular name, whereunto aunswere was made, that it was called 'Jerusalem.' Then saide the king, laudes be gyven to the father of heaven, for now I knowe that I shall dye heere in thys chamber, according to the prophecie of me declared, that I shoulde depart this life in Jerusalem."✦✦

It is quite possible that his early and active military employment in foreign countries might have given the first impetus to his design of an expedition to Palestine ; but it is still more probable that he contemplated it as a meritorious atonement for the means by which he had obtained the crown.

The effigy of Henry IV. upon his tomb at Canterbury, 18 considered to be the most splendid of our regal series. No doubt was entertained that the King was really buried there, until the discovery by Wharton of a MS. in Corpus

Christi College, Cambridge, written by Clement Maydestone, a contemporary and an ecclesiastic, entitled-“A History of the Martyrdom of Archbishop Scroop," in which the following passage occurs :

"Within thirty days after the death of the said king Henry the Fourth, a certain man of his household came to the house of the Holy Trinity at Houndeslow to eat, and the standers-by discoursing of that king's probity of life, the aforesaid person made answer to an esquire, whose name was Thomas Maydestone, then sitting at the same table, God knows whether he was a good man; but this I certainly know, that when his body was carried from Westminster towards Canterbury, in a small vessel to be buried, I was one of the three persons that threw his body into the sea between Berkyng and Gravesend. And he added, confirming it with an oath,-So great a storm of wind and waves came upon us, that many noblemen that followed us in eight small vessels, were dispersed, and narrowly escaped the danger of death. But we that were with the body des pairing of our lives, by common consent threw it into the sea, and a great calm ensued; but the chest it was in, covered with cloth of gold, we carried in very honourable manner to Canterbury, and buried it. The monks of Canterbury may therefore say, The tomb of King Henry the Fourth is with us, but not his body, as Peter said of holy David, Acts ii. Almighty God is witness and judge that I, Clement Maydestone, saw that man, and heard him swear to my father, Thomas Maydestone, that all abovesaid was true."

It had long been the wish of historians and antiquaries to test the value of this story, and at length on the 21st of August, 1832, the tomb was opened by the cathedral authorities, when the body was found cased in lead, within a rude elm coffin, so much larger than necessary, that the intervening spaces were filled with hay-bands. On removing the wrapper, "to the astonishment of all present, the face of the deceased king was seen in remarkable preservation. The nose elevated, the cartilage even remaining, though, on the admission of the air, it sunk rapidly away, and had entirely disappeared before the examination was finished. The skin of the chin was entire, of the consistence and thickness of the upper leather of a shoe, brown and moist; the beard thick and matted and of a deep russet color."

(1) SCENE 1.-By cock and pye.]—This popular adjuration was once supposed to refer to the sacred name, and to the table of services in the Romish Church, called The Pie: but it is now thought to be what Hotspur termed a mere protest of pepper-gingerbread," as innocent as Slender's, "By these gloves," or " By this hat." In "Soliman and Perseda," 1599, it occurs coupled with mouse-foot; "By cock and pie and mouse-foot ;" and again, in "The Plaine Man's Pathway to Heaven," by Arthur Dent. 1607, where we have the following dialogue: Asunctus-"I know a man that will never swear but by cock or py, or mousefoot. I hope you will not say these be oaths. For he is as honest a man as ever brake bread. You shall not hear an oath come out of his mouth." Theologus-"I do not think he is so honest a man as you make him. For it is no small sin to swear by creatures.' The Cock and Pye, i. e.. and Magpie, was an ordinary ale-house sign, and may thus have become a subject for the vulgar to swear by. Douce, however, ascribes to it a less ignoble origin, and his interpretation is much too ingenious to be passed in silence" It will, no doubt, be recollected, that in the days of ancient chivalry it was the practice to make

solemn vows or engagements for the performance of some considerable enterprise. This ceremony was usually per formed during some grand feast or entertainment, at which a roasted peacock or pheasant being served up by ladies in a dish of gold or silver, was thus presented to each knight, who then made the particular vow which he had chosen, with great solemnity. When this custom had fallen into disuse, the peacock nevertheless continued to be a favourite dish, and was introduced on the table in a pie, the head, with gilded beak, being proudly elevated above the crust, and the splendid tail expanded. Other birds of smaller value were introduced in the same manner, and the recollection of the old peacock vows might occasion the less serious, or even burlesque, imitation of swearing not only by the bird itself but also by the pie; and hence probably the oath by cock and pie, for the use of which no very old authority can be found. The vow to the peacock had even got into the mouths of such as had no pretensions to knighthood. Thus in The merchant's second tale, or the history of Beryn, the host is made to say,—

"I make a vowe to the pecock there shal wake a foul mist."

(2) SCENE II.

This is the English, not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry, Harry.]

Amurath the Third, who was the seventh Emperor of the Turks, died in 1595, and the people, being disaffected to his eldest son, Mahomet, and inclined to a younger one, the death of the emperor was kept secret for some days by the Janissaries, until Mahomet came from Amasia to Constantinople. On his arrival, he was saluted Emperor by the Bassas and others with whom he was a favourite; whereupon, without informing his brothers of their father's demise, he invited all of them to a solemn entertainment, and there had them strangled. Mr. Malone conceives it highly probable that Shakespeare alludes to this transaction in the present passage, and that the period when it happened may fix the date of the play to the beginning of the year 1596. There is no solid reason, however, for believing that the poet had this particular circumstance in his mind, or that it is in any way connected with the date of the piece. The barbarous and unnatural custom which prevailed among the Turkish kings and emperors, of slaughtering all their brethren and nearest kinsmen, on coming to the throne, that they might relieve themselves from the apprehension of competitors, originated many years before with Bajazet, son to Amurath the First (third emperor of the Turks), and it is much more likely that Shakespeare in this instance referred to a general practice, rather than to a special event.

(3) SCENE V.—

We will, according to your strength, and qualities,—
Give you advancement.]

There is a speech somewhat similar to this in the corresponding scene of "The famous Victories of Henry the Fifth:"

"Ah Tom, your former life grieves me,

And makes me to abandon and abolish your company for ever,
And therefore not upon pain of death to approch my presence,
By ten miles space, then if I heare well of you,
It may bee I will doe somewhat for you,
Otherwise looke for no more favour at my hands
Then at any other mans."

Both dramatists were indebted for the incident to Holinshed, who records it as follows:-"Immediately after that hee was invested Kyng, and had receyved the Crowne, he determined with himselfe to putte upon him the shape of a new man, turning insolencie and wildnesse into gravitie and sobernesse; And whereas hee hadde passed his youth in wanton pastime and riotous misorder, with a sort of misgoverned mates, and unthriftie playfeers, he nowe banished them from his presence (not unrewarded nor yet unpreferred), inhibiting them uppon a greate payne, not once to approche, lodge, or sojourn within tenne miles of his Courte or mansion; and in their places he elected and chose men of gravitie, witte, and high policie, by whose wise counsell, and prudent adver tisement, he might at all times rule to his honoure, and governe to his profyte; whereas if he should have reteined the other lustie companions aboute him, he doubted least they might have allured him to such lewde and lighte partes, as with them beforetyme he had youthfully used.'

(4) SCENE V.-Go, carry sir John Falstaff to the Fleet.] -"Everybody will agree with Dr. Johnson in the impropriety of Falstaff's cruel and unnecessary commitment to prison. The king had already given him a fit admonition as to his future conduct, and banished him to a proper distance from the court. We must suppose therefore that the chief justice had far exceeded his royal master's commands on this occasion, or that the king had repented of his lenity. The latter circumstance would indeed augur but unfavourably of the sovereign's future regard to justico; for had he not himself been a partaker, and conse. quently an encourager, of Falstaff's excesses?"-DOUCE.

(1) And so kneel down, &c.]—At the termination of the performance, from a very early period, it was customary for the players to kneel down and pray for their patrons, the king or queen, or House of Commons, &c. Hence probably, as Steevens suggests, the Vivant Rex et Regina, still appended at the bottom of the play-bills. Thus, at the end of "Apius and Virginia," 1575:

'Beseeching God, as duty is, our gracious queene to save,

The nobles and the commons eke, with prosperous life I crave."

Again in Middleton's "A Mad World, my Masters:"

"This shows like kneeling after the play; I praying for my lord Owemuch, and his good countess, our honourable lady and mistress."

And also in "New Custom :"

"Preserve our noble Queen Elizabeth, and her counsell all."