Chapter XI: Part I: Act 1. Scene ii., as follows

FAL. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

PRINCE. 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 a 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 flame-coloured taffeta, I see
no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of
day.

In Parolles and Falstaff we have displayed the same lack of moral consciousness, the same grossly sensuous materialism, and withal, the same unquenchable optimism and colossal impudence.

When we remember that though Shakespeare based his play upon the old _Famous Victories of Henry V._ and took from it the name Oldcastle, that the actual characterisation of his Oldcastle--Falstaff--has no prototype in the original, the abrupt first entry upon the scene of this tavern-lounger and afternoon sleeper-upon-benches, as familiarly addressing the heir apparent as "Hal" and "lad," supplies a good instance of Shakespeare's method--noticed by Maurice Morgann--of making a character _act and speak from those parts of the composition which are inferred only and not distinctly shown_; but to the initiated, including Southampton and his friends, who knew the bumptious self-sufficiency of Shakespeare's living model, and who followed the developing characterisation from play to play, the effect of such bold dramatic strokes must have been irresistibly diverting.

It is difficult now to realise the avidity with which such publications as Florio's _First_ and _Second Fruites_ were welcomed from the press and read by the cultured, or culture-seeking, public of his day. Italy being then regarded as the centre of culture and fashion a colloquial knowledge of Italian was a fashionable necessity. A reference in a current play to an aphorism of Florio's or to a characteristic passage from the proverbial philosophy of which he constructs his Italian-English conversations, which would pass unnoticed now, would be readily recognised by a fashionable Elizabethan audience.

When Shakespeare, through the utterances of the prince, characterises Falstaff by suggestion upon his first appearance in the play in the following lines:

"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,"

for the benefit of his initiated friends he links up and continues Florio's characterisation as Parolles and Falstaff, and in the remainder of the passage,

"What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours
are 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 flame-coloured taffeta,"

suggests Florio's character from his own utterances in the _Second Fruites_, where one of the characters holds forth as follows:

"As for me, I never will be able, nor am I able, to be willing but to
love whatsoever pleaseth women, to whom I dedicate, yield, and
consecrate what mortal thing soever I possess, and I say, that a
salad, a woman and a capon, as yet was never out of season."

A consideration of certain of the divergences between the _dramatis personæ_ of the _First Part of Henry IV._ and the _Second Part of Henry IV._, made in the light of the thread of subjective evidence in the plays of the Sonnet period, may give us some new clues in determining the relative periods of their original composition.

In the _First Part of Henry IV._ the hostess of the tavern is referred to as a young and beautiful woman in Act I. Scene ii., as follows:

FALSTAFF.... And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

PRINCE. 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 quiddities?
What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

PRINCE. 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.

PRINCE. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

FAL. No, I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. */

PRINCE. Yes, 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 prithee, 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.

Falstaff's impertinent and suggestive reference to the prince's intimacy with the hostess, not being taken well, he quickly gives the conversation a turn to cover up the mistake he finds he has made. It is palpable that the characterisation of the hostess in the _First Part of Henry IV._, in its original form, was not the same as that presented in the _Second Part_ of this play in which she is represented as Mistress Quickly, an old, unattractive, and garrulous widow. In the _First Part of Henry IV._ she is mentioned only once as Mistress Quickly. In Act III. Scene iii. the prince addresses her under this name and inquires about her husband.

PRINCE. What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband? I
love him well; he is an honest man.

This single mention of the hostess as Mistress Quickly is evidently an interpolation made at the period of the revision of this play late in 1597, or early in 1598. It is also probable that the revision at this time was made with the intention of linking the action of the _First Part_ to the _Second Part_ of the play, the outline of which Shakespeare was probably planning at that time.

The dramatic time of the _First Part_ of the play has been estimated as at the outside covering a period of three months, and of the _Second Part_, a period of two months. No long interval is supposed to have elapsed between the action of the two parts; yet, in the _First Part_ of the play the hostess is young, attractive, and has a husband. In the _Second Part_, she is old, unattractive, and is a widow. This divergence is evidently to be accounted for by the fact that the _First Part of Henry IV._ in its earliest, and unrevised, form was written, not long after the composition of _Love's Labour's Won_ (_All's Well that Ends Well_ in its early form), and during the estrangement between Southampton and Shakespeare in 1594, caused by the nobleman's relations with the "dark lady," that "most sweet wench," "my hostess of the tavern."

I have indicated a certain continuity and link of characterisation between Parolles, as we leave him in _All's Well that Ends Well_, and Falstaff, as we first encounter him in the _First Part of Henry IV._ I shall now demonstrate parallels between the characterisation of Falstaff in the _First Part of Henry IV._, and the tone and spirit of the conversations between the imaginary characters of Florio's _Second Fruites_. Fewer resemblances are to be found between the _Second Fruites_ and the _Second Part of Henry IV._ From this I infer that when Shakespeare composed the _First Part of Henry IV._ in its original form, his personal acquaintance with Florio was recent and limited, and that he developed his characterisation of Falstaff in that portion of the play largely from Florio's self-revelation in the _Second Fruites_, and that in continuing this characterisation later on, in the _Second Part_ of the play, he reinforced it from a closer personal observation of the idiosyncrasies of his prototype.

The Earl of Southampton, who was shadowed forth as Bertram in _Love's Labour's Won_, with Parolles as his factotum,--representing Florio in that capacity,--becomes the prince in _Henry IV._, while Florio becomes Falstaff. The _First Part_ of the play in its original form reflected their connection and the affair of the "dark lady" in 1593-94. The _First Part of Henry IV._, in its revised form, and the _Second Part of Henry IV._ reflect a resumed, or a continued, familiarity between Southampton and Florio in 1598. This leads me to infer that Florio may again have accompanied Southampton when he left England with Sir Robert Cecil for the French Court in February 1598, in much the same capacity as he had served him on his first visit to France in 1592, when they were first reflected as Bertram and Parolles.

In the original development of the characterisation of Parolles, Armado, and Falstaff, I am convinced that Shakespeare worked, not only from observation of his prototype in their daily intercourse, but that he also studied Florio's mental and moral angles and literary mannerisms in his extant productions. If Armado's letters to Jaquenetta and to the King be compared with Florio's dedication of his _Second Fruites_--which was published in 1591, several months preceding the original composition of _Love's Labour's Lost_--and also with his "Address to the Reader," a similitude will be found that certainly passes coincidence. A comparison of Parolles' and Falstaff's opportunist and materialistic philosophy with Florio's outlook on life as we find it unconsciously exhibited in his _Second Fruites_, reveals a characteristic unity that plainly displays intentional parody on Shakespeare's part.

Didactic literature seldom presents the real character and workaday opinions and beliefs of a writer. The teacher generally speaks from a height transcending his ordinary levels of thought and action. In Florio's _Second Fruites_ his intention is didactic only in relation to imparting a colloquial knowledge of Italian. In this endeavour he arranges a series of twelve conversations on matters of everyday life between imaginary characters, who are, presumably, of about the same social quality as his usual pupils--the younger gentry of the time. In these talks his intention was to be entirely natural and to reproduce, what he conceived to be, ordinary conversation between gentlemen of fashion. In doing this he reveals ethics, manners, and morals of a decidedly Falstaffian flavour. The gross and satyr-like estimate of women he displays; his primping enjoyment of apparel; the gusto with which he converses of things to eat and drink--of ale, and wine, and capons; his distrust of the minions of the law; his knowledge and horror of arrest and imprisonment, and his frankly animal zest of life, all suggest Shakespeare's knowledge of the book as well as the man.

As Florio's _Second Fruites_ is not easily accessible to the general reader, a few extracts may serve to exhibit the characteristic resemblances to Shakespeare's delineation of Falstaff.

The twelve chapters of the work are headed as follows:

The first chapter, "Of rising in the morning and of things belonging
to the chamber and to apparel."

The second, "For common speech in the morning between friends;
wherein is described a set of tennis."

The third, "Of familiar morning communication; wherein many
courtesies are handled, and the manner of visiting and saluting the
sick, and of riding, with all that belongeth to a horse."

The fourth chapter, "Wherein is set down a dinner for six persons,
between whom there fall many pleasant discourses concerning meat and
repast."

The fifth, "Wherein discourse is held of play and many things thereto
appertaining, a game of primero and of chess."

The sixth chapter, "Concerning many familiar and ceremonious
compliments among six gentlemen who talk of many pleasant matters,
but especially of divers necessary, profitable, civil, and proverbial
receipts for a traveller."

The seventh, "Between two gentlemen who talk of arms, and of the art
of fencing, and of buying and selling."

The eighth chapter, "Between James, and Lippa, his man, wherein they
talk of many pleasant and delightsome jests, and in it is described
an unpleasant lodging, an illformed old woman, also the beautiful
parts that a woman ought to have to be accounted fair in all
perfection, and pleasantly blazoned a counterfeit lazy and
naught-worth servant."

The ninth, "Between Cæzar and Tiberio; wherein they discourse of news
of the Court, of courtiers of this day, and of many other matters of
delight."

The tenth chapter, "Between gentlemen and a servant; wherein they
talk of going to supper, and familiar speech late in the evening."

The eleventh, "Wherein they talk of going to bed, and many things
thereto belonging."

The twelfth, "Wherein proverbially and pleasantly discourse is held
of love and women."

He makes one of his characters end this last chapter as follows:

"As for me, I never will be able, nor am I able, to be willing but to
love whatsoever pleaseth women, to whom I dedicate, yield, and
consecrate what mortal thing soever I possess, and I say, that a
salad, a woman, and a capon as yet was never out of season."

The remarkable resemblance between the sentiments here expressed and the characteristics attributed to Falstaff by Prince Henry in the passage quoted above from _Henry IV._, Act I. Scene ii., suggest Shakespeare's knowledge of the _Second Fruites_.

He describes the wardrobe of a man of fashion with envious unction, giving a minute inventory of his shirts, handkerchiefs, ruffs, cuffs, towels, quoises, shoes, buskins, daggers, swords, gloves, doublets, jerkins, gowns, hats, caps, and boots. The very superabundance recalling, by contrast, the paucity in this regard in the cases of Armado and Falstaff.

The philosophy of his conversations is selfish and worldly-wise to a degree, with nowhere the slightest suggestion of ideality or altruism.

"T. From those that I do trust, good Lord deliver me, from such as I
mistrust, I'll harmless come to be.

G. He gives me so many good words I cannot fail but trust him.

T. Wot you not that fair words and foul deeds are wont to make both
fools and wise men fain.

G. I know it, but if he beat me with a sword, I will beat him again
with a scabbard.

T. What, will you give him bread for cake then?

G. If any man wrong thee, wrong him again, or else be sure to
remember it."

In the conversation concerning meats and repast he is Gargantuan in his descriptions.

"S. The meat is coming in, let us set down.

C. I would wash first if it were not to trouble Robert.

S. What, ho! Bring some water to wash our hands.

ROBERT. Here it is fresh and good to drinke for a neede.

H. God hath made water for other things than to drinke.

C. Hast thou not heard that water rots, not only men, but stakes?

R. Yet men say that water was made to drinke, to saile, and to wash.

M. It was good to drinke when men did eat acornes.

* * * * *

T. I pray you set down for I have a good stomach.

N. As for a good stomach, I do yield a jot unto you.

S. My masters, the meat cooles.

* * * * *

S. My masters, sit down; every man take his place.

N. Tush, I pray you, sit down.

C. With obliging you I shall show myself unmannerly.

H. Of courtesie, Master M., sit here between us two.

M. Virtue consists in the midst quothe the devil when he found
himself between two nuns.

S. Bring hither that salad, those steaks, that leg of mutton, that
piece of beef with all the boiled meats we have.

S. I pray you, every man serve himself, let everyone cut where he
please, and seek the best morsels.

N. Truly these meats are very well seasoned.

* * * * *

S. Call for drinke when you please, and what kind of wine you like
best.

N. Give me some wine but put some water in it.

S. You may well enough drinke it pure, for our wines are all borne
under the sign of Aquarius.

M. Do you not know that wine watered is esteemed a vile thing?

C. Give me a cup of beere, or else a bowl of ale.

S. I pray you, do not put that sodden water into your bellie.

C. I like it as well as wine, chiefly this hot weather.

T. He that drinks wine drinks blood, he that drinks water drinks
fleame (phlegm).

H. I love to drink wine after the Dutch fashion.

T. How do they drinke it, I pray you?

H. In the morning, pure; at dinner, without water, and at night as it
comes from the vessel.

M. I like this rule; they are wise, and God's blessing light upon
them.

H. A slice of bacon would make us taste this wine well.

S. What, ho! set that gammon of bacon on the board.

* * * * *

M. God be thanked, I am at a truce with my stomach.

T. In faith, I would stay until the bells do ring.

S. You were not fasting then when you came here?

M. I had only drunk a little Malmslie.

T. And I a good draught of Muscatine, and eat a little bread.

S. Bring the meat away, in God's name.

R. The meat is not enough yet.

* * * * *

S. Take away that empty pot, set some bread upon the table and put
some salt in the salt cellar, and make roome for the second messe.

R. Now, comes the roast.

S. Welcome may with his flowers.

T. And good speed may our barke have.

S. The Jews do not look for their Messias with more devotion than I
have looked for the roast meat.

* * * * *

S. Set that capon upon the table, and those chickens, those rabbits,
and that hen, that goose; those woodcock, those snipes, those larks,
those quails, those partridges, those pheasants and that pasty of
venison.

R. Here is everything ready.

N. You have led us to a wedding.

S. I pray you, cut up that hen, I pray God it be tender.

C. Alas, I think she was dam to the cock that crowed to St. Peter.

S. I thought that so soon as I saw her.

N. I beseech you, sir, will you carve some of that pheasant?

M. They be offices that I love to do.

N. I will one day fill my bellie full of them.

S. Master Andrew, will it please you to eat an egg?

A. With all my heart, sir, so be it new laid.

S. As new as may be; laid this morning.

A. I love new-laid eggs well.

S. Sirra, go cause a couple of eggs to be made readie.

R. By and by, will you have them hard or soft?

A. It is no matter, I love them better raire.

T. An egg of an hour, bread of a day, kidd of a month, wine of six,
flesh of a year, fish of ten, a woman of fifteen, and a friend of a
hundred, he must have that will be merrie.

* * * * *

S. What aileth Master T. that he looks so sad?

T. I am not very well at ease.

S. What feel you, where grieves it you?

T. I feel my stomach a little over-cloyde.

N. Shall I teach you a good medicine?

* * * * *

H. My mother, of happy memorie, was wont to tell me that a pill of
wheat, of a hen the days work sweat, and some vine juice that were
neat was best physick I could eat.

M. Your mother was a woman worthy to govern a kingdom.

* * * * *

S. My masters, you see here the period of this poor dinner; the best
dish you have had hath been your welcome.

H. As that hath fed our minds so have the others fed our bodies well.

S. It grieves me that you have been put to such penance, but yet I
hope you will excuse me.

C. If doing such penance a man might win heaven, O sweet penance for
a man to do every day."

Portions of the sixth chapter, with its talk of divers necessary prophetic and proverbial precepts for a traveller, evidently supplied Shakespeare with the hint for Scene iv. Act II. of the _First Part of Henry IV._, between Falstaff and Prince Hal, wherein Falstaff personates the prince's father.

"S. Mister Peeler, whatsoever I shall tell you, according to my
wonted manner, I will speak as plainly unto you as though you were my
son, and therefore pardon me, if I shall seem eyther too familiar, or
too homely with you.

P. Say on boldly, for I shall be very proud if it please you to
account me as your child, and that I may repute you as my father.

S. First, my loving Mister Peeler, if you purpose to come unto the
wished end of your travel, have always your mind and thought on God."

This highly moral preamble is followed by much ungodly, worldly wisdom.

"S. And if you will be a traveller and wander safely through the
world, wheresoever you come have always the eyes of a falcon that you
may see far, the ears of an ass that you may hear well, the face of
an ape that you may be ready to laugh, the mouth of a hog to eat all
things, the shoulder of a camel that you may bear anything with
patience, the legs of a stag that you may flee from dangers, and see
that you never want two bags very full; that is, one of patience, for
with it a man overcomes all things, and another of money, for,

They that have good store of crownes,
Are called lordes, though they be clownes;

and gold hath the very same virtue that charity hath, it covereth a
multitude of faults, and golden hammers break all locks, and golden
meedes do reach all heights, have always your hand on your hat, and
in your purse, for,

A purse or cap used more or less a year
Gain many friends, and do not cost thee dear.

Travelling by the way in winter time, honour your companion, so shall
you avoid falling into dangerous places. In summer go before, so
shall not the dust come into your eyes. Setting at board, if there be
but little bread, hold it fast in your hand, if small store of flesh,
take hold on the bone, if no store of wine, drink often, and unless
you be required, never offer any man either salt, etc."

The ninth chapter, wherein they "plausibly discourse of news of the Court and of courtiers of this day, and of many other matters of delight," is full of Falstaffian paradox, and reminiscent of Justice Shallow's relations with Jane Nightwork.

"C. What is become of your neighbour, I mean the old doating man
grown twice a child?

T. As old as you see him he has of late wedded a young wench of
fifteen years old.

C. Then he and she will make up the whole bible together; I mean the
old and new testament.

T. To an old cat a young mouse.

C. Old flesh makes good broth.

T. What has become of his son that I see him not?

C. He was put in prison for having beaten an enemy of his.

T. Be wrong or right prison is a spite.

C. A man had need look to himself in this world.

T. What is become of his fair daughter whom he married to what you
call him that was sometime our neighbour?

C. She spins crooked spindles for her husband and sends him into
Cornwall without ship or boat.

T. What, does she make him wear the stag's crest then?

C. You have guessed right and have hit the nail on the head.

T. His blood is of great force and virtue then.

C. What virtue can his blood have, tell me in good faith?

T. It is good to break diamonds withal.

C. Why, man's blood cannot break diamonds.

T. Yes, but the blood of a he-goat will.

C. Moreover, he may challenge to have part in heaven by it.

T. What matter is it for him then to be a he-goat, or a stumpbuck, or
a kid, or a chamois, a stag, or a brill, a unicorn, or an elephant so
he may be safe, but how may that be, I pray thee, tell me?

C. I will tell thee, do not you know that whosoever is made a cuckold
by his wife, either he knows it, or he knows it not.

T. That I know, then what will you infer upon it?

C. If he knows it he must needs be patient, and therefore a martyr,
if he knows it not, he is innocent, and you know that martyrs and
innocents shall be saved, which if you grant, it followeth that all
cuckolds shall obtain paradise.

T. Methinks then that women are not greatly to be blamed if they seek
their husbands' eternal salvation, but are rather to be commended as
causes of a noble and worthy effect."

He speaks with evident feeling of one who is imprisoned for debt.

"T. Take heed of debts; temper thy desires, and moderate thy tongue.

C. It is a devilish thing to owe money.

T. For all that he is so proud that though he have need of patience
he calleth for revenge.

C. Could not he save himself out of the hands of those catchpoles,
counter guardians, or sergeants?

T. Seeking to save himself by flight from that rascality he had
almost left the lining of his cap behind.

C. I am sorry for his mischance, for with his jests, toys, fooleries,
and pleasant conceits, he would have made Heraclitus himself to burst
his heart with laughing.

T. Did you ever go see him yet?

C. I would not go into prison to fetch one of my eyes if I had left
it there.

T. Yet there be some honest men there.

C. And where will you have them but in places of persecution?

T. You have reason.

C. I would not be painted there so much do I hate and loathe the
place."

Speaking of the Court and courtiers he says:

"C. The favours of the Court are like fair weather in winter, or
clouds in summer, and Court, in former time, was counted death.

T. It is still Court for the vicious, but death for the virtuous,
learned and wise.

C. Seven days doth the Court regard a virtuous man, be he never so
mannerly, well-brought up, and of gentle conditions. That is, the
first day he makes a show of himself, he is counted gold; the second,
silver; the third, copper; the fourth, tin; the fifth, lead; the
sixth, dross; and the seventh, nothing at all, whereas the contrary
happeneth of the vicious.

T. Yet the virtuous have sometimes got rich gifts there.

C. Yea, but they come as seldom as the year of jubilee.

* * * * *

T. Yet some of them are so courteous, so gentle, so kind, so liberal,
so bountiful, that envy itself cannot choose but love them, and blame
honour them, and, I think, there is no Court in the world that hath
more nobility in it than ours.

* * * * *

T. But tell me truth, had you never the mind to become a courtier?

C. He that is well, let him not stir, for if in removing he break his
leg, at his own peril be it.

T. Where there is life there is means; where means, entertainment;
where entertainment, hope; where hope, there is comfort."

How closely this last passage resembles the philosophy of Parolles, after his disgrace, in Act IV. Scene iii. of _All's Well that Ends Well_.

PAR. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
'Twould burst at this. Captain, I'll be no more;
But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft
As captain shall: simply the thing I am
Shall make me live.

* * * * *

There's place and means for every man alive.

The familiarity of the public with the character of Falstaff, under the name of Sir John Oldcastle, is evidenced by the frequency with which both this play and character are referred to by the latter name even after the publication of the _First Part of Henry IV._ in 1598, with the name changed to Falstaff. If this play was originally composed, as is usually suggested, in 1596 or 1597, the short period which it could have been presented in its earlier form, and before its revision in the beginning of 1598, would scarcely allow for the confirmed acquaintance of the public with the name of Sir John Oldcastle in connection with the characterisation developed by Shakespeare. While Shakespeare took this name from the old play of _The Famous Victories of Henry V._, there is no similarity between the characterisation of the persons presented under that name in the two plays.

Nicholas Rowe, Shakespeare's earliest biographer, is responsible for the report that the change of the name of this character from Oldcastle to Falstaff was made by Shakespeare at the command of the Queen, and owing to the protest of Lord Cobham. It is not unlikely that there was some basis of truth for this report, nor improbable that Lord Cobham's alleged objection was caused by the misrepresentations of Shakespeare's literary rivals, including Florio, whose own "ox had been gored."

In 1597 the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports having become vacant, Sir Robert Sidney, who had been long absent from England as Governor of Flushing, and was desirous of returning, made application for the office, being aided in his suit by the Earl of Essex and others of his friends in Essex's party. Sir Robert Cecil, while encouraging Sidney and professing friendship, secretly aided Lord Cobham for the post. Sidney's military fitness for so responsible a charge was constantly urged against Cobham's lack of martial experience, but the Queen, after a long delay, during which much heat developed between the contestants and their friends, finally decided in favour of her relative, Lord Cobham. The Earl of Southampton was one of Sir Robert Sidney's most intimate friends and ardent admirers, and must have taken some interest in this long-drawn-out rivalry. It is possible that Shakespeare, instigated by Southampton, may have introduced some personal reflections suggestive of Cobham's military inadequacy into the performance of the play at this crucial period, Cobham's alleged descent from the historical Oldcastle lending the suggestion its personal significance.

The sixth _book_ of Sonnets was written either late in 1596, or in 1597. A line in the first Sonnet of this book (Thorpe's 66) implies, on Shakespeare's part, a recent unpleasant experience with the authorities:

"And art made tongue-tied by authority."

It is apparent that whatever was the cause, some difficulty arose in about 1597 regarding the name Oldcastle. Nicholas Rowe's report is substantiated by Shakespeare's own apologetic words in the Epilogue to _Henry IV., Part II._:

"If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will
continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair
Katherine of France; where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die
of a sweat, unless already a' be killed with your hard opinions; for
Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man."

If Shakespeare was compelled to alter this name for the reasons reported by Nicholas Rowe, it is not unlikely that Florio and his literary allies helped in some manner to arouse the resentment of Lord Cobham. In altering the play in 1598, and changing the name of Sir John Oldcastle to Sir John Falstaff, I am convinced that Shakespeare intentionally made his caricature of John Florio more transparent by choosing a name having the same initials as his, and furthermore, that in altering the historical name of _Fastolfe_ to _Falstaff_, he intended to indicate Florio's relations with Southampton as a _false-staff_, a misleader of youth. The Epilogue of the _Second Part of Henry IV._, while denying a representation of the historical Sir John Oldcastle in the words "this is not the man," implies at the same time _that some other personal application is intended_ in the characterisation of Falstaff.

The _First Part of Henry IV._, with its significant allusion to the "Humourous Conceits of Sir John Falstaff" on the title-page, was entered on the Stationers' Registers under date of 25th February 1598, and was published within a short period. That John Florio recognised Shakespeare's satire and personal intention in choosing a character with his own initials he shows within a month or two of this date in his "Address to the Reader," prefixed to his _Worlde of Wordes_. He accuses a person, whom he indicates under the initials "H.S." of having made a satirical use of his initials "J.F." It is evident that in using the letters "H.S." he is not giving the actual initials of his antagonist. Addressing "H.S." he says: "And might not a man, that can do as much as you (that is reade) finde as much matter out of H.S. as you did out of J.F.?" He says the person at whom he aims is a "reader" and a "writer" too; he also indicates him as a maker of plays. He says:

"Let Aristopanes and his comedians _make plaies_, and scowre their
mouthes on Socrates; those very mouthes they make to vilifie, shall
be meanes to amplifie his vertue. And it was not easie for Cato to
speake evill, so was it not usuall for him to heare evill. It may be
Socrates would not kicke againe, if an asse did kicke at him, yet
some that cannot be so wise, and will not be so patient as Socrates,
will for such jadish tricks give the asse his due burthen of
bastonadas. Let H.S. hisse, and his complices quarrell, and all
breake their gals, _I have a great faction of good writers to bandie
with me_."

Florio here gives palpable evidence of the fact that his was not an isolated case, but that he was banded with a literary faction in hostility to Shakespeare, which included Roydon, who published _Willobie his Avisa_, in 1594, again in 1596, and again in 1599; Chapman, who, in 1593, attacked Shakespeare in the early _Histriomastix_, and again in 1599 in its revision, as well as in his poem to Harriot, appended to his _Achilles Shield_ in the same year; and Marston, who joined Chapman in opposition to Shakespeare, and helped in the revision of _Histriomastix_. In the words "Let H.S. hisse, and his complices quarrell, etc.," Florio also gives evidence that Shakespeare at this period had literary allies. In the story of the Sonnets I shall show that Dekker was Shakespeare's principal ally in what has been called the "War of the Theatres," which is supposed to have commenced at this time, and, bearing in mind Chettle's recorded collaboration with Dekker at this same period, it is evident that he also sided with Shakespeare.

A careful search of Elizabethan literature fails to bring to light _any other writer who makes a satirical use of the initials "J.F.," or any record of a writer bearing initials in any way resembling "H.S." who in any manner approximates to Florio's description of a "reader" and a "writer too" as well as a maker of plays_.

I have already shown Chapman's references to Shakespeare in the dedication of _The Shadow of Night_. His allusion to Shakespeare as "passion-driven" at that date (1594) being a reference to his relations with the "dark lady." That he suggests Shakespeare, in his capacity of "reader" to the Earl of Southampton, and that he takes flings at his social quality in the expression "Judgements butcher," which I recognise as an allusion to his father's trade, and in the words "Intonsi Catones," as a reference to his provincial breeding as well as to the flowing manner in which he wore his hair. In elucidating the meaning of the initials "H.S.," Florio still more coarsely indicates our country-bred poet, and accuses him of being a parasite, a bloodsucker, and a monster of lasciviousness. His abusive descriptions are given in Latin and Italian phrases commencing with the letters H and S. His reason for using the letter H no doubt being that _there is no W in either Italian or Latin, H being its nearest phonetic equivalent_. Let us consider the whole passage.

"There is another sort of leering curs, that rather snarle than bite,
whereof I coulde instance in one, who lighting upon a good sonnet of
a gentlemans, a friend of mine, that loved better to be a Poet, then
to be counted so, called the author a rymer, notwithstanding he had
more skill in good Poetrie, then my slie gentleman seemed to have in
good manners or humanitie. But my quarrell is to a tooth-lesse dog,
that hateth where he cannot hurt, and would faine bite when he hath
no teeth. His name is H.S. Do not take it for the Romane H.S. for he
is not of so much worth, unlesse it be as H.S. is twice as much and a
halfe as halfe an As. But value you him how you will, I am sure he
highly valueth himselfe. This fellow, this H.S. reading (for I would
you should knowe he is _a reader and a writer too_) under my last
epistle to the reader J.F. made as familiar a word of F. as if I had
bin his brother. Now Recte fit oculis magister tuis, said an ancient
writer to a much-like reading gramarian-pedante[31]: God save your
eie-sight, sir, or at least your insight. And might not a man, that
can do as much as you (that is, reade) finde as much matter out of
H.S. as you did out of J.F.? As for example H.S. why may it not stand
as well for Hæres Stultitiæ, as for Homo Simplex? or for Hircus
Satiricus, as well as for any of them? And this in Latine, besides
Hedera Seguace, Harpia Subata, Humore Superbo, Hipocrito Simulatore
in Italian. And in English world without end. Huffe Snuffe, Horse
Stealer, Hob Sowter, Hugh Sot, Humphrey Swineshead, Hodge Sowgelder.
Now Master H.S. if this do gaule you, forbeare kicking hereafter, and
in the meane time you may make a plaister of your dried Marjoram. I
have seene in my daies an inscription, harder to finde out the
meaning, and yet easier for a man to picke a better meaning out of
it, if he be not a man of H.S. condition."

It will be noticed that Florio's reflections upon Shakespeare's breeding, morals, and manners, while couched in coarser terms, are of the same nature as Chapman's. Ben Jonson,--as shall later be shown,--in _Every Man out of his Humour_, casts similar slurs at Shakespeare's provincial origin. It is likely that the friend whose sonnet had been criticised and who was called a "rymer" by "H.S." was none other than George Chapman. The fifth _book_ of Shakespeare's Sonnets to the Earl of Southampton was written against Chapman's advances upon his patron's favour. In the tenth Sonnet in this _book_, which is numbered as the 38th in Thorpe's arrangement, Shakespeare refers to Chapman as a rhymer in the lines:

"Be thou the tenth Muse ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which _rhymers_ invocate."

The few records concerning Florio, from which we may derive any idea of his personal appearance and manner, suggest a very singular individuality. There was evidently something peculiar about his face; he was undoubtedly witty and worldly-wise, a braggart, a sycophant, and somewhat of a buffoon. He was imbued with an exaggerated idea of his own importance, and possessed of most unblushing assurance. In 1591 he signed his address "To the Reader," prefixed to his _Second Fruites_, "Resolute John Florio," a prefix which he persisted thereafter in using in similar addresses in other publications. In 1600 Sir William Cornwallis (who at that time had seen Florio's translation of _Montaigne's Essays_ in MS.) writes of him: "Montaigne now speaks good English. It is done by a fellow less beholding to nature for his fortune than wit, yet lesser for his face than fortune. The truth is, he looks more like a good fellow than a wise man, and yet he is wise beyond either his fortune or education."

Between the year 1598 (when Florio dedicated his _World of Wordes_ to the Earl of Southampton) and 1603, when Southampton was released from the Tower upon the accession of James I., we have no record of Florio's connection with that nobleman. It was undoubtedly due to Southampton's influence in the new Court that Florio became reader to Queen Anna and Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to James I. His native vanity and arrogance blossomed into full bloom in this connection, in which he seems to have been tolerated as a sort of superior Court jester. The extravagant and grandiloquent diction of his early dedications read like commonplace prose when compared with the inflated verbosity of his later dedications to Queen Anna. In 1613 he issued a new edition of _Montaigne's Essays_ which he dedicated to the Queen. A comparison of the flattering sycophancy of this dedication with the quick transition of his tone in his curt and insolent address "To the Reader" in the same book will give some idea of the man's shallow bumptiousness.

"TO THE MOST ROYAL AND RENOWNED MAJESTIE OF THE HIGHBORN PRINCESS
ANNA OF DENMARK

By the grace of God, Queen of England, Scotland, France and Ireland.
Imperial and Incomparable Majestic. Seeing with me all of me is in
your royal possession, and whatever pieces of mine have hitherto
under the starres passed the public view, come now of right to be
under the predomination of a power that both contains all their
perfections and hath influences of a more sublime nature. I could not
but also take in this part (whereof time had worn out the edition)
which the world had long since had of mine and lay it at your sacred
feet as a memorial of my devoted duty, and to show that where I am I
must be all I am and cannot stand dispersed in my observance being
wholly (and therein happy)--Your Sacred Majesties most humble and
Loyal servant,

JOHN FLORIO.

TO THE READER

Enough, if not too much, hath been said of this translation, if the
faults found even by my own selfe in the first impression be now by
the printer corrected, as he was directed, the work is much amended;
if not, know, that through this mine attendance on her Majestic I
could not intend it: and blame not Neptune for thy second shipwrecke.
Let me conclude with this worthy mans daughter of alliance 'Que l'en
semble donc lecteur.'

Still Resolute

JOHN FLORIO,
Gentleman Extraordinary and Groome of the Privy Chamber."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 29: _Shakespeare and the Rival Poet_, 1903; _Mistress Davenant, the Dark Lady of Shakespeare's Sonnets_, 1913.]

[Footnote 30: While correcting proof sheets for this book I have found evidence that Florio was living in Oxford, and already married in September 1585. The Register of St. Peter's in the Baylie in Oxford records the baptism of Joane Florio, daughter of John Florio, upon the 24th of September in that year. Wood's _City of Oxford_, vol. iii. p. 258. Ed. by Andrew Clark.]

[Footnote 31: A grammar-school pedant, alluding to Shakespeare's limited education.]