King. O my Sonne!Heauen put it in thy minde to take it hence,That thou might'st ioyne the more, thy Fathers loue,Pleading so wisely, in excuse of it.Come hither Harrie, sit thou by my bedde,And heare (I thinke, the very latest CounsellThat euer I shall breath: Heauen knowes, my Sonne)By what by-pathes, and indirect crook'd-wayesI met this Crowne: and I my selfe know wellHow troublesome it sate vpon my head.To thee, it shall descend with better Quiet,Better Opinion, better Confirmation:For all the soyle of the Atchieuement goesWith me, into the Earth. It seem'd in mee,But as an Honour snatch'd with boyst'rous hand,And I had many liuing, to vpbraideMy gaine of it, by their Assistances,Which dayly grew to Quarrell, and to Blood-shed,Wounding supposed Peace.All these bold Feares,Thou seest (with perill) I haue answered:For all my Reigne, hath beene but as a SceneActing that argument. And now my deathChanges the Moode: For what in me, was purchas'd,Falles vpon thee, in a more Fayrer sort.So thou, the Garland wear'st successiuely.Yet, though thou stand'st more sure, then I could do,Thou art not firme enough, since greefes are greene:And all thy Friends, which thou must make thy FriendsHaue but their stings, and teeth, newly tak'n out,By whose fell working, I was first aduanc'd,And by whose power, I well might lodge a FeareTo be againe displac'd. Which to auoyd,I cut them off: and had a purpose nowTo leade out many to the Holy Land;Least rest, and lying still, might make them lookeToo neere vnto my State.Therefore (my Harrie)Be it thy course to busie giddy MindesWith Forraigne Quarrels: that Action hence borne out,May waste the memory of the former dayes.More would I, but my Lungs are wasted so,That strength of Speech it vtterly deni'de mee.How I came by the Crowne, O heauen forgiue:And grant it may, with thee, in true peace liue
Prince. My gracious Liege:You wonne it, wore it: kept it, gaue it me,Then plaine and right must my possession be;Which I, with more, then with a Common paine,'Gainst all the World, will rightfully maintaine.Enter Lord Iohn of Lancaster, and Warwicke.
King. Looke, looke,Heere comes my Iohn of Lancaster:Iohn. Health, Peace, and Happinesse,To my Royall Father
King. Thou bring'st me happinesse and Peace(Sonne Iohn:)But health (alacke) with youthfull wings is flowneFrom this bare, wither'd Trunke. Vpon thy sightMy worldly businesse makes a period.Where is my Lord of Warwicke?Prin. My Lord of Warwicke
King. Doth any name particular, belongVnto the Lodging, where I first did swoon'd?War. 'Tis call'd Ierusalem, my Noble Lord
King. Laud be to heauen:Euen there my life must end.It hath beene prophesi'de to me many yeares,I should not dye, but in Ierusalem:Which (vainly) I suppos'd the Holy-Land.But beare me to that Chamber, there Ile lye:In that Ierusalem, shall Harry dye.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Shallow, Silence, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Page, and Dauie.
Shal. By Cocke and Pye, you shall not away to night.What Dauy, I say
Fal. You must excuse me, M[aster]. Robert Shallow
Shal. I will not excuse you: you shall not be excused.Excuses shall not be admitted: there is no excuse shallserue: you shall not be excus'd.Why Dauie
Dauie. Heere sir
Shal. Dauy, Dauy, Dauy, let me see (Dauy) let me see: William Cooke, bid him come hither. Sir Iohn, you shal not be excus'd
Dauy. Marry sir, thus: those Precepts cannot beeseru'd: and againe sir, shall we sowe the head-land withWheate?Shal. With red Wheate Dauy. But for William Cook:are there no yong Pigeons?Dauy. Yes Sir.Heere is now the Smithes note, for Shooing,And Plough-Irons
Shal. Let it be cast, and payde: Sir Iohn, you shallnot be excus'd
Dauy. Sir, a new linke to the Bucket must needes bee had: And Sir, doe you meane to stoppe any of Williams Wages, about the Sacke he lost the other day, at Hinckley Fayre? Shal. He shall answer it: Some Pigeons Dauy, a couple of short-legg'd Hennes: a ioynt of Mutton, and any pretty little tine Kickshawes, tell William Cooke
Dauy. Doth the man of Warre, stay all night sir?Shal. Yes Dauy:I will vse him well. A Friend i'th Court, is better then apenny in purse. Vse his men well Dauy, for they are arrantKnaues, and will backe-bite
Dauy. No worse then they are bitten, sir: For theyhaue maruellous fowle linnen
Shallow. Well conceited Dauy: about thy Businesse,Dauy
Dauy. I beseech you sir,To countenance William Visor of Woncot, against ClementPerkes of the hill
Shal. There are many Complaints Dauy, against thatVisor, that Visor is an arrant Knaue, on my knowledge
Dauy. I graunt your Worship, that he is a knaue (Sir:) But yet heauen forbid Sir, but a Knaue should haue some Countenance, at his Friends request. An honest man sir, is able to speake for himselfe, when a Knaue is not. I haue seru'd your Worshippe truely sir, these eight yeares: and if I cannot once or twice in a Quarter beare out a knaue, against an honest man, I haue but a very litle credite with your Worshippe. The Knaue is mine honest Friend Sir, therefore I beseech your Worship, let him bee Countenanc'd
Shal. Go too,I say he shall haue no wrong: Looke about Dauy.Where are you Sir Iohn? Come, off with your Boots.Giue me your hand M[aster]. Bardolfe
Bard. I am glad to see your Worship
Shal. I thanke thee, with all my heart, kinde MasterBardolfe: and welcome my tall Fellow:Come Sir Iohn
Falstaffe. Ile follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. Bardolfe, looke to our Horsses. If I were saw'de into Quantities, I should make foure dozen of such bearded Hermites staues, as Master Shallow. It is a wonderfull thing to see the semblable Coherence of his mens spirits, and his: They, by obseruing of him, do beare themselues like foolish Iustices: Hee, by conuersing with them, is turn'd into a Iustice-like Seruingman. Their spirits are so married in Coniunction, with the participation of Society, that they flocke together in consent, like so many Wilde-Geese. If I had a suite to Mayster Shallow, I would humour his men, with the imputation of beeing neere their Mayster. If to his Men, I would currie with Maister Shallow, that no man could better command his Seruants. It is certaine, that either wise bearing, or ignorant Carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore, let men take heede of their Companie. I will deuise matter enough out of this Shallow, to keepe Prince Harry in continuall Laughter, the wearing out of sixe Fashions (which is foure Tearmes) or two Actions, and he shall laugh with Interuallums. O it is much that a Lye (with a slight Oath) and a iest (with a sadde brow) will doe, with a Fellow, that neuer had the Ache in his shoulders. O you shall see him laugh, till his Face be like a wet Cloake, ill laid vp
Shal. Sir Iohn
Falst. I come Master Shallow, I come Master Shallow.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter the Earle of Warwicke, and the Lord Chiefe Iustice.
Warwicke. How now, my Lord Chiefe Iustice, whetheraway?Ch.Iust. How doth the King?Warw. Exceeding well: his CaresAre now, all ended
Ch.Iust. I hope, not dead
Warw. Hee's walk'd the way of Nature,And to our purposes, he liues no more
Ch.Iust. I would his Maiesty had call'd me with him,The seruice, that I truly did his life,Hath left me open to all iniuries
War. Indeed I thinke the yong King loues you not
Ch.Iust. I know he doth not, and do arme my selfeTo welcome the condition of the Time,Which cannot looke more hideously vpon me,Then I haue drawne it in my fantasie.Enter Iohn of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Clarence.
War. Heere come the heauy Issue of dead Harrie:O, that the liuing Harrie had the temperOf him, the worst of these three Gentlemen:How many Nobles then, should hold their places,That must strike saile, to Spirits of vilde sort?Ch.Iust. Alas, I feare, all will be ouer-turn'd
Iohn. Good morrow Cosin Warwick, good morrow
Glou. Cla. Good morrow, Cosin
Iohn. We meet, like men, that had forgot to speake
War. We do remember: but our ArgumentIs all too heauy, to admit much talke
Ioh. Well: Peace be with him, that hath made vs heauyCh.Iust. Peace be with vs, least we be heauier
Glou. O, good my Lord, you haue lost a friend indeed:And I dare sweare, you borrow not that faceOf seeming sorrow, it is sure your owne
Iohn. Though no man be assur'd what grace to finde,You stand in coldest expectation.I am the sorrier, would 'twere otherwise
Cla. Wel, you must now speake Sir Iohn Falstaffe faire,Which swimmes against your streame of Quality
Ch.Iust. Sweet Princes: what I did, I did in Honor,Led by th' Imperiall Conduct of my Soule,And neuer shall you see, that I will beggeA ragged, and fore-stall'd Remission.If Troth, and vpright Innocency fayle me,Ile to the King (my Master) that is dead,And tell him, who hath sent me after him
War. Heere comes the Prince.Enter Prince Henrie.
Ch.Iust. Good morrow: and heauen saue your MaiestyPrince. This new, and gorgeous Garment, Maiesty,Sits not so easie on me, as you thinke.Brothers, you mixe your Sadnesse with some Feare:This is the English, not the Turkish Court:Not Amurah, an Amurah succeeds,But Harry, Harry: Yet be sad (good Brothers)For (to speake truth) it very well becomes you:Sorrow, so Royally in you appeares,That I will deeply put the Fashion on,And weare it in my heart. Why then be sad,But entertaine no more of it (good Brothers)Then a ioynt burthen, laid vpon vs all.For me, by Heauen (I bid you be assur'd)Ile be your Father, and your Brother too:Let me but beare your Loue, Ile beare your Cares;But weepe that Harrie's dead, and so will I.But Harry liues, that shall conuert those TearesBy number, into houres of Happinesse
Iohn, &c. We hope no other from your Maiesty
Prin. You all looke strangely on me: and you most,You are (I thinke) assur'd, I loue you not
Ch.Iust. I am assur'd (if I be measur'd rightly)Your Maiesty hath no iust cause to hate mee
Pr. No? How might a Prince of my great hopes forgetSo great Indignities you laid vpon me?What? Rate? Rebuke? and roughly send to PrisonTh' immediate Heire of England? Was this easie?May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?Ch.Iust. I then did vse the Person of your Father:The Image of his power, lay then in me,And in th' administration of his Law,Whiles I was busie for the Commonwealth,Your Highnesse pleased to forget my place,The Maiesty, and power of Law, and Iustice,The Image of the King, whom I presented,And strooke me in my very Seate of Iudgement:Whereon (as an Offender to your Father)I gaue bold way to my Authority,And did commit you. If the deed were ill,Be you contented, wearing now the Garland,To haue a Sonne, set your Decrees at naught?To plucke downe Iustice from your awefull Bench?To trip the course of Law, and blunt the SwordThat guards the peace, and safety of your Person?Nay more, to spurne at your most Royall Image,And mocke your workings, in a Second body?Question your Royall Thoughts, make the case yours:Be now the Father, and propose a Sonne:Heare your owne dignity so much prophan'd,See your most dreadfull Lawes, so loosely slighted;Behold your selfe, so by a Sonne disdained:And then imagine me, taking your part,And in your power, soft silencing your Sonne:After this cold considerance, sentence me;And, as you are a King, speake in your State,What I haue done, that misbecame my place,My person, or my Lieges Soueraigntie
Prin. You are right Iustice, and you weigh this well:Therefore still beare the Ballance, and the Sword:And I do wish your Honors may encrease,Till you do liue, to see a Sonne of mineOffend you, and obey you, as I did.So shall I liue, to speake my Fathers words:Happy am I, that haue a man so bold,That dares do Iustice, on my proper Sonne;And no lesse happy, hauing such a Sonne,That would deliuer vp his Greatnesse so,Into the hands of Iustice. You did commit me:For which, I do commit into your hand,Th' vnstained Sword that you haue vs'd to beare:With this Remembrance; That you vse the sameWith the like bold, iust, and impartiall spiritAs you haue done 'gainst me. There is my hand,You shall be as a Father, to my Youth:My voice shall sound, as you do prompt mine eare,And I will stoope, and humble my Intents,To your well-practis'd, wise Directions.And Princes all, beleeue me, I beseech you:My Father is gone wilde into his Graue,(For in his Tombe, lye my Affections)And with his Spirits, sadly I suruiue,To mocke the expectation of the World;To frustrate Prophesies, and to race outRotten Opinion, who hath writ me downeAfter my seeming. The Tide of Blood in me,Hath prowdly flow'd in Vanity, till now.Now doth it turne, and ebbe backe to the Sea,Where it shall mingle with the state of Floods,And flow henceforth in formall Maiesty.Now call we our High Court of Parliament,And let vs choose such Limbes of Noble Counsaile,That the great Body of our State may goIn equall ranke, with the best gouern'd Nation,That Warre, or Peace, or both at once may beAs things acquainted and familiar to vs,In which you (Father) shall haue formost hand.Our Coronation done, we will accite(As I before remembred) all our State,And heauen (consigning to my good intents)No Prince, nor Peere, shall haue iust cause to say,Heauen shorten Harries happy life, one day.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Falstaffe, Shallow, Silence, Bardolfe, Page, and Pistoll.
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine Orchard: where, in anArbor we will eate a last yeares Pippin of my owne graffing,with a dish of Carrawayes, and so forth. (Come CosinSilence, and then to bed
Fal. You haue heere a goodly dwelling, and a rich
Shal. Barren, barren, barren: Beggers all, beggers allSir Iohn: Marry, good ayre. Spread Dauy, spread Dauie:Well said Dauie
Falst. This Dauie serues you for good vses: he is yourSeruingman, and your Husband
Shal. A good Varlet, a good Varlet, a very good Varlet,Sir Iohn: I haue drunke too much Sacke at Supper. Agood Varlet. Now sit downe, now sit downe: ComeCosin
Sil. Ah sirra (quoth-a) we shall doe nothing but eate, and make good cheere, and praise heauen for the merrie yeere: when flesh is cheape, and Females deere, and lustie Lads rome heere, and there: so merrily, and euer among so merrily
Fal. There's a merry heart, good M[aster]. Silence, Ile giue you a health for that anon
Shal. Good M[aster]. Bardolfe: some wine, Dauie
Da. Sweet sir, sit: Ile be with you anon: most sweete sir, sit. Master Page, good M[aster]. Page, sit: Proface. What you want in meate, wee'l haue in drinke: but you beare, the heart's all
Shal. Be merry M[aster]. Bardolfe, and my little Souldiourthere, be merry
Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife ha's all.For women are Shrewes, both short, and tall:'Tis merry in Hall, when Beards wagge all;And welcome merry Shrouetide. Be merry, be merry
Fal. I did not thinke M[aster]. Silence had bin a man of thisMettle
Sil. Who I? I haue beene merry twice and once, erenow
Dauy. There is a dish of Lether-coats for you
Shal. Dauie
Dau. Your Worship: Ile be with you straight. A cupof Wine, sir?Sil. A Cup of Wine, that's briske and fine, & drinkevnto the Leman mine: and a merry heart liues long-a
Fal. Well said, M[aster]. Silence
Sil. If we shall be merry, now comes in the sweete of the night
Fal. Health, and long life to you, M[aster]. Silence
Sil. Fill the Cuppe, and let it come. Ile pledge you a mile to the bottome
Shal. Honest Bardolfe, welcome: If thou want'st any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome my little tyne theefe, and welcome indeed too: Ile drinke to M[aster]. Bardolfe, and to all the Cauileroes about London
Dau. I hope to see London, once ere I die
Bar. If I might see you there, Dauie
Shal. You'l cracke a quart together? Ha, will you notM[aster]. Bardolfe?Bar. Yes Sir, in a pottle pot
Shal. I thanke thee: the knaue will sticke by thee, Ican assure thee that. He will not out, he is true bred
Bar. And Ile sticke by him, sir
Shal. Why there spoke a King: lack nothing, be merry.Looke, who's at doore there, ho: who knockes?Fal. Why now you haue done me right
Sil. Do me right, and dub me Knight, Samingo. Is'tnot so?Fal. 'Tis so
Sil. Is't so? Why then say an old man can do somwhat
Dau. If it please your Worshippe, there's one Pistollcome from the Court with newes
Fal. From the Court? Let him come in.Enter Pistoll.
How now Pistoll?Pist. Sir Iohn, 'saue you sir
Fal. What winde blew you hither, Pistoll?Pist. Not the ill winde which blowes none to good,sweet Knight: Thou art now one of the greatest men inthe Realme
Sil. Indeed, I thinke he bee, but Goodman Puffe ofBarson
Pist. Puffe? puffe in thy teeth, most recreant Coward base. Sir Iohn, I am thy Pistoll, and thy Friend: helter skelter haue I rode to thee, and tydings do I bring, and luckie ioyes, and golden Times, and happie Newes of price
Fal. I prethee now deliuer them, like a man of thisWorld
Pist. A footra for the World, and Worldlings base,I speake of Affrica, and Golden ioyes
Fal. O base Assyrian Knight, what is thy newes?Let King Couitha know the truth thereof
Sil. And Robin-hood, Scarlet, and Iohn
Pist. Shall dunghill Curres confront the Hellicons?And shall good newes be baffel'd?Then Pistoll lay thy head in Furies lappe
Shal. Honest Gentleman,I know not your breeding
Pist. Why then Lament therefore
Shal. Giue me pardon, Sir. If sir, you come with news from the Court, I take it, there is but two wayes, either to vtter them, or to conceale them. I am Sir, vnder the King, in some Authority
Pist. Vnder which King?Bezonian, speake, or dye
Shal. Vnder King Harry
Pist. Harry the Fourth? or Fift?Shal. Harry the Fourth
Pist. A footra for thine Office.Sir Iohn, thy tender Lamb-kinne, now is King,Harry the Fift's the man, I speake the truth.When Pistoll lyes, do this, and figge-me, likeThe bragging Spaniard
Fal. What, is the old King dead?Pist. As naile in doore.The things I speake, are iust
Fal. Away Bardolfe, Sadle my Horse,Master Robert Shallow, choose what Office thou wiltIn the Land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double charge theeWith Dignities
Bard. O ioyfull day:I would not take a Knighthood for my Fortune
Pist. What? I do bring good newes
Fal. Carrie Master Silence to bed: Master Shallow, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am Fortunes Steward. Get on thy Boots, wee'l ride all night. Oh sweet Pistoll: Away Bardolfe: Come Pistoll, vtter more to mee: and withall deuise something to do thy selfe good. Boote, boote Master Shallow, I know the young King is sick for mee. Let vs take any mans Horsses: The Lawes of England are at my command'ment. Happie are they, which haue beene my Friendes: and woe vnto my Lord Chiefe Iustice
Pist. Let Vultures vil'de seize on his Lungs also:Where is the life that late I led, say they?Why heere it is, welcome those pleasant dayes.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Hostesse Quickly, Dol Teare-sheete, and Beadles.
Hostesse. No, thou arrant knaue: I would I might dy, that I might haue thee hang'd: Thou hast drawne my shoulder out of ioynt
Off. The Constables haue deliuer'd her ouer to mee: and shee shall haue Whipping cheere enough, I warrant her. There hath beene a man or two (lately) kill'd about her
Dol. Nut-hooke, nut-hooke, you Lye: Come on, Ile tell thee what, thou damn'd Tripe-visag'd Rascall, if the Childe I now go with, do miscarrie, thou had'st better thou had'st strooke thy Mother, thou Paper-fac'd Villaine
Host. O that Sir Iohn were come, hee would make this a bloody day to some body. But I would the Fruite of her Wombe might miscarry
Officer. If it do, you shall haue a dozen of Cushions againe, you haue but eleuen now. Come, I charge you both go with me: for the man is dead, that you and Pistoll beate among you
Dol. Ile tell thee what, thou thin man in a Censor; I will haue you as soundly swindg'd for this, you blewBottel'd Rogue: you filthy famish'd Correctioner, if you be not swing'd, Ile forsweare halfe Kirtles
Off. Come, come, you shee-Knight-arrant, come
Host. O, that right should thus o'recome might. Welof sufferance, comes ease
Dol. Come you Rogue, come:Bring me to a Iustice
Host. Yes, come you staru'd Blood-hound
Dol. Goodman death, goodman Bones
Host. Thou Anatomy, thou
Dol. Come you thinne Thing:Come you Rascall
Off. Very well.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter two Groomes.
1.Groo. More Rushes, more Rushes
2.Groo. The Trumpets haue sounded twice
1.Groo. It will be two of the Clocke, ere they come from the Coronation.
Exit Groo.
Enter Falstaffe, Shallow, Pistoll, Bardolfe, and Page.
Falstaffe. Stand heere by me, M[aster]. Robert Shallow, I will make the King do you Grace. I will leere vpon him, as he comes by: and do but marke the countenance that hee will giue me
Pistol. Blesse thy Lungs, good Knight
Falst. Come heere Pistol, stand behind me. O if I had had time to haue made new Liueries, I would haue bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But it is no matter, this poore shew doth better: this doth inferre the zeale I had to see him
Shal. It doth so
Falst. It shewes my earnestnesse in affection
Pist. It doth so
Fal. My deuotion
Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth
Fal. As it were, to ride day and night,And not to deliberate, not to remember,Not to haue patience to shift me
Shal. It is most certaine
Fal. But to stand stained with Trauaile, and sweating with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else, putting all affayres in obliuion, as if there were nothing els to bee done, but to see him
Pist. 'Tis semper idem: for obsque hoc nihil est. 'Tis all in euery part
Shal. 'Tis so indeed
Pist. My Knight, I will enflame thy Noble Liuer, and make thee rage. Thy Dol, and Helen of thy noble thoghts is in base Durance, and contagious prison: Hall'd thither by most Mechanicall and durty hand. Rowze vppe Reuenge from Ebon den, with fell Alecto's Snake, for Dol is in. Pistol, speakes nought but troth
Fal. I will deliuer her
Pistol. There roar'd the Sea: and Trumpet Clangoursounds.
The Trumpets sound. Enter King Henrie the Fift, Brothers, LordChiefeIustice.
Falst. Saue thy Grace, King Hall, my Royall Hall
Pist. The heauens thee guard, and keepe, most royallImpe of Fame
Fal. 'Saue thee my sweet Boy
King. My Lord Chiefe Iustice, speake to that vaineman
Ch.Iust. Haue you your wits?Know you what 'tis you speake?Falst. My King, my Ioue; I speake to thee, my heart
King. I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy Prayers:How ill white haires become a Foole, and Iester?I haue long dream'd of such a kinde of man,So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so prophane:But being awake, I do despise my dreame.Make lesse thy body (hence) and more thy Grace,Leaue gourmandizing; Know the Graue doth gapeFor thee, thrice wider then for other men.Reply not to me, with a Foole-borne Iest,Presume not, that I am the thing I was,For heauen doth know (so shall the world perceiue)That I haue turn'd away my former Selfe,So will I those that kept me Companie.When thou dost heare I am, as I haue bin,Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou was'tThe Tutor and the Feeder of my Riots:Till then, I banish thee, on paine of death,As I haue done the rest of my Misleaders,Not to come neere our Person, by ten mile.For competence of life, I will allow you,That lacke of meanes enforce you not to euill:And as we heare you do reforme your selues,We will according to your strength, and qualities,Giue you aduancement. Be it your charge (my Lord)To see perform'd the tenure of our word. Set on.
Exit King.
Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound
Shal. I marry Sir Iohn, which I beseech you to let me haue home with me
Fal. That can hardly be, M[aster]. Shallow, do not you grieue at this: I shall be sent for in priuate to him: Looke you, he must seeme thus to the world: feare not your aduancement: I will be the man yet, that shall make you great
Shal. I cannot well perceiue how, vnlesse you should giue me your Doublet, and stuffe me out with Straw. I beseech you, good Sir Iohn, let mee haue fiue hundred of my thousand
Fal. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you heard, was but a colour
Shall. A colour I feare, that you will dye in, Sir Iohn
Fal. Feare no colours, go with me to dinner:Come Lieutenant Pistol, come Bardolfe,I shall be sent for soone at night
Ch.Iust. Go carry Sir Iohn Falstaffe to the Fleete,Take all his Company along with him
Fal. My Lord, my Lord
Ch.Iust. I cannot now speake, I will heare you soone:Take them away
Pist. Si fortuna me tormento, spera me contento.
Exit. Manent Lancaster and Chiefe Iustice
Iohn. I like this faire proceeding of the Kings:He hath intent his wonted FollowersShall all be very well prouided for:But all are banisht, till their conuersationsAppeare more wise, and modest to the world
Ch.Iust. And so they are
Iohn. The King hath call'd his Parliament,My Lord
Ch.Iust. He hath
Iohn. I will lay oddes, that ere this yeere expire,We beare our Ciuill Swords, and Natiue fireAs farre as France. I heare a Bird so sing,Whose Musicke (to my thinking) pleas'd the King.Come, will you hence?
Exeunt.
First, my Feare: then, my Curtsie: last, my Speech. My Feare, is your Displeasure: My Curtsie, my Dutie: And my speech, to Begge your Pardons. If you looke for a good speech now, you vndoe me: For what I haue to say, is of mine owne making: and what (indeed) I should say, will (I doubt) prooue mine owne marring. But to the Purpose, and so to the Venture. Be it knowne to you (as it is very well) I was lately heere in the end of a displeasing Play, to pray your Patience for it, and to promise you a Better: I did meane (indeede) to pay you with this which if (like an ill Venture) it come vnluckily home, I breake; and you, my gentle Creditors lose. Heere I promist you I would be, and heere I commit my Bodie to your Mercies: Bate me some, and I will pay you some, and (as most Debtors do) promise you infinitely.
If my Tongue cannot entreate you to acquit me: will you command me to vse my Legges? And yet that were but light payment, to Dance out of your debt: But a good Conscience, will make any possible satisfaction, and so will I. All the Gentlewomen heere haue forgiuen me, if the Gentlemen will not, then the Gentlemen do not agree with the Gentlewomen, which was neuer seene before, in such an Assembly.
One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too much cloid with Fat Meate, our humble Author will continue the Story (with Sir Iohn in it) and make you merry, with faire Katherine of France: where (for any thing I know) Falstaffe shall dye of a sweat, vnlesse already he be kill'd with your hard Opinions: For Old-Castle dyed a Martyr, and this is not the man. My Tongue is wearie, when my Legs are too, I will bid you good night; and so kneele downe before you: But (indeed) to pray for the Queene.