Fal. Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a Rascally-yea-forsooth-knaue, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then stand vpon Security? The horson smooth-pates doe now weare nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at their girdles: and if a man is through with them in honest Taking-vp, then they must stand vpon Securitie: I had as liefe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should haue sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him. Where's Bardolfe? Pag. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse
Fal. I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd. Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant.
Pag. Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe
Fal. Wait close, I will not see him
Ch.Iust. What's he that goes there?Ser. Falstaffe, and't please your Lordship
Iust. He that was in question for the Robbery?Ser. He my Lord, but he hath since done good seruiceat Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with someCharge, to the Lord Iohn of Lancaster
Iust. What to Yorke? Call him backe againe
Ser. Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deafe
Pag. You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe
Iust. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him
Ser. Sir Iohn
Fal. What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is there not imployment? Doth not the K[ing]. lack subiects? Do not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Rebellion can tell how to make it
Ser. You mistake me Sir
Fal. Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting my Knight-hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had lyed in my throat, if I had said so
Ser. I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and your Souldier-ship aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you, you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an honest man
Fal. I giue thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a-side that which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you Hunt-counter, hence: Auant
Ser. Sir, my Lord would speake with you
Iust. Sir Iohn Falstaffe, a word with you
Fal. My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by aduise. Your Lordship (though not clean past your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rellish of the saltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health
Iust. Sir Iohn, I sent you before your Expedition, toShrewsburie
Fal. If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maiestie isreturn'd with some discomfort from Wales
Iust. I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not comewhen I sent for you?Fal. And I heare moreouer, his Highnesse is falne intothis same whorson Apoplexie
Iust. Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with you
Fal. This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling
Iust. What tell you me of it? be it as it is
Fal. It hath it originall from much greefe; from study and perturbation of the braine. I haue read the cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse
Iust. I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you heare not what I say to you
Fal. Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not Marking, that I am troubled withall
Iust. To punish you by the heeles, would amend the attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian Fal. I am as poore as Iob, my Lord; but not so Patient: your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of Pouertie: but how I should bee your Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe
Iust. I sent for you (when there were matters againstyou for your life) to come speake with me
Fal. As I was then aduised by my learned Councel, inthe lawes of this Land-seruice, I did not come
Iust. Wel, the truth is (sir Iohn) you liue in great infamyFal. He that buckles him in my belt, ca[n]not liue in lesse
Iust. Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great
Fal. I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes were greater, and my waste slenderer
Iust. You haue misled the youthfull Prince
Fal. The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fellow with the great belly, and he my Dogge
Iust. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound: your daies seruice at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded ouer your Nights exploit on Gads-hill. You may thanke the vnquiet time, for your quiet o're-posting that Action
Fal. My Lord?Iust. But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping Wolfe
Fal. To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox
Iu. What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt outFal. A Wassell-Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I didsay of wax, my growth would approue the truth
Iust. There is not a white haire on your face, but sholdhaue his effect of grauity
Fal. His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy
Iust. You follow the yong Prince vp and downe, like his euill Angell
Fal. Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I hope, he that lookes vpon mee, will take mee without, weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go: I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costormongers, that true valor is turn'd Beare-heard. Pregnancie is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in giuing Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man (as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capacities of vs that are yong: you measure the heat of our Liuers, with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too
Iust. Do you set downe your name in the scrowle of youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charracters of age? Haue you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheeke? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an incresing belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde short? your wit single? and euery part about you blasted with Antiquity? and wil you cal your selfe yong? Fy, fy, fy, sir Iohn
Fal. My Lord, I was borne with a white head, & somthing a round belly. For my voice, I haue lost it with hallowing and singing of Anthemes. To approue my youth farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudgement and vnderstanding: and he that will caper with mee for a thousand Markes, let him lend me the mony, & haue at him. For the boxe of th' eare that the Prince gaue you, he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensible Lord. I haue checkt him for it, and the yong Lion repents: Marry not in ashes and sacke-cloath, but in new Silke, and old Sacke
Iust. Wel, heauen send the Prince a better companion
Fal. Heauen send the Companion a better Prince: I cannot rid my hands of him
Iust. Well, the King hath seuer'd you and Prince Harry, I heare you are going with Lord Iohn of Lancaster, against the Archbishop, and the Earle of Northumberland Fal. Yes, I thanke your pretty sweet wit for it: but looke you pray, (all you that kisse my Ladie Peace, at home) that our Armies ioyn not in a hot day: for if I take but two shirts out with me, and I meane not to sweat extraordinarily: if it bee a hot day, if I brandish any thing but my Bottle, would I might neuer spit white againe: There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head, but I am thrust vpon it. Well, I cannot last euer
Iust. Well, be honest, be honest, and heauen blesse yourExpedition
Fal. Will your Lordship lend mee a thousand pound,to furnish me forth?Iust. Not a peny, not a peny: you are too impatientto beare crosses. Fare you well. Commend mee to myCosin Westmerland
Fal. If I do, fillop me with a three-man-Beetle. A man can no more separate Age and Couetousnesse, then he can part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the Degrees preuent my curses. Boy? Page. Sir
Fal. What money is in my purse?Page. Seuen groats, and two pence
Fal. I can get no remedy against this Consumption of the purse. Borrowing onely lingers, and lingers it out, but the disease is incureable. Go beare this letter to my Lord of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earle of Westmerland, and this to old Mistris Vrsula, whome I haue weekly sworne to marry, since I perceiu'd the first white haire on my chin. About it: you know where to finde me. A pox of this Gowt, or a Gowt of this Poxe: for the one or th' other playes the rogue with my great toe: It is no matter, if I do halt, I haue the warres for my colour, and my Pension shall seeme the more reasonable. A good wit will make vse of any thing: I will turne diseases to commodity.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Archbishop, Hastings, Mowbray, and Lord Bardolfe.
Ar. Thus haue you heard our causes, & kno our Means:And my most noble Friends, I pray you allSpeake plainly your opinions of our hopes,And first (Lord Marshall) what say you to it?Mow. I well allow the occasion of our Armes,But gladly would be better satisfied,How (in our Meanes) we should aduance our seluesTo looke with forhead bold and big enoughVpon the Power and puisance of the King
Hast. Our present Musters grow vpon the FileTo fiue and twenty thousand men of choice:And our Supplies, liue largely in the hopeOf great Northumberland, whose bosome burnesWith an incensed Fire of Iniuries
L.Bar. The question then (Lord Hastings) standeth thusWhether our present fiue and twenty thousandMay hold-vp-head, without Northumberland:Hast. With him, we may
L.Bar. I marry, there's the point:But if without him we be thought to feeble,My iudgement is, we should not step too farreTill we had his Assistance by the hand.For in a Theame so bloody fac'd, as this,Coniecture, Expectation, and SurmiseOf Aydes incertaine, should not be admitted
Arch. 'Tis very true Lord Bardolfe, for indeedIt was yong Hotspurres case, at Shrewsbury
L.Bar. It was (my Lord) who lin'd himself with hope,Eating the ayre, on promise of Supply,Flatt'ring himselfe with Proiect of a power,Much smaller, then the smallest of his Thoughts,And so with great imagination(Proper to mad men) led his Powers to death,And (winking) leap'd into destruction
Hast. But (by your leaue) it neuer yet did hurt,To lay downe likely-hoods, and formes of hope
L.Bar. Yes, if this present quality of warre,Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot,Liues so in hope: As in an early Spring,We see th' appearing buds, which to proue fruite,Hope giues not so much warrant, as DispaireThat Frosts will bite them. When we meane to build,We first suruey the Plot, then draw the Modell,And when we see the figure of the house,Then must we rate the cost of the Erection,Which if we finde out-weighes Ability,What do we then, but draw a-new the ModellIn fewer offices? Or at least, desistTo builde at all? Much more, in this great worke,(Which is (almost) to plucke a Kingdome downe,And set another vp) should we surueyThe plot of Situation, and the Modell;Consent vpon a sure Foundation:Question Surueyors, know our owne estate,How able such a Worke to vndergo,To weigh against his Opposite? Or else,We fortifie in Paper, and in Figures,Vsing the Names of men, instead of men:Like one, that drawes the Modell of a houseBeyond his power to builde it; who (halfe through)Giues o're, and leaues his part-created CostA naked subiect to the Weeping Clouds,And waste, for churlish Winters tyranny
Hast. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of faire byrth)Should be still-borne: and that we now possestThe vtmost man of expectation:I thinke we are a Body strong enough(Euen as we are) to equall with the King
L.Bar. What is the King but fiue & twenty thousand?Hast. To vs no more: nay not so much Lord Bardolf.For0his diuisions (as the Times do braul)Are in three Heads: one Power against the French,And one against Glendower: Perforce a thirdMust take vp vs: So is the vnfirme KingIn three diuided: and his Coffers soundWith hollow Pouerty, and Emptinesse
Ar. That he should draw his seuerall strengths togitherAnd come against vs in full puissanceNeed not be dreaded
Hast. If he should do so,He leaues his backe vnarm'd, the French, and WelchBaying him at the heeles: neuer feare that
L.Bar. Who is it like should lead his Forces hither?Hast. The Duke of Lancaster, and Westmerland:Against the Welsh himselfe, and Harrie Monmouth.But who is substituted 'gainst the French,I haue no certaine notice
Arch. Let vs on:And publish the occasion of our Armes.The Common-wealth is sicke of their owne Choice,Their ouer-greedy loue hath surfetted:An habitation giddy, and vnsureHath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.O thou fond Many, with what loud applauseDid'st thou beate heauen with blessing Bullingbrooke,Before he was, what thou would'st haue him be?And being now trimm'd in thine owne desires,Thou (beastly Feeder) art so full of him,That thou prouok'st thy selfe to cast him vp.So, so, (thou common Dogge) did'st thou disgorgeThy glutton-bosome of the Royall Richard,And now thou would'st eate thy dead vomit vp,And howl'st to finde it. What trust is in these Times?They, that when Richard liu'd, would haue him dye,Are now become enamour'd on his graue.Thou that threw'st dust vpon his goodly headWhen through proud London he came sighing on,After th' admired heeles of Bullingbrooke,Cri'st now, O Earth, yeeld vs that King againe,And take thou this (O thoughts of men accurs'd)``Past, and to Come, seemes best; things Present, worst
Mow. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?Hast. We are Times subiects, and Time bids, be gon.
Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Hostesse, with two Officers, Fang, and Snare.
Hostesse. Mr. Fang, haue you entred the Action?Fang. It is enter'd
Hostesse. Wher's your Yeoman? Is it a lusty yeoman?Will he stand to it?Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare?Hostesse. I, I, good M[aster]. Snare
Snare. Heere, heere
Fang. Snare, we must Arrest Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Host. I good M[aster]. Snare, I haue enter'd him, and all
Sn. It may chance cost some of vs our liues: he wil stab Hostesse. Alas the day: take heed of him: he stabd me in mine owne house, and that most beastly: he cares not what mischeefe he doth, if his weapon be out. Hee will foyne like any diuell, he will spare neither man, woman, nor childe
Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust
Hostesse. No, nor I neither: Ile be at your elbow
Fang. If I but fist him once: if he come but within myVice
Host. I am vndone with his going: I warrant he is an infinitiue thing vpon my score. Good M[aster]. Fang hold him sure: good M[aster]. Snare let him not scape, he comes continuantly to Py-Corner (sauing your manhoods) to buy a saddle, and hee is indited to dinner to the Lubbars head in Lombardstreet, to M[aster]. Smoothes the Silkman. I pra' ye, since my Exion is enter'd, and my Case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer: A 100. Marke is a long one, for a poore lone woman to beare: & I haue borne, and borne, and borne, and haue bin fub'd off, and fub'd-off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing, vnles a woman should be made an Asse and a Beast, to beare euery Knaues wrong.
Enter Falstaffe and Bardolfe.
Yonder he comes, and that arrant Malmesey-Nose Bardolfewith him. Do your Offices, do your offices: M[aster]. Fang, &M[aster].Snare, do me, do me, do me your Offices
Fal. How now? whose Mare's dead? what's the matter?Fang. Sir Iohn, I arrest you, at the suit of Mist. Quickly
Falst. Away Varlets, draw Bardolfe: Cut me off theVillaines head: throw the Queane in the Channel
Host. Throw me in the channell? Ile throw thee there. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue. Murder, murder, O thou Hony-suckle villaine, wilt thou kill Gods officers, and the Kings? O thou hony-seed Rogue, thou art a honyseed, a Man-queller, and a woman-queller
Falst. Keep them off, Bardolfe
Fang. A rescu, a rescu
Host. Good people bring a rescu. Thou wilt not? thouwilt not? Do, do thou Rogue: Do thou Hempseed
Page. Away you Scullion, you Rampallian, you Fustillirian:Ile tucke your Catastrophe.Enter Ch. Iustice.
Iust. What's the matter? Keepe the Peace here, hoa
Host. Good my Lord be good to mee. I beseech youstand to me
Ch.Iust. How now sir Iohn? What are you brauling here?Doth this become your place, your time, and businesse?You should haue bene well on your way to Yorke.Stand from him Fellow; wherefore hang'st vpon him?Host. Oh my most worshipfull Lord, and't please yourGrace, I am a poore widdow of Eastcheap, and he is arrestedat my suit
Ch.Iust. For what summe? Host. It is more then for some (my Lord) it is for all: all I haue, he hath eaten me out of house and home; hee hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his: but I will haue some of it out againe, or I will ride thee o' Nights, like the Mare
Falst. I thinke I am as like to ride the Mare, if I haue any vantage of ground, to get vp
Ch.Iust. How comes this, Sir Iohn? Fy, what a man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not asham'd to inforce a poore Widdowe to so rough a course, to come by her owne? Falst. What is the grosse summe that I owe thee? Host. Marry (if thou wer't an honest man) thy selfe, & the mony too. Thou didst sweare to mee vpon a parcell gilt Goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber at the round table, by a sea-cole fire, on Wednesday in Whitson week, when the Prince broke thy head for lik'ning him to a singing man of Windsor; Thou didst sweare to me then (as I was washing thy wound) to marry me, and make mee my Lady thy wife. Canst y deny it? Did not goodwife Keech the Butchers wife come in then, and cal me gossip Quickly? comming in to borrow a messe of Vinegar: telling vs, she had a good dish of Prawnes: whereby y didst desire to eat some: whereby I told thee they were ill for a greene wound? And didst not thou (when she was gone downe staires) desire me to be no more familiar with such poore people, saying, that ere long they should call me Madam? And did'st y not kisse me, and bid mee fetch thee 30.s? I put thee now to thy Book-oath, deny it if thou canst? Fal. My Lord, this is a poore mad soule: and she sayes vp & downe the town, that her eldest son is like you. She hath bin in good case, & the truth is, pouerty hath distracted her: but for these foolish Officers, I beseech you, I may haue redresse against them
Iust. Sir Iohn, sir Iohn, I am well acquainted with your maner of wrenching the true cause, the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of wordes, that come with such (more then impudent) sawcines from you, can thrust me from a leuell consideration, I know you ha' practis'd vpon the easie-yeelding spirit of this woman
Host. Yes in troth my Lord
Iust. Prethee peace: pay her the debt you owe her, and vnpay the villany you haue done her: the one you may do with sterling mony, & the other with currant repentance
Fal. My Lord, I will not vndergo this sneape without reply. You call honorable Boldnes, impudent Sawcinesse: If a man wil curt'sie, and say nothing, he is vertuous: No, my Lord (your humble duty reme[m]bred) I will not be your sutor. I say to you, I desire deliu'rance from these Officers being vpon hasty employment in the Kings Affaires
Iust. You speake, as hauing power to do wrong: But answer in the effect of your Reputation, and satisfie the poore woman
Falst. Come hither Hostesse.Enter M[aster]. Gower]Ch.Iust. Now Master Gower; What newes?Gow. The King (my Lord) and Henrie Prince of WalesAre neere at hand: The rest the Paper telles
Falst. As I am a Gentleman
Host. Nay, you said so before
Fal. As I am a Gentleman. Come, no more words of itHost. By this Heauenly ground I tread on, I must befaine to pawne both my Plate, and the Tapistry of my dyningChambers
Fal. Glasses, glasses, is the onely drinking: and for thy walles a pretty slight Drollery, or the Storie of the Prodigall, or the Germane hunting in Waterworke, is worth a thousand of these Bed-hangings, and these Flybitten Tapistries. Let it be tenne pound (if thou canst.) Come, if it were not for thy humors, there is not a better Wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy Action: Come, thou must not bee in this humour with me, come, I know thou was't set on to this
Host. Prethee (Sir Iohn) let it be but twenty Nobles,I loath to pawne my Plate, in good earnest la
Fal. Let it alone, Ile make other shift: you'l be a foolstill
Host. Well, you shall haue it although I pawne myGowne. I hope you'l come to Supper: You'l pay me altogether?Fal. Will I liue? Go with her, with her: hooke-on,hooke-on
Host. Will you haue Doll Teare-sheet meet you at supper?Fal. No more words. Let's haue her
Ch.Iust. I haue heard bitter newes
Fal. What's the newes (my good Lord?)Ch.Iu. Where lay the King last night?Mes. At Basingstoke my Lord
Fal. I hope (my Lord) all's well. What is the newesmy Lord?Ch.Iust. Come all his Forces backe?Mes. No: Fifteene hundred Foot, fiue hundred HorseAre march'd vp to my Lord of Lancaster,Against Northumberland, and the Archbishop
Fal. Comes the King backe from Wales, my noble L[ord]?Ch.Iust. You shall haue Letters of me presently.Come, go along with me, good M[aster]. Gowre
Fal. My Lord
Ch.Iust. What's the matter?Fal. Master Gowre, shall I entreate you with mee todinner?Gow. I must waite vpon my good Lord heere.I thanke you, good Sir Iohn
Ch.Iust. Sir Iohn, you loyter heere too long being youare to take Souldiers vp, in Countries as you go
Fal. Will you sup with me, Master Gowre?Ch.Iust. What foolish Master taught you these manners,Sir Iohn?Fal. Master Gower, if they become mee not, hee was aFoole that taught them mee. This is the right Fencinggrace (my Lord) tap for tap, and so part faire
Ch.Iust. Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a greatFoole.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Prince Henry, Pointz, Bardolfe, and Page.
Prin. Trust me, I am exceeding weary
Poin. Is it come to that? I had thought wearines durst not haue attach'd one of so high blood
Prin. It doth me: though it discolours the complexion of my Greatnesse to acknowledge it. Doth it not shew vildely in me, to desire small Beere? Poin. Why, a Prince should not be so loosely studied, as to remember so weake a Composition
Prince. Belike then, my Appetite was not Princely got: for (in troth) I do now remember the poore Creature, Small Beere. But indeede these humble considerations make me out of loue with my Greatnesse. What a disgrace is it to me, to remember thy name? Or to know thy face to morrow? Or to take note how many paire of Silk stockings y hast? (Viz. these, and those that were thy peach-colour'd ones:) Or to beare the Inuentorie of thy shirts, as one for superfluity, and one other, for vse. But that the Tennis-Court-keeper knowes better then I, for it is a low ebbe of Linnen with thee, when thou kept'st not Racket there, as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy Low Countries, haue made a shift to eate vp thy Holland
Poin. How ill it followes, after you haue labour'd sohard, you should talke so idlely? Tell me how many goodyong Princes would do so, their Fathers lying so sicke, asyours is?Prin. Shall I tell thee one thing, Pointz?Poin. Yes: and let it be an excellent good thing
Prin. It shall serue among wittes of no higher breedingthen thine
Poin. Go to: I stand the push of your one thing, thatyou'l tell
Prin. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet, that I should be sad now my Father is sicke: albeit I could tell to thee (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend) I could be sad, and sad indeed too
Poin. Very hardly, vpon such a subiect
Prin. Thou think'st me as farre in the Diuels Booke, as thou, and Falstaffe, for obduracie and persistencie. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my hart bleeds inwardly, that my Father is so sicke: and keeping such vild company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me, all ostentation of sorrow
Poin. The reason?Prin. What would'st thou think of me, if I shold weep?Poin. I would thinke thee a most Princely hypocrite
Prin. It would be euery mans thought: and thou art a blessed Fellow, to thinke as euery man thinkes: neuer a mans thought in the world, keepes the Rode-way better then thine: euery man would thinke me an Hypocrite indeede. And what accites your most worshipful thought to thinke so? Poin. Why, because you haue beene so lewde, and so much ingraffed to Falstaffe
Prin. And to thee
Pointz. Nay, I am well spoken of, I can heare it with mine owne eares: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second Brother, and that I am a proper Fellowe of my hands: and those two things I confesse I canot helpe. Looke, looke, here comes Bardolfe
Prince. And the Boy that I gaue Falstaffe, he had himfrom me Christian, and see if the fat villain haue not transform'dhim Ape.Enter Bardolfe.
Bar. Saue your Grace
Prin. And yours, most Noble Bardolfe
Poin. Come you pernitious Asse, you bashfull Foole, must you be blushing? Wherefore blush you now? what a Maidenly man at Armes are you become? Is it such a matter to get a Pottle-pots Maiden-head? Page. He call'd me euen now (my Lord) through a red Lattice, and I could discerne no part of his face from the window: at last I spy'd his eyes, and me thought he had made two holes in the Ale-wiues new Petticoat, & peeped through
Prin. Hath not the boy profited?Bar. Away, you horson vpright Rabbet, away
Page. Away, you rascally Altheas dreame, away
Prin. Instruct vs Boy: what dreame, Boy?Page. Marry (my Lord) Althea dream'd, she was deliuer'dof a Firebrand, and therefore I call him hir dream
Prince. A Crownes-worth of good Interpretation:There it is, Boy
Poin. O that this good Blossome could bee kept fromCankers: Well, there is six pence to preserue thee
Bard. If you do not make him be hang'd among you,the gallowes shall be wrong'd
Prince. And how doth thy Master, Bardolph?Bar. Well, my good Lord: he heard of your Gracescomming to Towne. There's a Letter for you
Poin. Deliuer'd with good respect: And how doth theMartlemas, your Master?Bard. In bodily health Sir
Poin. Marry, the immortall part needes a Physitian: but that moues not him: though that bee sicke, it dyes not
Prince. I do allow this Wen to bee as familiar with me, as my dogge: and he holds his place, for looke you he writes
Poin.
Letter.
Iohn Falstaffe Knight: (Euery man must know that, as oft as hee hath occasion to name himselfe:) Euen like those that are kinne to the King, for they neuer pricke their finger, but they say, there is som of the kings blood spilt. How comes that (sayes he) that takes vpon him not to conceiue? the answer is as ready as a borrowed cap: I am the Kings poore Cosin, Sir
Prince. Nay, they will be kin to vs, but they wil fetchit from Iaphet. But to the Letter: - Sir Iohn Falstaffe,Knight, to the Sonne of the King, neerest his Father, HarriePrince of Wales, greeting
Poin. Why this is a Certificate
Prin. Peace.I will imitate the honourable Romaines in breuitie
Poin. Sure he meanes breuity in breath: short-winded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leaue thee. Bee not too familiar with Pointz, for hee misuses thy Fauours so much, that he sweares thou art to marrie his Sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell. Thine, by yea and no: which is as much as to say, as thou vsest him. Iacke Falstaffe with my Familiars: Iohn with my Brothers and Sister: & Sir Iohn, with all Europe. My Lord, I will steepe this Letter in Sack, and make him eate it
Prin. That's to make him eate twenty of his Words.But do you vse me thus Ned? Must I marry your Sister?Poin. May the Wench haue no worse Fortune. But Ineuer said so
Prin. Well, thus we play the Fooles with the time, &the spirits of the wise, sit in the clouds, and mocke vs: Isyour Master heere in London?Bard. Yes my Lord
Prin. Where suppes he? Doth the old Bore, feede inthe old Franke?Bard. At the old place my Lord, in East-cheape
Prin. What Company?Page. Ephesians my Lord, of the old Church
Prin. Sup any women with him?Page. None my Lord, but old Mistris Quickly, and M[istris].Doll Teare-sheet
Prin. What Pagan may that be?Page. A proper Gentlewoman, Sir, and a Kinswomanof my Masters
Prin. Euen such Kin, as the Parish Heyfors are to theTowne-Bull?Shall we steale vpon them (Ned) at Supper?Poin. I am your shadow, my Lord, Ile follow you
Prin. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to yourMaster that I am yet in Towne.There's for your silence
Bar. I haue no tongue, sir
Page. And for mine Sir, I will gouerne it
Prin. Fare ye well: go.This Doll Teare-sheet should be some Rode
Poin. I warrant you, as common as the way betweeneS[aint]. Albans, and London
Prin. How might we see Falstaffe bestow himselfe tonight, in his true colours, and not our selues be seene?Poin. Put on two Leather Ierkins, and Aprons, andwaite vpon him at his Table, like Drawers
Prin. From a God, to a Bull? A heauie declension: It was Ioues case. From a Prince, to a Prentice, a low transformation, that shall be mine: for in euery thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me Ned.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Northumberland, his Ladie, and Harrie Percies Ladie.
North. I prethee louing Wife, and gentle Daughter,Giue an euen way vnto my rough Affaires:Put not you on the visage of the Times,And be like them to Percie, troublesome
Wife. I haue giuen ouer, I will speak no more,Do what you will: your Wisedome, be your guide
North. Alas (sweet Wife) my Honor is at pawne,And but my going, nothing can redeeme it
La. Oh yet, for heauens sake, go not to these Warrs;The Time was (Father) when you broke your word,When you were more endeer'd to it, then now,When your owne Percy, when my heart-deereHarry,Threw many a Northward looke, to see his FatherBring vp his Powres: but he did long in vaine.Who then perswaded you to stay at home?There were two Honors lost; Yours, and your Sonnes.For Yours, may heauenly glory brighten it:For His, it stucke vpon him, as the SunneIn the gray vault of Heauen: and by his LightDid all the Cheualrie of England moueTo do braue Acts. He was (indeed) the GlasseWherein the Noble-Youth did dresse themselues.He had no Legges, that practic'd not his Gate:And speaking thicke (which Nature made his blemish)Became the Accents of the Valiant.For those that could speake low, and tardily,Would turne their owne Perfection, to Abuse,To seeme like him. So that in Speech, in Gate,In Diet, in Affections of delight,In Militarie Rules, Humors of Blood,He was the Marke, and Glasse, Coppy, and Booke,That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous! him,O Miracle of Men! Him did you leaue(Second to none) vn-seconded by you,To looke vpon the hideous God of Warre,In dis-aduantage, to abide a field,Where nothing but the sound of Hotspurs NameDid seeme defensible: so you left him.Neuer, O neuer doe his Ghost the wrong,To hold your Honor more precise and niceWith others, then with him. Let them alone:The Marshall and the Arch-bishop are strong.Had my sweet Harry had but halfe their Numbers,To day might I (hanging on Hotspurs Necke)Haue talk'd of Monmouth's Graue
North. Beshrew your heart,(Faire Daughter) you doe draw my Spirits from me,With new lamenting ancient Ouer-sights.But I must goe, and meet with Danger there,Or it will seeke me in another place,And finde me worse prouided
Wife. O flye to Scotland,Till that the Nobles, and the armed Commons,Haue of their Puissance made a little taste
Lady. If they get ground, and vantage of the King,Then ioyne you with them, like a Ribbe of Steele,To make Strength stronger. But, for all our loues,First let them trye themselues. So did your Sonne,He was so suffer'd; so came I a Widow:And neuer shall haue length of Life enough,To raine vpon Remembrance with mine Eyes,That it may grow, and sprowt, as high as Heauen,For Recordation to my Noble Husband
North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with my MindeAs with the Tyde, swell'd vp vnto his height,That makes a still-stand, running neyther way.Faine would I goe to meet the Arch-bishop,But many thousand Reasons hold me backe.I will resolue for Scotland: there am I,Till Time and Vantage craue my company.
Exeunt.
Scaena Quarta.
Enter two Drawers.
1.Drawer. What hast thou brought there? Apple-Iohns? Thou know'st Sir Iohn cannot endure an Apple-Iohn
2.Draw. Thou say'st true: the Prince once set a Dish of Apple-Iohns before him, and told him there were fiue more Sir Iohns: and, putting off his Hat, said, I will now take my leaue of these sixe drie, round, old-wither'd Knights. It anger'd him to the heart: but hee hath forgot that
1.Draw. Why then couer, and set them downe: and see if thou canst finde out Sneakes Noyse; Mistris Teare-sheet would faine haue some Musique
2.Draw. Sirrha, heere will be the Prince, and Master Points, anon: and they will put on two of our Ierkins, and Aprons, and Sir Iohn must not know of it: Bardolph hath brought word
1.Draw. Then here will be old Vtis: it will be an excellentstratagem
2.Draw. Ile see if I can finde out Sneake.Enter.
Enter Hostesse, and Dol.
Host. Sweet-heart, me thinkes now you are in an excellent good temperalitie: your Pulsidge beates as extraordinarily, as heart would desire; and your Colour (I warrant you) is as red as any Rose: But you haue drunke too much Canaries, and that's a maruellous searching Wine; and it perfumes the blood, ere wee can say what's this. How doe you now? Dol. Better then I was: Hem
Host. Why that was well said: A good heart's worthGold. Looke, here comes Sir Iohn.Enter Falstaffe.
Falst. When Arthur first in Court - (emptie the Iordan)and was a worthy King: How now Mistris Dol?Host. Sick of a Calme: yea, good-sooth
Falst. So is all her Sect: if they be once in a Calme,they are sick
Dol. You muddie Rascall, is that all the comfort yougiue me?Falst. You make fat Rascalls, Mistris Dol
Dol. I make them? Gluttonie and Diseases makethem, I make them not
Falst. If the Cooke make the Gluttonie, you helpe to make the Diseases (Dol) we catch of you (Dol) we catch of you: Grant that, my poore Vertue, grant that
Dol. I marry, our Chaynes, and our Iewels
Falst. Your Brooches, Pearles, and Owches: For to serue brauely, is to come halting off: you know, to come off the Breach, with his Pike bent brauely, and to Surgerie brauely; to venture vpon the charg'd-Chambers brauely
Host. Why this is the olde fashion: you two neuer meete, but you fall to some discord: you are both (in good troth) as Rheumatike as two drie Tostes, you cannot one beare with anothers Confirmities. What the good-yere? One must beare, and that must bee you: you are the weaker Vessell; as they say, the emptier Vessell
Dol. Can a weake emptie Vessell beare such a huge full Hogs-head? There's a whole Marchants Venture of Burdeux-Stuffe in him: you haue not seene a Hulke better stufft in the Hold. Come, Ile be friends with thee Iacke: Thou art going to the Warres, and whether I shall euer see thee againe, or no, there is no body cares. Enter Drawer.
Drawer. Sir, Ancient Pistoll is below, and wouldspeake with you
Dol. Hang him, swaggering Rascall, let him notcome hither: it is the foule-mouth'dst Rogue in England
Host. If hee swagger, let him not come here: I must liue amongst my Neighbors, Ile no Swaggerers: I am in good name, and fame, with the very best: shut the doore, there comes no Swaggerers heere: I haue not liu'd all this while, to haue swaggering now: shut the doore, I pray you
Falst. Do'st thou heare, Hostesse?Host. 'Pray you pacifie your selfe (Sir Iohn) there comesno Swaggerers heere
Falst. Do'st thou heare? it is mine Ancient
Host. Tilly-fally (Sir Iohn) neuer tell me, your ancient Swaggerer comes not in my doores. I was before Master Tisick the Deputie, the other day: and as hee said to me, it was no longer agoe then Wednesday last: Neighbour Quickly (sayes hee;) Master Dombe, our Minister, was by then: Neighbour Quickly (sayes hee) receiue those that are Ciuill; for (sayth hee) you are in an ill Name: now hee said so, I can tell whereupon: for (sayes hee) you are an honest Woman, and well thought on; therefore take heede what Guests you receiue: Receiue (sayes hee) no swaggering Companions. There comes none heere. You would blesse you to heare what hee said. No, Ile no Swaggerers
Falst. Hee's no Swaggerer (Hostesse:) a tame Cheater, hee: you may stroake him as gently, as a Puppie Greyhound: hee will not swagger with a Barbarie Henne, if her feathers turne backe in any shew of resistance. Call him vp (Drawer.) Host. Cheater, call you him? I will barre no honest man my house, nor no Cheater: but I doe not loue swaggering; I am the worse when one sayes, swagger: Feele Masters, how I shake: looke you, I warrant you
Dol. So you doe, Hostesse
Host. Doe I? yea, in very truth doe I, if it were an AspenLeafe: I cannot abide Swaggerers.Enter Pistol, and Bardolph and his Boy.
Pist. 'Saue you, Sir Iohn
Falst. Welcome Ancient Pistol. Here (Pistol) I charge you with a Cup of Sacke: doe you discharge vpon mine Hostesse
Pist. I will discharge vpon her (Sir Iohn) with twoBullets
Falst. She is Pistoll-proofe (Sir) you shall hardly offendher
Host. Come, Ile drinke no Proofes, nor no Bullets: I will drinke no more then will doe me good, for no mans pleasure, I
Pist. Then to you (Mistris Dorothie) I will charge you
Dol. Charge me? I scorne you (scuruie Companion) what? you poore, base, rascally, cheating, lacke-Linnen-Mate: away you mouldie Rogue, away; I am meat for your Master
Pist. I know you, Mistris Dorothie
Dol. Away you Cut-purse Rascall, you filthy Bung, away: By this Wine, Ile thrust my Knife in your mouldie Chappes, if you play the sawcie Cuttle with me. Away you Bottle-Ale Rascall, you Basket-hilt stale Iugler, you. Since when, I pray you, Sir? what, with two Points on your shoulder? much
Pist. I will murther your Ruffe, for this
Host. No, good Captaine Pistol: not heere, sweeteCaptaine
Dol. Captaine? thou abhominable damn'd Cheater, art thou not asham'd to be call'd Captaine? If Captaines were of my minde, they would trunchion you out, for taking their Names vpon you, before you haue earn'd them. You a Captaine? you slaue, for what? for tearing a poore Whores Ruffe in a Bawdy-house? Hee a Captaine? hang him Rogue, hee liues vpon mouldie stew'd-Pruines, and dry'de Cakes. A Captaine? These Villaines will make the word Captaine odious: Therefore Captaines had neede looke to it
Bard. 'Pray thee goe downe, good Ancient
Falst. Hearke thee hither, Mistris Dol
Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporall Bardolph, I could teare her: Ile be reueng'd on her
Page. 'Pray thee goe downe
Pist. Ile see her damn'd first: to Pluto's damn'd Lake, to the Infernall Deepe, where Erebus and Tortures vilde also. Hold Hooke and Line, say I: Downe: downe Dogges, downe Fates: haue wee not Hiren here? Host. Good Captaine Peesel be quiet, it is very late: I beseeke you now, aggrauate your Choler
Pist. These be good Humors indeede. Shall PackHorses, and hollow-pamper'd Iades of Asia, which cannot goe but thirtie miles a day, compare with Cęsar, and with Caniballs, and Troian Greekes? nay, rather damne them with King Cerberus, and let the Welkin roare: shall wee fall foule for Toyes? Host. By my troth Captaine, these are very bitter words
Bard. Be gone, good Ancient: this will grow to aBrawle anon
Pist. Die men, like Dogges; giue Crownes like Pinnes:Haue we not Hiren here?Host. On my word (Captaine) there's none such here.What the good-yere, doe you thinke I would denye her?I pray be quiet
Pist. Then feed, and be fat (my faire Calipolis.) Come,giue me some Sack, Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contente.Feare wee broad-sides? No, let the Fiend giue fire:Giue me some Sack: and Sweet-heart lye thou there:Come wee to full Points here, and are et cetera's nothing?Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet
Pist. Sweet Knight, I kisse thy Neaffe: what? wee haueseene the seuen Starres
Dol. Thrust him downe stayres, I cannot endure sucha Fustian Rascall
Pist. Thrust him downe stayres? know we not Galloway Nagges? Fal. Quoit him downe (Bardolph) like a shoue-groat shilling: nay, if hee doe nothing but speake nothing, hee shall be nothing here
Bard. Come, get you downe stayres
Pist. What? shall wee haue Incision? shall wee embrew? then Death rocke me asleepe, abridge my dolefull dayes: why then let grieuous, gastly, gaping Wounds, vntwin'd the Sisters three: Come Atropos, I say
Host. Here's good stuffe toward
Fal. Giue me my Rapier, Boy
Dol. I prethee Iack, I prethee doe not draw
Fal. Get you downe stayres
Host. Here's a goodly tumult: Ile forsweare keeping house, before Ile be in these tirrits, and frights. So: Murther I warrant now. Alas, alas, put vp your naked Weapons, put vp your naked Weapons
Dol. I prethee Iack be quiet, the Rascall is gone: ah,you whorson little valiant Villaine, you
Host. Are you not hurt i'th' Groyne? me thought heemade a shrewd Thrust at your Belly
Fal. Haue you turn'd him out of doores?Bard. Yes Sir: the Rascall's drunke: you haue hurthim (Sir) in the shoulder
Fal. A Rascall to braue me
Dol. Ah, you sweet little Rogue, you: alas, poore Ape, how thou sweat'st? Come, let me wipe thy Face: Come on, you whorson Chops: Ah Rogue, I loue thee: Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth fiue of Agamemnon, and tenne times better then the nine Worthies: ah Villaine
Fal. A rascally Slaue, I will tosse the Rogue in a Blanket
Dol. Doe, if thou dar'st for thy heart: if thou doo'st,Ile canuas thee betweene a paire of Sheetes.Enter Musique.
Page. The Musique is come, Sir
Fal. Let them play: play Sirs. Sit on my Knee, Dol.A Rascall, bragging Slaue: the Rogue fled from me likeQuick-siluer
Dol. And thou followd'st him like a Church: thou whorson little tydie Bartholmew Bore-pigge, when wilt thou leaue fighting on dayes, and foyning on nights, and begin to patch vp thine old Body for Heauen? Enter the Prince and Poines disguis'd.
Fal. Peace (good Dol) doe not speake like a Deathshead:doe not bid me remember mine end
Dol. Sirrha, what humor is the Prince of?Fal. A good shallow young fellow: hee would hauemade a good Pantler, hee would haue chipp'd Breadwell
Dol. They say Poines hath a good Wit
Fal. Hee a good Wit? hang him Baboone, his Wit is as thicke as Tewksburie Mustard: there is no more conceit in him, then is in a Mallet
Dol. Why doth the Prince loue him so then? Fal. Because their Legges are both of a bignesse: and hee playes at Quoits well, and eates Conger and Fennell, and drinkes off Candles ends for Flap-dragons, and rides the wilde-Mare with the Boyes, and iumpes vpon Ioyn'dstooles, and sweares with a good grace, and weares his Boot very smooth, like vnto the Signe of the Legge; and breedes no bate with telling of discreete stories: and such other Gamboll Faculties hee hath, that shew a weake Minde, and an able Body, for the which the Prince admits him; for the Prince himselfe is such another: the weight of an hayre will turne the Scales betweene their Haberdepois
Prince. Would not this Naue of a Wheele haue hisEares cut off?Poin. Let vs beat him before his Whore
Prince. Looke, if the wither'd Elder hath not his Pollclaw'd like a Parrot
Poin. Is it not strange, that Desire should so manyyeeres out-liue performance?Fal. Kisse me Dol
Prince. Saturne and Venus this yeere in Coniunction?What sayes the Almanack to that?Poin. And looke whether the fierie Trigon, his Man,be not lisping to his Masters old Tables, his Note-Booke,his Councell-keeper?Fal. Thou do'st giue me flatt'ring Busses
Dol. Nay truely, I kisse thee with a most constantheart
Fal. I am olde, I am olde
Dol. I loue thee better, then I loue ere a scuruie youngBoy of them all
Fal. What Stuffe wilt thou haue a Kirtle of? I shall receiue Money on Thursday: thou shalt haue a Cappe to morrow. A merrie Song, come: it growes late, wee will to Bed. Thou wilt forget me, when I am gone
Dol. Thou wilt set me a weeping, if thou say'st so: proue that euer I dresse my selfe handsome, till thy returne: well, hearken the end
Fal. Some Sack, Francis
Prin. Poin. Anon, anon, Sir
Fal. Ha? a Bastard Sonne of the Kings? And art notthou Poines, his Brother?Prince. Why thou Globe of sinfull Continents, whata life do'st thou lead?Fal. A better then thou: I am a Gentleman, thou arta Drawer
Prince. Very true, Sir: and I come to draw you outby the Eares
Host. Oh, the Lord preserue thy good Grace: Welcome to London. Now Heauen blesse that sweete Face of thine: what, are you come from Wales? Fal. Thou whorson mad Compound of Maiestie: by this light Flesh, and corrupt Blood, thou art welcome
Dol. How? you fat Foole, I scorne you
Poin. My Lord, hee will driue you out of your reuenge, and turne all to a merryment, if you take not the heat
Prince. You whorson Candle-myne you, how vildly did you speake of me euen now, before this honest, vertuous, ciuill Gentlewoman? Host. 'Blessing on your good heart, and so shee is by my troth
Fal. Didst thou heare me?Prince. Yes: and you knew me, as you did when youranne away by Gads-hill: you knew I was at your back,and spoke it on purpose, to trie my patience
Fal. No, no, no: not so: I did not thinke, thou wastwithin hearing
Prince. I shall driue you then to confesse the wilfullabuse, and then I know how to handle you
Fal. No abuse (Hall) on mine Honor, no abuse
Prince. Not to disprayse me? and call me Pantler, and Bread-chopper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse (Hal.) Poin. No abuse? Fal. No abuse (Ned) in the World: honest Ned none. I disprays'd him before the Wicked, that the Wicked might not fall in loue with him: In which doing, I haue done the part of a carefull Friend, and a true Subiect, and thy Father is to giue me thankes for it. No abuse (Hal:) none (Ned) none; no Boyes, none
Prince. See now whether pure Feare, and entire Cowardise, doth not make thee wrong this vertuous Gentlewoman, to close with vs? Is shee of the Wicked? Is thine Hostesse heere, of the Wicked? Or is the Boy of the Wicked? Or honest Bardolph (whose Zeale burnes in his Nose) of the Wicked? Poin. Answere thou dead Elme, answere
Fal. The Fiend hath prickt downe Bardolph irrecouerable, and his Face is Lucifers Priuy-Kitchin, where hee doth nothing but rost Mault-Wormes: for the Boy, there is a good Angell about him, but the Deuill outbids him too
Prince. For the Women? Fal. For one of them, shee is in Hell alreadie, and burnes poore Soules: for the other, I owe her Money; and whether shee bee damn'd for that, I know not
Host. No, I warrant you
Fal. No, I thinke thou art not: I thinke thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another Indictment vpon thee, for suffering flesh to bee eaten in thy house, contrary to the Law, for the which I thinke thou wilt howle
Host. All Victuallers doe so: What is a Ioynt ofMutton, or two, in a whole Lent?Prince. You, Gentlewoman
Dol. What sayes your Grace?Falst. His Grace sayes that, which his flesh rebellsagainst
Host. Who knocks so lowd at doore? Looke to the doore there, Francis? Enter Peto.
Prince. Peto, how now? what newes?Peto. The King, your Father, is at Westminster,And there are twentie weake and wearied Postes,Come from the North: and as I came along,I met, and ouer-tooke a dozen Captaines,Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the Tauernes,And asking euery one for Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Prince. By Heauen (Poines) I feele me much to blame,So idly to prophane the precious time,When Tempest of Commotion, like the South,Borne with black Vapour, doth begin to melt,And drop vpon our bare vnarmed heads.Giue me my Sword, and Cloake:Falstaffe, good night.Enter.
Falst. Now comes in the sweetest Morsell of the night, and wee must hence, and leaue it vnpickt. More knocking at the doore? How now? what's the matter? Bard. You must away to Court, Sir, presently, A dozen Captaines stay at doore for you
Falst. Pay the Musitians, Sirrha: farewell Hostesse, farewell Dol. You see (my good Wenches) how men of Merit are sought after: the vndeseruer may sleepe, when the man of Action is call'd on. Farewell good Wenches: if I be not sent away poste, I will see you againe, ere I goe
Dol. I cannot speake: if my heart bee not readie to burst- Well (sweete Iacke) haue a care of thy selfe
Falst. Farewell, farewell.Enter.
Host. Well, fare thee well: I haue knowne thee these twentie nine yeeres, come Pescod-time: but an honester, and truer-hearted man- Well, fare thee well
Bard. Mistris Teare-sheet
Host. What's the matter?Bard. Bid Mistris Teare-sheet come to my Master
Host. Oh runne Dol, runne: runne, good Dol.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
Enter the King, with a Page.
King. Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick:But ere they come, bid them ore-reade these Letters,And well consider of them: make good speed.Enter.
How many thousand of my poorest SubiectsAre at this howre asleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe,Natures soft Nurse, how haue I frighted thee,That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids downe,And steepe my Sences in Forgetfulnesse?Why rather (Sleepe) lyest thou in smoakie Cribs,Vpon vneasie Pallads stretching thee,And huisht with bussing Night, flyes to thy slumber,Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great?Vnder the Canopies of costly State,And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melodie?O thou dull God, why lyest thou with the vilde,In loathsome Beds, and leau'st the Kingly Couch,A Watch-case, or a common Larum-Bell?Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Mast,Seale vp the Ship-boyes Eyes, and rock his Braines,In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge,And in the visitation of the Windes,Who take the Ruffian Billowes by the top,Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging themWith deaff'ning Clamors in the slipp'ry Clouds,That with the hurley, Death it selfe awakes?Canst thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy ReposeTo the wet Sea-Boy, in an houre so rude:And in the calmest, and most stillest Night,With all appliances, and meanes to boote,Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe,Vneasie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.Enter Warwicke and Surrey.
War. Many good-morrowes to your Maiestie
King. Is it good-morrow, Lords?War. 'Tis One a Clock, and past
King. Why then good-morrow to you all (my Lords:)Haue you read o're the Letters that I sent you?War. We haue (my Liege.)King. Then you perceiue the Body of our Kingdome,How foule it is: what ranke Diseases grow,And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?War. It is but as a Body, yet distemper'd,Which to his former strength may be restor'd,With good aduice, and little Medicine:My Lord Northumberland will soone be cool'd
King. Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate,And see the reuolution of the TimesMake Mountaines leuell, and the Continent(Wearie of solide firmenesse) melt it selfeInto the Sea: and other Times, to seeThe beachie Girdle of the OceanToo wide for Neptunes hippes; how Chances mocksAnd Changes fill the Cuppe of AlterationWith diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends,Did feast together; and in two yeeres after,Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres since,This Percie was the man, neerest my Soule,Who, like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affaires,And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot:Yea, for my sake, euen to the eyes of RichardGaue him defiance. But which of you was by(You Cousin Neuil, as I may remember)When Richard, with his Eye, brim-full of Teares,(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland)Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:)Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the whichMy Cousin Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne:(Though then, Heauen knowes, I had no such intent,But that necessitie so bow'd the State,That I and Greatnesse were compell'd to kisse:)The Time shall come (thus did hee follow it)The Time will come, that foule Sinne gathering head,Shall breake into Corruption: so went on,Fore-telling this same Times Condition,And the diuision of our Amitie
War. There is a Historie in all mens Liues,Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd:The which obseru'd, a man may prophecieWith a neere ayme, of the maine chance of things,As yet not come to Life, which in their SeedesAnd weake beginnings lye entreasured:Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time;And by the necessarie forme of this,King Richard might create a perfect guesse,That great Northumberland, then false to him,Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falsenesse,Which should not finde a ground to roote vpon,Vnlesse on you
King. Are these things then Necessities?Then let vs meete them like Necessities;And that same word, euen now cryes out on vs:They say, the Bishop and NorthumberlandAre fiftie thousand strong
War. It cannot be (my Lord:)Rumor doth double, like the Voice, and Eccho,The numbers of the feared. Please it your GraceTo goe to bed, vpon my Life (my Lord)The Pow'rs that you alreadie haue sent forth,Shall bring this Prize in very easily.To comfort you the more, I haue receiu'dA certaine instance, that Glendour is dead.Your Maiestie hath beene this fort-night ill,And these vnseason'd howres perforce must addeVnto your Sicknesse
King. I will take your counsaile:And were these inward Warres once out of hand,Wee would (deare Lords) vnto the Holy-Land.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Shallow and Silence: with Mouldie, Shadow, Wart, Feeble,Bull-calfe.
Shal. Come-on, come-on, come-on: giue mee yourHand, Sir; giue mee your Hand, Sir: an early stirrer, bythe Rood. And how doth my good Cousin Silence?Sil. Good-morrow, good Cousin Shallow
Shal. And how doth my Cousin, your Bed-fellow?and your fairest Daughter, and mine, my God-DaughterEllen?Sil. Alas, a blacke Ouzell (Cousin Shallow.)Shal. By yea and nay, Sir. I dare say my Cousin Williamis become a good Scholler? hee is at Oxford still, is heenot?Sil. Indeede Sir, to my cost
Shal. Hee must then to the Innes of Court shortly: I was once of Clements Inne; where (I thinke) they will talke of mad Shallow yet
Sil. You were call'd lustie Shallow then (Cousin.) Shal. I was call'd any thing: and I would haue done any thing indeede too, and roundly too. There was I, and little Iohn Doit of Staffordshire, and blacke George Bare, and Francis Pick-bone, and Will Squele a Cotsal-man, you had not foure such Swindge-bucklers in all the Innes of Court againe: And I may say to you, wee knew where the Bona-Roba's were, and had the best of them all at commandement. Then was Iacke Falstaffe (now Sir Iohn) a Boy, and Page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolke
Sil. This Sir Iohn (Cousin) that comes hither anon about Souldiers? Shal. The same Sir Iohn, the very same: I saw him breake Scoggan's Head at the Court-Gate, when hee was a Crack, not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stock-fish, a Fruiterer, behinde Greyes-Inne. Oh the mad dayes that I haue spent! and to see how many of mine olde Acquaintance are dead? Sil. Wee shall all follow (Cousin.) Shal. Certaine: 'tis certaine: very sure, very sure: Death is certaine to all, all shall dye. How a good Yoke of Bullocks at Stamford Fayre? Sil. Truly Cousin, I was not there
Shal. Death is certaine. Is old Double of your Towneliuing yet?Sil. Dead, Sir
Shal. Dead? See, see: hee drew a good Bow: and dead? hee shot a fine shoote. Iohn of Gaunt loued him well, and betted much Money on his head. Dead? hee would haue clapt in the Clowt at Twelue-score, and carryed you a fore-hand Shaft at foureteene, and foureteene and a halfe, that it would haue done a mans heart good to see. How a score of Ewes now? Sil. Thereafter as they be: a score of good Ewes may be worth tenne pounds
Shal. And is olde Double dead?Enter Bardolph and his Boy.
Sil. Heere come two of Sir Iohn Falstaffes Men (as Ithinke.)Shal. Good-morrow, honest Gentlemen
Bard. I beseech you, which is Iustice Shallow? Shal. I am Robert Shallow (Sir) a poore Esquire of this Countie, and one of the Kings Iustices of the Peace: What is your good pleasure with me? Bard. My Captaine (Sir) commends him to you: my Captaine, Sir Iohn Falstaffe: a tall Gentleman, and a most gallant Leader