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with an agate till now; but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send yo back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about the satin for my short cloak and my slops?
Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph; he would not take his bond and yours: he liked not the security.
Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! pray God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security. The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with security. I looked a' should have sent me twoand-twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph ?
Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse.
Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he 'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. 60
Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Servant. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph.
Fal. Wait close; I will not see him. Ch. Just. What's he that goes there? Serv. Falstaff, an 't please your lordship. Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery?
Serv. He, my lord; but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the Lord John of Lancaster.
Ch. Just. What! to York? Call him back again. Serv. Sir John Falstaff!
Serv. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Fal-taff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad; I heard say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care of your health.
Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury.
Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales.
Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty. would not come when I sent for you.
Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy.
Ch. Just. Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with you.
Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an 't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.
Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is. Fal. It hath its original from much grief, from study and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness.
Ch. Just. I think you are fallen into the disease, for you hear not what I say to you.
Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an 't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal.
Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician.
Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.
Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me.
Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come.
Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.
Fal. He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less.
Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.
Fd. I would it were otherwise: I would my means were greater and my waist slenderer. 159 Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads. hill: you may thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting that action.
Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily : if it be a hot day, and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep ont his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever. But it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to
Fal. My lord!
C. Jus'. But since all is well, keep it so: make it too common. If ye will needs say I am wake not a sleeping wolf. an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be eaten to death with rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
Fal. To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. Ch. Just. What you are as a candle, the better part burnt out.
F. A wassail candle, my lord; all tallow: if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your expedition!
Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face but should have his effect of gravity.
Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. 181
John of Lancaster against the archbishop and the Earl of Northumberland.
Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity, and will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!
Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with hollaing and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him! For the box o' the ear that the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it, and the young lion repents; marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
Ch. Just. Well, God send the prince a better companion!
Fal. God send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him.
Ch. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord
Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth?
Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light, but I hope he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: and yet, in some respects, IA grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these costermonger times that true valour is turned bear-herd pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too.
Ch. Just. Not a penny; not a penny; you are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. Excunt Chief Justice and Servant, Ful. If I do, filiip me with a three-man beetle. man can no more separate age and covetousness than a' can part young limbs and lechery; but the gont galls the one, and the pox pinches the other, and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!
Fal. What money is in my purse?
Fal. I can get no remedy against this consump
SCENE III.-York. A Room in the Archbishop's
Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the Lords HAST
And, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms:
Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file
And our supplies live largely in the hope
L. Bard. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:
Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand
Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
L. Bard. Yes, if this present quality of war, Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot, Lives so in hope, as in an early spring We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, Hope gives not so much warrant as despair 40 That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
What do we then but draw anew the model
To build at all? Much more, in this great work,
Hast. Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair
Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
I think we are a body strong enough,
L. Bard. What is the king but five-andtwenty thousand?
liast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Wel-h Baying him at the heels: never fear that.
L. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
Hast. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:
Let us on
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die,
Cry'st now, 'O earth! yield us that king again, And take thou this.' Othoughts of men accurst! Past and to come seems best; things present
Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord him and all.
Fung. It is entered.
Quick. Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' stand to 't?
Fang. Sirrah, where 's Snare?
Fang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. Quick. Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered
Suare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.
Quick. Alas the day! take heed of him: he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly. In good faith, he cares not what mischief he doth if his weapon be out: he will foin
like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.
Fang. If I can close with him I care not for
Quick. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,
Quick. I am undone with his going; I warrant you, he's an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not 'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner-saving your manhoods-to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the Lubber's head in Lumbert street, to Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and Master Snare: do me, do me, do me your offices.
Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH.
Fal. How now! whose mare's dead? what's
Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. 50
Fal. Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel.
is for all, all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his but I will have some of it out again, or I will ride thee o' nights like the mare.
Fal. I think I am as like to ride the mare if I have any vantage of ground to get up.
Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by her own?
Quick. Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah! thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the king's? Ah! thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. 60
Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. Fang. A rescue! a rescue! Quick. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo 't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo 't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!
Fal. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.
Enter the Lord Chief Justice, attended. Ch. Just. What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho!
Quick. Good my lord, be good to me! I beseech you, stand to me! 70
Ch. Just. How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here?
Doth this become your place, your time and
You should have been well on your way to York. Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him?
Quick. O my most worshipful lord, an 't please your grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.
Ch. Just. For what sum?
Quick. It is more than for some, my lord; it
Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee! Quick. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a seacoal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told thee they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying that ere long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy book oath: deny it if thou canst.
Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up and down the town that her eldest son is like you. She hath been in good case, and the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them.
Ch. Just. Sir John, Sir John, I am well ac quainted with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such more than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration; you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person. Quick. Yea, in troth, my lord.
Ch. Just. Prithee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the villany you have done with her: the one you may do with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.
Fal. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You call honourable boldness impudent sauciness: if a man will make court's and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble duty remembered, I will not be your suitor: I say to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty employ ment in the king's affairs.
Ch. Just. You speak as having power to do wrong but answer in the effect of your reputa tion, and satisfy the poor woman. Fal. Come hither, hostess.
Ch. Just. Now, Master Gower! what news!
Gow. The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of
SCENE II.— The Same. Another Street. Are near at hand : the rest the paper tells.
Enter the PRINCE and Poins.
Prince. Before God, I am exceeding weary. Fal. As I am a gentleman. Come, no more Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought words of it.
weariness durst not have attached one of so Quick. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I high blood. must be fain to pawn both my plate and the Prince. Faith, it does me, thongh it discolours tapestry of my dining-chambers.
the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge Pal. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking : it. Doth it not show vilely in me to desire and for thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or small beer? the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely in water-work, is worth a thousand of these bed studied as to remember so weak a composition. bangings and these fly-bitten tapestris. Let it Prince. Belike then my appetite was not be ten pound if thou canst. Come, an 'twere princely got ; for, by my troth, I do now renot for thy humours, there's not a better wench member the poor creature, small beer. But, in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy indeed, these humble considerations make me action. Come, thou must not be in this humour out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace with me. Dost not know me? Come, come, is it to me to remember thy name, or to know I know thou wast set on to this.
thy face to-morrow! or to take note how many Quick. Prithee, Sir John, let it be but twenty pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. these, and nobles : i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, those that were thy peach-coloured ones! or to so God save me, la !
170 bear the inventory of thy shirts ; as, one for Pal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift : superfluity, and one other for use ! But that you 'll be a fool still.
the tennis-court-keeper knows better than I, for Quick. Well, you sball have it, though I pawn it is a low ebb of linen with thee when thou my gown. I hope you 'll come to supper. keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done You'll pay me all together ?
a great while, because the rest of thy lowPal. Will I live? To BARDOLPH. Go, with countries have made a shift to eat up thy holher, with her ; hook on, hook on.
land : and God knows whether those that bawl Quick. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit his king. at supper?
dom ; but the midwives say the children are Pal. No more words ; let's have her.
not in the fault ; whereupon the world increases, Exeunt Mistress QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, and kindreds are mightily strengthened.
Officers, and Page. Poins. How ill it follows, after you have Ch. Just. I have heard better news.
laboured so hard, you should talk soidly! Tell me, Pal. What's the news, my good lord ? how many good young princes would do so, their Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night? fathers being so sick as yours at this time is? Gine. At Basingstoke, my lord.
Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins ? Pal. I hope, my lord, all's well : what is the Poins. Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent news, my lord ?
good thing. Ch. Just. Come all his forces back?
Prince. It shall serve among wits of no higher Go. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred breeding than thine. horse,
Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster, thing that you will tell. Against Northumberland and the archbishop. 190 Prince. Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that
Pal. Comes the king back from Wales, my I should be sad, now my father is sick : albeit noble lord ?
I could tell to thee, as to one it pleases me for Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me pre- fault of a better, to call my friend, I could be sently. Come, go along with me, good Master sad, and sad indeed too. Gower.
Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject. Fil. My lord!
Prince. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far Ch. Just. What's the matter ?
in the devil's book as thou and Falstaff for Pal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with obduracy and persistency : let the end try the me to dinner ?
But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly Gou. I must wait upon my good lord here; I that my father is so sick ; and keeping such vile thank you, good Sir John.
201 company as thou art hath in reason taken from Ch. Jul. Sir John, you loiter here too long, me all ostentation of sorrow. being you are to take soldiers up in counties as Poins. The reason ? Fou go
Prince. What would'st thou think of me if I Fol. Will you sup with me, Master Gower ?
should weep? Ch. Just. What" foolish master taught you Poins. I would think thee a most princely these manners, Sir John ?
hypocrite. Pal. Master Gower, if they become me not, Prince. It would be every man's thought; and he was a fool that taught them me. This is the thou art a blessed fellow to think as every man right fencing grace, my lord ; tap for tap, and thinks : never a man's thought in the world keeps so part fair.
the roadway better than thine: every man would Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee! thou think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites art a great fool.
Eceunt. your most worshipful thought to think so ?