Plays and Poems

Only compound me with forgotten dust;
Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
For now a time is come to mock at form.
Harry the Fifth is crown'd! Up, vanity!
Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors,
hence!

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And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness!
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum:
Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more:
England shall double gild his treble guilt,
England shall give him office, honour, might;
For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
O my poor kingdom! sick with civil blows.
When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
O! thou wilt be a wilderness again,
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.

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Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.
Come hither, Harry: sit thou by my bed;
And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,
By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways
I met this crown; and I myself know well
How troublesome it sat upon my head:
To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation;
For all the soil of the achievement goes
With me into the earth. It seem'd in me
But as an honour snatch'd with boisterous hand,
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their assistances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed.
Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears
Thou seest with peril I have answered;
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument; and now my death
Changes the mode: for what in me was purchas'd,
Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;
So thou the garland wear'st successively.
Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I
could do,

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Prince. O pardon me, my liege; but for my Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;

tears,

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The moist impediments unto my speech,
I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
The course of it so far. There is your crown;
And he that wears the crown immortally
Long guard it yours! If I affect it more
Than as your honour and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
Which my most true and inward duteous spirit
Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending.
God witness with me, when I here came in,
And found no course of breath within your
majesty,

How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign, 150 More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
O! let me in my present wildness die

And never live to show the incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed.
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,
I spake unto this crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee
depending

Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold:
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in medicine potable:

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But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,

Accusing it, I put it on my head,

To try with it, as with an enemy

That had before my face murder'd my father,
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
If any rebel or vain spirit of mine

Did with the least affection of a welcome

Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let God for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the poorest vassal is

That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. Hen. O my son!

God put it in thy mind to take it hence,

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That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
How I came by the crown, O God forgive!
And grant it may with thee in true peace live.
Prince. My gracious liege,

You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
Then plain and right must my possession be:
Which I with more than with a common pain
'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

Enter JOHN OF LANCASTER.

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K. Hen. Look, look! here comes my John of
Lancaster.

Lanc. Health, peace, and happiness to my
royal father!

K. Hen. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace,
son John;

But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown
From this bare wither'd trunk: upon thy sight
My worldly business makes a period.
Where is my Lord of Warwick?
Prince.

My Lord of Warwick! 230
Re-enter WARWICK with Others.

K. Hen. Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
War. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
K. Hen. Laud be to God! even there my life
must end.

It hath been prophesied to me many years

That thou might'st win the more thy father's love, I should not die but in Jerusalem,

Davy. Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served: and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat?

Shal. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook are there no young pigeons?

Davy. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing and plough-irons. 20

Shal. Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.

Davy. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?

Shal. A' shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? Shal. Yea, Davy. I will use him well. A friend i' the court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy, for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.

Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.

Shal. Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy.

Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Wincot against Clement Perkes of the hill.

Shal. There are many complaints, Davy, against that Visor that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.

Davy. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.

Shal. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong.

Bard. I am glad to see your worship. Shal. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph: To the Page. And welcome, my tall fellow. Come, Sir John.

Fal. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. Exit SHALLOW.

Bardolph, look to our horses.

Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page. If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his: they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like servingman. Their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow. I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore let men take heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, and a' shall laugh without intervallums. O it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders. O! you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up.

Palace. Enter WARWICK and the Lord Chief Justice. War. How now, my lord chief justice! whither away?

Ch. Just. How doth the king?

War. Exceeding well: his cares are now all ended.

Ch. Just. I hope not dead.
War.

He's walk'd the way of nature;
And to our purposes he lives no more.
Ch. Just. I would his majesty had call'd me
with him:

The service that I truly did his life
Hath left me open to all injuries.

War. Indeed I think the young king loves

Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father;

Lane. We meet like men that had forgot to The image of the king whom I presented, speak.

War. We do remember; but our argument Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

Lanc. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
Glou. O! good my lord, you have lost a friend
indeed;

And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own.

Lanc. Though no man be assur'd what grace
to find,

You stand in coldest expectation.

I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
Clar. Well, you must now speak Sir John
Falstaff fair,

Which swims against your stream of quality.
Ch. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in
honour,

Led by the impartial conduct of my soul;
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall'd remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I'll to the king my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.
War. Here comes the prince.

Enter King HENRY the Fifth, attended. Ch. Just. Good morrow, and God save your majesty!

K. Hen. V. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,

Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear:
This is the English, not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on
And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,
I'll be your father and your brother too;

Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your

cares:

Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I ;
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.
Lanc., etc. We hope no other from your majesty.
K. Hen. V. You all look strangely on me: To
the Chief Justice. And you most;

You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
K. Hen. V. No!

The image of his power lay then in me:
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought,
To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person:
Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case

yours;

Be now the father and propose a son,
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your power soft silencing your son:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state
What I have done that misbecame my place, 100
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

K. Hen. V. You are right, justice; and you
weigh this well;

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Therefore still bear the balance and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may increase
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words:
'Happy am I, that have a man so bold
That dares do justice on my proper son;
And not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me :
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have used to bear;
With this remembrance, that you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit
As you have 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 ear
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practis'd wise directions.
And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you;
My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his spirit sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world,
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now:
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament;
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd nation;
That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us;

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In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
Our coronation done, we will accite,

As I before remember'd, all our state :
And, God consigning to my good intents,

Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest any thing and wilt not call, beshrew thy No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, heart. To the Page. Welcome, my little tiny God shorten Harry's happy life one day. thief; and welcome indeed, too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph and to all the cavaleiroes about London.

Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Gloucestershire. The Garden
of SHALLOW'S House.
Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, Davy,
BARDOLPH, and the Page.

Shal. Nay, you shall see mine orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth; come, cousin Silence; and then to bed. Fal. Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.

Shal. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy: well said, Davy.

Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses: he is your servingman and your husband.

Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John: by the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper: a good varlet. Now sit down, now sit down. Come, cousin.

Sil. Ah! sirrah, quoth a', we shall

Shal. Davy!
Davy. Your worship! I'll be with you straight.
A cup of wine, sir?

Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come;

Sil. A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,
And drink unto the leman mine;
And a merry heart lives long-a.
Fal. Well said, Master Silence.

Sil. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night.

Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence.

I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.

Fal. 'Tis so.

Sil. Is 't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.

Re-enter DAVY.

Davy. An't please your worship, there's one
Pistol come from the court with news.
Fal. From the court! let him come in.

Enter PISTOL.

How now, Pistol!

Pist. Sir John, God save you! sir.

Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

Sil. By 'r lady, I think a' be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

Re-enter DAVY.

I speak of Africa and golden joys.

Davy. There's a dish of leather-coats for you. Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news!

Setting them before BARDOLPH.

Pist. Puff!

Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee,
And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
And golden times and happy news of price.
Fal. I prithee now, deliver them like a man
of this world.

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Pist. A foutre for the world and worldlings base!

Sil. And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.

Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons! And shall good news be baffled?

Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.

Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

Pist. Why then, lament therefore.

Shal. Give me pardon, sir: if, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it there's but two ways, either to utter them, or to conceal

them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority.

Pist. Under which king, Bezonian? speak, or die.

Shal. Under King Harry. Pist. Harry the Fourth? or Fifth? Shal. Harry the Fourth. Pist. A foutre for thine office! Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king; Harry the Fifth 's the man. I speak the truth: When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like The bragging Spaniard.

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Fal. What is the old king dead?

Pist. As nail in door: the things I speak are just.

Fal. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will doublecharge thee with dignities.

Bard. O joyful day!

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I would not take a knighthood for my fortune. Pist. What! I do bring good news.

Fal. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am fortune's steward. Get on thy boots: we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph. Exit BARDOLPH. Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow: I know the young king is sick for me. Let us take any man's horses; the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are they which have been my friends, and woe unto my lord chief justice!

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Pist. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! 'Where is the life that late I led?' say they : Why, here it is: welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-London. A Street. Enter Beadles, dragging in Mistress QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET.

Quick. No, thou arrant knave: I would to God that I might die that I might have thee hanged; thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.

First Bead. The constables have delivered her over to me, and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her: there hath been a man or two lately killed about her.

Doll. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal. An the child I now go with do miscarry, thou hadst better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain. 12

Quick. O the Lord! that Sir John were come; he would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry! First Bead. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead that you and Pistol beat among

you.

Doll. I'll tell thee what, thou thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swinged for this, you blue-bottle rogue! you filthy famished correctioner! if you be not swinged, I'll forswear half-kirtles.

First Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant,

come.

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