gout, or a gout of this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter if I do halt: I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit will make use of anything I will turn diseases to commodity. [Exeunt. Lives so in hope as in an early spring SCENE III.-York. A Room in the Archbishop's To build at all? Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the LORDS And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; How in our means we should advance ourselves Bard. The question, then, Lord Hastings, Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand Bard. Arch. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph: for in deed It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. Eating the air on promise of supply, Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war. Indeed the instant action (a cause on foot) Much more in this great work Hast. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of fair I think we are a body strong enough, Bard. What! is the King but five-and-twenty thousand? Hast. To us no more: nay, not so much, Lord For his divisions, as the times do brawl, In three divided; and his coffers sound Arch. That he should draw his several strengths And come against us in full puissance, Hast. If he should do so, Baying him at his heels. Never fear that. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many, with what loud applause Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times? They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, Are now become enamoured on his grave. Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be SCENE I.-London. A Street. Enter Hostess; FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang. It is entered. Host. Where is your yeoman? Is it a lusty yeoman: will a' stand to 't? Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare? Host. O lord, ay: good Master Snare! Fang. We must arrest Sir John Falstaff. Host. Yea, good Master Snare: I have entered him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. Host. Alas the day! take heed of him: he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most. beastly. In good faith, a' cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will foin Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once, an a' come but within my vice, Host. I am undone by 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. He comes continuantly to Pie-corner (saving your manhoods), to buy a saddle; and he 's indited to dinner to the Lubbar'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 loan for a poor lone woman to bear and I have borne, and borne, and borne ; and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fabbed 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. Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH. Yonder Le 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. Fal. How now: whose mare 's dead? what 's the matter? Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. Fal. Away, varlets!-Draw Bardolph; cut me off the villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. Host. Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou, wilt thou, thou bastardly rogue?-Murder, murder ! O thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the King's? O thou honeyseed rogue! thou art a honeyseed: a man-queller, and a womanqueller. Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. Fang. A rescue; a rescue! Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two.— Thou wo't, wo't thou; thou wo't, wo't thou? Do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hempseed! you Fal. Away, you scullion; you rampallian; fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, attended. Ch. Just. What's the matter? Keep the peace here, ho! Host. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. Ch. Just. How now, Sir John: what, are you brawling here? Doth this become your place, your time, and business? You should have been well on your way to York.— Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st thou on him? Host. 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? Host. It is more than for some, my lord: it 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'll 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? Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and thy money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphinchamber, at the round table by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun-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 on 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 acquainted 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. Host. Yea, in troth, my lord. Ch. Just. Pr'y thee 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'sy 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 employment in the King's affairs. Ch. Just. You speak as having power to do wrong but answer in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman. Fal. Come hither, hostess. [Taking her aside. Enter Gower. Ch. Just. Now, Master Gower: what news? Gow. The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales, Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. Host. Nay, you said so before. Fal. As I am a gentleman :-come, no more words of it. Host. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers. Fal. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking: and for thy walls,- —a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of these bedhangings and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound if thou canst. Come, an it were not for thy humours, there is not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and 'draw thy action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me: dost not know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this. Host. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i'faith I am loath to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la. Fal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a fool still. Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope you 'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here: I thank you, good Sir John. Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go. Fal. Will you sup with me, Master Gower? Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? Fal. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me.-This is the right fencing grace, my lord: tap for tap, and so part fair. Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Another Street. Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS. P. Hen. Trust me, I am exceeding weary. Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought weariness durst not have attached one of so high blood. P. Hen. 'Faith it does me, though it discolours the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not shew vilely in me to desire small beer? Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to remember so weak a composition. P. Hen. Belike, then, my appetite was not Fal. Will I live?—Go, with her, with her [to princely got; for by my troth I do now rememBARDOLPH]: hook on, hook on. Host. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? Fal. No more words: let's have her. [Exeunt Hostess, BARDOLPH, Officers, Ch. Just. I have heard better news. Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well: what's the news, my lord? Ch. Just. Come all his forces back? Gow. No: fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently. Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. Fal. My lord! Ch. Just. What's the matter? ber the poor creature small beer. But indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace is it to me. to remember thy name: or to know thy face tomorrow or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. these, and those that were the peach-coloured ones: or to bear the inventory of thy shirts; as, one for superfluity, and one other for use?—but that the tennis-court keeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy low-countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen, shall inherit his kingdom: but the mid wives say the children are not in the fault: whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened. Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is? P. Hen. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes; and let it be an excellent good thing. P. Hen. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. Poins. Go to: I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell. P. Hen. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be sad now my father is sick 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. Poins. Very hardly, upon such a subject. P. Hen. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in the devil's book as thou and Falstaff, for obduracy and persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. Poins. The reason? P. Hen. What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep? Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. P. Hen. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would think me an hypocrite, indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to think so? Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffed to Falstaff. P. Hen. And to thee. Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of: I can hear it with my own ears. The worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands: and those two things I confess I cannot help.-By the mass, here comes Bardolph. P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had him from me christian, and look if the fat villain have not transformed him ape. Enter BARDOLPH and Page. Bard. 'Save your grace! P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph! Bard. Come, you virtuous ass [to the Page], you bashful fool, must you be blushing: wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you become! Is it such a matter to get a pottlepot's maidenhead? Page. He called me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the window: at last I spied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in the alewife's new petticoat, and peeped through. P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited? Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit; away! Pàge. Away, you rascally Althea's dream; away! P. Hen. Instruct us, boy: what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was delivered of a firebrand: and therefore I call him her dream. P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation. There it is, boy. [Gives him money. Poins. O that this good blossom could be kept from cankers!-Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among you, the gallows shall have wrong. P. Hen. And how doth thy master, Bardolph? Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to town: there's a letter for you. Poins. Delivered with good respect. And how doth the martlemas, your master? Bard. In bodily health, sir. Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician but that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies not. P. Hen. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog: and he holds his place; for look you how he writes. POINS reads. "John Falstaff, knight,"— Every man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself. Even like those that are kin to the King; for they never prick their finger but they say, "There is some of the King's blood spilt." "How comes that?" says he that takes upon him not to conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's cap: "I am the King's poor cousin, sir.” P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But the letter:— POINS reads. "Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales; greeting." Why, this is a certificate. P. Hen. Peace! POINS reads. "I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity." He sure means brevity in breath; short-winded. Reads. "I commend me to thee; I commend thee; and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much that he swears thou art |
