Suppos'd fincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind:
And doth enlarge his rifing with the blood
Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret ftones;
Derives from heav'n his quarrel and his caufe;
Tells them, he doth beftride a bleeding land
Gafping for life, under great Bolingbroke:
And more, and lefs, do flock to follow him.
North. I knew of this before: but to speak truth,
This prefent grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me, and counfel every man
The apteft way for fafety and revenge:

Get pofts, and letters, and make friends with speed;
Never fo few, nor never yet more need.

SCENE IV. A Street in London.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir John Falstaff, with bis Page bearing his sword

and buckler.

Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what fays the doctor to my

water?

Page. He faid, Sir, the water it felf was a good healthy But for the party that own'd it, he might have more diseases than he knew for.

water.

The

Fal. Men of all forts take a pride to gird at me. brain of this foolish-compounded-clay, Man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty in my felf, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a fow, that hath overwhelm'd all her litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to fet me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whorfon mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with an aglet 'till now but I will fet you neither in gold nor filver! but in vile apparel, and fend you back again to your mafter, for a jewel: The Juvenil, the Prince your mafter! whofe chin is not yet fledg'd; I will fooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek: yet he will not ftick to fay, his face is a face-royal. Heav'n may finifh it when it will, it is not a hair amifs yet he may keep it still as a face-royal, for

a barber shall never earn fixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever fince his father was a batchelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can affure him. What faid Mr. Dombledon about the fatten for my short cloak and flops?

Page. He faid, Sir, you fhould procure him better affurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours, he lik'd not the fecurity.

Fal. Let him be damn'd like the glutton, may his tongue be hotter! a whorfon Achitophel, a rafcally yea-forfooth knave, to bear a gentleman in hand, and then ftand upon fecurity! the whorfon smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high fhoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honeft taking up, then they must stand upon fecurity: I had as lief they would put rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to ftop it with fecurity. I looked he should have fent me two and twenty yards of fatten, as I am a true knight, and he fends me fecurity. Well, he may fleep in fecurity, for he hath the horn of abundance. And the lightness of his wife fhines through it, and yet cannot he fee, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. Where's Bardolph?

Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your Worship a horfe.

Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield. If I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.

SCENE V.

Enter Chief Justice, and Servants.

Page. Sir, here comes the Nobleman that committed the Prince for ftriking him, about Bardolph.

Fal. Wait clofe, I will not fee him.

Ch. Juft. What's he that

goes there?

Serv. Falftaff, an't please your Lordship.

Ch. Juft. He that was in queftion for the robbery?
Serv. He, my Lord. But he hath fince done good fer-

vice at Shrewsbury and, as I hear, is now going with fome charge to the Lord John of Lancaster.

Ch. Juft. What, to York? call him back again.
Serv. Sir John Falstaff!

Fal.

Fal. Boy, tell him I am deaf !

Page. You muft fpeak louder, my mafter is deaf.

Ch. Juft. I am fure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. Go pluck him by the elbow. I muft fpeak with

him.

Serv. Sir John!

Fal. What! a young knave and beg! are there not wars? is there not employment? doth not the King lack fubjects? do not the rebels need foldiers? though it be a fhame to be on any fide but one, it is worse shame to beg, than to be on the worse fide, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.

Serv. You mistake me, Sir.

Fal. Why, Sir, did I fay you were an honest man? setting my knighthood and my foldiership afide, I had lied in my throat, if I had faid fo.

Serv. I pray you, Sir, then fet your knight-hood and your foldiership afide, and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you fay I am any other than an ho

neft man.

Fal. I give thee leave to tell me fo? I lay afide that which grows to me? if thou gett'ft any leave of me, hang me; if thou tak'st leave, thou wert better be hang'd: you hunt-counter, hence; avaunt !

Serv. Sir, my Lord would fpeak with you.

Ch. Juft. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

Fal. My good Lord! God give your Lordship good time of day. I am glad to fee your Lordship abroad; I heard fay, your Lordship was fick. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by advice. Your Lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you: fonie relifh of the faltnefs of time; and I moft humbly beteech your Lordship, to have a reverend care of your health.

Ch. Juft. Sir John, 1 fent for you before your `expedition to Soretofbury.

Fal. If it pleafe your Lordship, I hear his Majefty is return'd with fome difcomfort from Wales.

Ch. Juft. I talk not of his Majefty: you would not come when I fens for you.

Fal.

Fal. And I hear moreover, his Highness is fall'n into this fame whorfan apoplexy.

Ch. Juft. Well, heav'n mend him! I pray, 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 fleeping in the blood, a whorfon tingling.

Ch. Juft. 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 it in Galen. It is a kind of deafness.

Ch. Juft. I think you are fall'n into that disease: for you hear not what I fay to you.

Fal. Very well, my Lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not lift'ning, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal.

Ch. Juft. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I be your phyfician Fal. I am as poor as Job, my Lord, but not fo patients your Lordship may minifter the potion of imprisonment to me, in refpect of poverty; but how I fhould be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wife may make some dram of a fcruple, or indeed, a fcruple it felf.

Ch. Juft. I fent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to fpeak with me.

Fal. As I was then advis'd by my Counsel learned in the laws of this land-service, I did not come..

Cb. Juft. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.

Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. Ch. Juft. Your means are very flender, and your wafte great.

Fal. I would it were otherwife: I would my means were greater, and my wafte flenderer.

Ch. Juft. You have mif-led the youthful Prince.

Fal. The young Prince hath mif-led me. I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.

Ch. Juft. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound; your day's fervice at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over. VOL. V.

your

your night's exploit on Gads-bill. You may thank the unquiet time, for your quiet o'er-posting that action. Fal. My Lord?

Ch. Juft. But fince all is well, keep it fo: wake not a fleeping Wolf.

Fal. To wake a Wolf, is as bad as to smell a Fox.
Ch. Juft. What? you are as a candle, the better part

burnt out.

Fal. A waffel candle, my Lord; all tallow: but if I did fay of wax, my growth would approve the truth.

Ch. Juft. There is not a white hair on your face, but Thould have his effect of gravity.

Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.

Ch. Juft. You fellow the young Prince up and down, like his ill angel.

Fal. Not fo, my Lord, your ill angel is light: but I hope he that looks upon me, will take me without weighing; and yet, in fome refpects I grant, I cannot go ;-I cannot tell; Virtue is of fo little regard in these cofter-monger days, that true valour is turned bear-herd. Pregnancy is made a tapfter, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving recknings; all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a goofe berry. You that are old, confider not the capacities of us that are young; you measure the heat of your livers, with the bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the va ward of our youth, I must confess are wags too.

Ch. Juft. Do you fet down your name in the fcrowl of youth, that are written down old, with all the characters of age? have you not a moift eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreafing leg? an increasing belly is not your voice broken? your wind fhort? your chin double? your wit fingle? and every part about you blafted with antiquity? and will you yet call your self 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 loft it with hallowing and finging of Anthems. To approve my youth further, I will et. The truth is, I am only old in judgment, and un

der