Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the sisters three! Come, Atropos, I say! Host. Here's goodly stuff toward! Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. Fal. Get you down stairs. [Drawing, and driving PISTOL out. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now. -Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. [Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you. Host. Are you not hurt i'the groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly. f Re-enter BARDOLPH.. Fal. Have you turned him out of doors? Lave hurt him, Sir, in the shoulder. Fal. A rascal! to brave me! Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Aias, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face;-come on, you whoreson chops: -Ah, rogue! i'faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain! Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the in a blanket. rogue Dol. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, I'll canvas thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Music. Page. The music is come, Sir. Fal. Let them play;-Play, Sirs.-Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver. Dol. I'faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o'days, and foiningt o'nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter behind, Prince HENRY and POINs, disguised like Drawers. Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's head: do not bid me remember mine end. Dol. Sirrah, what humour is the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow : he would have made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread well. Dol. They say, Poins has a good wit. Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there is no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet. Dol. Why does the prince love him so then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a biguess: and he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon joint-stools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince Thrusting. P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanack to that! Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon,* his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables; his note-book, his counsel-keeper. Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Dol. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart. Fal. I am old, I am old. Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all. Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtlet of? I shall receive money on Thursday: thou shalt it grows late, we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me, have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come : when I am gone. Dol. By my troth, thou'lt set me a weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.--Well, hearken the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis. P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, Sir. [Advancing. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's?-And art not thou Poins his brother? P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead? Fal. A better than thou; I am a gentleman, thou art a drawer. P. Hen. Very true, Sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears. Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London.-Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales? Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,-by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome. [Leaning his hand upon DOLL. Dol. How! you fat fool, I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat. P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman? Host. 'Blessing o'your good heart! and so she is, by my troth. Fal. Didst thou hear me? P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gad's-hill: you knew, I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose, to try my patience. Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think, thou wast within hearing. P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honour; no abuse. P. Hen. Not! to dispraise me; and call mepantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse! An astronomical term. A short clonk ready to burst:-Well, sweet Jack, have a care [Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH. Host, Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascodtime, but an honester, and truer-hearted man, Fal. No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him:-in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, boys, none. P. Hen. See now, whether pure fear, and-Well, fare thee well. entire cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or, is the boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked? Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable: and his face is Lucifer's privykitchen, where he doth nothing but roast maltworms. For the boy,-there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too. P. Hen. For the women, Fal. For one of them,--she is in hell already, and burns, poor soul! For the other, I owe her money; and whether she be damned for that, I know not. Host. No, I warrant you. Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art quit for that: Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which, I think, thou wilt howl. Host. All victuallers do so: What's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,- Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against. Host. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the door there, Francis. Enter PETO. P. Hen. Peto, how now? what news? ster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts, So idly to profane the precious time; [Exeunt Prince HENRY, POINS, PETO and Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. [Knocking heard.] More knocking at the door? Re-enter BARDOLPH. How now? what's the matter. Bard. You must away to court, Sir, presently; a dozen captains stay at door for you. Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah. [To the PAGE.]--Farewell, hostess ;--farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: the undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches: If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. Dol. I cannot speak;-If my heart be not Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tear-sheet,- Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come to my master. Host. O run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. ACT III. SCENE I--A Room in the Palace. K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell? brains K. Hen O heaven! that one might read the SCENE 11-Court before Justice SHALLOW'S book of fate; And see the revolution of the times What perils past, what crosses to ensue,- friends, Did feast together, and in two years after, intent; But that necessity so bow'd the state, Shall break into corruption :- War. There is a history in al men's lives, ness; Which should, not find a ground to root upon, Unless on you. K. Hen. Are these things then necessities? Then let us meet them like necessities? And that same word even now cries out on us; They say, the bishop and Northumberland Are fifty thousand strong. War It cannot be, my lord; Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the fear'd:-Please it your grace, To go to bed; upon my life, my lord, K Hen. I will take your counsel: House in Gloucestershire. Enter SHALLOW and SILENCE meeting; MoULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULL-CALF, and Servants, behind. Shal Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, Sir, give me your hand, Sir: an early stirrer, by the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence? Sil Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow and your fairest daughter, and mine, my god-daughter Ellen? Sil. Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow. Shal. By yea and nay, Sir, I dare say, my cousin William is become a good scholar: He is at Oxford, still, is he not? Sil Indeed, Sir; to my cost. Shal He must then to the inns of court shortly: I was once of Clement's inn; where I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet. Sil. You were called-lusty Shallow, then, cousin. Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing, indeed, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotswold man,--you had not four such swinge bucklerst in all the inns of court again: and I may say to you, we knew where the bona robast were; and had the best of them all a commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy; and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk. Sil. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers? Shal. The same Sir John, the very same. I. saw him break Skogan's head at the court gate, when he was a crack, not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiter, behind Gray's inn. O the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead! Sil. We shall all follow, cousin. Shal. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? Sil Truly, cousin, I was not there. Shal.-Death is certain.-Is old Double of your town living yet? Sil. Dead Sir. Shal. Dead-See, see-he drew a good bow! And dead!-he shot a fine shoot:John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! he would have clapped i'the clout at twelve score ; and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see.- -How a score of ewes now? Sil. Thereafter as they be a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds. Shal. And is old Double dead! Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated, than with a wile. Shal. It is well said, in faith, Sir; and it is well said indeed too. Better accommodated! -it is good; yea, indeed, it is: goo phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable Accommodated!-it comes from accommodo : very good; a good phrase. Bard. Pardon me, Sir; I have heard the word. Phrase, call you! By this good day, I know not the phrase: but I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodate : That is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated: or when a ma is,-being, whereby, he may be thought to be accomodated; which is an excellent thing. Enter FALSTAFF. Shal It is very just:-Look, here comes good Sir John.-Give me your hand, give me your worship s good hand: By my troth, you look well, and bear your years very well: welcome, good Sir John. Fal. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow-Master Sure-card, as I think. hal. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me Fal. Good master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace. Sil. Your good worship is welcome. Fal. Fie! this is hot weather.-Gentlemen, have you provided me here half a dozen suf ficent men? Shal. Marry, have we, Sir. Will you sit? Fal. Let me see then., I beseech you. Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll! Let me sce, let me see. So so, so, so: Yea, marry, Sir:-Ral h Mouldy: -let tem appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so.Let me see; Where is Mouldy? Moul. Here, an't ple se you. Shal. What think you, Sir John? a good limbed fellow: young, strong, and of good friends. ba Is thy name Mouldy? Moul. Here, an't please you. Fal. Tis the more time thou wert used. Shal. Ha, ha, ha most excellent, i'faith! things, that are mouldy, lack use: Very singular good!-In faith, well said, Sir John; very well said. Fat Prick him. Know you where you are?-For the other, Fol. Ay marry, let me have him to sit un- Shad Here. Sir. Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou? Fot. Thy mother's son! like enough; and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: It is often so, indeed; but not much of the father's substance. Sal. Do you like him, Sir John? Fat. Shadow will serve for summer,-prick him; for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book. Shal Thomas Wart! Fal. Is thy name Wart? Fal Thou art a very ragged wart. h Ha, ha, ha!--you can do it, Sir; your can do it: I commend you well.-Francis Feeble! Fie. Pere, Sir. Fal What trade art thou, Feeble' hal. Shall I prick him, Sir? Fal. You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he would have pricked you.-Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battle, as thou hast done in woman's petticoat? Fee. I will do my good will, Sir; you can have no more. al. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse.-Prick the woman's tailor well, master Shallow. Fee I would, Wart might have gone, Sir. Fal. I would, thou wert a man's tailor; that thou might' t mend him, and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands: Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble. Fe. It shall suffice, ir; Fal. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Shal leter Bull-calf of the green! ul. Yea, marry, et us see Bull-calf. Bul Here, Sir. Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow-Come. prick me Buil-calf till he roar again. Bull. O lord! good my lord captain,- Bull. O lord, Sir! I am a diseased man. Bull A whoreson cold, Sir; a cough, Sir; which I caught with ringing in the king's affairs, upon his coronation day, Sir; [To SHALLOW. Moul. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have let me alone: my o d dame Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a will be undone now, for one to d her hus-gown; we will have away thy cold; and f will take such order, that thy friends shall ring bandry, and her drudgery: you need not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter for thee.-Is here all ? to go out than I. Shal Here is two more called than your number; you must have but four here, Sir;and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner. Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I Shal. Poace, fellow, peace; stand aside; cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, Fal. Co to; peace, Mouldy, you shall go. * Brave. in good troth, master Shallow. Shal. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in St. George's fields. Fal. No more of that, good master Shallow, no more of that. Shal. Ha, it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive? Fal. She lives, master Shallow. Shal. She never could away with me. Fal. Never, never: she would always say, she could not abide master Shallow. Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well? Fal. Old, old master Shallow. Shal. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old; certain, she's old; and had Robin Night-work by old Night-work, before I came to Clement's-inn. Sil. That's fifty-five years ago. Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight, master Shallow. Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith, Sir John, we have; our watchword was, Hem, boys!-Come, let's to dinner; come, let's to dinner :-0, the days that we have seen!-Come, come. -Here's Wart;-you see what a ragged appearance it is: he shall charge you, and discharge you, with the motion of a pewterer's hammer; come off, and on, swifter than he that gibbets-on he brewer's bucket. And this same half-fac'd fellow, Shallow.-give me this man; he presents no mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as great aim level at the edge of a penknife: And, for a retreat,-how swiftly will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off? O, give me the spare men; and spare me the great ones. Put me a calivert into Wart's hand, Bardolph. Bard. Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus. thee. Shal. He is not his craft's-master, he doth (when I lay at Clement's inn,-I was then Sir not do it right. I remember at Mile-end green, Dargonet in Arthur's show,||) there was a little quiver fellow, and 'a would manage you his piece thus: and 'a would about, and about, tah, tah, would 'a say; bounce, would 'a say; and come you in, and come you in, rah, and [Exeunt FALSTAFF, SHALLOW and SILENCE. 'a come :-I shall never see such a fellow. away again would 'a go, and again would Bell. Good master corporate Bardolph,stand Fal. These fellows will do well, master my friend; and here is four Harry ten shillingshallow.-God keep you, master Silence; I in French crowns for you. In very truth, Sir, will not use many words with you:-Fars you I had as lief be hanged, Sir, as go; and yet, well, gentlemen both; I thank you: I must a for mine own part, Sir, I de not care; but, ra- dozen mile to-night.-Bardolph give the solther, because I am unwilling, and, for mine diers coats. own part, have a desire to stay with my friends; else, Sir, I did not care, for mine own part, so much. Bard. Go to; stand aside. Moul. And good master corporal captain, for my old dame's sake, stand my friend: she has nobody to do any thing about her, when I am gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself; you shall have forty, Sir. Bard. Go to; stand aside. Fee. By my troth I care not;-a man can die but once; we owe God a death;-I'll ne'er bear a base mind:-an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince; and, let it go which way it will, be that dies this year, is quiet for the next. Bard. Well said; thou'rt a good fellow. Re-enter FALSTAFF, and Justices. Sal Sir John, heaven bless you, and prosper your affairs, and send us peace! As you return, visi my house; let our old acquaintance the court. be renewed: peradventure, I will with you to Fal. I would you would, master Shallow. Shal. Go to; I have spoke, at a word. Fare you well [Exeunt SHALLOW and SILENCE. l. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen On, Bardolph; lead the men away. E eunt BARDOLPH, ecruits, &c.] As I return.I will fetch off these justices: 1 do see the bottom of justice Shallow. Lord, lord, how subject we old men a e to this vice of lying! This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull-street;¶ and every third word alie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turks tribute. I do remember him at Clement's-inn like a man made after supper of a cheese-pairing when he was naked, he was for a I the world, like a forked ra ish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a nife: he was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight we e invisible: he was the Shal. Come, Sir John, which four will you very Genius of famine ye lecherou as a mon have? Fal. Do you choose for me. ble and Shadow. key, and the whores called him-man drake: he came ever in the rear-ward of the fashion; and sung tho e t nes to the over-scutched huswives that he heard the carman whistle, Fal. Mouldy, and Bull-calf:-For you Moul- and swear-they were his fancies, or his gooddy, stay at home still; you are past service-nights.** And now is this Vice's daggertt beand for your part, Bull-calf,-grow till you come into it; I will none of you. Shal. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong: they are your likeliest men, and I would have you served with the best. Fal. Will you tell me, master Shallow, how to choose a man? Care I for the limb, the thewes, the statue, bulk, and big assemblance of a man? Give me spirit, master Shallow. come a squire; and talks as familiarly of John of Gaunt, as if he had been sworn brother to him, and I'll be sworn he never saw him but once |