The Works of William Shakespeare, Complete

Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
As we will ours: and here, between the armies
Let's drink together friendly, and embrace;
That all their eyes may bear those tokens home,
Of our restored love, and amity.

Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses.

P. John. I give it you, and will maintain my word;

And thereupon I drink unto your grace. Hast. Go, captain, [To an Officer.] and deliver to the army

This news of peace; let them have pay, and part: I know it will well please them; Hie thee, captain. [Exit Officer. Arch. To you, my noble lord of Westmoreland. West. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew what pains

I have bestow'd, to breed this present peace,
You would drink freely: but my love to you
Shall show itself more openly hereafter.

I am glad of it:

Arch. I do not doubt you. West. Health to my lord, and gentle cousin, Mowbray. Mowb. You wish me health in very happy sea

son;

For I am, on the sudden, something ill.

Arch. Against ill chances, men are ever merry; But heaviness foreruns the good event.

West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden

sorrow

Serves to say thus,-some good thing comes to

morrow.

truc.

Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be [Shouts within. P. John. The word of peace is render'd; Hark, how they shout!

Mowb. This had been cheerful after victory. Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest; For then both parties nobly are subdued, And neither party loser.

P. John. Go, my lord, And let our army be discharged too.Exit WESTMORELAND. And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains March by us; that we may peruse the men We should have cop'd withal Arch. Go, good lord Hastings, And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by. [Ecit HASTINGS. P. John. I trust, my lord, we shall lie to-night together.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.
Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
West. The leaders, having charge from you to
stand,

Will not go off until they hear you speak.
P. John. They know their duties.

East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,
Each hurries towards his home, and sporting-place.
West. Good tidings, my lord Hastings; for the
which

I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason:-
And you, lord archbishop,-and you, lord Mowbray,
Of capital treason I attach you both.

Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honorable?
West. Is your assembly so?

P. John.

Arch. Will you thus break your faith? I pawn'd thee none: I promis'd you redress of these same grievances, Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honor, I will perform with a most Christian care. But, for you, rebels,-look to taste the due Meet for rebellion, and such acts as yours. Most shallowly did you these arms commence, Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray; Heaven, and not we, have safely fought to-day.Some guard these traitors to the block of death, Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath.

Foolishly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Another Part of the Forest. Alarums: Excursions: Enter FALSTAFF and COLE. VILE, meeting.

Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition are you; and of what place, I pray?

Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is-Cole

vile of the dale.

Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a knight is your degree; and your place, the dale: Colevile shall still be your name,-a traitor your degree; and the dungeon your place,-a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.

Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff!

Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are drops of the lovers, and they weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

Cole. I think you are sir John Falstaff: and, in that thought, yield me.

Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine; and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: My womb, my womb, my womb, undoes me.-Here comes our general.

Enter PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster, WESTMORELAND, and others.

P. John. The heat is past, follow no further now;Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.[Exit WESTMORELAND. Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? When every thing is ended, then you come: These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, One time or other break some gallows' back.

Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus; I never knew yet, but rebuke and check was the reward of valor. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought! I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility: I have foundered nine-score and odd posts; and here, travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate valor, taken sir John Colevile of the dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy: But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, I came, saw, and overcame.

P. John. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

Fal. I know not; here he is, and here I yield him: and I beseech your grace let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top of it, Colevile kissing my foot: To the which course, if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt two-pences to me; and I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershining you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which shew like pins' heads to her; believe not the word of the noble: Therefore let me have right, and let desert

mount.

P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount.
Fal. Let it shine then.

P. John. Thine's too thick to shine. do me good, and call it what you will. Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may

P. John. Is thy name Colevile? Cole. It is, my lord. P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. Fal. And a famous true subject took him. Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are, That led me hither: had they been ruled by me, You should have won them dearer than you have. Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: but thank thee for thee. thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away; and I

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

P. John. Now, have you left pursuit?

West. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd. P. John. Send Colevile, with his confederates, To York, to present execution:

Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure. [Exeunt some with COLEVILE. And now despatch we toward the court, my lords I hear, the king my father is sore sick:

Julius Cæsar.

Our news shall go before us to his majesty,-
Which, cousin, you shall bear,-to comfort him;
And we with sober speed will follow you.

Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go
through Glostershire; and, when you come to court,
stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.
P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my con-
dition,

Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [Exit. Fal. I would, you had but the wit: 'twere better than your dukedom.-Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh;-but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's never any of these demure boys come to any proof: for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fishmeals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards; which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vapors which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; which delivered o'er to the voice, (the tongue,) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is,-the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice: but the sherris warms it, and makes it course from the inward to the parts extreme. It illumineth the face; which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners, and inland petty spirits, muster me all to their captain, the heart; who, great, and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage: and this valor comes of sherris: So that skill in the weapon is nothing, without sack; for that sets it a-work: and learning, a mere hoard of gold, kept by a devil; till sack commences it,8 and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it, that prince Harry is valiant: for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent endeavor of drinking | good, and good store of fertile sherris; that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be,-to forswear thin potations, and addict themselves to sack.

Enter BARDOLPH.

How now, Bardolph?

Bard. The army is discharged all, and gone. Fal. Let them go. I'll through Glostershire; and there will I visit master Robert Shallow, esquire; I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him." Come away. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Westminster. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY, WARWICK, and others.

K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven doth give

ful end

Cla. What would my lord and father?

K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of
Clarence.

How chance, thou art not with the prince, thy
brother?

He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas;
Thou hast a better place in his affection,
Than all thy brothers; cherish it, my boy;
And noble offices thou mayst effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,
Between his greatness and thy other brethren :-
Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love:
Nor lose the good advantage of his grace,
By seeming cold, or careless of his will,
For he is gracious, if he be observ'd;a
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity:
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth:
But, being moody, give him line and scope;
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working. Learn this,
Thomas,
And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends;
A hoop of gold, to bind thy brothers in;
That the united vessel of their blood,
Mingled with venom of suggestion,
(As, force perforce, the age will pour it in,)
Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
As aconitum,3 or rash gunpowder.

Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love.
K. Hien. Why art thou not at Windsor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.
K. Hen. And how accompanied canst thou tell
that?

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual fol-
lowers.

K. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
And he, the noble image of my youth,
Is overspread with them: Therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death;
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape,
In forms imaginary, the unguided days,
And rotten times, that you shall look upon
When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
0, with what wings shall his affections fly
When means and lavish manners meet together,
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him
quite:

The prince but studies his companions,
Like a strange tongue: wherein, to gain the language,
'Tis needful that the most immodest word
Be look'd upon, and learned: which once attain'd,
Your highness knows, comes to no further use,
success-But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,
The prince will, in the perfectness of time,
Cast off his followers: and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live,

To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
Our navy is address'd,' our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And every thing lies level to our wish:
Only, we want a little personal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels now afoot,
Come underneath the yoke of government.

War. Both which we doubt not but your majesty
Shall soon enjoy.

K. Hen.

Humphrey, my son of Gloster
Where is the prince your brother?"
P. Humph. I think he's gone to hunt, my lord at
Windsor.

K. Hen. And how accompanied?
P. Humph.
I do not know, my lord.
K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence,

with him?

In my present temper.

Brings it into action.

7 Inventive.

An allusion to the old use of sealing with soft wax. 1 Ready, prepared.

By which his grace must mete the lives of others;
Turning past evils to advantages.

K. Hen. 'Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave
her comb

In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Westmoreland?

K. Hen. O Westmoreland, thou art a summerbird,

Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
The lifting up of day. Look! here's more news.
Enter HARCourt.

Har. From enemies heaven keep your majesty;
And when they stand against you, may they fall
As those that I am come to tell you of!
The earl Northumberland, and the lord Bardolph,
With a great power of English, and of Scots,
Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown:
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.
K. Hen. And wherefore should these good news
make me sick?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach, and no food,-
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach,--such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.
I should rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy:-
O me! come near me, now I am much ill. [Swoons.
P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty!
Cla.
Ó, my royal father!
West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look

up!

War. Be patient, princes; you do know, these fits Are with his highness very ordinary.

Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.
Cla. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs;
The incessant care and labor of his mind
Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in,
So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.
P. Humph. The people fear me; for they do ob-

serve

Unfather'd heirs, and loathly birds of nature;
The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep, and leap'd them

over.

Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between:7

And the old folk, time's doting chronicles,
Say, it did so, a little time before
That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died.
War. Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers.
P. Humph. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.
K. Hen. I pray you, take me up, and bear me
hence

Into some other chamber: softly, 'pray.

[They convey the KING into an inner part of the room, and place him on a bed. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Unless some dull and favorable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

War. Call for the music in the other room.
K. Hen. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Less noise, less noise.

How doth the king?

P. Humph. Exceeding ill.
P. Hen.

Tell it him.

Heard he the good news yet?

P. Humph. He alter'd much upon the hearing it. P. Hen If he be sick

With joy, he will recover without physic.
War. Not so much noise, my lords:-sweet
prince, speak low;

The king your father is dispos'd to sleep.
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.
War. Will't please your grace to go along with us?
P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by the king.
[Exeunt all but P. HENRY.
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night!-sleep with it now!

& Wall.

Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet,
As he, whose brow, with homely biggin' bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armor worn in heat of day,
That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not:
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move.-My gracious lord! my
father!-

This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorced
So many English kings. Thy due, from me,
Is tears, and heavy sorrows of the blood;
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously;
My due, from thee, is this imperial crown;
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits,-

[Putting it on his head. Which heaven shall guard: And put the world's whole strength

Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honor from me: This from thee
Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.
K. Hen. Warwick! Gloster! Clarence!
Re-enter WARWICK, and the rest.

[Exit.

Cla.
Doth the king call?
War. What would your majesty? How fares
your grace?

K. Hen. Why did you leave me here alone, my

lords?

Cla. We left the prince my brother here, my liege, Who undertook to sit and watch by you." K. Hen. The prince of Wales? Where is he? let me see him:

He is not here.

War. This door is open; he is gone this way. P. Humph. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.

K. Hen. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?

War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. K. Hen. The prince hath ta'en it hence:-go, seek him out;

Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose
My sleep my death?
Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither.
[Exit WARWICK.

This part of his conjoins with my disease,
And helps to end me.-See, sons, what things you
are!

How quickly nature falls into revolt,
When gold becomes her object!

For this the foolish over-careful fathers

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care,

Their bones with industry;

For this they have engrossed and piled up
The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts, and martial exercises:
When, like the bee, tollings from every flower
The virtuous sweets;

Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with honey,

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield his engrossments to the ending father.-
Re-enter WARWICK.
Now, where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me?

War. My lord, I found the prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks;
With such a deep demeanor in great sorrow,
That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
K. Hen. But wherefore did he take away the
crown?

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY. Lo, where he comes.-Come hither to me, Harry:Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. [Exeunt CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY, Lords, &c.

Make me afraid.

P. Hen. I never thought to hear you speak again.
K. Hen. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that
thought:

I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair,
That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine honors
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.
Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity
Is held from falling with so weak a wind,
That it will quickly drop: my day is dim.
Thou hast stolen that, which, after some few hours,
Were thine without offence; and, at my death,
Thou hast seal'd up my expectation:"
Thy life did manifest, thou lov'dst me not,
And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts;
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
To stab at half an hour of my life.

What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
Then get thee gone; and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear,
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse,
Be drops of balm, to sanctify thy head:
Only compound me with begotten 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!

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!

Heaven put it in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou might'st win the more thy father's love,
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. Heaven 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 honor snatch'd with boisterous hand;
And I had many living, to upbraid

My gain of it by their assistance;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears,
Thou seest, with peril I have answer'd:
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,

Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence! Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;

And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness!

Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum:
Have you a rufhian, 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, honor, might:
For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth in 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!
P. Hen. O pardon me, my liege! but for my
tears,
[Kneeling.

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 honor, 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!
Heaven 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,
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 the 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:

But thou, most fine, most honor'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,

• Confirmed my opinion.

A term used in describing the fineness of gold..

So thou the garland wear'st successively.

Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could
do,

Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;
And all thy friends, which thou must make thy

friends,

Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;
By whose fell working I was first advanced,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displaced: which to avoid
I cut them off; and had a purpose now
To lead out many to the Holy Land;
Lest rest, and lying still, might make them look
Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
Be it thy course, to busy giddy minds
With foreign quarrels; that action, hence born out,
May waste the memory of the former days.
More would I, but my lungs are wasted so,
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!
P. Hen. 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 PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster, WARWICK, Lords,
and others.

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

P. John. 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?
P. Hen.

My lord of Warwick!
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 had been prophesied to me many years,

I should not die but in Jerusalem;
Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land:-
But, bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie;
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.

[Exeunt.

8 Purchase, in Shakspeare, frequently means stolen goods

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Gloucestershire. A Hall in Shallow's would curry with master Shallow, that no man

House.

Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and Page. Shal. By cock and pye, sir, you shall not away to-night.- What, Davy, I say! Fal. You must excuse me, master Robert Shallow. Shal. I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excused. Why, Davy!

Davy. Here, sir.

Enter DAVY.

Shal. Davy, Davy, Davy,-let me see, Davy; let me see:-yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither.-Sir John, you shall not be excused.

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.

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. He 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. Yes, 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 back-bitten, 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 my honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.

Shal. Go to; I say, he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy. [Exit DAVY.] Where are you, sir John? Come, off with your boots.-Give me your hand, master Bardolph.

Bard. I am glad to see your worship.

Shal. I thank thee with all my heart, kind master Bardolph:-and welcome, my tall fellow. [To the Page.] Come, sir John. [Exit SHALLOW. Ful. I'll follow you, good master Robert Shallow. Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page.] If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermit's staves as master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his: They, by observing him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving man; 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 humor his men with the imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I

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 wearingout of six fashions, (which is four terms, or two actions,) and he 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.

Shal. [Within.] Sir John!

Fal. I come, master Shallow; I come, master Shallow. [Exit FALSTAFF.

SCENE II.-Westminster. A Room in the 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.

And, to our purposes, he lives no more.
He's walk'd the way of nature;
Ch. Just. I would his majesty had called 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 you

not.

To welcome the condition of the time;
Ch. Just. I know he doth not; and do arm myself,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.

Enter PRINCE JOHN, PRINCE HUMPHREY, CLARENCE,
WESTMORELAND, and others.

O, that the living Harry had the temper
War. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry:
Or him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places,
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

Ch. Just. Alas! I fear, all will be overturn'd.
P. John. Good-morrow, cousin Warwick.
P. Humph. Cla. Good-morrow, cousin.
P. John. We meet like men that had forgot to
speak.

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

P. John. Well, peace be with him that hath

made us heavy!

Ch. Just. Peace be with us, least we be heavier! P. Humph. 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.

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

I am the sorrier; 'would 'twere otherwise.
You stand in coldest expectation:
Cla. Well, you must now speak sir John Falstaff
Which swims against your stream of quality.
fair;
Ch. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in

honor,

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 V.

Ch Just. Good-morrow; and heaven save your majesty!

2 A serious face.

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