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hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be Ch.Just. You follow the young prince up and down, hanged. You hunt-counter, hence ! avåunt!
like his ill angel. Aiten. Sir, my lord would speak with you.
Fal. Not so, my lord! your ill angel is light; but, I Ch.Just. Sir John Falstafl, a word with you! hope, he, that looks upon me, will take me without Fal. My good lord! God give your lordship good weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot time of day! lam glad to see your lordship abroad: 1 go, I cannot tell: virtue is of so little regard in these heard say, your lordship was sick. S hope, your lord-coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bearship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not herd. Pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gists
, you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, of your health.
consider not the capacities of us, that are young: you C. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedi- measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of tion to Shrewsbury.
your galls : and we, that are in the vaward of our Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is youth, I must confess, are wags too. returned with some discomfort from Wales.
Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty - You would not youth, that are written down old with all the characcome when I sent for you.
ters of age ? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an into this same whoreson apoplexy.
increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, let me short? your chin double? your wit single? and every speak with you!
part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, yet call yourself young? Fye, fye, fye, sir John! an'l please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in blood, a whoreson tingling.
the afternoon, with a white head, and something a Ch.Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is. round belly. For my voice, -- I have lost it with holFal. It hath its original from much grief, from study, laing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause further, I will
not: the truth is, I am only old in judgof his effects in Galen'; it is a kind of deafness. ment and understanding; and he, that will caper with
Ch.Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money,
and have at him! For the box o'the ear that the prince Fal. Very well, my lord, very well! rather, an't gave you, -- he gave it like a rude prince, and you took please you, it is the disease of not listeniog, the mala- it like a sensible lord. I have checked him forit, and dy ofnot marking, that I am troubled withal.
repents: marry, not in ashes and sackCh. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend cloth, but in new silk and old sack. the attention of your ears; and I care not, if I do be- Ch. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better comcome your physician.
Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters berland.
Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, sir John, you live in great I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to
sweat extraordinarily : if it be a hot day, an I brandish Fal. He, that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit less.
white again. There is not a dangerous action, can peep Ch. Just. Your means are very sleuder,and your waste out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot is great:'
last ever : but it was always yet the trick of our English Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too comwere greater, and my waist slenderer.
mon. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. give me rest. I would to God, my name were not so Fal. The young prince háth misled me: I am the terrible to the enemy, as it is. I were better to be eaten fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.
to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with Ch.Just.Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound; perpetual motion. your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest! And God bless over your night's exploit on Gads-hill: you may thank your expedition ! the unquiet time for your quiet o'erposting that Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, action.
to furnish me forth? Fal, My lord!
Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny! you are too imCh. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a patient to bear crosses. Fare you well! Commend me sleeping wolf!
to my cousin Westmoreland! Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad, as to smell a fox.
(Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant. Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle!-A burnt out.
man can no more separate age and covetousness, than Fal. A wassel candle, my lord ; all tallow: if I did he can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face, but both the degrees prevent my curses. — Boy!should have lis effect of gravity.
Fal. What money is in my parse?
Page. Seven groats and two-pence.
Consent upon a sure foundation; Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption of Question surveyors; know our own estate, the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it oat, How able such a work to undergo, but the disease is incurable. — Go bear this letter to To weigh against his opposite; or else, my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the We fortify in paper, and in figures, earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, Using the names of men, instead of men: whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived Like one, that draws the model of a house the first white hair on my chin. About it; you know Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, where to find me. (Exit Page.] A por of this gout! Gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost or a gout of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays A naked subject to the weeping clouds, the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth,) shall seem the more reasonable: a good wit will make Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. Theutmost man of expectation;
[Exit. I think, we are a body strong enough,
Bard. What! is the king but five and twenty thou-
Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bar-
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
Are in three heads: one power agajost the French,
And one against Glendower; perforce, a third
Must take up us: so is the unfirm king
With hollow poverty and emptiness.
And come against us in full puissance,
Hast. If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm’d, the French and Welsh
Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither?
Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth :
I have no certain notice.
Arch. Let us on;
And publish the occasion of our arms.
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,
And being now trimmed in thine own desires,
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
And now thou would'st eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard lir'd, would have him die,
Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Cry'st now, O earth, yield us that king again,
А ст ІІ.
SCENEI.-- London. A street.
Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action?
Fang. It is entered.
Host. bles: taises Pal.
Host. Where is your yeoman? Is it a lasty yeoman?, Ch. Just. For what sum? will a' stand to't?
Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare?
all, all I have: he hath eaten me out of house and Host. O lord, ay: good master Snare.
home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly Snare. Here, here.
of his: – but I will have some of it out again, or I'll Fang. Snare, we must arrest sir John Falstaff. ride thee o'nights, like the mare. Host. Yea, good master Snare; I have entered him Fal. I think, I am as like to ride the mare, if I have and all.
any vantage of ground to get up. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for Ch. Just. How comes this, sir John? Fye! what man he will stab.
of good temper would endure this tempest of exclaHost. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed mation? Are you not ashamed, to enforce a poor widow mein mine own house, and that most beastly: in good to so rough a course to come by her own? faith, a' cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? beout: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself, man, woman, nor child.
and thy money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, thrust.
at the round table, by a seacoal fire, upon WednesHost. No, nor Ineither: I'll be at your elbow. day in Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' come but within head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windmy vice;
sor; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing Host. Jam undone by his going; I warrant you, he's thy woud, to marry me, and make me my lady, thy an infinitive thing upon my score: good master wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, Fang, hold him sure; – good master Snare, let him the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip not "scape. He comes continuantly to Pie-corner, Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; tel(saving your manhoods,) to buy a saddle; and he's in- ling us, she had a good dish of prawns ; whereby dited to dinner to the lubbar's head in Lumbert-street, thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee
, to master Smooth's the silkman:I pray ye, since my they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred more so familiarity with such poor people; saying, mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to bear: and that ere long they should call me madam? And didst I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch thee thirty shilfubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this lings? I put thee now to thy book-oath; deny it, if day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. thou canst. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says, should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every up and down the town, that her eldest son is like knave's wrong
you : she hath been in good case, and, the truth is, Enter Sir Joan Falstaff, Page, and BARDOLPH. poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish offiYonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose cers, I beseech you, I may have redress against them,
I knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your Ch. Just. Sir John, sir John, I am well acquainted offices, master Fang, and master Snare; do me, do me, with your manner of wrenching the true cause the do me your offices.
false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng Fal. How now? whose mare's dead? what's the of words, that come with such more than impudent matter?
sauciness from you, can tlírust me from a level conFang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of mistress sideration; you have, as it appears to me, practised Quickly.
upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made
Host. Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in Ch. Just. Pr’ythee, peace! - Pay her the debt you
out reply. You call honourable boldness, impudent Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph!
sauciness: if a man will make court’sy, and say noFang. A rescue! a rescue!
thing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble duty Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou remembered, I will not be your suitor; I say to you, wo’t, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou ? do, do, thou i do desire deliverance from these oflicers, being upon rogue! do, thou hemp-seed !
hasty employment in the king's affairs.
but answer in the effect of your reputation, and sa-
Enter GOWER. stand to me!
Ch. Just. Now, master Gower, what news? Ch. Just. How now, sir John? what, are you brawl Gow. The king, my lord, and Harry prince of Wales ing here?
Are near at hand: the rest the paper
tells. Doth this become your place, your time, and business?) ral. As I am a gentle:nan; You should have been well on your way to York.- Host. Nay, you said so before, Stand from him, fellow! Wherefore hang'st thou ou Fa!. As I am a gentleman ; – come, no more trords him?
of it. Host. O my most worshipfal lord, an't please your Host. By this heavenly ground I treadon,! must be grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap,and he is arrest- fain to pawn both my plate, and the tapestry of my ed at my suit.
Ch. Fal Ch. Gor Fa! my Ch GO Are Ag
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[Taking her aside.
my lord ?
Fal. Classes, glasses, is the only drinking: and for use?—but that, the tennis-court keeper knows better
Poins. How illit follows, after you have laboured so Ilost. Pray thee, sir John, let it be but twenty no-hard, you should talk so idly? Tell me,how many good bles; i'faith I am loath to pawn my plate, in good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick earnest, la.
as yours at this time is?
Poins. Yes ; and let it be an excellent good thing.
Poins. Go to ; I stand the push of your one thing
P. Hen. Why, I tell thee, - it is not meet, that I Host. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at should be sad, now iny father is sick: albeit I could supper?
tell to thee, (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a Fal. No more words: let's have her.
better, to call my friend,) I could be sad, and sad (Exeunt Hostess, Bardolph, Officers, 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 Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night? and persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell Gow. At Basingstoke, my lord.
thee,-my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is so Fa!. I hope, my lord, all's well. What's the news, sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath
in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. Ch. Just. Come all his forces back?
Poins. The reason?
way better than thine: every man would think me Ch. Just. What's the matter?
an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most Ful. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to worshipful thought, to think so? dinner?
Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank so much engraffed to Falstaff. you, good Sir John.
P. Hen. And to thee. Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go. it with my own ears: the worst that they can say of Fal. Will you sup with me, master Gower ? me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these man- proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I ners, sir John ?
confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes BarFal. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was dolph. a fool that taught them me.-- This is the right fencing P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. him from me christian ; and look, if the fat villain Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a have not transformed him ape. great fool.
Enter BARDOLPH and Page.
P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph!
Bard. Come, yon virtuous ass, [To the Page.) you Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought, weariness bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush durst not have attached one of so high blood. you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you be
P. Hen. 'Faith, it does me; though it discolours the come? Is it such a matter,to get a pottle-pot's maiden-
P. Hen. Belike then, my appetite was not princely thought, he had made two holes in the ale-wife's
Lars Then To me First
Fain Dat m
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P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation.--| Bard. I have no tongue, sir.
[Gives him money. Page. And for mine, sir, -- I will govern it.
Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between
Saint Alban's and London.
Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's co-to-night in histrue colours, and not ourselves be scen ?
Poins. Put on two leather jerkins, and aprons, and Poins. Deliver'd with good respect. And how doth wait upon him at his table as drawers. the martlemas, your master?
P. Hlen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension ! Bard. In bodily health, sir.
it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician: low transformation! that shall be mine; for, in every but that moves not him; though that be sick, it dies thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Fol
Enter Northu NEERLAND, Lady NonTHUMBERLAND, and Poins. (Reads.] John Falstaff, knight,-Every man
Lady PERCY. must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name North. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, himself. Even like those, that are kin to the king; Give even way into my rough affairs : for they never prick their finger, but they say, There Put not you on the visage of the times, is some of the king's blood spilt: How comes that? And be, like them, to Percy troublesome. says he, that takes upon him not to conceive: the Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more: answer is as ready as a borrower's cap; I am the Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. king's poor cousi, sir.
North. Alas, sweet wise, my honour is at pawo; P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. fetch it from Japhet. But the letter:
Lady P. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! Poios. Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the Thetime was, father, that you broke your word, king, nearest his father, Hurry prince of Wales, When you were more endeard to it than now; greeting. - Why, this is a certificate.
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, P. Hen. Peace!
Threw many a northward look, to see his father
Did all the chivalry of England move
as to say, as thou usest him,) Jack Fal- Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
Became the accents of the valiant;
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
In military rules, humours of blood,
That fashion’d others. And 'him, wondrous him!
To look upon the hideous god of war Bard. Yes, my lord.
In disadvantage, to abide a field, P. Hen. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name the old frank?
Did seem defensible :
--so you left him: Bard. At the old place, my lord; in Eastcheap. Never, O vever, do his ghost the wrong, P. Hen. What company?
To hold your honour more precise and nice Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church. With others, than with him; let them alone; P. Hen. Sup any women with him?
The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong; Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and Had my sweet Harry had bat half their numbers
, mistress Doll Tear-sheet.
To-day might I, hanging on flotspur's neck, P. Hen. What pagan may that be?
of Monmouth's grave. Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswo- North. Beshrew your heart, man of my master's.
Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from me, P. Hen. Even such kin, as the parish heifers are with new lamenting ancient oversights. to the town bull.— Shall we steal upon them, Ned, But I must go, aud meet with danger there; at supper?
Or it will seek me in another place, Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. And find me worse provided. P. Hen, Sirrah, you boy,—and Bardolph ;--noword Lady N. O, fly to Scotland, to your master, that I am yet come to town. There's | Till that the nobles, and the armed commons, for your silence,
Have of their puissance made a little taste.