Why, he is dead. See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: patient of his fit, breaks like a fire Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs, Weakened with grief, being now enrag'd with grief, Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice crutch; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss, Mor. 'Tis more than time: And, my most noble lord, Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, SCENE II.-London. A Street. Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water: but, for the party that owed it, he might have more diseases than he knew for. men. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.-Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. Atten. Sir John, wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. Ful. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat if I had said so. Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man. Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to vent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate till now; but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: Fal. My good lord !—God give your lordship good God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss I heard say, your lordship was sick: I hope, your lordyet he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber ship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his fa- in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I ther was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care of your health. but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him.What said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak, and slops? Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security!--The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon-security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security: for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph ? Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. a Fal. bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, and an Attendant. Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again. Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf. which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged: You hunt-counter, hence! avaunt! Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. is returned with some discomfort from Wales. Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty :- You would not come when I sent for you. Fal. And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy. Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, let me speak with you. thargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lein the blood, a whoreson tingling. Ch. Just. 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 his effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness. Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't tient : Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so pa: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself. Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, sir John, you live in great infamy. Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. |