saltness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverent care of your health. Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. Fal. If it please your lordship, I hear his ma- 5 jesty is return'd 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. Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in 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 pertubation of the brain: I have read the cause of his effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness. Ch. Just. I think you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you. 10 15 20 Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. 25 Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician. Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of 30 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 mat-35 ters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Ful. 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 40 in great infamy. Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste great. Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater, and my waist slenderer. Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad as to smell a fox. Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt out. Fal. A wassel' candle, my lord; all tallow: but if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face, but should have his effect of gravity. Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but, I hope, he that looks upon me, will take me without weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell3: Virtue is of so little regard in these coster-monger times, that true valour is turn'd bear-herd: Pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, consider not the capacities of us that are young; you measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too. Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scrowl of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself 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 lost it with hallowing and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him. For the box o' the ear that the prince gave 45 you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have check'd him for it; and the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes, and sack-cloth; but in new silk, and old sack. Ch. Just. You have mis-led the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath mis-led me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. 50 Ch. Just. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound; your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads-hill: you may thank the unquiet time for your quiet, o'er-posting that action. Fal. My lord? Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf. Ch. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better companion! Fal. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him. Ch. Just. Well, the king hath sever'd you and prince Harry: I hear, you are going with lord 55 John of Lancaster, against the archbishop, and the earl of Northumberland, Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you, pray, all you that kiss my lady 2 1 Dr. Johnson says, he does not understand this joke; that dogs lead the blind, but why does a dog lead the fat? To which Dr. Farmerreplies, " If the Fellow's great Belly prevented him from seeing his way, he would want a dog, as well as a blind man." 2 A rassel candle is a large candle lighted up at a feast. Meaning, I cannot pass current. That is, in these times, when the prevalence of trade has produced that meanness that rates the merit of every thing by money. A coster monger is a costard-monger, a dealer in apples, called by that name, because they are shaped like a costard, i. e. a man's head. Pregnancy is readiness. i. e. old age. peace 5 peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; And heaven bless your expedition! Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth?" [Upon the power and puissance of the king. Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, stand- Whether our present five and twenty thousand Burd. Ay, marry, there's the point; Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny; you are 20 too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. [Exit. Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle'.-A man can no more separate age and covetousness, than he can part young limbs and le-25 chery but the gout gails the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses.-Boy! Page. Sir? Fal. What money is in my purse? 30 Fal. I can get no remedy against this consump- SCENE III. our means; And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; How, in our means, we should advance ourselves Eating the air on promise of supply, Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, 'i. e. May I never have my stomach inflamed again with liquor; to spit white, being the consequence of inward heat. 2 A quibble was probably here intended on the word cross, which meant a coin so called, because stamped with a cross, as well as a disappointment or trouble. A beetle wielded by i. e. anticipate my curses. i. e. profit, self-interest. three men. I think thousand? I think, we are a body strong enough, [together, Hast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh Their over-greedy love hath surfeited :- Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hi- York. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, 25 on? Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be SCENE I. АСТ II. Enter Hostess; Phang, and his boy, with her; and Snare following. action? Host. MASTER Phang, have you enter'd the master Phang, hold him sure;-good master Snare, let him not 'scape. He comes continually to Pye35 corner, (saving your manhoods) to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the lubbar's' head in Lumbart-street, to master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is enter'd, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought Host. Where is your yeoman? Is it a lusty yeo 40 in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long loan man? will a' stand to it? Phang. Sirrah, where's Snare? Host. O Lord, ay; good master Snare. Snare. Here, here. Phang. Snare, we must arrest sir John Falstaff. Host. Ay, good master Snare; I have enter'd him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. for a poor lone woman' to bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fub'd off, and fub'd off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on." There is no 45 honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Host. Alas the day! take heed of him he stabb'd 50 me in mine own house, and that most beastly: he cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Phang. If I can close with him, I care not for 55 his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow. Phang. An I but fist him once; an he come but within my vice' ; Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, and the Page. Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose' knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, master Phang, and master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices. Fal. How now? who's mare's dead? what's the matter? Phang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of mistress Quickly. Ful. Away, varlets!-Draw, Bardolph; cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the kennel. Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, 60 Host. Throw me in the kennel? I'll throw thee he's an infinitive thing upon my score:-Good in the kennel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bas Vice or grasp; a metaphor taken from a smith's vice. head. A lone woman is a desolate unfriended woman. Malmsey wine. ? Perhaps a corruption of the Libbard'sThat is, red nose, from the effect of tardly tardly rogue-Murder, murder! O thou honey- Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two.Thou wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou? do, do, thou rogue! thou hemp-seed! Fal. Away, you scullion! you rampallian2! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. Enter the Chief Justice, attended. Ch. Just. What's the matter? keep the peace here, ho! Host. Good my lord, be good to me! I beseech you, stand to me! Ch. Just. How now, Sir John? what are you brawling here? 5 Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she ays, up and down the town, that her eldest son is uke you: she hath been in good case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish officers, I beseech you, I may have I 10 redress against them. Ch. Just. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such more 15 than impudent sawciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration; I know you have practis'd upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person. Doth this become your place, your time, and bu-20 siness? You should have been well on your way to York.Stand from him, fellow: Wherefore hang'st thou on him? Host. O my most worshipful lord, an' please your 25 grace, I am a poor widow of East-cheap, and he is arrested at my suit. Ch. Just. For what sum? Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have: he hath eaten me out of house 30 and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his:-but I will have some of it out again, or I'll ride thee o'nights, like the mare. Fal. I think, I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any vantage of ground to get up. Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not asham'd to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by her own? Host. Yes, in troth, my lord. Ch. Just. Pr'ythee peace:-Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done her; the one you may do with sterling money, and the other with current repentance. Fal. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You call honourable boldness, impudent sawciness: if a man will make curt'sy, and say nothing, he is virtuous: No, my lord, my humble duty remember'd, I will not be your suitor; I say to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. Ch. Just. You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer in the effect of your reputa35tion', and satisfy the poor woman. Fal. Come hither, hostess. [Taking her aside. Ch. Just. Now, master Gower; What news? Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself, and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphinchamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, on 45 Wednesday in Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing-pestry of my dining-chambers. man of Windsor; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not 50 goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip Quickly coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us, she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some: whereby I told thee, they were ill for a 55 green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying, that ere Host. Nay, you said so before. Fal. As I am a gentleman;-Come, no more words of it. Host. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate, and the ta 3 Ful. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking: and for thy walls,-a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of these bedhangings, and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound if thou canst. Come, if it were not for thy humours, there is not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy action: come, thou must not be in this humour with me; do'st not know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this. 4 'The landlady's corruption of homicidal and homicide. 2 Meaning perhaps, you ramping riotous strumpet, speaking to the hostess. Addressing himself to the oflicer, whose weapon of defence is a cudgel (from fustis, a club), not being entitled to wear a sword. * parcel-gilt goblet is a goblet only gilt over, not of solid gold. A mess seems in those days to have been a common term for a small proportion of any thing belonging to the kitchen. Sneap siguities check. 'That is, in a manner suitable to your character. i. e. in water colours. 5 6 Host. Host. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles; I am loth to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la. Fal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift; you'll be a fool still. Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope, y u'll come to supper: You'll pay me all together? Fal. Will I live?-Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. [To the Officers. Host. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at supper? Fal. No more words; let's have her. [Exeunt Hostess, Bardolph, Officers, &c. Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night? Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well: What's the news, my lord? Ch. Just. Come all his forces back? Gower. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred Are march'd up to my lord of Lancaster, Fal. Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently: Come, go along with me, good master Gower. Fal. My lord! Ch. Just. What's the matter? Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me. to dinner? Gower. I must wait upon my good lord here: thank you, good Sir John. I Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go. Fal. Will you sup with me, master Gower? Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? Fal. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me.-This is the right fencing grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. SCENE II. Continues in London. Enter Prince Henry and Poins. remember thy name? or to know thy face tomorrow? or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. these, and those that were the peach-colour'd ones? or to bear the in5 ventory of thy shirts; as, one for superfluity, and one other for use?-But that, the tennis-courtkeeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee, when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a great while, be10 cause the rest of thy low-countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen, shall inherit his kingdom: but the midwives say, the children are not in the fault; whereupon the world 15 encreases, and kindreds are mightily strengthen'd. 20 25 Poins. How ill it follows, after you have labour'd so hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is? P. Henry. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes; and let it be an excellent good thing. P. Henry. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. Poins. Goto; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell. P. Henry. Why, I tell thee,-it is not meet that I should be sad, now my father is sick albeit I could tell to thee, (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend) I could be sad, 30 and sad indeed too. Poins. Very hardly, upon such a subject. P. Henry. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in the devil's book, as thou, and Falstaff, for obduracy, and presistency: Let the end try the man. 35 But I tell thee,-my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is so sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation' of sorrow. 40 [Exeunt 45 P. Henry. Trust me, I am exceeding weary. Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought, weariness durst not have attach'd one of so high blood P. Henry. 'Faith, it does me; though it disco lours the complexion of my greatness to acknow ledge it. Doth it not shew vilely in me, to desire small-beer? Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied, as to remember so weak a composition. 50 P. Henry. Belike then, my appetite was not princely got; for, in troth, I do now remember 60 the poor creature, small-beer. But, indeed, these humble considerations make me out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace is it to me, to 1i. e. shew. Poins. The reason? P. Henry. What would thou think of me, if I should weep?, Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. P. Henry. It would be every man's thought: and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks: never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine: every man would think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to think so? Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so much engraffed to Falstaff. P. Henry. And to thee. Poins. Nay, by this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear it with my own ears: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, jand that I am a proper 2 fellow of my hands; and those two things, I confess, I cannot help. Look, look, here comes Bardolph. P. Henry. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had him from me christian; and see, if the fat villain have not transform'd him ape. Enter Bardolph, and Page, Bard. 'Save your grace! A tall or proper fellow of his hands was a stout fighting man. Ii P. Henry. |