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with an agate till now; but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send yo back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about the satin for my short cloak and my 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! pray God 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 a' should have sent me twoand-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.
Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he 'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. 60
Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Servant. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph.
Fal. Wait close; I will not see him. Ch. Just. What's he that goes there? Serv. Falstaff, an 't please your lordship. Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery?
Serv. 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. Serv. Sir John Falstaff!
Serv. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Fal-taff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad; I heard say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the 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. An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales.
Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty. 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, God mend him! I pray you, 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 perturbation 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.
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.
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 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.
Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.
F. I would it were otherwise: I would my means were greater and my waist slenderer. 159 Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed 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!
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.
F. A wassail candle, my lord; all tallow 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.
John of Lancaster against the archbishop and the Earl of Northumberland.
Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily : if it be a hot day, and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever. But it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be eaten to death with rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your expedition!
Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth?
Ch. Just. Not a penny; not a penny; yon are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my cousin Westmoreland.
Excunt Chief Justice and Servant, Fal. If I do, filiip me with a three-man beetle. man can no more separate age and covetousness than a' can part young limbs and lechery; but the gont galls the one, and the pox pinches the other, and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!
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, IA grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these costermonger times that true valour is turned 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 do 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.
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 hollaing 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 you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it, and the young lion repents; marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
Ch. Just. Well, God send the prince a better companion!
Fal. God send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him.
h. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord
Fal. What money is in my purse?
Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. About it: you know where to find me. Exit Pare. *
A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. Exit.
SCENE III.-York. A Room in the Archbishop's
Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the Lords HAST-
And, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms:
Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file
And our supplies live largely in the hope
L. Bard. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:
Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand
Eating the air on promise of supply,
Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men: Like one that draws the model of a house
Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
I think we are a body strong enough,
L. Bard. What is the king but five-andtwenty thousand?
And publish the occasion of our arms.
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die,
Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers and set on?
Ilast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. Exeunt. 110
Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
And one against Glendower; perforce a third
Suare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.
Quick. Alas the day! take heed of him: he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly. In good faith, he cares not what mischief he doth if his weapon be out: he will foin
like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, | is for all, all I have. He hath eaten me out of nor child.
Fang. If I can close with him I care not for his thrust.
Quick. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,—
Quick. I am undone with his going; I warrant you, he's an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not 'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner-saving your manhoods-to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the Lubber's head in Lumbert street, to Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and Master Snare: do me, do me, do me your offices.
Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH.
Fal. How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter?
Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. 50 Fal. Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel.
Quick. Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah! thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the king's? Ah! thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. 60
Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. Fang. A rescue! a rescue! Quick. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo 't thou thou wo 't, wo 't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed !
Fal. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.
Enter the Lord Chief Justice, attended.
Ch. Just. What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho!
Quick. Good my lord, be good to me! I be seech you, stand to me!
Ch. Just. How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here?
Doth this become your place, your time and
You should have been well on your way to York. Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him?
Quick. O my most worshipful lord, an 't please your grace, I am a poor widow of East cheap, and he is arrested at my suit.
Ch. Just. For what sum?
Quick. It is more than for some, my lord; it
house 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 will 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 ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by her own?
Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Quick. 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 Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a seacoal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-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 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 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 long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee
thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy bookoath deny it if thou canst.
Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up and down the town that her eldest son is like 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 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 than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration; you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person.
Quick. Yea, in troth, my lord.
Ch. Just. Prithee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the villany you have done with 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 sauciness: if a man will make court'sy and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord. my humble duty remembered, 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 reputation, and satisfy the poor woman. Fal. Come hither, hostess.
Ch. Just. Now, Master Gower! what news!
Quick. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.
Fal. 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. be ten pound if thou canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me. Dost not know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.
Quick. Prithee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la ! Fal. Let it alone; you'll be a fool still. Quick. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together?
170 I'll make other shift:
Fal. Will I live? To BARDOLPH. Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. Quick. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? Fal. No more words; let's have her. Exeunt Mistress QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers, and Page. Ch. Just. I have heard better news. Fal. What's the news, my good lord? Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night? Gon. At Basingstoke, my lord. Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord?
Ch. Just. Come all his forces back?
Gour. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,
Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster, Against Northumberland and the archbishop. 190 Fal. Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord?
Fal. My lord!
Ch. Just. What's the matter?
Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently. Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?
Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, good Sir John. 201 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?
Ful. 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.-The Same. Another Street.
Prince. Before God, I am exceeding weary. Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought weariness durst not have attached one of so high blood.
Prince. Faith, it does me, though it discolours the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me to desire small beer?
Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to remember so weak a composition. Prince. Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, by my troth, I do now remember 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 remember thy name, or to know thy face to-morrow! or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. these, and those that were thy peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy shirts; as, one for superfluity, and one other for use! But that the tennis-court-keeper 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, because the rest of thy lowcountries 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 increases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened.
Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured 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?
Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good thing.
Prince. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.
Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.
Prince. Marry, 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, and sad indeed too.
Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject. Prince. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil's book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the end try the man. 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.
Poins. The reason?
Prince. What would'st thou think of me if I should weep?
Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
Prince. 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 roadway better than thine: every man would think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to think so?