1448 1449 Fal. at all the ord❜naries, and only feared his palate should degenerate, not his manners. FALSTAFF RECOVERING B. JONSON EMBOWELLED! if thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me too, tomorrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part, I have saved my life. 'Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how, if he should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit. Therefore I'll make him sure: yea, and I'll swear I killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. W. SHAKESPEARE FALSTAFF-PRINCE HENRY HAL, if thou see me down in the battle, and be stride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship. P. H. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell. Fal. I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all well. P. H. Why, thou owest God a death. Fal. 'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on; how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is that word, 1450 honour? air. A trim reckoning!-Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. Is it insensible then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it:-therefore I'll none of it: honour is a mere scutcheon:-and so ends my catechism. W. SHAKESPEARE + PRINCE HENRY-FALSTAFF-POINTZ fought ye with them all? P. H. WHAT. All I know not what ye call, all; but P. H. P. H. if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of What, four? thou said'st but two, even now. Poin. Ay, ay, he said four. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. H. Seven? why there were but four, even now. W. SHAKESPEARE 1451 COLAX [ATURE has been bountiful we to provide pleasures, and shall we be niggards at plenteous boards? He's a discourteous guest When Nature thought the earth alone too little Did she do this to have us eat with temperance? 1452 she cried not-stop your noses: would she give us to have us deaf? or when she placed us here, all pleasures, and at full, were to make nature a vanity in her works. T. RANDOLPH LUXURY IN DRESS NCE, I do remember, coming from the mercer's, where my purse had spent itself did meet me, and requested my relief; my outside, would have cloathed, and left myself. a habit as becoming: to encrease this new consideration, there came one clad in a garment plain and thrifty, made BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER 1453 THE FOOL'S BEATITUDE VEN in that, note a fooles beatitude: E he is not capable of passion; wanting the power of distinction, he bears an unturned sayle with every winde: blowe east, blowe west, he steers his course alike. I never saw a foole leane; the chub-fac't fop shines sleeke with full cramm'd fat of happinesse, 1454 whil'st studious contemplation sucks the juyce laughes them to scorne, as man doth busie apes, a goode poore foole, I should want sense to feele TIMON OF ATHENS TIMON-APEMANTUS ET thee gone.— Tim. That the whole life of Athens were in this! thus would I eat it. Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast. [eating a root Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; if not, I would it were. Apem. What would'st thou have to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. Apem. Here is no use for gold. Tim. The best, and.truest: for here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. Apem. Where ly'st o'nights, Timon? Tim. Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus? Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it. Tim. 'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind! Apem. Where would'st thou send it? Tim. To sauce thy dishes.. Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they mocked thee for 1455 too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. SORDIDO W. SHAKESPEARE 'LL instantly set all my hinds to thrashing I'LL of a whole reek of corn, which I will hide that done, I'll have them empty all my garners, my house and I can feed on peas and barley; B. JONSON 1456 WHAT SORDIDO'S REPENTANCE WHAT curses breathe these men! how have my made my looks differ from another man's, for my foul errors past, and twenty fold restore to all men, what with wrong I robbed them: my barns and garners shall stand open still to all the poor that come, and my best grain be made alms-bread, to feed half-famished mouths. |