Bard. Tell thou the earl, Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Bard. Here comes the earl. North. What news, lord Bardolph? every mi nute now Should be the father of some stratagem :* Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good as heart can wish :- North. How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? A gentleman well bred, and of good name, On Tuesday last to listen after news. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; Enter TRAVERS. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you? Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd, North. Ha!-Again. Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ;- North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title leaf, Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? North. How doth my son, and brother? burn'd: This thou would'st say,-Your son did thus, and Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas ; Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet: North. Why, he is dead. See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! ton; Tell thou thy earl his divination lies; Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's I see a strange confession in thine eye : Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. To Harry Monmouth: whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, From whence with life he never more sprung up. North. Why should the gentleman, that rode Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,) Being bruited once, took fire and heat away * Hilderling, base, cowardly. † An attestation of its ravage. Return of blows. In few words. || Reported From the best temper'd courage in his troops: cester Too soon ta'en prisoner: and that furious Scot, Would lift him where most trade of danger Yet did you say,-Go forth; and none of this, Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss, I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,- that the king hath won; and hath sent out mourn. In poison there is physic; and these news, Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die! Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er The action of their bodies from their souls; This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, This present grief hath wip'd it from my mind. Never so few, and never yet more need. [Exeunt. 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. Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, mau, 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 men. 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 judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in Fal. 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. my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any manned with an agate* till now: but I will set side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, on the worst side, were it worse than the name and send you back again to your master, for a of rebellion can tell how to make it. jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, Allen. You mistake me, Sir. 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, it is 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 will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him.- -What said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak, and slops? Alten. 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. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me: if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged: You hunt-counter,* hence! avaunt! Page. He said, Sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. Let him be damned like a glutton! may Fal. My good lord!-God give your lordship his tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel! good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentle- abroad: I heard say, your lordship was sick : I man in hand, and then stand upon security!-hope, your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorought with them in honest taking up, then they must stand uponsecurity. 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. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.‡ Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, and an AT TENDANT. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that com- 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 reverend 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 :-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 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, Ch. Just. He that was in question for the rob-an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, bery? the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. 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. 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, Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? do not the rebels need A little figure cut in an agate. In their debt. 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 scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself. a 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 Alluding to an old proverb: Who goes to Westminster in great infamy. for a wife, to St. Paul's for a man, and to Smithfield for a horse, may meet with a whore, a knave, and a jade. *A catch-pole, or bum-bailiff. Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. and Prince Harry: I hear, you are going with lord John of Lancaster, against the archbishop, and the earl of Northumberland. Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my it. But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady means were greater, and my waist slenderer. peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince.day! for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinathe fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.rily: if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-but my bottle, I would I might never spit white 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? 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 always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you 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 Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad as to smell a fox. enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the bet-death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing ter part burnt out. with perpetual motion. Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf. Fal. A wassel* 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. Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill angelt 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 tell : Virtue is of so little regard in these coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bearherd: 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 scroll 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 hollaing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgement 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, 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 severed you : 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; you are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. [Exeunt CHIEF JUSTICE and ATTENDANT. 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 lechery: but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees preventt my curses.-Boy! Page. Sir? 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 PAGE.] A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is 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 Palace. Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HAST- known our means; Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file To five and twenty thousand men of choice; And our supplies live largely in the hope Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns With an incensed fire of injuries. * A large wooden hammer so heavy as to require three men to wield it. † Anticipate. Profit. Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth thus: Whether our present five and twenty thousand May hold up head without Northumberland. Hast. With him, we may. Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point: But if without him we be thought too feeble, My judgement is, we should not step too far Till we had his assistance by the hand: For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this, Conjecture, expectation, and surmise Of aids uncertain, should not be admitted. Arch. "Tis very true, lord Bardolph; for, indeed, It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. Bard. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply, Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope. [work, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; Gives o'er, and leaves his part created cost Should be still-born, and that we now pos- [sess'd I think, we are a body strong enough, thousand? Hast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French andl Welsh Baying him at the heels: never fear that. Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither? For his divisions, as the times do brawl,[French, Hast. The duke of Lancaster, and West- And publish the occasion of our arms. Arch. That he should draw his several And come against us in full puissance, [be? Before he was what thou would'st have him thou common dog, didst thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; 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 liv'd, would have him die, Are now become enamour'd on his grave: Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head, When through proud London he came sighing After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, [an Cry'st now, O earth, yield us that king again, And take thou this! O thoughts of men accurst! Past, and to come, seem best; things present, Host. Yea, good master Snare; I have entered him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. Host. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most chief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will beastly: in good faith, a' cares not what misfoing like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice ;||- |