sons. Persons of the Dr a m a. Travers und Mortox, domestics of NORTHUMBER- LAND. Falstaff, BARDOLPH, Pistol, und Page. Poins and Pero, attendants on prince Henry. his Prince John of Lancaster, afterwards SHALLOW and Silence, Country Justices. Davy, servant to Shallow. MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, Feeble, and BULLCALF, (2 Henry V.) duke of Gloster, recruits. Faxc and Snare, Sheriff's Officers. RUMOUR. A Porter. A Dancer, speaker of the epilogue. Hostess Quickly. Doll TEAR-SHEET. enemies to the king Lord BARDOLPH, Lords and other Attendants; Officers, Soldiers, Messenger, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, etc. Scene, - England. } of the king's parey. now INDUCTION. They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs. (Exit. Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND's castle. Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues. A CT 1. SCENE I. — The same. The Porter before the gate; Enter Lord BardolPH. Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho? Where is the earl? Port. What shall I say you are ? Bard. Tell thou the earl, That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here! Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Bard. Here comes the earl. North. What news, lord Bardolph? every minute Should be the father of some stratagem. Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him. Bard. Noble earl, North. Good, an heaven will! Bard. As good, as heart can wish: And, in the fortune of my lord your son, Killd by the hand of Douglas: young prince John, And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk sir Johu, Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day, So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won, Since Caesar's fortuue's! North. How is this deriv'd ? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; Thatfrecly render'd me these news for true. Ba MO Lean To ste Youc And se yon? 358 [Act I. Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. I see a strange confession in thine eye: Thou shak'st thy head and hold'st it fear, or sin, To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so: And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead; Sounds ever after as a snllen bell, Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to believe, That, which I would to heaven I had not seen: Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreath'd, To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, From whence with life he never more sprung up. In few, his death (whose spirit lent a fire Even to the dollest peasant in his camp,) Being bruited once, took fire and lieat away For from his metal was his party steel'd; Which once in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. And as the thing, that's heavy in itself, Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed, So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim, Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword 'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all A speedy power, to encounter you, my lord, Mor. Iran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord, And Westmoreland : this is the news at full North. For this I shall have time enough to moura. {n poison there is physic; and these news, Having been well, that wonld have made me sick, And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken’d joints, Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, Impatient of his fit, breaks, like a fire, Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs, crutch! Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. Now bind my brows with iron! And approach The ragged’st hour, that time and spite dare bring, To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! Keep the wild food confin'd! let order die! And let this world no longer be a stage, To feed contention in a lingering act; That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton! On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, And darkness be the burier of the dead! Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. As me Seem Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your ho-thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my nour! heels. I was never manned with an agate :ill now: but Mor. The lives of all your loving complices I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er apparel, and send you back again to your master, for To stormy passion, must perforce decay. a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose You cast the event of war, my noble lord, chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard And summ’d the account of chance, before you said, - grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on Let us make head! It was your presurmise, his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is That in the dole of blows your son might drop. a face-royal. God may finish it, when he will, it is not You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, More likely to fall in, than to get o’er. for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and You were advis’d, his flesh was capable yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd. but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What Yet did you say, Go forth; and none of this, said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short and yours; he liked not the security. may his Knew, that we ventur’d on such dangerous seas, tongue be hotter !-Awhoreson Achitophel! a rascally That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one: yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, And yet we ventur’d; for the gain propos'd and then stand upon security! The whoreson Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear’d, smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and And, since we are o'erset, venture again. bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thoCome, we will all put forth, body, and goods. rough with them in honest taking up, then they must Mor. 'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, stand upon-security. I had as lief, they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. The gentle archbishop of York is up, I looked, he should have sent me two and twenty yards With well-appointed powers; he is a man, of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me secuWho with a double surety binds his followers. rity. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the My lord, your son had only but the corps, horn of abundance and the lightness of his wife shines But shadows, and the shows of men, to fight: through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his For that same word, rebellion, did divide own lantern to light him. – Where's Bardolph? The action of their bodies from their souls, Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse. I were manned, horsed, and wived. Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendant. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman, that committed Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, the prince for striking him about Bardolph. Fal. Wait close, I will not see him. Ch. Just. What's he that goes there? Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going And more, and less, do flock to follow him. with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again! This present grief had wip'd it from my mind. Atten. Sir John Falstaff! Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. with him. SCENE II. - London. A street. Atten. Sir John ! Enter Sir Joux Falstaff, with his Page bearing his Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not sword and buckler. wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though water? it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse Page.He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy shame to beg, than to be on the worst side, were it worse water: but, for the party, that owed it, he might (than the name of rebellion can tell, how to make it. have more diseases, than he knew for. Atten. You mistake me, sir ! Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The Fol. Why, sir, did I say, you were an honest man? brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had able to vent any thing, that tends to laughter, more lied in my throat, if I had said so. than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and in myself, but the cause, that wit is in othermen. I do your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you, here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhel- you lie in your throat, if you say, I am any other, than med all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into an honest man. my service for any other reason, than to set me off, why Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that, then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert befter be) Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, Fal. Not so, my lord! your ill angel is light; but, I Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you! hope, he, that looks upon me, will take me without Fal. My good lord! - God give your lordship good weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot time of day? I am glad to see your lordship abroad: 1 go, I cannot tell: virtue is of so little regard in these heard say, your lordship was sick. I hope, your lord-coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bearship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not herd. Preguancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gists, you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, of your health. consider not the capacities of us, that are young: you Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedi- measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of tion to Shrewsbury. your galls : and we, that are in the vaward of our Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is youth, I must confess, are wags too. returned with some discomfort from Wales. Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty You would not youth, that are written down old with all the characcomie when I sent for you. ters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an into this same whoreson apoplexy. increasing belly? Is not your voice broken ? your wind Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, let me short? your chin double? your wit single? and every speak with you! part about you blasted with antiquity ? and will you Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, yet call yourself young? Fye, fye, iye, sir John! an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in blood, a whoreson tingling. the afternoon, with a white head, and something a Ch.Just. What tell you me ofit? be it as it is. round belly. For my voice, - I have lost it with holFal. It hath its original from much grief, from study, laing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judg of his effects in Galen"; it is a kind of deafness. ment and understanding; and he, that will caper with Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, you hear not what I say to you. and have at him! For the box o'the ear that the prince Fal. Very well, my lord, very well! rather, an't gave you, -- he gave it like a rude prince, and you took please you, it is the disease of not listening, the mala- it like a sensible lord. I have checked him forit, and dy of pot marking, that I am troubled withal. the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes and sacka Ch. Just. To pupish you by the heels, would amend cloth, but in new silk and old sack. panion ! Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters berland. Pal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in look you, pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, sir John, you live in great I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to infamny. sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, an I brandish Fal. He, that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit less. white again. There is not a dangerous action, can peep Ch. Just. Your means are very sleuder, and your waste out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever : butit was always yet the trick of our English Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too comwere greater, and my waist slenderer. mon. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should Ch.Just. You have misled the youthful prince. give me rest. I would to God, my name were not so Fal. The young prince háth misled me: I am the terrible to the enemy, as it is. I were better to be eaten fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with Ch.Just.Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound; perpetual motion. your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest! And God bless over your night's exploit on Gads-hill: you may thank your expedition! the unquiet time for your quiet .o'erposting that Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, action. to furnish me forth? Fal. My lord! Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny! you are too imCh. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a patient to bear crosses. Fare you well? Commend me sleeping wolf! to my cousin Westmoreland! Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad, as to smell a fox. {Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant. Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part Fal. If I do, hillip me with a three-man beetle!-A burnt out. man can no more separate age and covetousness, than Fal. A wassel candle, my lord ; all tallow: if I did he can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face, but both the degrees prevent my curses. -- Boy! should have lis effect of gravity. Page Sir? Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Fal. What money is in my purse? Baru Arch Barc Eating liatte Nach is great: Anda Prope Page. Seven groats and two-pence. Consent upon a sure foundation; Ful. I can get no remedy against this consumption of Question surveyors; know our own estate, the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, How able such a work to undergo, but the disease is incurable. — Go bear this letter to To weigh against his opposite; or else, my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the We fortify in paper, and in figures, earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, Using the names of men, instead of men: whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived Like one, that draws the model of a house the first white hair on my chin. About it; you know Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, where to hud me. (Exit Page.] A pos of this gout! Gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost or a gont of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays A naked subject to the weeping clonds, the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth,) shall seem the more reasonable: a good wit will make should be still-born, and that we now possess’d use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. The utmost man of expectation; [Exit. I think, we are a body strong enough, Bard. What! is the king but five and twenty thou- Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bar- For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads: one power against the French, And one against Glendower; perforce, a third Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms ; In three divided ; and his coffers sound With hollow poverty and emptiness. gether, And come against us in full puissance, Hast. If he should do so, Heleaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh Baying him at his heels: never fear that. Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither? Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth Hast. The duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland : thus ; Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth: I have no certain notice. Arch. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: — An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, And being now trimmed in thine own desires, That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge 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 lir'd, would have him die, Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head, When through proud London he came sigling on After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, Cry’st now, 0 earth, yield us that king again, (Exeunt. А ст II. SCENEI.- London. A street. Snare following: Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang. It is entered. etle ther |