[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) Prologue] |
© Internet Shakespeare Editions, last revision 23 January 2000 |
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
INDVCTION.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 1.1]
L.Bar. Who keepes the Gate heere hoa?
Where is the Earle?
Por. What shall I say you are?
That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere.
Por. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the Orchard,
Please it your Honor, knocke but at the Gate,
And he himselfe will answer.
Enter Northumberland.
L.Bar. Heere comes the Earle.
Nor. What newes Lord Bardolfe? Eu'ry minute now
Should be the Father of some Stratagem;
The Times are wilde: Contention (like a Horse
And beares downe all before him.
L.Bar. Noble Earle,
I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury.
Nor. Good, and heauen will.
L.Bar. As good as heart can wish:
The King is almost wounded to the death:
And in the Fortune of my Lord your Sonne,
Prince Harrie slaine out-right: and both the Blunts
Kill'd by the hand of Dowglas. Yong Prince Iohn,
And Harrie Monmouth's Brawne (the Hulke Sir Iohn)
Is prisoner to your Sonne. O, such a Day,
(So fought, so follow'd, and so fairely wonne)
Came not, till now, to dignifie the Times
Since Caesars Fortunes.
Nor. How is this deriu'd?
Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
L.Bar. I spake with one (my L.) that came frő thence,
A Gentleman well bred, and of good name,
Nor. Heere comes my Seruant Trauers, whom I sent
On Tuesday last, to listen after Newes.
Nor. Yea, this mans brow, like to a Title-leafe,
Fore-tels the Nature of a Tragicke Volume:
Hath left a witnest Vsurpation.
Say Morton, did'st thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury (my Noble Lord)
Where hatefull death put on his vgliest Maske
To fright our party.
North. How doth my Sonne, and Brother?
Thou trembl'st; and the whitenesse in thy Cheeke
Is apter then thy Tongue, to tell thy Errand.
Euen such a man, so faint, so spiritlesse,
Drew Priams Curtaine, in the dead of night,
And would haue told him, Halfe his Troy was burn'd.
But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue:
And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it.
This, thou would'st say: Your Sonne did thus, and thus:
Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas,
Stopping my greedy eare, with their bold deeds.
But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed)
Thou hast a Sigh, to blow away this Praise,
Mor. Dowglas is liuing, and your Brother, yet:
But for my Lord, your Sonne.
North. Why, he is dead.
See what a ready tongue Suspition hath:
He that but feares the thing, he would not know,
Hath by Instinct, knowledge from others Eyes,
That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet speake ( Morton)
Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies,
And I will take it, as a sweet Disgrace,
Mor. You are too great, to be (by me) gainsaid:
Your Spirit is too true, your Feares too certaine.
North. Yet for all this, say not that Percies dead.
I see a strange Confession in thine Eye:
Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it Feare, or Sinne,
To speake a truth. If he be slaine, say so:
The Tongue offends not, that reports his death:
And he doth sinne that doth belye the dead:
Not he, which sayes the dead is not aliue:
Hath but a loosing Office: and his Tongue,
Sounds euer after as a sullen Bell
Remembred, knolling a departing Friend.
L.Bar. I cannot thinke (my Lord) your son is dead.
Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to beleeue
That, which I would to heauen, I had not seene.
But these mine eyes, saw him in bloody state,
Rend'ring faint quittance (wearied, and out-breath'd)
To Henrie Monmouth, whose swift wrath beate downe
From whence (with life) he neuer more sprung vp.
In few; his death (whose spirit lent a fire,
Euen to the dullest Peazant in his Campe)
Being bruited once, tooke fire and heate away
From the best temper'd Courage in his Troopes.
For from his Mettle, was his Party steel'd;
Which once, in him abated, all the rest
Turn'd on themselues, like dull and heauy Lead:
And as the Thing, that's heauy in it selfe,
So did our Men, heauy in Hotspurres losse,
Lend to this weight, such lightnesse with their Feare,
That Arrowes fled not swifter toward their ayme,
Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their safety)
Fly from the field. Then was that Noble Worcester
Too soone ta'ne prisoner: and that furious Scot,
(The bloody Dowglas) whose well-labouring sword
Had three times slaine th' appearance of the King,
Gan vaile his stomacke, and did grace the shame
Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The summe of all,
Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath sent out
A speedy power, to encounter you my Lord,
Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancaster
And Westmerland. This is the Newes at full.
North. For this, I shall haue time enough to mourne.
In Poyson, there is Physicke: and this newes
(Hauing beene well) that would haue made me sicke,
Being sicke, haue in some measure, made me well.
Like strengthlesse Hindges, buckle vnder life,
Impatient of his Fit, breakes like a fire
Out of his keepers armes: Euen so, my Limbes
(Weak'ned with greefe) being now inrag'd with greefe,
Are thrice themselues. Hence therefore thou nice crutch,
A scalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele
Must gloue this hand. And hence thou sickly Quoife,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which Princes, flesh'd with Conquest, ayme to hit.
The ragged'st houre, that Time and Spight dare bring
To frowne vpon th' enrag'd Northumberland.
Let Heauen kisse Earth: now let not Natures hand
Keepe the wilde Flood confin'd: Let Order dye,
And let the world no longer be a stage
To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act:
But let one spirit of the First-borne Caine
Reigne in all bosomes,
that each heart being set
On bloody Courses, the rude Scene may end,
L.Bar. Sweet Earle, diuorce not wisedom from your
Mor. The liues of all your louing Complices
Leane-on your health, the which if you giue-o're
To stormy Passion, must perforce decay.
You cast th' euent of Warre (my Noble Lord)
And summ'd the accompt of Chance, before you said
Let vs make head: It was your presurmize,
That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop.
You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge
You were aduis'd his flesh was capeable
Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit
Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd,
Yet did you say go forth: and none of this
(Though strongly apprehended) could restraine
The stiffe-borne Action: What hath then befalne?
Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth,
More then that Being, which was like to be?
L.Bar. We all that are engaged to this losse,
That if we wrought out life, was ten to one:
And yet we ventur'd for the gaine propos'd,
Choak'd the respect of likely perill fear'd,
And since we are o're-set, venture againe.
Come, we will all put forth; Body, and Goods,
Mor. 'Tis more then time: And (my most Noble Lord)
I heare for certaine, and do speake the truth:
The gentle Arch-bishop of Yorke is vp
With well appointed Powres: he is a man
My Lord (your Sonne) had onely but the Corpes,
But shadowes, and the shewes of men to fight.
For that same word (Rebellion) did diuide
The action of their bodies, from their soules,
And they did fight with queasinesse, constrain'd
As men drinke Potions; that their Weapons only
Seem'd on our side: but for their Spirits and Soules,
This word (Rebellion) it had froze them vp,
As Fish are in a Pond. But now the Bishop
Suppos'd sincere, and holy in his Thoughts:
He's follow'd both with Body, and with Minde:
And doth enlarge his Rising, with the blood
Of faire King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones,
Deriues from heauen, his Quarrell, and his Cause:
Tels them, he doth bestride a bleeding Land,
Gasping for life, vnder great Bullingbrooke,
And more, and lesse, do flocke to follow him.
North. I knew of this before. But to speake truth,
Go in with me, and councell euery man
The aptest way for safety, and reuenge:
Get Posts, and Letters, and make Friends with speed,
Neuer so few, nor neuer yet more need. Exeunt.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 1.2]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 1.3]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 2.1]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 2.2]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 2.3]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 2.4]
1. Drawer. What hast thou brought there? Apple-Iohns?
Thou know'st Sir Iohn cannot endure an Apple-
Iohn.
2. Draw. Thou say'st true: the Prince once set a Dish
of Apple-Iohns before him, and told him there were fiue
more Sir Iohns: and, putting off his Hat, said, I will now
take my leaue of these sixe drie, round, old-wither'd
Knights. It anger'd him to the heart: but hee hath for-
got that.
see if thou canst finde out Sneakes Noyse; Mistris Teare-
sheet would faine haue some Musique.
2. Draw. Sirrha, heere will be the Prince, and Master
Points, anon: and they will put on two of our Ierkins,
and Aprons, and Sir Iohn must not know of it: Bardolph
hath brought word.
1. Draw. Then here will be old Vtis: it will be an ex-
cellent stratagem.
2. Draw. Ile see if I can finde out Sneake.
Exit.
Host. Sweet-heart, me thinkes now you are in an ex-
cellent good temperalitie: your Pulsidge beates as ex-
traordinarily, as heart would desire; and your Colour
(I warrant you) is as red as any Rose: But you haue
drunke too much Canaries, and that's a maruellous sear-
ching Wine; and it perfumes the blood, ere wee can say
what's this. How doe you now?
Dol. Better then I was: Hem.
Host. Why that was well said: A good heart's worth
Falst. When Arthur first in Court --- (emptie
the Iordan)
and was a worthy King: How now Mistris Dol?
Host. Sick of a Calme: yea, good-sooth.
Falst. So is all her Sect: if they be once in a Calme,
they are sick.
Dol. You muddie Rascall, is that all the comfort you
giue me?
Falst. You make fat Rascalls, Mistris Dol.
them, I make them not.
Falst. If the Cooke make the Gluttonie, you helpe to
make the Diseases ( Dol) we catch of you ( Dol) we catch
of you: Grant that, my poore Vertue, grant that.
Dol. I marry, our Chaynes, and our Iewels.
Falst. Your Brooches, Pearles, and Owches: For to
serue brauely, is to come halting off: you know, to come
off the Breach, with his Pike bent brauely, and to Surge-
rie brauely; to venture vpon the charg'd-Chambers
Host. Why this is the olde fashion: you two neuer
meete, but you fall to some discord: you are both (in
good troth) as Rheumatike as two drie Tostes, you can-
not one beare with anothers Confirmities. What the
good-yere? One must beare, and that must bee you:
you are the weaker Vessell; as they say, the emptier
Vessell.
Dol. Can a weake emptie Vessell beare such a huge
full Hogs-head? There's a whole Marchants Venture
better stufft in the Hold. Come, Ile be friends with thee
Iacke: Thou art going to the Warres, and whether I
shall euer see thee againe, or no, there is no body
cares.
Drawer. Sir, Ancient Pistoll is below, and
would
speake with you.
Dol. Hang him, swaggering Rascall, let him not
come hither: it is the foule-mouth'dst Rogue in Eng-
Host. If hee swagger, let him not come here: I must
liue amongst my Neighbors, Ile no Swaggerers: I am
in good name, and fame, with the very best: shut the
doore, there comes no Swaggerers heere: I haue not
liu'd all this while, to haue swaggering now: shut the
doore, I pray you.
Falst. Do'st thou heare, Hostesse?
Host. 'Pray you pacifie your selfe (Sir Iohn) there comes
no Swaggerers heere.
Host. Tilly-fally (Sir Iohn) neuer tell me, your ancient
Swaggerer comes not in my doores. I was before Master
Tisick the Deputie, the other day: and as hee said to me,
it was no longer agoe then Wednesday last: Neighbour
Quickly (sayes hee;) Master Dombe, our Minister, was by
then: Neighbour Quickly (sayes hee) receiue those that
are Ciuill; for (sayth hee) you are in an ill Name: now
hee said so, I can tell whereupon: for (sayes hee) you are
an honest Woman, and well thought on; therefore take
swaggering Companions. There comes none heere. You
would blesse you to heare what hee said. No, Ile no
Swaggerers.
Falst. Hee's no Swaggerer (Hostesse:) a tame Cheater,
hee: you may stroake him as gently, as a Puppie Grey-
hound: hee will not swagger with a Barbarie Henne, if
her feathers turne backe in any shew of resistance. Call
him vp (Drawer.)
Host. Cheater, call you him? I will barre no honest
gering; I am the worse when one sayes, swagger: Feele
Masters, how I shake: looke you, I warrant you.
Dol. So you doe, Hostesse.
Host. Doe I? yea, in very truth doe I, if it were an As-
pen Leafe: I cannot abide Swaggerers.
Pist. 'Saue you, Sir Iohn.
Falst. Welcome Ancient Pistol. Here ( Pistol) I charge
you with a Cup of Sacke: doe you discharge vpon mine
Pist. I will discharge vpon her (Sir Iohn) with two
Bullets.
Falst. She is Pistoll-proofe (Sir) you shall hardly of-
fend her.
Host. Come, Ile drinke no Proofes, nor no Bullets: I
will drinke no more then will doe me good, for no mans
pleasure, I.
Pist. Then to you (Mistris Dorothie) I will charge
you.
what? you poore, base, rascally, cheating, lacke-Linnen-
Mate: away you mouldie Rogue, away; I am meat for
your Master.
Pist. I know you, Mistris Dorothie.
Dol. Away you Cut-purse Rascall, you filthy Bung,
away: By this Wine, Ile thrust my Knife in your mouldie
Chappes, if you play the sawcie Cuttle with me. Away
you Bottle-Ale Rascall, you Basket-hilt stale Iugler, you.
Since when, I pray you, Sir? what, with two Points on
Pist. I will murther your Ruffe, for this.
Host. No, good Captaine Pistol: not heere, sweete
Captaine.
Dol. Captaine? thou abhominable damn'd Cheater,
art thou not asham'd to be call'd Captaine? If Captaines
were of my minde, they would trunchion you out, for ta-
king their Names vpon you, before you haue earn'd them.
You a Captaine? you slaue, for what? for tearing a poore
Whores Ruffe in a Bawdy-house? Hee a Captaine? hang
dry'de Cakes. A Captaine? These Villaines will make
the word Captaine odious: Therefore Captaines had
neede looke to it.
Bard. 'Pray thee goe downe, good Ancient.
Falst. Hearke thee hither, Mistris Dol.
Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporall Bardolph, I
could teare her: Ile be reueng'd on her.
Page. 'Pray thee goe downe.
Pist. Ile see her damn'd first: to Pluto's damn'd Lake,
also. Hold Hooke and Line, say I: Downe: downe
Dogges, downe Fates: haue wee not Hiren here?
Host. Good Captaine Peesel be quiet, it is very late:
I beseeke you now, aggrauate your Choler.
Pist. These be good Humors indeede. Shall Pack-
Horses, and hollow-pamper'd Iades of Asia, which can-
not goe but thirtie miles a day, compare with Caesar, and
with Caniballs, and Troian Greekes? nay, rather damne
them with King Cerberus, and let the Welkin roare: shall
Host. By my troth Captaine, these are very bitter
words.
Bard. Be gone, good Ancient: this will grow to a
Brawle anon.
Pist. Die men, like Dogges; giue Crownes like Pinnes:
Haue we not Hiren here?
Host. On my word (Captaine) there's none such here.
What the good-yere, doe you thinke I would denye her?
I pray be quiet.
giue me some Sack, Si fortune me tormente, sperato me con-
tente. Feare wee broad-sides? No, let the Fiend giue fire:
Giue me some Sack: and Sweet-heart lye thou there:
Come wee to full Points here, and are et cetera's no-
thing?
Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.
Pist. Sweet Knight, I kisse thy Neaffe: what? wee haue
seene the seuen Starres.
Dol. Thrust him downe stayres, I cannot endure such
Pist. Thrust him downe stayres? know we not Gallo-
way Nagges?
Fal. Quoit him downe ( Bardolph) like a shoue-groat
shilling: nay, if hee doe nothing but speake nothing, hee
shall be nothing here.
Bard. Come, get you downe stayres.
Pist. What? shall wee haue Incision? shall wee em-
brew? then Death rocke me asleepe, abridge my dolefull
dayes: why then let grieuous, gastly, gaping Wounds,
Host. Here's good stuffe toward.
Fal. Giue me my Rapier, Boy.
Dol. I prethee Iack, I prethee doe not draw.
Fal. Get you downe stayres.
Host. Here's a goodly tumult: Ile forsweare keeping
house, before Ile be in these tirrits, and frights. So: Mur-
ther I warrant now. Alas, alas, put vp your naked Wea-
pons, put vp your naked Weapons.
Dol. I prethee Iack be quiet, the Rascall is gone: ah,
Host. Are you not hurt i'th' Groyne? me thought hee
made a shrewd Thrust at your Belly.
Fal. Haue you turn'd him out of doores?
Bard. Yes Sir: the Rascall's drunke: you haue hurt
him (Sir) in the shoulder.
Fal. A Rascall to braue me.
Dol. Ah, you sweet little Rogue, you: alas, poore Ape,
how thou sweat'st? Come, let me wipe thy Face: Come
on, you whorson Chops: Ah Rogue, I loue thee: Thou
non, and tenne times better then the nine Worthies: ah
Villaine.
Fal. A rascally Slaue, I will tosse the Rogue in a Blan-
ket.
Dol. Doe, if thou dar'st for thy heart: if thou doo'st,
Ile canuas thee betweene a paire of Sheetes.
Page. The Musique is come, Sir.
Fal. Let them play: play Sirs. Sit on my Knee, Dol.
Quick-siluer.
Dol. And thou followd'st him like a Church: thou
whorson little tydie Bartholmew Bore-pigge, when wilt
thou leaue fighting on dayes, and foyning on nights, and
begin to patch vp thine old Body for Heauen?
Fal. Peace (good Dol) doe not speake like a
Deaths-
head: doe not bid me remember mine end.
Dol. Sirrha, what humor is the Prince of?
made a good Pantler, hee would haue chipp'd Bread
well.
Dol. They say Poines hath a good Wit.
Fal. Hee a good Wit? hang him Baboone, his Wit is
as thicke as Tewksburie Mustard: there is no more con-
ceit in him, then is in a Mallet.
Dol. Why doth the Prince loue him so then?
Fal. Because their Legges are both of a bignesse: and
hee playes at Quoits well, and eates Conger and Fennell,
the wilde-Mare with the Boyes, and iumpes vpon Ioyn'd-
stooles, and sweares with a good grace, and weares his
Boot very smooth, like vnto the Signe of the Legge; and
breedes no bate with telling of discreete stories: and such
other Gamboll Faculties hee hath, that shew a weake
Minde, and an able Body, for the which the Prince admits
him; for the Prince himselfe is such another: the
weight of an hayre will turne the Scales betweene their
Haber- de-pois.
Eares cut off?
Poin. Let vs beat him before his Whore.
Prince. Looke, if the wither'd Elder hath not his Poll
claw'd like a Parrot.
Poin. Is it not strange, that Desire should so many
yeeres out-liue performance?
Fal. Kisse me Dol.
Prince. Saturne and Venus this yeere in Coniunction?
What sayes the Almanack to that?
be not lisping to his Masters old Tables, his Note-Booke,
his Councell-keeper?
Fal. Thou do'st giue me flatt'ring Busses.
Dol. Nay truely, I kisse thee with a most constant
heart.
Fal. I am olde, I am olde.
Dol. I loue thee better, then I loue ere a scuruie young
Boy of them all.
Fal. What Stuffe wilt thou haue a Kirtle of? I shall
to morrow. A merrie Song, come: it growes late,
wee will to Bed. Thou wilt forget me, when I am
gone.
Dol. Thou wilt set me a weeping, if thou say'st so:
proue that euer I dresse my selfe handsome, till thy re-
turne: well, hearken the end.
Fal. Some Sack, Francis.
Prin. Poin. Anon, anon, Sir.
Fal. Ha? a Bastard Sonne of the Kings? And art not
Prince. Why thou Globe of sinfull Continents, what
a Life do'st thou lead?
Fal. A better then thou: I am a Gentleman, thou art
a Drawer.
Prince. Very true, Sir: and I come to draw you out
by the Eares.
Host. Oh, the Lord preserue thy good Grace: Wel-
come to London. Now Heauen blesse that sweete Face
of thine: what, are you come from Wales?
this light Flesh, and corrupt Blood, thou art welcome.
Dol. How? you fat Foole, I scorne you.
Poin. My Lord, hee will driue you out of your re-
uenge, and turne all to a merryment, if you take not the
heat.
Prince. You whorson Candle-myne you, how vildly
did you speake of me euen now, before this honest, ver-
tuous, ciuill Gentlewoman?
Host. 'Blessing on your good heart, and so shee is by
Fal. Didst thou heare me?
Prince. Yes: and you knew me, as you did when you
ranne away by Gads-hill: you knew I was at your back,
and spoke it on purpose, to trie my patience.
Fal. No, no, no: not so: I did not thinke, thou wast
within hearing.
Prince. I shall driue you then to confesse the wilfull
abuse, and then I know how to handle you.
Fal. No abuse ( Hall) on mine Honor, no abuse.
Bread-chopper, and I know not what?
Fal. No abuse ( Hal.)
Poin. No abuse?
Fal. No abuse ( Ned) in the World: honest Ned none.
I disprays'd him before the Wicked, that the Wicked
might not fall in loue with him: In which doing, I haue
done the part of a carefull Friend, and a true Subiect, and
thy Father is to giue me thankes for it. No abuse ( Hal:)
none ( Ned) none; no Boyes, none.
ardise, doth not make thee wrong this vertuous Gentle-
woman, to close with vs? Is shee of the Wicked? Is thine
Hostesse heere, of the Wicked? Or is the Boy of the
Wicked? Or honest Bardolph (whose Zeale burnes in his
Nose) of the Wicked?
Poin. Answere thou dead Elme, answere.
Fal. The Fiend hath prickt downe Bardolph irrecoue-
rable, and his Face is Lucifers Priuy-Kitchin, where hee
doth nothing but rost Mault-Wormes: for the Boy,
bids him too.
Prince. For the Women?
Fal. For one of them, shee is in Hell alreadie, and
burnes poore Soules: for the other, I owe her Mo-
ney; and whether shee bee damn'd for that, I know
not.
Host. No, I warrant you.
Fal.
No, I thinke thou art not: I thinke thou art quit
for that. Marry, there is another Indictment vpon thee,
the Law, for the which I thinke thou wilt howle.
Host. All Victuallers doe so: What is a Ioynt of
Mutton, or two, in a whole Lent?
Prince. You, Gentlewoman.
Dol. What sayes your Grace?
Falst. His Grace sayes that, which his flesh rebells
against.
Host. Who knocks so lowd at doore? Looke to the
doore there, Francis?
Prince. Peto, how now? what newes?
Peto. The King, your Father, is at Westminster,
And there are twentie weake and wearied Postes,
Come from the North: and as I came along,
I met, and ouer-tooke a dozen Captaines,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the Tauernes,
And asking euery one for Sir Iohn Falstaffe.
Prince. By Heauen ( Poines) I feele me much to blame,
So idly to prophane the precious time,
Borne with black Vapour, doth begin to melt,
And drop vpon our bare vnarmed heads.
Giue me my Sword, and Cloake:
Falstaffe, good night. Exit.
Falst. Now comes in the sweetest Morsell of the
night, and wee must hence, and leaue it vnpickt. More
knocking at the doore? How now? what's the mat-
ter?
Bard. You must away to Court, Sir, presently,
Falst. Pay the Musitians, Sirrha: farewell Hostesse,
farewell Dol. You see (my good Wenches) how men of
Merit are sought after: the vndeseruer may sleepe, when
the man of Action is call'd on. Farewell good Wenches:
if I be not sent away poste, I will see you againe, ere I
goe.
Dol. I cannot speake: if my heart bee not readie
to burst--- Well (sweete Iacke) haue a care of thy
selfe.
Host. Well, fare thee well: I haue knowne thee
these twentie nine yeeres, come Pescod-time: but an
honester, and truer-hearted man--- Well, fare thee
well.
Bard. Mistris Teare-sheet.
Host. What's the matter?
Bard. Bid Mistris Teare-sheet come to my Master.
Host. Oh runne Dol, runne: runne, good Dol.
Exeunt.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 3.1]
King. Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick:
But ere they come, bid them ore-reade these Letters,
And well consider of them: make good speed. Exit.
How many thousand of my poorest Subiects
Are at this howre asleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe,
Natures soft Nurse, how haue I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids downe,
And steepe my Sences in Forgetfulnesse?
Vpon vneasie Pallads stretching thee,
And huisht with bussing Night, flyes to thy slumber,
Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great?
Vnder the Canopies of costly State,
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melodie?
O thou dull God, why lyest thou with the vilde,
In loathsome Beds, and leau'st the Kingly Couch,
A Watch-case, or a common Larum-Bell?
Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Mast,
In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge,
And in the visitation of the Windes,
Who take the Ruffian Billowes by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deaff'ning Clamors in the slipp'ry Clouds,
That with the hurley, Death it selfe awakes?
Canst thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy Repose
To the wet Sea-Boy, in an houre so rude:
And in the calmest, and most stillest Night,
Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe,
Vneasie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.
War. Many good-morrowes to your Maiestie.
King. Is it good-morrow, Lords?
War. 'Tis One a Clock, and past.
King. Why then good-morrow to you all (my Lords:)
Haue you read o're the Letters that I sent you?
War. We haue (my Liege.)
How foule it is: what ranke Diseases grow,
And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?
War. It is but as a Body, yet distemper'd,
Which to his former strength may be restor'd,
With good aduice, and little Medicine:
My Lord Northumberland will soone be cool'd.
King. Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate,
And see the reuolution of the Times
Make Mountaines leuell, and the Continent
Into the Sea: and other Times, to see
The beachie Girdle of the Ocean
Too wide for Neptunes hippes; how Chances mocks
And Changes fill the Cuppe of Alteration
With diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,
Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together; and in two yeeres after,
Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres since,
This Percie was the man, neerest my Soule,
And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot:
Yea, for my sake, euen to the eyes of Richard
Gaue him defiance. But which of you was by
(You Cousin Neuil, as I may remember)
When Richard, with his Eye, brim-full of Teares,
(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland)
Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:)
Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the which
My Cousin Bullingbrooke
ascends my Throne:
But that necessitie so bow'd the State,
That I and Greatnesse were compell'd to kisse:)
The Time shall come (thus did hee follow it)
The Time will come, that foule Sinne gathering head,
Shall breake into Corruption: so went on,
Fore-telling this same Times Condition,
And the diuision of our Amitie.
War. There is a Historie in all mens Liues,
Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd:
With a neere ayme, of the maine chance of things,
As yet not come to Life, which in their Seedes
And weake beginnings lye entreasured:
Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time;
And by the necessarie forme of this,
King Richard might create a perfect guesse,
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falsenesse,
Which should not finde a ground to roote vpon,
King. Are these things then Necessities?
Then let vs meete them like Necessities;
And that same word, euen now cryes out on vs:
They say, the Bishop and Northumberland
Are fiftie thousand strong.
War. It cannot be (my Lord:)
Rumor doth double, like the Voice, and Eccho,
The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace
To goe to bed, vpon my Life (my Lord)
Shall bring this Prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I haue receiu'd
A certaine instance, that Glendour is dead.
Your Maiestie hath beene this fort-night ill,
And these vnseason'd howres perforce must adde
Vnto your Sicknesse.
King. I will take your counsaile:
And were these inward Warres once out of hand,
Wee would (deare Lords) vnto the Holy-Land.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 3.2]
Shal. Come-on, come-on, come-on: giue mee your
Hand, Sir; giue mee your Hand, Sir: an early stirrer, by
the Rood. And how doth my good Cousin Silence?
Sil. Good-morrow, good Cousin Shallow.
Shal. And how doth my Cousin, your Bed-fellow?
and your fairest Daughter, and mine, my God-Daughter
Sil. Alas, a blacke Ouzell (Cousin Shallow.)
Shal. By yea and nay, Sir. I dare say my Cousin William
is become a good Scholler? hee is at Oxford still, is hee
not?
Sil. Indeede Sir, to my cost.
Shal. Hee must then to the Innes of Court shortly: I
was once of Clements Inne; where (I thinke) they will
talke of mad Shallow yet.
Sil. You were call'd lustie Shallow then (Cousin.)
any thing indeede too, and roundly too. There was I, and
little Iohn Doit of Staffordshire, and blacke George Bare,
and Francis Pick-bone, and Will Squele a Cot-sal-man, you
had not foure such Swindge-bucklers in all the Innes of
Court againe: And I may say to you, wee knew where
the Bona-Roba's were, and had the best of them all at
commandement. Then was Iacke Falstaffe (now Sir Iohn)
a Boy, and Page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Nor-
folke.
bout Souldiers?
Shal. The same Sir Iohn, the very same: I saw him
breake Scoggan's Head at the Court-Gate, when hee was
a Crack, not thus high: and the very same day did I fight
with one Sampson Stock-fish, a Fruiterer, behinde Greyes-Inne.
Oh the mad dayes that I haue spent! and to see
how many of mine olde Acquaintance are dead?
Sil. Wee shall all follow (Cousin.)
Shal. Certaine: 'tis certaine: very sure, very sure:
of Bullocks at Stamford Fayre?
Sil. Truly Cousin, I was not there.
Shal. Death is certaine. Is old Double of your Towne
liuing yet?
Sil. Dead, Sir.
Shal. Dead? See, see: hee drew a good Bow: and
dead? hee shot a fine shoote. Iohn of Gaunt loued
him well, and betted much Money on his head. Dead?
hee would haue clapt in the Clowt at Twelue-score, and
teene and a halfe, that it would haue done a mans heart
good to see. How a score of Ewes now?
Sil. Thereafter as they be: a score of good Ewes
may be worth tenne pounds.
Shal. And is olde Double dead?
Sil. Heere come two of Sir Iohn Falstaffes Men
(as I
thinke.)
Shal. Good-morrow, honest Gentlemen.
Shal. I am Robert Shallow (Sir) a poore Esquire of this
Countie, and one of the Kings Iustices of the Peace:
What is your good pleasure with me?
Bard. My Captaine (Sir) commends him to you:
my Captaine, Sir Iohn Falstaffe: a tall Gentleman, and a
most gallant Leader.
Shal. Hee greetes me well: (Sir) I knew him a
good Back-Sword-man. How doth the good Knight?
may I aske, how my Lady his Wife doth?
ted, then with a Wife.
Shal. It is well said, Sir; and it is well said, indeede,
too: Better accommodated? it is good, yea indeede is
it: good phrases are surely, and euery where very com-
mendable. Accommodated, it comes of Accommodo:
very good, a good Phrase.
Bard. Pardon, Sir, I haue heard the word. Phrase
call you it? by this Day, I know not the Phrase: but
I will maintaine the Word with my Sword, to bee a
Command. Accommodated: that is, when a man is
(as they say) accommodated: or, when a man is, being
whereby he thought
to be accommodated, which is an
excellent thing.
Shal. It is very iust: Looke, heere comes good Sir
Iohn. Giue me your hand, giue me your Worships good
hand: Trust me, you looke well: and beare your yeares
very well. Welcome, good Sir Iohn.
low: Master Sure-card as I thinke?
Shal. No sir Iohn, it is my Cosin Silence: in Commissi-
on with mee.
Fal. Good M. Silence, it well befits you should be of
the peace.
Sil. Your good Worship is welcome.
Fal. Fye, this is hot weather (Gentlemen) haue you
prouided me heere halfe a dozen of sufficient men?
Shal. Marry haue we sir: Will you sit?
Shal. Where's the Roll? Where's the Roll? Where's
the Roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see: so, so, so, so:
yea marry Sir. Raphe Mouldie: let them appeare as I call:
let them do so, let them do so: Let mee see, Where is
Mouldie?
Moul. Heere, if it please you.
Shal. What thinke you (Sir Iohn) a good limb'd fel-
low: yong, strong, and of good friends.
Fal. Is thy name Mouldie?
Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert vs'd.
Shal. Ha, ha, ha, most excellent. Things that are moul-
die, lacke vse: very singular good. Well saide Sir Iohn,
very well said.
Fal. Pricke him.
Moul. I was prickt well enough before, if you could
haue let me alone: my old Dame will be vndone now, for
one to doe her Husbandry, and her Drudgery; you need
not to haue prickt me, there are other men fitter to goe
Fal. Go too: peace Mouldie, you shall goe. Mouldie,
it is time you were spent.
Moul. Spent?
Shallow. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside: Know you
where you are? For the other sir Iohn: Let me see: Simon
Shadow.
Fal. I marry, let me haue him to sit vnder: he's like to
be a cold souldier.
Shal. Where's Shadow?
Fal. Shadow, whose sonne art thou?
Shad. My Mothers sonne, Sir.
Falst. Thy Mothers sonne: like enough, and thy Fa-
thers shadow: so the sonne of the Female, is the shadow
of the Male: it is often so indeede, but not of the Fathers
substance.
Shal. Do you like him, sir Iohn?
Falst. Shadow will serue for Summer: pricke him: For
wee haue a number of shadowes to fill vppe the Muster-
Shal. Thomas Wart?
Falst. Where's he?
Wart. Heere sir.
Falst. Is thy name Wart?
Wart. Yea sir.
Fal. Thou art a very ragged Wart.
Shal. Shall I pricke him downe,
Sir Iohn?
Falst. It were superfluous: for his apparrel is built vp-
him no more.
Shal. Ha, ha, ha, you can do it sir: you can doe it: I
commend you well.
Francis Feeble.
Feeble. Heere sir.
Shal. What Trade art thou Feeble?
Feeble. A Womans Taylor sir.
Shal. Shall I pricke him, sir?
Fal. You may:
you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemies Bat-
taile, as thou hast done in a Womans petticote?
Feeble. I will doe my good will sir, you can haue no
more.
Falst. Well said, good Womans Tailour: Well sayde
Couragious Feeble: thou wilt bee as valiant as the wrath-
full Doue, or most magnanimous Mouse. Pricke the wo-
mans Taylour well Master Shallow, deepe Maister Shal-
low.
Fal. I would thou wert a mans Tailor, that y might'st
mend him, and make him fit to goe. I cannot put him to
a priuate souldier, that is the Leader of so many thou-
sands. Let that suffice, most Forcible Feeble.
Feeble. It shall suffice.
Falst. I am bound to thee, reuerend Feeble. Who is
the next?
Shal. Peter Bulcalfe of the Greene.
Falst. Yea marry, let vs see Bulcalfe.
Fal. Trust me, a likely Fellow. Come, pricke me Bul -
calfe till he roare againe.
Bul. Oh, good my Lord Captaine.
Fal. What? do'st thou roare before th'art prickt.
Bul. Oh sir, I am a diseased man.
Fal. What disease hast thou?
Bul. A whorson cold sir, a cough sir, which I caught
with Ringing in the Kings affayres, vpon his Coronation
day, sir.
we will haue away thy Cold, and I will take such order,
that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is heere all?
Shal. There is two more called then your number:
you must haue but foure heere sir, and so I pray you go in
with me to dinner.
Fal. Come, I will goe drinke with you, but I cannot
tarry dinner. I am glad to see you in good troth, Master
Shallow.
Shal. O sir Iohn, doe you remember since wee lay all
Falstaffe. No more of that good Master Shallow: No
more of that.
Shal. Ha? it was a merry night. And is Iane Night-
worke aliue?
Fal. She liues, M. Shallow.
Shal. She neuer could away with me.
Fal. Neuer, neuer: she would alwayes say shee could
not abide M. Shallow.
Shal. I could anger her to the heart: shee was then a
Fal. Old, old, M. Shallow.
Shal. Nay, she must be old, she cannot choose but be
old: certaine shee's old:
and had Robin Night-worke, by
old Night-worke, before I came to Clements Inne.
Sil. That's fiftie fiue yeeres agoe.
Shal. Hah, Cousin Silence, that thou hadst seene that,
that this Knight and I haue seene: hah, Sir Iohn, said I
well?
Falst. Wee haue heard the Chymes at mid-night, Ma-
Shal. That wee haue, that wee haue; in faith, Sir Iohn,
wee haue: our watch-word was, Hem-Boyes. Come,
let's to Dinner; come, let's to Dinner: Oh the dayes that
wee haue seene. Come, come.
Bul. Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my
friend, and heere is foure Harry tenne shillings in French
Crownes for you: in very truth, sir, I had as lief be hang'd
sir, as goe: and yet, for mine owne part, sir, I do not care;
but rather, because I am vnwilling, and for mine owne
not care, for mine owne part, so much.
Bard. Go-too: stand aside.
Mould. And good Master Corporall Captaine, for my
old Dames sake, stand my friend: shee hath no body to
doe any thing about her, when I am gone: and she is old,
and cannot helpe her selfe: you shall haue fortie, sir.
Bard. Go-too: stand aside.
Feeble. I care not, a man can die but once: wee owe a
death. I will neuer beare a base minde: if it be my desti-
Prince: and let it goe which way it will, he that dies this
yeere, is quit for the next.
Bard. Well said, thou art a good fellow.
Feeble. Nay, I will beare no base minde.
Falst. Come sir, which men shall I haue?
Shal. Foure of which you please.
Bard. Sir, a word with you: I haue three pound, to
free Mouldie and Bull-calfe.
Falst. Go-too: well.
Falst. Doe you chuse for me.
Shal. Marry then, Mouldie, Bull-calfe, Feeble, and
Shadow.
Falst. Mouldie, and Bull-calfe: for you Mouldie,
stay
at home, till you are past seruice: and for your part, Bull-
calfe, grow till you come vnto it: I will none of you.
Shal. Sir Iohn, Sir Iohn, doe not your selfe wrong, they
are your likelyest men, and I would haue you seru'd with
the best.
a man? Care I for the Limbe, the Thewes, the stature,
bulke, and bigge assemblance of a man? giue mee the
spirit (Master Shallow.) Where's Wart? you see what
a ragged appearance it is: hee shall charge you, and
discharge you, with the motion of a Pewterers Ham-
mer: come off, and on, swifter then hee that gibbets on
the Brewers Bucket. And this same halfe-fac'd fellow,
Shadow, giue me this man: hee presents no marke to the
Enemie, the foe-man may with as great ayme leuell at
will this Feeble, the Womans Taylor, runne off. O, giue
me the spare men, and spare me the great ones. Put me a
Calyuer into Warts hand, Bardolph.
Bard. Hold Wart, Trauerse: thus, thus, thus.
Falst. Come, manage me your Calyuer: so: very well,
go-too, very good, exceeding good. O, giue me alwayes
a little, leane, old, chopt, bald Shot. Well said Wart, thou
art a good Scab: hold, there is a Tester for thee.
Shal. Hee is not his Crafts-master, hee doth not doe
at Clements Inne, I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthurs
Show: there was a little quiuer fellow, and hee would
manage you his Peece thus: and hee would about,
and about, and come you in, and come you in: Rah,
tah, tah, would hee say, Bownce would hee say, and
away againe would hee goe, and againe would he come:
I shall neuer see such a fellow.
Falst. These fellowes will doe well, Master Shallow.
Farewell Master Silence, I will not vse many wordes with
I must a dozen mile to night. Bardolph, giue the Souldiers
Coates.
Shal. Sir Iohn, Heauen blesse you, and prosper your
Affaires, and send vs Peace. As you returne, visit
my house. Let our old acquaintance be renewed: per-
aduenture I will with you to the Court.
Falst. I would you would, Master Shallow.
Shal. Go-too: I haue spoke at a word. Fare you
well. Exit.
dolph, leade the men away. As I returne, I will fetch off
these Iustices: I doe see the bottome of Iustice Shal-
low. How subiect wee old men are to this vice of Ly-
ing? This same staru'd Iustice hath done nothing but
prate to me of the wildenesse of his Youth, and the
Feates hee hath done about Turnball-street, and euery
third word a Lye, duer pay'd to the hearer, then the
Turkes Tribute. I doe remember him at Clements Inne,
like a man made after Supper, of a Cheese-paring. When
Radish, with a Head fantastically caru'd vpon it with a
Knife. Hee was so forlorne, that his Dimensions (to
any thicke sight) were inuincible. Hee was the very
Genius of Famine: hee came euer in the rere-ward of
the Fashion: And now is this Vices Dagger become a
Squire, and talkes as familiarly of Iohn of Gaunt, as if
hee had beene sworne Brother to him: and Ile be sworne
hee neuer saw him but once in the Tilt-yard, and then he
burst his Head, for crowding among the Marshals men.
Name, for you might haue truss'd him and all his Ap-
parrell into an Eele-skinne: the Case of a Treble Hoe-
boy was a Mansion for him: a Court: and now hath
hee Land, and Beeues. Well, I will be acquainted with
him, if I returne: and it shall goe hard, but I will make
him a Philosophers two Stones to me. If the young
Dace be a Bayt for the old Pike, I see no reason, in the
Law of Nature, but I may snap at him. Let time shape,
and there an end. Exeunt.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 4.1]
Bish. What is this Forrest call'd?
Hast. 'Tis Gaultree Forrest, and't shall please your
Grace.
Bish. Here stand (my Lords) and send discouerers forth,
To know the numbers of our Enemies.
Hast. Wee haue sent forth alreadie.
Bish. 'Tis well done.
I must acquaint you, that I haue receiu'd
New-dated Letters from Northumberland:
Their cold intent, tenure, and substance thus.
Here doth hee wish his Person, with such Powers
As might hold sortance with his Qualitie,
The which hee could not leuie: whereupon
Hee is retyr'd, to ripe his growing Fortunes,
To Scotland; and concludes in heartie prayers,
That your Attempts may ouer-liue the hazard,
Mow. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,
And dash themselues to pieces.
Hast. Now? what newes?
Mess. West of this Forrest, scarcely off a mile,
In goodly forme, comes on the Enemie:
And by the ground they hide, I iudge their number
Vpon, or neere, the rate of thirtie thousand.
Mow. The iust proportion that we gaue them out.
Bish. What well-appointed Leader fronts vs here?
Mow. I thinke it is my Lord of Westmerland.
West. Health, and faire greeting from our Generall,
The Prince, Lord Iohn, and Duke of Lancaster.
Bish. Say on (my Lord of Westmerland) in peace:
What doth concerne your comming?
West. Then (my Lord)
Vnto your Grace doe I in chiefe addresse
Came like it selfe, in base and abiect Routs,
Led on by bloodie Youth, guarded with Rage,
And countenanc'd by Boyes, and Beggerie:
I say, if damn'd Commotion so appeare,
In his true, natiue, and most proper shape,
You (Reuerend Father, and these Noble Lords)
Had not beene here, to dresse the ougly forme
Of base, and bloodie Insurrection,
With your faire Honors. You, Lord Arch-bishop,
Whose Beard, the Siluer Hand of Peace hath touch'd,
Whose Learning, and good Letters, Peace hath tutor'd,
Whose white Inuestments figure Innocence,
The Doue, and very blessed Spirit of Peace.
Wherefore doe you so ill translate your selfe,
Out of the Speech of Peace, that beares such grace,
Into the harsh and boystrous Tongue of Warre?
Turning your Bookes to Graues, your Inke to Blood,
Your Pennes to Launces, and your Tongue diuine
Bish. Wherefore doe I this? so the Question stands.
Briefely to this end: Wee are all diseas'd,
And with our surfetting, and wanton howres,
Haue brought our selues into a burning Feuer,
And wee must bleede for it: of which Disease,
Our late King Richard (being infected) dy'd.
But (my most Noble Lord of Westmerland)
I take not on me here as a Physician,
Nor doe I, as an Enemie to Peace,
But rather shew a while like fearefull Warre,
To dyet ranke Mindes, sicke of happinesse,
And purge th' obstructions, which begin to stop
Our very Veines of Life: heare me more plainely.
I haue in equall ballance iustly weigh'd,
What wrongs our Arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,
And finde our Griefes heauier then our Offences.
Wee see which way the streame of Time doth runne,
And are enforc'd from our most quiet there,
And haue the summarie of all our Griefes
(When time shall serue) to shew in Articles;
Which long ere this, wee offer'd to the King,
And might, by no Suit, gayne our Audience:
When wee are wrong'd, and would vnfold our Griefes,
Wee are deny'd accesse vnto his Person,
Euen by those men, that most haue done vs wrong.
The dangers of the dayes but newly gone,
Whose memorie is written on the Earth
Of euery Minutes instance (present now)
Hath put vs in these ill-beseeming Armes:
Not to breake Peace, or any Branch of it,
But to establish here a Peace indeede,
Concurring both in Name and Qualitie.
West. When euer yet was your Appeale deny'd?
Wherein haue you beene galled by the King?
What Peere hath beene suborn'd, to grate on you,
That you should seale this lawlesse bloody Booke
Bish. My Brother generall, the Common-wealth,
I make my Quarrell, in particular.
West. There is no neede of any such redresse:
Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
Mow. Why not to him in part, and to vs all,
That feele the bruizes of the dayes before,
And suffer the Condition of these Times
To lay a heauie and vnequall Hand vpon our Honors?
West. O my good Lord Mowbray,
And you shall say (indeede) it is the Time,
And not the King, that doth you iniuries.
Yet for your part, it not appeares to me,
Either from the King, or in the present Time,
That you should haue an ynch of any ground
To build a Griefe on: were you not restor'd
To all the Duke of Norfolkes Seignories,
Your Noble, and right well-remembred Fathers?
Mow. What thing, in Honor, had my Father lost,
The King that lou'd him, as the State stood then,
Was forc'd, perforce compell'd to banish him:
And then, that Henry Bullingbrooke and hee
Being mounted, and both rowsed in their Seates,
Their neighing Coursers daring of the Spurre,
Their armed Staues in charge, their Beauers downe,
Their eyes of fire, sparkling through sights of Steele,
And the lowd Trumpet blowing them together:
Then, then, when there was nothing could haue stay'd
O, when the King did throw his Warder downe,
(His owne Life hung vpon the Staffe hee threw)
Then threw hee downe himselfe, and all their Liues,
That by Indictment, and by dint of Sword,
Haue since mis-carryed vnder Bullingbrooke.
West.
You speak (Lord Mowbray) now you know not what.
The Earle of Hereford was reputed then
In England the most valiant Gentleman.
Who knowes, on whom Fortune would then haue smil'd?
Hee ne're had borne it out of Couentry.
For all the Countrey, in a generall voyce,
Cry'd hate vpon him: and all their prayers, and loue,
Were set on Herford, whom they doted on,
And bless'd, and grac'd, and did more then the King.
But this is meere digression from my purpose.
Here come I from our Princely Generall,
To know your Griefes; to tell you, from his Grace,
That hee will giue you Audience: and wherein
You shall enioy them, euery thing set off,
That might so much as thinke you Enemies.
Mow. But hee hath forc'd vs to compell this Offer,
And it proceedes from Pollicy, not Loue.
West. Mowbray, you ouer-weene to take it so:
This Offer comes from Mercy, not from Feare.
For loe, within a Ken our Army lyes,
Vpon mine Honor, all too confident
To giue admittance to a thought of feare.
Our Men more perfect in the vse of Armes,
Our Armor all as strong, our Cause the best;
Then Reason will, our hearts should be as good.
Say you not then, our Offer is compell'd.
Mow. Well, by my will, wee shall admit no Parley.
West. That argues but the shame of your offence:
A rotten Case abides no handling.
Hast. Hath the Prince Iohn a full Commission,
In very ample vertue of his Father,
Of what Conditions wee shall stand vpon?
West. That is intended in the Generals Name:
I muse you make so slight a Question.
Bish. Then take (my Lord of Westmerland) this Schedule,
For this containes our generall Grieuances:
Each seuerall Article herein redress'd,
All members of our Cause, both here, and hence,
That are insinewed to this Action,
Acquitted by a true substantiall forme,
To vs, and to our purposes confin'd,
Wee come within our awfull Banks againe,
And knit our Powers to the Arme of Peace.
West. This will I shew the Generall. Please you Lords,
In sight of both our Battailes, wee may meete
At either end in peace: which Heauen so frame,
Or to the place of difference call the Swords,
Which must decide it.
Bish. My Lord, wee will doe so.
That no Conditions of our Peace can stand.
Hast. Feare you not, that if wee can make our Peace
Vpon such large termes, and so absolute,
As our Conditions shall consist vpon,
Our Peace shall stand as firme as Rockie Mountaines.
Mow. I, but our valuation shall be such,
That euery slight, and false-deriued Cause,
Yea, euery idle, nice, and wanton Reason,
Shall, to the King, taste of this Action:
Wee shall be winnowed with so rough a winde,
That euen our Corne shall seeme as light as Chaffe,
And good from bad finde no partition.
Bish. No, no (my Lord) note this: the King is wearie
Of daintie, and such picking Grieuances:
For hee hath found, to end one doubt by Death,
Reuiues two greater in the Heires of Life.
And therefore will hee wipe his Tables cleane,
And keepe no Tell-tale to his Memorie,
To new remembrance. For full well hee knowes,
Hee cannot so precisely weede this Land,
As his mis-doubts present occasion:
His foes are so en-rooted with his friends,
That plucking to vnfixe an Enemie,
Hee doth vnfasten so, and shake a friend.
So that this Land, like an offensiue wife,
That hath enrag'd him on, to offer strokes,
As he is striking, holds his Infant vp,
That was vprear'd to execution.
Hast. Besides, the King hath wasted all his Rods,
On late Offenders, that he now doth lacke
The very Instruments of Chasticement:
So that his power, like to a Fanglesse Lion
May offer, but not hold.
Bish. 'Tis very true:
And therefore be assur'd (my good Lord Marshal)
If we do now make our attonement well,
Grow stronger, for the breaking.
Mow. Be it so:
Heere is return'd my Lord of Westmerland.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 4.2]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 4.3]
Call in the Powers, good Cousin Westmerland.
Now Falstaffe, where haue you beene all this while?
When euery thing is ended, then you come.
These tardie Tricks of yours will (on my life)
One time, or other, breake some Gallowes back.
Falst. I would bee sorry (my Lord) but it should bee
thus: I neuer knew yet, but rebuke and checke was the
reward of Valour. Doe you thinke me a Swallow, an Ar-
row, or a Bullet? Haue I, in my poore and olde Motion,
the very extremest ynch of possibilitie. I haue fowndred
nine score and odde Postes: and heere (trauell-tainted
as I am) haue, in my pure and immaculate Valour, taken
Sir Iohn Colleuile of the Dale, a most furious Knight, and
valorous Enemie: But what of that? hee saw mee, and
yeelded: that I may iustly say with the hooke-nos'd
fellow of Rome, I came, saw, and ouer-came.
Iohn. It was more of his Courtesie, then your deser-
uing.
him: and I beseech your Grace, let it be book'd, with
the rest of this dayes deedes; or I sweare, I will haue it
in a particular Ballad, with mine owne Picture on the top
of it ( Colleuile kissing my foot:) To the which course, if
I be enforc'd, if you do not all shew like gilt two-pences
to me; and I, in the cleare Skie of Fame, o're-shine you
as much as the Full Moone doth the Cynders of the Ele-
ment (which shew like Pinnes-heads to her) beleeue not
the Word of the Noble: therefore let mee haue right,
Iohn. Thine's too heauie to mount.
Falst. Let it shine then.
Iohn. Thine's too thick to shine.
Falst. Let it doe something (my good Lord) that may
doe me good, and call it what you will.
Iohn. Is thy Name Colleuile?
Col. It is (my Lord.)
Iohn. A famous Rebell art thou, Colleuile.
Falst. And a famous true Subiect tooke him.
That led me hither: had they beene rul'd by me,
You should haue wonne them dearer then you haue.
Falst. I know not how they sold themselues, but thou
like a kinde fellow, gau'st thy selfe away; and I thanke
thee, for thee.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 4.4]
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 4.5]
Vnlesse some dull and fauourable hand
Will whisper Musicke to my wearie Spirit.
War. Call for the Musicke in the other Roome.
King. Set me the Crowne vpon my Pillow here.
Clar. His eye is hollow, and hee changes much.
War. Lesse noyse, lesse noyse.
P.Hen. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
Clar. I am here (Brother) full of heauinesse.
abroad? How doth the King?
Glo. Exceeding ill.
P.Hen. Heard hee the good newes yet?
Tell it him.
Glo. Hee alter'd much, vpon the hearing it.
P.Hen. If hee be sicke with Ioy,
Hee'le recouer without Physicke.
War. Not so much noyse (my Lords)
Sweet Prince speake lowe,
Clar. Let vs with-draw into the other Roome.
War. Wil't please your Grace to goe along with vs?
P.Hen. No: I will sit, and watch here, by the King.
Why doth the Crowne lye there, vpon his Pillow,
Being so troublesome a Bed-fellow?
O pollish'd Perturbation! Golden Care!
That keep'st the Ports of Slumber open wide,
To many a watchfull Night: sleepe with it now,
Yet not so sound, and halfe so deepely sweete,
Snores out the Watch of Night. O Maiestie!
When thou do'st pinch thy Bearer, thou do'st sit
Like a rich Armor, worne in heat of day,
That scald'st with safetie: by his Gates of breath,
There lyes a dowlney feather, which stirres not:
Did hee suspire, that light and weightlesse dowlne
Perforce must moue. My gracious Lord, my Father,
This sleepe is sound indeede: this is a sleepe,
That from this Golden Rigoll hath diuorc'd
Is Teares, and heauie Sorrowes of the Blood,
Which Nature, Loue, and filiall tendernesse,
Shall (O deare Father) pay thee plenteously.
My due, from thee, is this Imperiall Crowne,
Which (as immediate from thy Place, and Blood)
Deriues it selfe to me. Loe, heere it sits,
Which Heauen shall guard:
And put the worlds whole strength into one gyant Arme,
It shall not force this Lineall Honor from me.
As 'tis left to me. Exit.
King. Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence.
Clar. Doth the King call?
War. What would your Maiestie? how fares your
Grace?
King. Why did you leaue me here alone (my Lords?)
Cla. We left the Prince (my Brother) here (my Liege)
Who vndertooke to sit and watch by you.
see him.
War. This doore is open, hee is gone this way.
Glo. Hee came not through the Chamber where wee
stayd.
King. Where is the Crowne? who tooke it from my
Pillow?
War. When wee with-drew (my Liege) wee left it
heere.
King. The Prince hath ta'ne it hence:
Is hee so hastie, that hee doth suppose
My sleepe, my death? Finde him (my Lord of Warwick)
Chide him hither: this part of his conioynes
With my disease, and helpes to end me.
See Sonnes, what things you are:
How quickly Nature falls into reuolt,
When Gold becomes her Obiect?
For this, the foolish ouer-carefull Fathers
Haue broke their sleepes with thoughts,
For this, they haue ingrossed and pyl'd vp
The canker'd heapes of strange-atchieued Gold:
For this, they haue beene thoughtfull, to inuest
Their Sonnes with Arts, and Martiall Exercises:
When, like the Bee, culling from euery flower
The vertuous Sweetes, our Thighes packt with Wax,
Our Mouthes with Honey, wee bring it to the Hiue;
And like the Bees, are murthered for our paines.
This bitter taste yeelds his engrossements,
King. Looke, looke,
Heere comes my Iohn of Lancaster:
Iohn. Health, Peace, and Happinesse,
To my Royall Father.
King. Thou bring'st me happinesse and Peace
(Sonne Iohn:
From this bare, wither'd Trunke. Vpon thy sight
My worldly businesse makes a period.
Where is my Lord of
Warwicke?
Prin. My Lord of Warwicke.
King. Doth any name particular, belong
Vnto the Lodging, where I first did swoon'd?
War. 'Tis call'd Ierusalem, my Noble Lord.
King. Laud be to heauen:
Euen there my life must end.
I should not dye, but in Ierusalem:
Which (vainly) I suppos'd the Holy-Land.
But beare me to that Chamber, there Ile lye:
In that Ierusalem, shall Harry dye. Exeunt.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 5.1]
Shal. By Cocke and Pye, you shall not away to night.
What Dauy, I say.
Shal. I will not excuse you: you shall not be excused.
Excuses shall not be admitted: there is no excuse shall
serue: you shall not be excus'd.
Why Dauie.
Dauie. Heere sir.
Shal. Dauy, Dauy, Dauy, let me see ( Dauy) let me see:
William Cooke, bid him come hither. Sir Iohn, you shal
not be excus'd.
Dauy. Marry sir, thus: those Precepts cannot bee
Wheate?
Shal. With red Wheate Dauy. But for William Cook:
are there no yong Pigeons?
Dauy. Yes Sir.
Heere is now the Smithes note, for Shooing,
And Plough-Irons.
Shal. Let it be cast, and payde: Sir Iohn, you shall
not be excus'd.
Dauy. Sir, a new linke to the Bucket must needes bee
Wages, about the Sacke he lost the other day, at Hinckley
Fayre?
Shal. He shall answer it:
Some Pigeons Dauy, a couple of short-legg'd Hennes: a
ioynt of Mutton, and any pretty little tine Kickshawes,
tell William Cooke.
Dauy. Doth the man of Warre, stay all night sir?
Shal. Yes Dauy:
I will vse him well. A Friend i'th Court, is better then a
rant Knaues, and will backe-bite.
Dauy. No worse then they are bitten, sir: For they
haue maruellous fowle linnen.
Shallow. Well conceited Dauy: about thy Businesse,
Dauy.
Dauy. I beseech you sir,
To countenance William Visor of Woncot, against Cle-
ment Perkes of the hill.
Shal. There are many Complaints Dauy, against that
ledge.
Dauy. I graunt your Worship, that he is a knaue Sir:)
But yet heauen forbid Sir, but a Knaue should haue some
Countenance, at his Friends request. An honest man sir,
is able to speake for himselfe, when a Knaue is not. I haue
seru'd your Worshippe truely sir, these eight yeares: and
if I cannot once or twice in a Quarter beare out a knaue,
against an honest man, I haue but a very litle credite with
your Worshippe. The Knaue is mine honest Friend Sir,
nanc'd.
Shal. Go too,
I say he shall haue no wrong: Looke about Dauy.
Where are you Sir Iohn? Come, off with your Boots.
Giue me your hand M. Bardolfe.
Bard. I am glad to see your Worship.
Shal. I thanke thee, with all my heart, kinde Master
Bardolfe: and welcome my tall Fellow:
Come Sir Iohn.
Bardolfe, looke to our Horsses. If I were saw'de into
Quantities, I should make foure dozen of such bearded
Hermites staues, as Master Shallow. It is a wonderfull
thing to see the semblable Coherence of his mens spirits,
and his: They, by obseruing of him, do beare themselues
like foolish Iustices: Hee, by conuersing with them, is
turn'd into a Iustice-like Seruingman. Their spirits are
so married in Coniunction, with the participation of So-
ciety, that they flocke together in consent, like so ma-
would humour his men, with the imputation of beeing
neere their Mayster. If to his Men, I would currie with
Maister Shallow, that no man could better command his
Seruants. It is certaine, that either wise bearing, or ig-
norant Carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of
another: therefore, let men take heede of their Compa-
nie. I will deuise matter enough out of this Shallow, to
keepe Prince Harry in continuall Laughter, the wearing
out of sixe Fashions (which is foure Tearmes) or two Ac-
that a Lye (with a slight Oath) and a iest (with a sadde
brow) will doe, with a Fellow, that neuer had the Ache
in his shoulders. O you shall see him laugh, till his Face
be like a wet Cloake, ill laid vp.
Shal. Sir Iohn.
Falst. I come Master Shallow, I come Master Shallow.
Exeunt
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 5.2]
Warwicke. How now, my Lord Chiefe Iustice, whe-
ther away?
Ch.Iust. How doth the King?
Warw. Exceeding well: his Cares
Are now, all ended.
Ch.Iust. I hope, not dead.
Warw. Hee's walk'd the way of Nature,
And to our purposes, he liues no more.
Ch.Iust. I would his Maiesty had call'd me with him,
Hath left me open to all iniuries.
War.
Indeed I thinke the yong King loues you not.
Ch.Iust. I know he doth not, and do arme my selfe
To welcome the condition of the Time,
Which cannot looke more hideously vpon me,
Then I haue drawne it in my fantasie.
War. Heere come the heauy Issue of dead Harrie:
Of him, the worst of these three Gentlemen:
How many Nobles then, should hold their places,
That must strike saile, to Spirits of vilde sort?
Ch.Iust. Alas, I feare, all will be ouer-turn'd.
Iohn. Good morrow Cosin Warwick, good morrow.
Glou. Cla. Good morrow, Cosin.
Iohn. We meet, like men, that had forgot to speake.
War. We do remember: but our Argument
Is all too heauy, to admit much talke.
Ch.Iust. Peace be with vs, least we be heauier.
Glou. O, good my Lord, you haue lost a friend indeed:
And I dare sweare, you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your owne.
Iohn. Though no man be assur'd what grace to finde,
You stand in coldest expectation.
I am the sorrier, would 'twere otherwise.
Cla. Wel, you must now speake Sir Iohn Falstaffe faire,
Which swimmes against your streame of Quality.
Led by th' Imperiall Conduct of my Soule,
And neuer shall you see, that I will begge
A ragged, and fore-stall'd Remission.
If Troth, and vpright Innocency fayle me,
Ile to the King (my Master) that is dead,
And tell him, who hath sent me after him.
War. Heere comes the Prince.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 5.3]
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine Orchard: where, in an
Arbor we will eate a last yeares Pippin of my owne graf-
fing, with a dish of Carrawayes, and so forth. (Come Co-
sin Silence, and then to bed.
Fal. You haue heere a goodly dwelling, and a rich.
Shal. Barren, barren, barren: Beggers all, beggers all
Well said Dauie.
Falst. This Dauie serues you for good vses: he is your
Seruingman, and your Husband.
Shal. A good Varlet, a good Varlet, a very good Var-
let, Sir Iohn: I haue drunke too much Sacke at Supper. A
good Varlet. Now sit downe, now sit downe: Come
Cosin.
Sil. Ah sirra (quoth-a) we shall doe nothing but eate,
and make good cheere, and praise heauen for the merrie
Lads rome heere, and there: so merrily, and euer among
so merrily.
Fal. There's a merry heart, good M. Silence, Ile giue
you a health for that anon.
Shal. Good M. Bardolfe: some wine, Dauie.
Da. Sweet sir, sit: Ile be with you anon: most sweete
sir, sit. Master Page, good M. Page, sit: Proface. What
you want in meate, wee'l haue in drinke: but you beare,
the heart's all.
there, be merry.
Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife ha's all.
For women are Shrewes, both short, and tall:
'Tis merry in Hall, when Beards wagge all;
And welcome merry Shrouetide. Be merry, be merry.
Fal. I did not thinke M. Silence had bin a man of this
Mettle.
Sil. Who I? I haue beene merry twice and once, ere
now.
Shal. Dauie.
Dau. Your Worship: Ile be with you straight. A cup
of Wine, sir?
Sil. A Cup of Wine, that's briske and fine, & drinke
vnto the Leman mine: and a merry heart liues long-a.
Fal. Well said, M. Silence.
Sil. If we shall be merry, now comes in the sweete of
the night.
Fal. Health, and long life to you, M. Silence.
mile to the bottome.
Shal. Honest Bardolfe, welcome: If thou want'st any
thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome my
little tyne theefe, and welcome indeed too: Ile drinke to
M. Bardolfe, and to all the Cauileroes about London.
Dau. I hope to see London, once ere I die.
Bar. If I might see you there, Dauie.
Shal. You'l cracke a quart together? Ha, will you not
M. Bardolfe?
Shal. I thanke thee: the knaue will sticke by thee, I
can assure thee that. He will not out, he is true bred.
Bar. And Ile sticke by him, sir.
Shal. Why there spoke a King: lack nothing, be merry.
Looke, who's at doore there, ho: who knockes?
Fal. Why now you haue done me right.
Sil. Do me right, and dub me Knight, Samingo. Is't
not so?
Fal. 'Tis so.
Dau. If it please your Worshippe, there's one Pistoll
come from the Court with newes.
Fal. From the Court? Let him come in.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 5.4]
Hostesse. No, thou arrant knaue: I would I might dy,
that I might haue thee hang'd: Thou hast drawne my
shoulder out of ioynt.
Off. The Constables haue deliuer'd her ouer to mee:
and shee shall haue Whipping cheere enough, I warrant
her. There hath beene a man or two (lately) kill'd about
her.
Dol. Nut-hooke, nut-hooke, you Lye: Come on, Ile
tell thee what, thou damn'd Tripe-visag'd Rascall, if the
thou had'st strooke thy Mother, thou Paper-fac'd Vil-
laine.
Host. O that Sir Iohn were come, hee would make
this a bloody day to some body. But I would the Fruite
of her Wombe might miscarry.
Officer. If it do, you shall haue a dozen of Cushions
againe, you haue but eleuen now. Come, I charge you
both go with me: for the man is dead, that you and Pi-
stoll beate among you.
will haue you as soundly swindg'd for this, you blew-
Bottel'd Rogue: you filthy famish'd Correctioner, if you
be not swing'd, Ile forsweare halfe Kirtles.
Off. Come, come, you shee-Knight-arrant, come.
Host. O, that right should thus o'recome might. Wel
of sufferance, comes ease.
Dol. Come you Rogue, come:
Bring me to a Iustice.
Host. Yes, come you staru'd Blood-hound.
Host. Thou Anatomy, thou.
Dol. Come you thinne Thing:
Come you Rascall.
Off. Very well. Exeunt.
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) 5.5]
Falstaffe. Stand heere by me, M. Robert Shallow,
I will
make the King do you Grace. I will leere vpon him, as
he comes by: and do but marke the countenance that hee
will giue me.
Pistol. Blesse thy Lungs, good Knight.
Falst. Come heere Pistol, stand behind me. O if I had
had time to haue made new Liueries, I would haue be-
stowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But it is
the zeale I had to see him.
Shal. It doth so.
Falst. It shewes my earnestnesse in affection.
Pist. It doth so.
Fal. My deuotion.
Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth.
Fal. As it were, to ride day and night,
And not to deliberate, not to remember,
Not to haue patience to shift me.
Fal. But to stand stained with Trauaile, and sweating
with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else, putting
all affayres in obliuion, as if there were nothing els to bee
done, but to see him.
Pist. 'Tis semper idem: for obsque hoc nihil est. 'Tis
all
in euery part.
Shal. 'Tis so indeed.
Pist. My Knight, I will enflame thy Noble Liuer, and
make thee rage. Thy Dol, and Helen of thy noble thoghts
ther by most Mechanicall and durty hand. Rowze vppe
Reuenge from Ebon den, with fell Alecto's Snake, for
Dol is in. Pistol, speakes nought but troth.
Fal. I will deliuer her.
Pistol. There roar'd the Sea: and Trumpet Clangour
sounds.
Pist. The heauens thee guard, and keepe, most royall
Impe of Fame.
Fal. 'Saue thee my sweet Boy.
King. My Lord Chiefe Iustice, speake to that vaine
man.
Ch.Iust. Haue you your wits?
Know you what 'tis you speake?
Falst. My King, my Ioue; I speake to thee, my heart.
King. I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy Prayers:
I haue long dream'd
of such a kinde of man,
So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so prophane:
But being awake, I do despise my dreame.
Make lesse thy body (hence) and more thy Grace,
Leaue gourmandizing; Know the Graue doth gape
For thee, thrice wider then for other men.
Reply not to me, with a Foole-borne Iest,
Presume not, that I am the thing I was,
For heauen doth know (so shall the world perceiue)
So will I those that kept me Companie.
When thou dost heare I am, as I haue bin,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou was't
The Tutor and the Feeder of my Riots:
Till then, I banish thee, on paine of death,
As I haue done the rest of my Misleaders,
Not to come neere our Person, by ten mile.
For competence of life, I will allow you,
That lacke of meanes enforce you not to euill:
We will according to your strength, and qualities,
Giue you aduancement. Be it your charge (my Lord)
To see perform'd the tenure of our word. Set on.
Exit King.
Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.
Shal. I marry Sir Iohn, which I beseech you to let me
haue home with me.
Fal. That can hardly be, M. Shallow, do not you grieue
at this: I shall be sent for in priuate to him: Looke you,
ment: I will be the man yet, that shall make you great.
Shal. I cannot well perceiue how, vnlesse you should
giue me your Doublet, and stuffe me out with Straw. I
beseech you, good Sir Iohn, let mee haue fiue hundred of
my thousand.
Fal. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you
heard, was but a colour.
Shall. A colour I feare, that you will dye in, Sir Iohn.
Fal. Feare no colours, go with me to dinner:
I shall be sent for soone at night.
Ch.Iust. Go carry Sir Iohn Falstaffe to the Fleete,
Take all his Company along with him.
Fal. My Lord, my Lord.
Ch.Iust. I cannot now speake, I will heare you soone:
Take them away.
Pist. Si fortuna me tormento, spera me contento.
Exit. Manet Lancaster and
Chiefe Iustice.
Iohn. I like this faire proceeding of the Kings:
Shall all be very well prouided for:
But all are banisht, till their conuersations
Appeare more wise, and modest to the world.
Ch.Iust. And so they are.
Iohn. The King hath call'd his Parliament,
My Lord.
Ch.Iust. He hath.
Iohn. I will lay oddes, that ere this yeere expire,
We beare our Ciuill Swords, and Natiue fire
Whose Musicke (to my thinking) pleas'd the King.
Come, will you hence? Exeunt
[Henry the Fourth, Part Two (Folio) Epilogue]
My Feare, is your Displeasure: My Curtsie, my Dutie:
And my speech, to Begge your Pardons. If you looke for a
good speech now, you vndoe me: For what I haue to say, is
of mine owne making: and what (indeed) I should say, will
and so to the Venture. Be it knowne to you (as it is very
well) I was lately heere in the end of a displeasing Play, to pray your
Patience
for it, and to promise you a Better: I did meane (indeede) to pay you with
this,
which if (like an ill Venture) it come vnluckily home, I breake; and you, my
gen-
tle Creditors lose. Heere I promist you I would be, and heere I commit
my Bodie
to your Mercies: Bate me some, and I will pay you some, and (as most Debtors
do)
promise you infinitely.
If my Tongue cannot entreate you to acquit me: will you command me to vse
my Legges? And yet that were but light payment, to Dance out of your debt:
But
tlewomen heere haue forgiuen me, if the Gentlemen will not, then the
Gentlemen
do not agree with the Gentlewomen, which was neuer seene before, in such an
As-
sembly.
One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too much cloid with Fat Meate,
our humble Author will continue the Story (with Sir Iohn in it) and
make you
merry, with faire Katherine of France: where (for any thing I
know) Fal-
staffe shall dye of a sweat, vnlesse already he be kill'd with your hard
Opinions:
For Old-Castle dyed a Martyr, and this is not the man. My Tongue is
wearie
when my Legs are too, I will bid you good night; and so kneele downe before
you:
© Internet Shakespeare Editions, last revision 23 January 2000. Please report any errors to Michael Best. This text may freely be used for educational, non-profit purposes.