He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and cakes. A captain! these villains will make the frights. So; murder, I warrant now.--Alas, word captain as odious as the word occupy; which alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your was an excellent good word before it was ill-sort-naked weapons. [Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph. ed: therefore, captains had need look to it. Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Pist. Not I: tell thee what, corporal Bar- I could tear her :-I'll be revenged on her. Pist. I'll see her damned first ;-to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down! down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not Hiren here ?2 Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet; it is very late, i'faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. Pist. These be good humours, indeed! pack-horses, Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you Host. Are you not hurt i'the groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Re-enter Bardolph. Fal. Have you turned him out of doors? Bard. Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, sir, in the shoulder. Fal. A rascal! to brave me! Doll. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe rogue! i'faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as thy face;-come on, you whoreson chops :-Ah, Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten Shall times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain! Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket. And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire: Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: What! we have seen the seven stars. Doll. Thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal. Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags ? Dell. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter music. Page. The music is come, sir. knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue Fal. Let them play;-Play, sirs.-Sit on my fled from me like quicksilver. Doll. I'faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o'days, and foining o'nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised like drawers. Fal. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's head: do not bid me remember mine end. Doll. Sirrah, what humour is the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow he would have made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread well. Doll. They say, Poins has a good wit. Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard: there is no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet. Doll. Why does the prince love him so then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness: and he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dra gons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove- jumps upon joint-stools; and swears with a good groat shilling: nay, if he do nothing but speak grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto nothing, he shall be nothing here. Bard. Come, get you down stairs. Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Doll. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. [Drawing, and driving Pistol out. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off? Poins. Let's beat him before his whore. P. Hen. Look, if the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot. Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many years outlive performance? Fal. Kiss me, Doll. P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanac to that? Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon,' his where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For man, be not lisping to his master's old tables; his the boy,-there is a good angel about him; but note-book, his counsel-keeper. the devil outbids him too. Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Doll. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart. Fal. I am old, I am old. Doll. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all. P. Hen. For the women, Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns, poor soul! For the other,-I owe her money; and whether she be damned for that, I know not. Host. No, I warrant you. Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle? of? I shall Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art receive money on Thursday: thou shalt have a cap quit for that: Marry, there is another indictment to-morrow. A merry song, come: it grows late, upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me, when I am gone. house, contrary to the law; for the which, I think, Doll. By my troth, thou'lt set me a weeping, an thou wilt howl. thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.--Well, hearken the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis. P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's-And art not thou Poins his brother? P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead? Fal. A better than thou; I am a gentleman, thou art a drawer. P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears. Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London.--Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales? Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome. [Leaning his hand upon Doll. Host. All victuallers do so: What's a joint of Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels Enter Peto. P. Hen. Peto, how now? what news? P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to So idly to profane the precious time; blame, Doll. How! you fat fool, I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt, When tempest of commotion, like the south, revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you' take not the heat. And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword, and cloak:-Falstaff, good P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you; how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman? Host. 'Blessing o'your good heart! and so she is, by my troth. Fal. Didst thou hear me? I P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gads-hill: you knew, was at your back; and spoke it on purpose to try my patience. Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing. night. [Exe. P. Henry, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. |[Knocking heard.] More knocking at the door? Re-enter Bardolph. How now? what's the matter? Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you. Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah. To the Page.]Farewell, hostess;-Farewell, Doll.-You see, my P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honour; no abuse. is called on. Farewell, good wenches: If I be not P. Hen. Not! to dispraise me; and call me-sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse! Doll. I cannot speak ;-If my heart be not ready to burst:-Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Fal. Farewell, farewell. [Exe. Fal. and Bard. Fal. No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but wicked might not fall in love with him:--in which an honester, and truer-hearted man,-Well, fare doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and thee well. a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, boys, none. Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tear-sheet,— Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come Host. O run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. [Ere. P. Hen. See, now, whether pure fear, and en-to my master. tire cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is the boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked? Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. ACT III. Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph ir-SCENE I-A room in the palace. Enter King recoverable and his face is Lucifer's privy kitchen, (1) An astronomical term. (2) A short cloak, But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber; And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? Enter Warwick and Surrey. War. Many good morrows to your majesty! K. Hen. Why then, good morrow to you all, my Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you? K. Hen. Then you perceive, the body of our How foul it is; what rank diseases grow, War. It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd; My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd. And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock, Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends, (1) Noise. [To Warwick. (2) Those in lowly situations. When Richard,with his eye orimfull of tears, War. There is a history in all men's lives, King Richard might create a perfect guess, K. Hen. Are these things then necessities? War. To comfort you the more, I have receiv'd Unto your sickness. K. Hen. I will take your counsel: And, were these inward wars once out of hand, We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. [Exe. SCENE II-Court before Justice Shallow's house, in Gloucestershire. Enter Shallow and Silence, meeting; Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf, and servants, behind. Shal. Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, sir, give me 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 Ellen? Sil. Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow. Shal. By yea and nay, sir, I dare say, my cousin William is become a good scholar: He is at Oxford still, is he not? Sil. Indeed, sir, to my cost. Shal. He must then to the inns of courts shortly: I was once of Clement's-Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet. Sil. You were called-lusty Shallow, then, cousin. Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing, indeed, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, (3) Cross. and Will Squele, a Cotswold man,-you had not sir John.-Give me your good hand, give me your four such swing-bucklers' in all the inns of court worship's good hand: By my troth, you look well, again and I may say to you, we knew where the and bear your years very well: welcome, good sir bona-robas2 were; and had the best of them all at John. commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now sir John, a boy; and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk. Sil. This sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers? Shal. The same sir John, the very same. I saw him break Skogan's head at the court-gate, when he was a crack,' not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's-Inn. O, the mad-days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintances are dead! Sil. We shall all follow, cousin. Shal. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure: death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? Sil. Truly, cousin, I was not there. Shal. Death is certain.-Is old Double of your town living yet? Sil. Dead, sir. Fal. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow:-Master Sure-card, as I think. Shal. No, sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me. Ful. Good master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace. Sil. Your good worship is welcome. Fal. Fie! this is hot weather.-Gentlemen, have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men? Shal. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit? Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's Moul. Here, an't please you. Shal. What think you, sir John? a good-limbed fellow: young, strong, and of good friends. Fal. Is thy name Mouldy? Moul. Yea, an't please you. Shal. Dead!-See, see!-he drew a good bow ;And dead-he shot a fine shoot:-John of Gaunt Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. loved him well, and betted much money on his Shal. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i'faith! things head. Dead! he would have clapped i'the clout that are mouldy, lack use: Very singular good!at twelve score; and carried you a forehand shaft In faith, well said, sir John; very well said. a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would Fal. Prick him. [To Shallow. have done a man's heart good to see.-How a score Moul. I was pricked well enough before, an you of ewes now? could have let me alone: my old dame will be undone now, for one to do her husbandry, and her drudgery: you need not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter to go out than I. Sil. Thereafter as they be: a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds. Shal. And is old Double dead? Enter Bardolph, and one with him. Sil. Here come two of sir John Falstaff's men, as I think. Bard. Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I beseech you, which is justice Shallow? Shal. I'am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this county, and one of the king's justices of the peace: What is your good pleasure with me? Bard. My captain, sir, commends him to you: my captain, sir John Falstaff: a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader. Shal. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good backsword man: How doth the good knight? may I ask, how my lady his wife doth? Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated, than with a wife. Shal. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well Fal. Go to; peace, Mouldy, you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent. Moul. Spent! Shal. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; Know you where you are?-For the other, sir John:-let me see;- -Simon Shadow! Fal. Ay marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier. Shal. Where's Shadow? Shad. Here, sir. Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou? Fal. Thy mother's son! like enough; and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: It is often so, indeed; but not much of the father's substance. Shal. Do you like him, sir John? Fel. Shadow will serve for summer,-prick him; said, indeed, too. Better accommodated!-it is-for we have a number of shadows to fill up the good; yea, indeed, it is: good phrases are surely, muster-book. and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated!-it comes from accommodo: very good; a good phrase. Bard. Pardon me, sir; I have heard the word. Phrase, call you it? By this good day, I know not the phrase: but I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated: or, when a man is,-being,-whereby, he may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing. Enter Falstaff. Shal. Thomas Wart! Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart. Fal. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins prick him no more. Shal. Ha, ha, ha!-you can do it, sir; you can do it: I commend you well.-Francis Feeble! Fee. Here, sir. Fal. What trade art thou, Feeble? Shal. It is very just:-Look, here comes good Fee. A woman's tailor, sir. (1) Rakes, or rioters. (2) Ladies of pleasure. (3) Boy. (4) Hit the white mark at twelve score yards. (5) Brave. Shal. Shall I prick him, sir? Bull. Good master corporate Bardolph, stand Fal. You may but if he had been a man's tailor, my friend; and here is four Harry ten shillings in he would have pricked you.—Wilt thou make as French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I had many holes in an enemy's battle, as thou hast done as lief be hanged, sir, as go: and yet, for mine in a woman's petticoat? Fee. I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more. Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse.Prick the woman's tailor well, master Shallow; deep, master Shallow. Fee. I would, Wart might have gone, sir. Fal. I would, thou wert a man's tailor; that thou might'st mend him, and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private soldier, that is the leader] own part, sir, I do not care; but, rather, because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my friends; else, sir, I did not care, for mine own part, so much. Bard. Go to; stand aside. Moul. And, good master corporal captain, for my old dame's sake, stand my friend: she has nobody to do any thing about her, when I am gone: and she is old, and cannot help herself: you shall have forty, sir. Bard. Go to; stand aside. Fee. By my troth, I care not;-a man can die of so many thousands: Let that suflice, most for- but once; we owe God a death;-I'll ne'er bear cible Feeble. a base mind:-an't be my destiny, so;-an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince; Feeble.-and, let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next. Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow!-Come, prick the Bull-calf, till he roar again. Bull. O lord! good my lord captain. F. What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked? Bull. A whoreson cold, sir; a cough, sir; which 1 caught with ringing in the king's affairs, upon his coronation day, sir. Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown; we will have away thy cold; and I will take such order, that thy friends shall ring for thee.-Is here all? Bard. Well said; thou'rt a good fellow. Re-enter Falstaff, and Justices. Fal. Come, sir, which men shall I have? Bard. Sir, a word with you:-I have three pound to free Mouldy and Bull-calf. Fal. Go to; well. Shal. Come, sir John, which four will you have? Shal. Marry then,-Mouldy, Bull-calf, Feeble, and Shadow. Fal. Mouldy, and Bull-calf:-For you, Mouldy, stay at home still; you are past service: and, for your part, Bull-calf-grow till you come unto it; Shal. Here is two more called than your num-I will none of you. ber; you must have but four here, sir ;-and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner. Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, in good troth, master Shallow. Shal. O, sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in St. George's-fields? Fal. No more of that, good master Shallow, no more of that. Shal. Ha, it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive? Fal. She lives, master Shailow. Shal. She never could away with me. could not abide master Shallow. Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well? Fal. Old, old, master Shallow. Shal. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old; certain, she's old; and had Robin Night-work by ld Night-work, before I came to Clement's-Inn. Sil. That's fifty-five year ago. Shal. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this knight and I have seen!-Ha, sir John, said I well? Shal. Sir John, sir John, do not yourself wrong: they are your likeliest men, and I would have you served with the best. Fal. Will you tell me, master Shallow, how to choose a man? Care I for the limb, the thewes, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit, master Shallow.-Here's Wart;you see what a ragged appearance it is: he shall charge you, and discharge you, with the motion of a pewterer's hammer; come off, and on, swifter than he that gibbets-on the brewer's bucket. And this same half-fac'd fellow, Shadow,-give me this man: he presents no mark to the enemy: the focman' may with as great aim level at the edge of a pen-knife: And, for a retreat,-how swiftly will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off! O, give me the spare men, and spare me the great ones.Put me a caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph. Bard. Hold, Wart, traversc;3 thus, thus, thus. Fal. Come, manage me your caliver. So:-very well:-go to:-very good:-exceeding good.-0, give me always a little, lean, old, chapped, bald shot.-Well said, i'faith, Wart; thou art a good scab: hold, there's a tester for thee. Shal. He is not his craft's-master, he doth not do it right. I remember at Mile-end green (when I lay at Clement's-Inn,-I was then sir Dagonet, in Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight, Arthur's show,) there was a little quiver fellow, master Shallow. and 'a would manage you his piece thus: and 'a Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have; would about, and about, and come you in, and in faith, sir John, we have; our watch-word was, come you in: rah, tah, tah, would 'a say; bounce, Hem, boys!-Come, let's to dinner; come, let's would 'a say; and away again would 'a go, and to dinner:-0, the days that we have seen!-again would 'a come:-I shall never see such a Come, come. [Exe. Falstaff, Shallow, and Silence. fellow. (1) Enemy. (2) Gun. (3) March, (4) Shooter. (5) An exhibition of archery |