The horse he rode on: and, upon my life, Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. Enter MORTON. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood Hath left a witness'd usurpation.Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask, To fright our party. North. How doth my son, and brother? Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd: But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue, Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas; North. Why, he is dead. See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! Tell thou thy earl, his divination lies; I see a strange confession in thine eye: To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, cester Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword Had three times slain the appearance of the king, 'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame Of those that turn'd their backs; and, in his flight, Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all mourn. In poison there is physic; and these news, Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice crutch; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif; Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, 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! Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not nature's hand Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die! Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er To stormy passion, must perforce decay. Let us make head. It was your presurmise, Yet did you say,-Go forth; and none of this, Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss, I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,- This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, stones : Derives from heaven his quarrel, and his cause; This present grief had wip'd it from my mind. SCENE II.-London. A street. Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water: but, for the party that owed it, he might have more diseases than he knew for. Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to vent any thing, that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate till now: but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him.-What said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak, and slops? Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security!-The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon-security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own Get posts, and letters, and make friends with lantern to light him.-Where's Bardolph ? speed; Never so few, and never yet more need. [Exeunt. Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse. Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me 502 but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendant. Fal. Wait close, I will not see him. Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again. Atten. Sir John Falstaff! Fal Boy, tell him I am deaf. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.-Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. Atten. Sir John,— Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. Atten. You mistake me, sir. Fal. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat, if I had said SO. Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man. [ACT I. Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty :-You would not come when I sent for you. fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy. Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is let me speak with you. Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling. Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is. from study, and perturbation of the brain: I ease; for you hear not what I say to you. Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, amend the attention of your ears; and I care Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels, would not if I do become your physician. Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord: but not tion of punishment to me, in respect of poverty; so patient: your lordship may minister the poprescriptions, the wise may make some dram of but how I should be your patient to follow your a scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself. Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did Fal. As I was then advised by my learned not come. Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, sir John, you live in great infamy. Fal. He, that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. means were greater, and my waist slenderer. Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that, which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged: You hunt-count-prince. er, hence! avaunt! Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord!God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard say, your lordship was sick: I hope, your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend health. your Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. care of Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. healed wound; your day's service at Shrews- Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf.. Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad as to smell a fox. Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt out. If I did say of wax, my growth would approve Fal. A wassel candle, my lord; all tallow: the truth. Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face, but should have his effect of gravity. Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but, I hope, he, that looks upon me, will take me without weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell: virtue is of so little regard in these coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bear-herd: Pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts, appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, consider not the capacities of us that are young: you measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we, that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too. Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself young? Fye, fye, fye, sir John! Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice,-I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he, that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him. For the box o'the ear that the prince gave you,―he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it; and the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes, and sackcloth; but in new silk, and old sack. Ch. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better companion! Fal. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him. Ch. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and prince Harry: I hear, you are going with lord John of Lancaster, against the archbishop, and the earl of Northumberland. Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day! for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it: Well, I cannot last ever: But it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God, my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; And God bless your expedition! Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, to furnish me forth? Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny; you are. too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. [Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant. Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle.-A man can no more separate age and covetousness, than he can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees. prevent my curses.-Boy!Page. Sir? Fal. What money is in my purse? Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.Go bear this letter to my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin: About it; you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of this gout! or a gout of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable: a good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. [Erit. SCENE III.-York. A room in the Archbishop's ' palace. Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH. Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and known our means; Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file To five and twenty thousand men of choice; And our supplies live largely in the hope Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns With an incensed fire of injuries. Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, stand eth thus ; Whether our present five and twenty thousand May hold up head without Northumberland. Hást. With him, we may. Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point; But if without him we be thought too feeble, My judgment is, we should not step too far Till we had his assistance by the hand: For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this, Conjecture, expectation, and surmise Of aids uncertain, should not be admitted. Arch. "Tis very true, lord Bardolph; for, indeed, It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. Bard. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope. Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war;Indeed the instant action, (a cause on foot,) Lives so in hope, as in an early spring We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit, Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair, That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; To build at all? Much more, in this great work, (Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down, Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth,) Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd I think, we are a body strong enough, Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Arch. That he should draw his several strengths And come against us in full puissance, Hast. If he should do so, He leaves 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? Hast. The duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland: Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth: But who is substituted 'gainst the French, Arch. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. broke, Before he was what thou would'st have him be? They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die, Are now become enamour'd on his grave: Cry'st now, O earth, yield us that king again, worst. |