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The Second Part of Henry the Fourth by William Shakespeare

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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?
Enter Bardolph and his Boy.

Sil. Heere come two of Sir Iohn Falstaffes Men (as I
Shal. Good-morrow, honest Gentlemen

Bard. I beseech you, which is Iustice Shallow?
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?
Bard. Sir, pardon: a Souldier is better accommodated,
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 commendable.
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
Souldier-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 thought to be accommodated, which is an
excellent thing.
Enter Falstaffe.

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

Fal. I am glad to see you well, good M[aster]. Robert Shallow:
Master Sure-card as I thinke?
Shal. No sir Iohn, it is my Cosin Silence: in Commission
with mee

Fal. Good M[aster]. 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?
Fal. Let me see them, I beseech you

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
Moul. Heere, if it please you

Shal. What thinke you (Sir Iohn) a good limb'd fellow:
yong, strong, and of good friends

Fal. Is thy name Mouldie?
Moul. Yea, if it please you

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert vs'd

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, most excellent. Things that are mouldie,
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
out, then I

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

Fal. I marry, let me haue him to sit vnder: he's like to
be a cold souldier

Shal. Where's Shadow?
Shad. Heere sir

Fal. Shadow, whose sonne art thou?
Shad. My Mothers sonne, Sir

Falst. Thy Mothers sonne: like enough, and thy Fathers
shadow: so the sonne of the Female, is the shadow
of the Male: it is often so indeede, but not of the Fathers

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-Booke

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 vpon
his backe, and the whole frame stands vpon pins: prick
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:
But if he had beene a mans Taylor, he would haue prick'd
you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemies Battaile,
as thou hast done in a Womans petticote?
Feeble. I will doe my good will sir, you can haue no

Falst. Well said, good Womans Tailour: Well sayde
Couragious Feeble: thou wilt bee as valiant as the wrathfull
Doue, or most magnanimous Mouse. Pricke the womans
Taylour well Master Shallow, deepe Maister Shallow

Feeble. I would Wart might haue gone sir

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 thousands.
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

Bul. Heere sir

Fal. Trust me, a likely Fellow. Come, pricke me Bulcalfe
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

Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the Warres in a Gowne:
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

Shal. O sir Iohn, doe you remember since wee lay all
night in the Winde-mill, in S[aint]. Georges Field

Falstaffe. No more of that good Master Shallow: No
more of that

Shal. Ha? it was a merry night. And is Iane Nightworke
Fal. She liues, M[aster]. Shallow

Shal. She neuer could away with me

Fal. Neuer, neuer: she would alwayes say shee could
not abide M[aster]. Shallow

Shal. I could anger her to the heart: shee was then a
Bona-Roba. Doth she hold her owne well

Fal. Old, old, M[aster]. 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
Falst. Wee haue heard the Chymes at mid-night, Master

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
part, haue a desire to stay with my friends: else, sir, I did
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 destinie,
so: if it be not, so: no man is too good to serue his
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

Shal. Come, sir Iohn, which foure will you haue?
Falst. Doe you chuse for me

Shal. Marry then, Mouldie, Bull-calfe, Feeble, and

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

Falst. Will you tell me (Master Shallow) how to chuse
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 Hammer:
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
the edge of a Pen-knife: and for a Retrait, how swiftly
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
it right. I remember at Mile-end-Greene, when I lay
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
you: fare you well, Gentlemen both: I thanke you:
I must a dozen mile to night. Bardolph, giue the Souldiers

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: peraduenture
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

Falst. Fare you well, gentle Gentlemen. On Bardolph,
leade the men away. As I returne, I will fetch off
these Iustices: I doe see the bottome of Iustice Shallow.
How subiect wee old men are to this vice of Lying?
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
hee was naked, hee was, for all the world, like a forked
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.
I saw it, and told Iohn of Gaunt, hee beat his owne
Name, for you might haue truss'd him and all his Apparrell
into an Eele-skinne: the Case of a Treble Hoeboy
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.


Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Arch-bishop, Mowbray, Hastings, Westmerland,

Bish. What is this Forrest call'd?
Hast. 'Tis Gaultree Forrest, and't shall please your

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.
My Friends, and Brethren (in these great Affaires)
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,
And fearefull meeting of their Opposite

Mow. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,
And dash themselues to pieces.
Enter a Messenger.

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.
Let vs sway-on, and face them in the field.
Enter Westmerland.

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
The substance of my Speech. If that Rebellion
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 Sea is by a Ciuill Peace maintain'd,
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
To a lowd Trumpet, and a Point of Warre

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,
Troope in the Throngs of Militarie men:
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,
By the rough Torrent of Occasion,
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
With yet appearing blood; and the examples
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
Of forg'd Rebellion, with a Seale diuine?
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,
Construe the Times to their Necessities,
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,
That need to be reuiu'd, and breath'd in me?
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
My Father from the Breast of Bullingbrooke;
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?
But if your Father had beene Victor there,
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
It shall appeare, that your demands are iust,
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 Battaile is more full of Names then yours,
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,
To heare, and absolutely to determine
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,
And present execution of our wills,
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

Mow. There is a thing within my Bosome tells me,
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:
That were our Royall faiths, Martyrs in Loue,
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,
That may repeat, and Historie his losse,
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,
And hangs resolu'd Correction in the Arme,
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,
Our Peace, will (like a broken Limbe vnited)
Grow stronger, for the breaking

Mow. Be it so:
Heere is return'd my Lord of Westmerland.
Enter Westmerland.

West. The Prince is here at hand: pleaseth your Lordship
To meet his Grace, iust distance 'tweene our Armies?
Mow. Your Grace of Yorke, in heauen's name then

Bish. Before, and greet his Grace (my Lord) we come.
Enter Prince Iohn.

Iohn. You are wel encountred here (my cosin Mowbray)
Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop,
And so to you Lord Hastings, and to all.
My Lord of Yorke, it better shew'd with you,
When that your Flocke (assembled by the Bell)
Encircled you, to heare with reuerence
Your exposition on the holy Text,
Then now to see you heere an Iron man
Chearing a rowt of Rebels with your Drumme,
Turning the Word, to Sword; and Life to death:
That man that sits within a Monarches heart,
And ripens in the Sunne-shine of his fauor,
Would hee abuse the Countenance of the King,
Alack, what Mischiefes might hee set abroach,
In shadow of such Greatnesse? With you, Lord Bishop,
It is euen so. Who hath not heard it spoken,
How deepe you were within the Bookes of Heauen?
To vs, the Speaker in his Parliament;
To vs, th' imagine Voyce of Heauen it selfe:
The very Opener, and Intelligencer,
Betweene the Grace, the Sanctities of Heauen;
And our dull workings. O, who shall beleeue,
But you mis-vse the reuerence of your Place,
Employ the Countenance, and Grace of Heauen,
As a false Fauorite doth his Princes Name,
In deedes dis-honorable? You haue taken vp,
Vnder the counterfeited Zeale of Heauen,
The Subiects of Heauens Substitute, my Father,
And both against the Peace of Heauen, and him,
Haue here vp-swarmed them

Bish. Good my Lord of Lancaster,
I am not here against your Fathers Peace:
But (as I told my Lord of Westmerland)
The Time (mis-order'd) doth in common sence
Crowd vs, and crush vs, to this monstrous Forme,
To hold our safetie vp. I sent your Grace
The parcels, and particulars of our Griefe,
The which hath been with scorne shou'd from the Court:
Whereon this Hydra-Sonne of Warre is borne,
Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleepe,
With graunt of our most iust and right desires;
And true Obedience, of this Madnesse cur'd,
Stoope tamely to the foot of Maiestie

Mow. If not, wee readie are to trye our fortunes,
To the last man

Hast. And though wee here fall downe,
Wee haue Supplyes, to second our Attempt:
If they mis-carry, theirs shall second them.
And so, successe of Mischiefe shall be borne,
And Heire from Heire shall hold this Quarrell vp,
Whiles England shall haue generation

Iohn. You are too shallow (Hastings)
Much too shallow,
To sound the bottome of the after-Times

West. Pleaseth your Grace, to answere them directly,
How farre-forth you doe like their Articles

Iohn. I like them all, and doe allow them well:
And sweare here, by the honor of my blood,
My Fathers purposes haue beene mistooke,
And some, about him, haue too lauishly
Wrested his meaning, and Authoritie.
My Lord, these Griefes shall be with speed redrest:
Vpon my Life, they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your Powers vnto their seuerall Counties,
As wee will ours: and here, betweene the Armies,
Let's drinke together friendly, and embrace,
That all their eyes may beare those Tokens home,
Of our restored Loue, and Amitie

Bish. I take your Princely word, for these redresses

Iohn. I giue it you, and will maintaine my word:
And thereupon I drinke vnto your Grace

Hast. Goe Captaine, and deliuer to the Armie
This newes of Peace: let them haue pay, and part:
I know, it will well please them.
High thee Captaine.

Bish. To you, my Noble Lord of Westmerland

West. I pledge your Grace:
And if you knew what paines I haue bestow'd,
To breede this present Peace,
You would drinke freely: but my loue to ye,
Shall shew it selfe more openly hereafter

Bish. I doe not doubt you

West. I am glad of it.
Health to my Lord, and gentle Cousin Mowbray

Mow. You wish me health in very happy season,
For I am, on the sodaine, something ill

Bish. Against ill Chances, men are euer merry,
But heauinesse fore-runnes the good euent

West. Therefore be merry (Cooze) since sodaine sorrow
Serues to say thus: some good thing comes to morrow

Bish. Beleeue me, I am passing light in spirit

Mow. So much the worse, if your owne Rule be true

Iohn. The word of Peace is render'd: hearke how
they showt

Mow. This had been chearefull, after Victorie

Bish. A Peace is of the nature of a Conquest:
For then both parties nobly are subdu'd,
And neither partie looser

Iohn. Goe (my Lord)
And let our Army be discharged too:
And good my Lord (so please you) let our Traines
March by vs, that wee may peruse the men

Wee should haue coap'd withall

Bish. Goe, good Lord Hastings:
And ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.

Iohn. I trust (Lords) wee shall lye to night together.
Enter Westmerland.

Now Cousin, wherefore stands our Army still?
West. The Leaders hauing charge from you to stand,
Will not goe off, vntill they heare you speake

Iohn. They know their duties.
Enter Hastings.

Hast. Our Army is dispers'd:
Like youthfull Steeres, vnyoak'd, they tooke their course
East, West, North, South: or like a Schoole, broke vp,
Each hurryes towards his home, and sporting place

West. Good tidings (my Lord Hastings) for the which,
I doe arrest thee (Traytor) of high Treason:
And you Lord Arch-bishop, and you Lord Mowbray,
Of Capitall Treason, I attach you both

Mow. Is this proceeding iust, and honorable?
West. Is your Assembly so?
Bish. Will you thus breake your faith?
Iohn. I pawn'd thee none:
I promis'd you redresse of these same Grieuances
Whereof you did complaine; which, by mine Honor,
I will performe, with a most Christian care.
But for you (Rebels) looke to taste the due
Meet for Rebellion, and such Acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these Armes commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.
Strike vp our Drummes, pursue the scatter'd stray,
Heauen, and not wee, haue safely fought to day.
Some guard these Traitors to the Block of Death,
Treasons true Bed, and yeelder vp of breath.


Enter Falstaffe and Colleuile.

Falst. What's your Name, Sir? of what Condition are
you? and of what place, I pray?
Col. I am a Knight, Sir:
And my Name is Colleuile of the Dale

Falst. Well then, Colleuile is your Name, a Knight is
your Degree, and your Place, the Dale. Colleuile shall
still be your Name, a Traytor your Degree, and the Dungeon
your Place, a place deepe enough: so shall you be
still Colleuile of the Dale

Col. Are not you Sir Iohn Falstaffe?
Falst. As good a man as he sir, who ere I am: doe yee
yeelde sir, or shall I sweate for you? if I doe sweate, they
are the drops of thy Louers, and they weep for thy death,
therefore rowze vp Feare and Trembling, and do obseruance
to my mercy

Col. I thinke you are Sir Iohn Falstaffe, & in that thought
yeeld me

Fal. I haue a whole Schoole of tongues in this belly of
mine, and not a Tongue of them all, speakes anie other
word but my name: and I had but a belly of any indifferencie,
I were simply the most actiue fellow in Europe:
my wombe, my wombe, my wombe vndoes mee. Heere
comes our Generall.
Enter Prince Iohn, and Westmerland.

Iohn. The heat is past, follow no farther now:
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 Arrow,
or a Bullet? Haue I, in my poore and olde Motion,
the expedition of Thought? I haue speeded hither with
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 deseruing

Falst. I know not: heere hee is, and heere I yeeld
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 Element
(which shew like Pinnes-heads to her) beleeue not
the Word of the Noble: therefore let mee haue right,
and let desert mount

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

Col. I am (my Lord) but as my Betters are,
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.
Enter Westmerland.

Iohn. Haue you left pursuit?
West. Retreat is made, and Execution stay'd

Iohn. Send Colleuile, with his Confederates,
To Yorke, to present Execution.
Blunt, leade him hence, and see you guard him sure.

Exit with Colleuile.

And now dispatch we toward the Court (my Lords)
I heare the King, my Father, is sore sicke.
Our Newes shall goe before vs, to his Maiestie,
Which (Cousin) you shall beare, to comfort him:
And wee with sober speede will follow you

Falst. My Lord, I beseech you, giue me leaue to goe
through Gloucestershire: and when you come to Court,
stand my good Lord, 'pray, in your good report

Iohn. Fare you well, Falstaffe: I, in my condition,
Shall better speake of you, then you deserue.

Falst. I would you had but the wit: 'twere better
then your Dukedome. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded
Boy doth not loue me, nor a man cannot
make him laugh: but that's no maruaile, hee drinkes no
Wine. There's neuer any of these demure Boyes come
to any proofe: for thinne Drinke doth so ouer-coole
their blood, and making many Fish-Meales, that they
fall into a kinde of Male Greene-sicknesse: and then,
when they marry, they get Wenches. They are generally
Fooles, and Cowards; which some of vs should be too,
but for inflamation. A good Sherris-Sack hath a two-fold
operation in it: it ascends me into the Braine, dryes
me there all the foolish, and dull, and cruddie Vapours,
which enuiron it: makes it apprehensiue, quicke, forgetiue,
full of nimble, fierie, and delectable shapes; which
deliuer'd o're to the Voyce, the Tongue, which is the
Birth, becomes excellent Wit. The second propertie of
your excellent Sherris, is, the warming of the Blood:
which before (cold, and setled) left the Liuer white, and
pale; which is the Badge of Pusillanimitie, and Cowardize:
but the Sherris warmes it, and makes it course
from the inwards, to the parts extremes: it illuminateth
the Face, which (as a Beacon) giues warning to all the
rest of this little Kingdome (Man) to Arme: and then
the Vitall Commoners, and in-land pettie Spirits, muster
me all to their Captaine, the Heart; who great, and pufft
vp with his Retinue, doth any Deed of Courage: and this
Valour comes of Sherris. So, that skill in the Weapon
is nothing, without Sack (for that sets it a-worke:) and
Learning, a meere Hoord of Gold, kept by a Deuill, till
Sack commences it, and sets it in act, and vse. Hereof
comes it, that Prince Harry is valiant: for the cold blood
hee did naturally inherite of his Father, hee hath, like
leane, stirrill, and bare Land, manured, husbanded, and
tyll'd, with excellent endeauour of drinking good, and
good store of fertile Sherris, that hee is become very hot,
and valiant. If I had a thousand Sonnes, the first Principle
I would teach them, should be to forsweare thinne Potations,
and to addict themselues to Sack.
Enter Bardolph.

How now Bardolph?
Bard. The Armie is discharged all, and gone

Falst. Let them goe: Ile through Gloucestershire,
and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire: I
haue him alreadie tempering betweene my finger and my
thombe, and shortly will I seale with him. Come away.


Scena Secunda.

Enter King, Warwicke, Clarence, Gloucester.

King. Now Lords, if Heauen doth giue successefull end
To this Debate, that bleedeth at our doores,
Wee will our Youth lead on to higher Fields,
And draw no Swords, but what are sanctify'd.
Our Nauie is addressed, our Power collected,
Our Substitutes, in absence, well inuested,
And euery thing lyes leuell to our wish;
Onely wee want a little personall Strength:
And pawse vs, till these Rebels, now a-foot,
Come vnderneath the yoake of Gouernment

War. Both which we doubt not, but your Maiestie
Shall soone enioy

King. Humphrey (my Sonne of Gloucester) where is
the Prince, your Brother?
Glo. I thinke hee's gone to hunt (my Lord) at Windsor

King. And how accompanied?
Glo. I doe not know (my Lord.)
King. Is not his Brother, Thomas of Clarence, with
Glo. No (my good Lord) hee is in presence heere

Clar. What would my Lord, and Father?
King. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
How chance thou art not with the Prince, thy Brother?
Hee loues thee, and thou do'st neglect him (Thomas.)
Thou hast a better place in his Affection,
Then all thy Brothers: cherish it (my Boy)
And Noble Offices thou may'st effect
Of Mediation (after I am dead)
Betweene his Greatnesse, and thy other Brethren.
Therefore omit him not: blunt not his Loue,
Nor loose the good aduantage of his Grace,
By seeming cold, or carelesse of his will.
For hee is gracious, if hee be obseru'd:
Hee hath a Teare for Pitie, and a Hand
Open (as Day) for melting Charitie:
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, hee's Flint,
As humorous as Winter, and as sudden,
As Flawes congealed in the Spring of day.
His temper therefore must be well obseru'd:
Chide him for faults, and doe it reuerently,
When you perceiue his blood enclin'd to mirth:
But being moodie, giue him Line, and scope,
Till that his passions (like a Whale on ground)
Confound themselues with working. Learne this Thomas,
And thou shalt proue a shelter to thy friends,
A Hoope of Gold, to binde thy Brothers in:
That the vnited Vessell of their Blood
(Mingled with Venome of Suggestion,
As force, perforce, the Age will powre it in)
Shall neuer leake, though it doe worke as strong
As Aconitum, or rash Gun-powder

Clar. I shall obserue him with all care, and loue

King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him (Thomas?)
Clar. Hee is not there to day: hee dines in London

King. And how accompanyed? Canst thou tell
Clar. With Pointz, and other his continuall followers

King. Most subiect is the fattest Soyle to Weedes:
And hee (the Noble Image of my Youth)
Is ouer-spread with them: therefore my griefe
Stretches it selfe beyond the howre of death.
The blood weepes from my heart, when I doe shape
(In formes imaginarie) th' vnguided Dayes,
And rotten Times, that you shall looke vpon,
When I am sleeping with my Ancestors.
For when his head-strong Riot hath no Curbe,
When Rage and hot-Blood are his Counsailors,
When Meanes and lauish Manners meete together;
Oh, with what Wings shall his Affections flye
Towards fronting Perill, and oppos'd Decay?
War. My gracious Lord, you looke beyond him quite:
The Prince but studies his Companions,
Like a strange Tongue: wherein, to gaine the Language,
'Tis needfull, that the most immodest word
Be look'd vpon, and learn'd: which once attayn'd,
Your Highnesse knowes, comes to no farther vse,
But to be knowne, and hated. So, like grosse termes,
The Prince will, in the perfectnesse of time,
Cast off his followers: and their memorie
Shall as a Patterne, or a Measure, liue,
By which his Grace must mete the liues of others,
Turning past-euills to aduantages

King. 'Tis seldome, when the Bee doth leaue her Combe
In the dead Carrion.
Enter Westmerland.

Who's heere? Westmerland?
West. Health to my Soueraigne, and new happinesse
Added to that, that I am to deliuer.
Prince Iohn, your Sonne, doth kisse your Graces Hand:
Mowbray, the Bishop, Scroope, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the Correction of your Law.
There is not now a Rebels Sword vnsheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her Oliue euery where:
The manner how this Action hath beene borne,
Here (at more leysure) may your Highnesse reade,
With euery course, in his particular

King. O Westmerland, thou art a Summer Bird,
Which euer in the haunch of Winter sings
The lifting vp of day.
Enter Harcourt.

Looke, heere's more newes

Harc. From Enemies, Heauen keepe your Maiestie:
And when they stand against you, may they fall,
As those that I am come to tell you of.
The Earle Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolfe,
With a great Power of English, and of Scots,
Are by the Sherife of Yorkeshire ouerthrowne:
The manner, and true order of the fight,
This Packet (please it you) containes at large

King. And wherefore should these good newes
Make me sicke?
Will Fortune neuer come with both hands full,
But write her faire words still in foulest Letters?
Shee eyther giues a Stomack, and no Foode,
(Such are the poore, in health) or else a Feast,
And takes away the Stomack (such are the Rich,
That haue aboundance, and enioy it not.)
I should reioyce now, at this happy newes,
And now my Sight fayles, and my Braine is giddie.
O me, come neere me, now I am much ill

Glo. Comfort your Maiestie

Cla. Oh, my Royall Father

West. My Soueraigne Lord, cheare vp your selfe, looke

War. Be patient (Princes) you doe know, these Fits
Are with his Highnesse very ordinarie.
Stand from him, giue him ayre:
Hee'le straight be well

Clar. No, no, hee cannot long hold out: these pangs,
Th' incessant care, and labour of his Minde,
Hath wrought the Mure, that should confine it in,
So thinne, that Life lookes through, and will breake out

Glo. The people feare me: for they doe obserue
Vnfather'd Heires, and loathly Births of Nature:
The Seasons change their manners, as the Yeere
Had found some Moneths asleepe, and leap'd them ouer

Clar. The Riuer hath thrice flow'd, no ebbe betweene:
And the old folke (Times doting Chronicles)
Say it did so, a little time before
That our great Grand-sire Edward sick'd, and dy'de

War. Speake lower (Princes) for the King recouers

Glo. This Apoplexie will (certaine) be his end

King. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence
Into some other Chamber: softly 'pray.
Let there be no noyse made (my gentle friends)
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.
Enter Prince Henry.

P.Hen. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
Clar. I am here (Brother) full of heauinesse

P.Hen. How now? Raine within doores, and none
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,
The King, your Father, is dispos'd to sleepe

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,
As hee whose Brow (with homely Biggen bound)
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
So many English Kings. Thy due, from me,
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.
This, from thee, will I to mine leaue,
As 'tis left to me.

Enter Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence.

King. Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence

Clar. Doth the King call?
War. What would your Maiestie? how fares your
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

King. The Prince of Wales? where is hee? let mee
see him

War. This doore is open, hee is gone this way

Glo. Hee came not through the Chamber where wee

King. Where is the Crowne? who tooke it from my
War. When wee with-drew (my Liege) wee left it

King. The Prince hath ta'ne it hence:
Goe seeke him out.
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,
Their braines with care, their bones with industry.
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,
To the ending Father.
Enter Warwicke.

Now, where is hee, that will not stay so long,
Till his Friend Sicknesse hath determin'd me?
War. My Lord, I found the Prince in the next Roome,
Washing with kindly Teares his gentle Cheekes,
With such a deepe demeanure, in great sorrow,
That Tyranny, which neuer quafft but blood,
Would (by beholding him) haue wash'd his Knife
With gentle eye-drops. Hee is comming hither

King. But wherefore did hee take away the Crowne?
Enter Prince Henry.

Loe, where hee comes. Come hither to me (Harry.)
Depart the Chamber, leaue vs heere alone.

P.Hen. I neuer thought to heare you speake againe

King. Thy wish was Father (Harry) to that thought:
I stay too long by thee, I wearie thee.
Do'st thou so hunger for my emptie Chayre,
That thou wilt needes inuest thee with mine Honors,
Before thy howre be ripe? O foolish Youth!
Thou seek'st the Greatnesse, that will ouer-whelme thee.
Stay but a little: for my Cloud of Dignitie
Is held from falling, with so weake a winde,
That it will quickly drop: my Day is dimme.
Thou hast stolne that, which after some few howres
Were thine, without offence: and at my death
Thou hast seal'd vp my expectation.
Thy Life did manifest, thou lou'dst me not,
And thou wilt haue me dye assur'd of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand Daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stonie heart,
To stab at halfe an howre of my Life.
What? canst thou not forbeare me halfe an howre?
Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy selfe,
And bid the merry Bels ring to thy eare
That thou art Crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the Teares, that should bedew my Hearse
Be drops of Balme, to sanctifie thy head:
Onely compound me with forgotten dust.
Giue that, which gaue thee life, vnto the Wormes:
Plucke downe my Officers, breake my Decrees;
For now a time is come, to mocke at Forme.
Henry the fift is Crown'd: Vp Vanity,
Downe Royall State: All you sage Counsailors, hence:
And to the English Court, assemble now
From eu'ry Region, Apes of Idlenesse.
Now neighbor-Confines, purge you of your Scum:
Haue you a Ruffian that will sweare? drinke? dance?
Reuell the night? Rob? Murder? and commit
The oldest sinnes, the newest kinde of wayes?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more:
England, shall double gill'd, his trebble guilt.
England, shall giue him Office, Honor, Might:
For the Fift Harry, from curb'd License pluckes
The muzzle of Restraint; and the wilde Dogge
Shall flesh his tooth in euery Innocent.
O my poore Kingdome (sicke, with ciuill blowes)
When that my Care could not with-hold thy Ryots,
What wilt thou do, when Ryot is thy Care?
O, thou wilt be a Wildernesse againe,
Peopled with Wolues (thy old Inhabitants.)
Prince. O pardon me (my Liege)
But for my Teares,
The most Impediments vnto my Speech,
I had fore-stall'd this deere, and deepe Rebuke,
Ere you (with greefe) had spoke, and I had heard
The course of it so farre. There is your Crowne,
And he that weares the Crowne immortally,
Long guard it yours. If I affect it more,
Then as your Honour, and as your Renowne,
Let me no more from this Obedience rise,
Which my most true, and inward duteous Spirit
Teacheth this prostrate, and exteriour bending.
Heauen witnesse with me, when I heere came in,
And found no course of breath within your Maiestie,
How cold it strooke my heart. If I do faine,
O let me, in my present wildenesse, dye,
And neuer liue, to shew th' incredulous World,
The Noble change that I haue purposed.
Comming to looke on you, thinking you dead,
(And dead almost (my Liege) to thinke you were)
I spake vnto the Crowne (as hauing sense)
And thus vpbraided it. The Care on thee depending,
Hath fed vpon the body of my Father,
Therefore, thou best of Gold, art worst of Gold.
Other, lesse fine in Charract, is more precious,
Preseruing life, in Med'cine potable:
But thou, most Fine, most Honour'd, most Renown'd,
Hast eate the Bearer vp.
Thus (my Royall Liege)
Accusing it, I put it on my Head,
To try with it (as with an Enemie,
That had before my face murdred my Father)
The Quarrell of a true Inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with Ioy,
Or swell my Thoughts, to any straine of Pride,
If any Rebell, or vaine spirit of mine,
Did, with the least Affection of a Welcome,
Giue entertainment to the might of it,
Let heauen, for euer, keepe it from my head,
And make me, as the poorest Vassaile is,
That doth with awe, and terror kneele to it

King. O my Sonne!
Heauen put it in thy minde to take it hence,
That thou might'st ioyne the more, thy Fathers loue,
Pleading so wisely, in excuse of it.
Come hither Harrie, sit thou by my bedde,
And heare (I thinke, the very latest Counsell
That euer I shall breath: Heauen knowes, my Sonne)
By what by-pathes, and indirect crook'd-wayes
I met this Crowne: and I my selfe know well
How troublesome it sate vpon my head.
To thee, it shall descend with better Quiet,
Better Opinion, better Confirmation:
For all the soyle of the Atchieuement goes
With me, into the Earth. It seem'd in mee,
But as an Honour snatch'd with boyst'rous hand,
And I had many liuing, to vpbraide
My gaine of it, by their Assistances,
Which dayly grew to Quarrell, and to Blood-shed,
Wounding supposed Peace.
All these bold Feares,
Thou seest (with perill) I haue answered:
For all my Reigne, hath beene but as a Scene
Acting that argument. And now my death
Changes the Moode: For what in me, was purchas'd,
Falles vpon thee, in a more Fayrer sort.
So thou, the Garland wear'st successiuely.
Yet, though thou stand'st more sure, then I could do,
Thou art not firme enough, since greefes are greene:
And all thy Friends, which thou must make thy Friends
Haue but their stings, and teeth, newly tak'n out,
By whose fell working, I was first aduanc'd,
And by whose power, I well might lodge a Feare
To be againe displac'd. Which to auoyd,
I cut them off: and had a purpose now
To leade out many to the Holy Land;
Least rest, and lying still, might make them looke
Too neere vnto my State.
Therefore (my Harrie)
Be it thy course to busie giddy Mindes
With Forraigne Quarrels: that Action hence borne out,
May waste the memory of the former dayes.
More would I, but my Lungs are wasted so,
That strength of Speech it vtterly deni'de mee.
How I came by the Crowne, O heauen forgiue:
And grant it may, with thee, in true peace liue

Prince. My gracious Liege:
You wonne it, wore it: kept it, gaue it me,
Then plaine and right must my possession be;
Which I, with more, then with a Common paine,
'Gainst all the World, will rightfully maintaine.
Enter Lord Iohn of Lancaster, and Warwicke.

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:)
But health (alacke) with youthfull wings is flowne
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.
It hath beene prophesi'de to me many yeares,
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.


Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Shallow, Silence, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Page, and Dauie.

Shal. By Cocke and Pye, you shall not away to night.
What Dauy, I say

Fal. You must excuse me, M[aster]. Robert Shallow

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
seru'd: and againe sir, shall we sowe the head-land with
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
had: And Sir, doe you meane to stoppe any of Williams
Wages, about the Sacke he lost the other day, at Hinckley
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
penny in purse. Vse his men well Dauy, for they are arrant
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. I beseech you sir,
To countenance William Visor of Woncot, against Clement
Perkes of the hill

Shal. There are many Complaints Dauy, against that
Visor, that Visor is an arrant Knaue, on my knowledge

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,
therefore I beseech your Worship, let him bee Countenanc'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[aster]. 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

Falstaffe. Ile follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
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 Society,
that they flocke together in consent, like so many
Wilde-Geese. If I had a suite to Mayster Shallow, I
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 ignorant
Carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of
another: therefore, let men take heede of their Companie.
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 Actions,
and he shall laugh with Interuallums. O it is much
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.


Scena Secunda.

Enter the Earle of Warwicke, and the Lord Chiefe Iustice.

Warwicke. How now, my Lord Chiefe Iustice, whether
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,
The seruice, that I truly did his life,
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.
Enter Iohn of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Clarence.

War. Heere come the heauy Issue of dead Harrie:
O, that the liuing Harrie had the temper
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

Ioh. Well: Peace be with him, that hath made vs heauy
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

Ch.Iust. Sweet Princes: what I did, I did in Honor,
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.
Enter Prince Henrie.

Ch.Iust. Good morrow: and heauen saue your Maiesty
Prince. This new, and gorgeous Garment, Maiesty,
Sits not so easie on me, as you thinke.
Brothers, you mixe your Sadnesse with some Feare:
This is the English, not the Turkish Court:
Not Amurah, an Amurah succeeds,
But Harry, Harry: Yet be sad (good Brothers)
For (to speake truth) it very well becomes you:
Sorrow, so Royally in you appeares,
That I will deeply put the Fashion on,
And weare it in my heart. Why then be sad,
But entertaine no more of it (good Brothers)
Then a ioynt burthen, laid vpon vs all.
For me, by Heauen (I bid you be assur'd)
Ile be your Father, and your Brother too:
Let me but beare your Loue, Ile beare your Cares;
But weepe that Harrie's dead, and so will I.
But Harry liues, that shall conuert those Teares
By number, into houres of Happinesse

Iohn, &c. We hope no other from your Maiesty

Prin. You all looke strangely on me: and you most,
You are (I thinke) assur'd, I loue you not

Ch.Iust. I am assur'd (if I be measur'd rightly)
Your Maiesty hath no iust cause to hate mee

Pr. No? How might a Prince of my great hopes forget
So great Indignities you laid vpon me?
What? Rate? Rebuke? and roughly send to Prison
Th' immediate Heire of England? Was this easie?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?
Ch.Iust. I then did vse the Person of your Father:
The Image of his power, lay then in me,
And in th' administration of his Law,
Whiles I was busie for the Commonwealth,
Your Highnesse pleased to forget my place,
The Maiesty, and power of Law, and Iustice,
The Image of the King, whom I presented,
And strooke me in my very Seate of Iudgement:
Whereon (as an Offender to your Father)
I gaue bold way to my Authority,
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the Garland,
To haue a Sonne, set your Decrees at naught?
To plucke downe Iustice from your awefull Bench?
To trip the course of Law, and blunt the Sword
That guards the peace, and safety of your Person?
Nay more, to spurne at your most Royall Image,
And mocke your workings, in a Second body?
Question your Royall Thoughts, make the case yours:
Be now the Father, and propose a Sonne:
Heare your owne dignity so much prophan'd,
See your most dreadfull Lawes, so loosely slighted;
Behold your selfe, so by a Sonne disdained:
And then imagine me, taking your part,
And in your power, soft silencing your Sonne:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a King, speake in your State,
What I haue done, that misbecame my place,
My person, or my Lieges Soueraigntie

Prin. You are right Iustice, and you weigh this well:
Therefore still beare the Ballance, and the Sword:
And I do wish your Honors may encrease,
Till you do liue, to see a Sonne of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I liue, to speake my Fathers words:
Happy am I, that haue a man so bold,
That dares do Iustice, on my proper Sonne;
And no lesse happy, hauing such a Sonne,
That would deliuer vp his Greatnesse so,
Into the hands of Iustice. You did commit me:
For which, I do commit into your hand,
Th' vnstained Sword that you haue vs'd to beare:
With this Remembrance; That you vse the same
With the like bold, iust, and impartiall spirit
As you haue done 'gainst me. There is my hand,
You shall be as a Father, to my Youth:
My voice shall sound, as you do prompt mine eare,
And I will stoope, and humble my Intents,
To your well-practis'd, wise Directions.
And Princes all, beleeue me, I beseech you:
My Father is gone wilde into his Graue,
(For in his Tombe, lye my Affections)
And with his Spirits, sadly I suruiue,
To mocke the expectation of the World;
To frustrate Prophesies, and to race out
Rotten Opinion, who hath writ me downe
After my seeming. The Tide of Blood in me,
Hath prowdly flow'd in Vanity, till now.
Now doth it turne, and ebbe backe to the Sea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of Floods,
And flow henceforth in formall Maiesty.
Now call we our High Court of Parliament,
And let vs choose such Limbes of Noble Counsaile,
That the great Body of our State may go
In equall ranke, with the best gouern'd Nation,
That Warre, or Peace, or both at once may be
As things acquainted and familiar to vs,
In which you (Father) shall haue formost hand.
Our Coronation done, we will accite
(As I before remembred) all our State,
And heauen (consigning to my good intents)
No Prince, nor Peere, shall haue iust cause to say,
Heauen shorten Harries happy life, one day.


Scena Tertia.

Enter Falstaffe, Shallow, Silence, Bardolfe, Page, and Pistoll.

Shal. Nay, you shall see mine Orchard: where, in an
Arbor we will eate a last yeares Pippin of my owne graffing,
with a dish of Carrawayes, and so forth. (Come Cosin
Silence, and then to bed

Fal. You haue heere a goodly dwelling, and a rich

Shal. Barren, barren, barren: Beggers all, beggers all
Sir Iohn: Marry, good ayre. Spread Dauy, spread Dauie:
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 Varlet,
Sir Iohn: I haue drunke too much Sacke at Supper. A
good Varlet. Now sit downe, now sit downe: Come

Sil. Ah sirra (quoth-a) we shall doe nothing but eate,
and make good cheere, and praise heauen for the merrie
yeere: when flesh is cheape, and Females deere, and lustie
Lads rome heere, and there: so merrily, and euer among
so merrily

Fal. There's a merry heart, good M[aster]. Silence, Ile giue
you a health for that anon

Shal. Good M[aster]. Bardolfe: some wine, Dauie

Da. Sweet sir, sit: Ile be with you anon: most sweete
sir, sit. Master Page, good M[aster]. Page, sit: Proface. What
you want in meate, wee'l haue in drinke: but you beare,
the heart's all

Shal. Be merry M[aster]. Bardolfe, and my little Souldiour
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[aster]. Silence had bin a man of this

Sil. Who I? I haue beene merry twice and once, ere

Dauy. There is a dish of Lether-coats for you

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[aster]. Silence

Sil. If we shall be merry, now comes in the sweete of
the night

Fal. Health, and long life to you, M[aster]. Silence

Sil. Fill the Cuppe, and let it come. Ile pledge you a
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[aster]. 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[aster]. Bardolfe?
Bar. Yes Sir, in a pottle pot

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

Sil. Is't so? Why then say an old man can do somwhat

Dau. If it please your Worshippe, there's one Pistoll
come from the Court with newes

Fal. From the Court? Let him come in.
Enter Pistoll.

How now Pistoll?
Pist. Sir Iohn, 'saue you sir

Fal. What winde blew you hither, Pistoll?
Pist. Not the ill winde which blowes none to good,
sweet Knight: Thou art now one of the greatest men in
the Realme

Sil. Indeed, I thinke he bee, but Goodman Puffe of

Pist. Puffe? puffe in thy teeth, most recreant Coward
base. Sir Iohn, I am thy Pistoll, and thy Friend: helter
skelter haue I rode to thee, and tydings do I bring, and
luckie ioyes, and golden Times, and happie Newes of

Fal. I prethee now deliuer them, like a man of this

Pist. A footra for the World, and Worldlings base,
I speake of Affrica, and Golden ioyes

Fal. O base Assyrian Knight, what is thy newes?
Let King Couitha know the truth thereof

Sil. And Robin-hood, Scarlet, and Iohn

Pist. Shall dunghill Curres confront the Hellicons?
And shall good newes be baffel'd?
Then Pistoll lay thy head in Furies lappe

Shal. Honest Gentleman,
I know not your breeding

Pist. Why then Lament therefore

Shal. Giue me pardon, Sir.
If sir, you come with news from the Court, I take it, there
is but two wayes, either to vtter them, or to conceale
them. I am Sir, vnder the King, in some Authority

Pist. Vnder which King?
Bezonian, speake, or dye

Shal. Vnder King Harry

Pist. Harry the Fourth? or Fift?
Shal. Harry the Fourth

Pist. A footra for thine Office.
Sir Iohn, thy tender Lamb-kinne, now is King,
Harry the Fift's the man, I speake the truth.
When Pistoll lyes, do this, and figge-me, like
The bragging Spaniard

Fal. What, is the old King dead?
Pist. As naile in doore.
The things I speake, are iust

Fal. Away Bardolfe, Sadle my Horse,
Master Robert Shallow, choose what Office thou wilt
In the Land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double charge thee
With Dignities

Bard. O ioyfull day:
I would not take a Knighthood for my Fortune

Pist. What? I do bring good newes

Fal. Carrie Master Silence to bed: Master Shallow, my
Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am Fortunes Steward.
Get on thy Boots, wee'l ride all night. Oh sweet Pistoll:
Away Bardolfe: Come Pistoll, vtter more to mee: and
withall deuise something to do thy selfe good. Boote,
boote Master Shallow, I know the young King is sick for
mee. Let vs take any mans Horsses: The Lawes of England
are at my command'ment. Happie are they, which
haue beene my Friendes: and woe vnto my Lord Chiefe

Pist. Let Vultures vil'de seize on his Lungs also:
Where is the life that late I led, say they?
Why heere it is, welcome those pleasant dayes.


Scena Quarta.

Enter Hostesse Quickly, Dol Teare-sheete, and Beadles.

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

Dol. Nut-hooke, nut-hooke, you Lye: Come on, Ile
tell thee what, thou damn'd Tripe-visag'd Rascall, if the
Childe I now go with, do miscarrie, thou had'st better
thou had'st strooke thy Mother, thou Paper-fac'd Villaine

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 Pistoll
beate among you

Dol. Ile tell thee what, thou thin man in a Censor; I
will haue you as soundly swindg'd for this, you blewBottel'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

Dol. Goodman death, goodman Bones

Host. Thou Anatomy, thou

Dol. Come you thinne Thing:
Come you Rascall

Off. Very well.


Scena Quinta.

Enter two Groomes.

1.Groo. More Rushes, more Rushes

2.Groo. The Trumpets haue sounded twice

1.Groo. It will be two of the Clocke, ere they come
from the Coronation.

Exit Groo.

Enter Falstaffe, Shallow, Pistoll, Bardolfe, and Page.

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