Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH. Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, master Fang, and master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.

Fal. How now? whose mare's dead? what's the

matter?

Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of mistress Quickly.

Fal. Away, varlets! - Draw, Bardolph; cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel. Host. Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou rogue! Murder, murder! O thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill the king's officers? O thou honeyseed3 rogue! thou art a honey-seed; a man-queller, and a woman-queller.

Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph.
Fang. A rescue! a rescue!

Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!

Fal. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you

fustilarian!

Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have: he hath eaten me out of house and home he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his.

Ch. Just. How comes this, sir John? Fye! what man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by her own? Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself, and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt 4 goblet, sitting in my Dolphinchamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singingman of Windsor: thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us, she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee, they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying, that ere long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath; deny it, if thou canst. 4 Party gilt.

2 Homicidal.

3 Homicide.

Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says, up and down the town, that her eldest son is like you: she hath been in good case, and, the But for these truth is, poverty hath distracted her. foolish officers, I beseech you, I may have redress against them.

Ch. Just. Sir John, sir John, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such more than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration; you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person.

Host. Yea, in troth, my lord.

Ch. Just. Pr'ythee, peace: Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done with her; the one you may do with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.

Fal. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You call honourable boldness, impudent sauciness: if a man will make court'sy, and say nothing, he is virtuous: No, my lord, my humble duty remembered, I will not be your suitor; I say to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty employment in the king's

affairs.

Ch. Just. You speak as having power to do tion 6, and satisfy the poor woman. wrong but answer in the effect of your reputaFal. Come hither, hostess.

Enter GoWER.

[Taking her aside.

Host. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate, and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.

Fal. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking: and for thy walls,-a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the prodigal, or the German hunting in waterand these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, work, is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings,

if thou canst.

Come, an it were not for thy humours, there is not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw 7 thy action: Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost no

know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.

Host. Pray thee, sir John, let it be but twenty nobles; i'faith I am loath to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la.

Fal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift; you'll be a fool still.

Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope you'll come to supper: you'll pay me all together?

Poins. I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity: : - he sure means brevity in breath; shortwinded. - I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears, thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell. Thine, by yea and no, (which is as much as to say, as thou usest him,) Jack Falstaff, with my familiars; John, with my brothers and sisters; and Sir John with all Europe.

My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and make

P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph; word to your master that I am yet come to town: There's for your silence.

Bard. I have no tongue, sir. Page. And for mine, sir; I will govern it. P. Hen. Fare ye well; go. [Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page.] How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

Poins. Put on two leather jerkins, and aprons, and wait upon him at his table as drawers.

P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension! it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be mine: for, in every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly.

Enter PETO.

Peto, how now? what news?

Peto. The king, your father, is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts, Come from the north: and, as I came along, I met, and overtook, a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for sir John Falstaff.

P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time: When tempest of commotion, like the south, Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt, And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword and cloak: night.

* Sty.

and, Poins, good [Exeunt.

SCENE III. - Warkworth. Before the Castle. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY.

North. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,

Give even way unto my rough affairs:
Put not you on the visage of the times,
And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.

Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more: Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

Lady P. O, yet, for heaven's sake, go not to these wars!

The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost; yours, and your

son's.

For yours,— may heavenly glory brighten it!
For his it stuck upon him, as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven: and by his light,
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts; he was, indeed, the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs, that practis'd not his gait :
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant :
For those that could speak low, and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him: So that, in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashioned others. And him, O wondrous

him!

O miracle of men! - him did you leave,
(Second to none, unseconded by you,)
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage; to abide a field,
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible, so you left him:
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong,
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others, than with him; let them alone;
The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong:
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

North.

Beshrew your heart, Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from me, With new lamenting ancient oversights. Or it will seek me in another place, But I must go, and meet with danger there;

And find me worse provided.

Lady N.
O, fly to Scotland,
Till that the nobles, and the armed commons,
Have of their puissance made a little taste.
Lady P. If they get ground and vantage of the
king,

Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
To make strength stronger; but for all our loves,
First let them try themselves: So did your son;
He was so suffer'd; So came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough,
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,

That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with my mind,

As with the tide swell'd up unto its height,

That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back :
I will resolve for Scotland; there am I

Till time and vantage crave my company. [Exeunt.

Enter KING HENRY in his Night-gown, with a Page. K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them: Make good speed.
[Exit Page.

How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! Sleep, gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber;
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge;
And in the visitation of the winds
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly 9, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter WARWICK and SURREY.

War. Many good morrows to your majesty!
K. Hen. Is it good morrow, lords?
War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

K. Hen. Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.

Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
War. We have, my liege.

K. Hen. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom,

How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.
War. It is but as a body, yet distemper'd;
Which to his former strength may be restor❜d,
With good advice, and little medicine:
My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
K. Hen. O heaven! that one might read the book
of fate;

And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent

(Weary of solid firmness) melt itself
Into the sea! and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean

Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,

The happiest youth, -viewing his progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue, —
Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
'Tis not ten years gone,

Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together, and, in two years after,
Were they at wars: It is but eight years, since
This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foot:
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard,
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by,
(You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember,)

[To WARWICK. When Richard, - with his eye brimfull of tears, Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy? Northumberland, thou ladder, by the which My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne; Though then, heaven knows, I had no such in

tent:

But that necessity so bow'd the state,
That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss:
The time shall come, thus did he follow it,

The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption: - so went on,
Foretelling this same time's condition,
And the division of our amity.

War. There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd:
The which observ'd, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life; which in their seeds,
And weak beginnings, lie intreasured.
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And, by the necessary form of this,

King Richard might create a perfect guess, That great Northumberland, then false to him, Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness; Which should not find a ground to root upon, Unless on you.

K. Hen. Are these things then necessities? Then let us meet them like necessities: And that same word even now cries out on us; They say, the bishop and Northumberland Are fifty thousand strong.

War.

It cannot be, my lord; Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the fear'd: - Please it your grace,

To

go to bed; upon my life, my lord, The powers that you already have sent forth, Shall bring this prize in very easily.

Sil. Indeed, sir; to my cost. Shal. He must then to the inns of court, shortly: I was once of Clement's Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

too.

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 There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotswold man,—you not four such swinge-bucklers in all the inns of court again: and I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were. Then was Jack Falstaff, now sir John, a boy; and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk.

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.

backsword man: How doth the good knight? may Shal. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good I ask, how my lady his wife doth?

Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated, than with a wife.

said indeed too. Better accommodated! - it is good; Shal. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well yea, indeed, it is: good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated! — it comes from accommodo: very good; a good phrase.

:

Phrase, call you it? By this good day, I know not Bard. Pardon me, sir: I have heard the word. the phrase but I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exwhen a man is, as they say, accommodated: or ceeding good command. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, — being, whereby, he may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.

Enter FALSTaff.

Sil. This sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon, about soldiers?

I saw

Shal. The same sir John, the very same, him break Skogan's head at the court gate, when he was a crack 3, 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 acquaintance are dead!

Sil. We shall all follow, cousin. Shal. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure; death 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. town living yet?

Is old Double of your

Sil. Dead, sir. Shal. Dead! See, see! - he drew a good bow; And dead! He shot a fine shoot: :- John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! he would have clapp'd i' the clout at twelve score +; and carried you a forehand shaft at fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see. How a score of ewes now?

Fal. Good master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace.

Sil. Your good worship is welcome.

Fal. Fye! this is hot weather. - Gentlemen, have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men? Shal. Marry, have 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. So, so, so, so : Yea, marry, sir- Ralph Mouldy : - let them appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so. — see; where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, an't please you.

- Let me

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.

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. Shal. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, things that are mouldy, lack use: Very singular good! well said, sir John; very well said.

[To SHALLOW.

Fal. Prick him. Moul. 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.

• Brave.