« PředchozíPokračovat »
Which he in this adventure hath surprised,
K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this;
Another room in the palace.
Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad ?
P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst
I Triin himself, as birds their feathers.
truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day ? Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a hot wench in flame. colored taffata ; I see no reason, why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.
Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal : for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,~he, that wandering knight so fair.' And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say ;
thou wilt have none) P. Hen. What! none ?
Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.
P. Hen. Well, how then ? come, roundly, roundly.
Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty ; let us beDiana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon : and let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal.
P. Hen. Thou sayest well; and it holds well too : for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As for proof now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning;
got with swearing--lay by;? and spent with crying
- bring in :? now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
Fal. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance ? 3
Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips and thy quiddities ?4 What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?
P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy
Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used
credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pr'y
I Stand still.
? i. e. more wine.
thee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king; and resolution thus fobbed, as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic the law ? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
P. Hen. No; thou shalt.
Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Fal. Well, Hal, well: and in some sort it jumps with my humor, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.
P. Hen. For obtaining of suits?
Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear.
P. Hen. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the me. lancholy of Moor-ditch ?
Fal. Thou hast the most unsavory similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince --But, Hal, I prythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
P. Hen. Thou didst well; for Wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration ; 1 and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,—God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over ; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain. I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.
P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack ?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one: an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.?
P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking.
Enter POINS at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation. Poins ! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match.3 O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most
? i.e. treat me with igno niny.
i Citation of holy texts. * Made an appointment.