The Plays of William Shakspeare

and bear your years very well: welcome, good sir John.

Fal. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow-Master Sure-card, as I think. Shal. No, sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.

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.Let me see; Where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, an't please you.

Shal. What think you, sir John? a good limbed fellow young, strong, and of good friends. Fal. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, an't please you.

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

Shal. Here is two more called than your num you must have but four here, sir ;-and so, i pray you, go in with me to dinner. [To Shallow. Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, in good trotn

Moul. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have let me alone: my old dame will be un-master Shallow. done 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.

Fal. Go to; peace, Mouldy, you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.

Moul. Spent!

Shal. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; Know you where you are ?-For the other, sir John:let me see ;-Simon Shadow !

Fal. Ay marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier.

Shal. Where's Shadow?

Shad. Here, sir.

Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou?
Shad. My mother's son, sir.

Fal. Thy mother's son! like enough; and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: It is often so, indeed; but not much of the father's substance.

Shal. Do you like him, sir John?

Fal. Shadow will serve for summer,-prick him; for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book.

Shal. Thomas Wart!

Fal. Where's he?

Wart. Here, sir.

Fal. Is thy name Wart?

Wart. Yea, sir.

Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart.
Shal. Shall I prick him, sir John.

Fal. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins prick him no more.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha!-you can do it, sir; you do it: I commend you well.-Francis Feeble! Fee. Here, sir.

Fal. What trade art thou, Feeble?
Fee. A woman's tailor, sir.
Shal. Shall I prick him, sir?

can

Fal. You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he would have pricked you.-Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battle, as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat!

Fee. I will do my good will, sir; you can have

no more.

Shal. O, sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint George's fields Fal. No more of that, good master Shallow, no more of that.

Shal. Ha, it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive?

Fal. She lives, master Shallow.

Shal. She never could away with me. Fal. Never, never: she would always say, she could not abide inaster Shallow.

Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?

Fal. Old, old, master Shallow.

Shal. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old; certain, she's old; and had Robin Night-work by old Night-work, before I came to Clement's inn.

Sil. That's fifty-five year ago.

Shal. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this knight and I have seen '-Ha, sir John, said I well?

Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight, master Shallow.

Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith, sir John, we have; our watch-word was, Hem, boys!-Come, let's to dinner; come, let's to dinner:-0, the days that we have seen!Come, come.

[Exeunt Falstaff, Shallow, and Silence. Bull. Good master corporate Bardolph, stand my friend; and here is four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go: and yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care: but, rather, because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my friends; else, sir, I did not care, for mine own part so much.

Bard. Go to; stand aside.

Moul. And good master corporal captain, for my old dame's sake, stand my friend; she has nobody to do any thing about her, when I am gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself: you shall have forty, sir.

Bard. Go to; stand aside.

Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, Fee. By my troth, I care not;-a man can die but courageous Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the once ;- We owe God a death;-I'll ne'er bear a wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse.-base mind :-an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, Prick the woman's tailor well, master Shallow; so: No man's too good to serve his prince; and, deep, master Shallow. let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next.

Fee I would, Wart might have gone, sir.

Shal. Come, sir John, which four will you have?
Fal. Do you choose for me.

Shul. Marry then,-Mouldy, Bull-calf, Feeble, and Shadow.

Fal. Mouldy, and Bull-calf:-For you, Mouldy, stay at home still; you are past service; and for your part, Bull-calf,-grow till you come unto it; I wil! none of you.

Shal. Sir John, sir John, do not yourself wrong; they are your likeliest men, and I would have you served with the best.

scutched huswifes that he heard the carmen whis-
tle, and sware-they were his fancies, or his good-
nights. And now is this Vice's dagger become a
squire; and talks as familiarly of John of Gaunt,
as if he had been sworn brother to him; and I'll be
sworn he never saw him but once in the Tilt-yard;
and then he burst his head, for crouding among
the marshal's men. I saw it; and told John of
Gaunt, he beat his own name; for you might have
truss'd him, and all his apparel, into an eel-skin;
the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him,
a court; and now has he land and beeves. Well;
I will be acquainted with him, if I return: and it
shall go hard, but I will make him a philosopher's
two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait 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.
[Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-A Forest in Yorkshire.

and others.

Arch. What is this forest call'd?

Fal. Will you tell me, master Shallow, how to choose a man? Care I for the limb, the thewes, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit, master Shallow.-Here's Wart; Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Hastings, -you see what a ragged appearance it is: he shall charge you, and discharge you, with the motion of a pewterer's hammer; come off, and on, swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's bucket. And this same half-faced fellow, Shadow,- give me this man; he presents no mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as great aim level at the edge of a penknife: And, for a retreat, how swiftly will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off? O, give me the spare men, and spare the great ones.Put me a caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph.

Bard. Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus. Fal. Come, manage me your caliver. So:very well:-go to:-very good:-exceeding good. -0, give me always a little, lean, old, chapped, bald shot. Well said, i'faith, Wart; thou'rt a good scab: hold, there's a tester for thee.

Shal. He is not his craft's master, he doth not do it right. I remember at Mile-end green, (when I lay at Clement's inn,-I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show,) there was a little quiver fellow, and 'a would manage you his piece thus: and 'a would about, and about, and come you in, and come you in rah, tah, tah, would 'a say; bounce, would 'a say; and away again would 'a go, and again would 'a come:-I shall never see such a fellow.

Fal. These fellows will do well, master Shallow. -God keep you, master_Silence; I will not use many words with you :-Fare you well, gentlemen both: I thank you: I must a dozen mile to-night.Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.

Shal. Sir John, heaven bless you, and prosper your affairs, and send us peace! As you return,

Hast. "Tis Gualtree forest, an't shall please your grace.

Arch. Here stand, my lords: and send disco-
verers forth,

To know the numbers of our enemies.
Hast. We have sent forth already.
Arch.

"Tis well done.
My friends, and brethren in these great affairs,
I must acquaint you that I have receiv'd
New dated letters from Northumberland;
Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus:-
Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
As might hold sortance with his quality,
The which he could not levy; whereupon
He is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes,
To Scotland: and concludes in hearty prayers,
That your attempts may overlive the hazard,
And fearful meeting of their opposite.
Morb. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch
ground,
And dash themselves to pieces.

Enter Westmoreland.

visit my house; let our old acquaintance be renew-Let us sway on, and face them in the field.
ed: peradventure, I will with you to the court.
Fal. I would you would, master Shallow.
Shal. Go to; I have spoke, at a word. Fare you
well.
[Exeunt Shallow and Silence.

Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us

here ?

Momb. I think, it is my lord of Westmoreland.
West. Health and fair greeting from our general,
The prince, lord John and duke of Lancaster.
Arch. Say on, my lord of Westmoreland, in
peace;

Fal. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. On, Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt Bardolph, Recruits, &c.] As I return, I will fetch off these justices: I do see the bottom of justice Shallow. 1.ord, lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying! This same starved justice hath done What doth concern your coming? nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his West. Then, my lord, youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull- Unto your grace do I in chief address street; and every third word a lie, duer paid to the The substance of my speech. If that rebellion hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember Came like itself, in base and abject routs, him at Clement's inn, like a man made after sup- Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage, per of a cheese-paring: when he was naked, he was, And countenanc'd by boys, and beggary; for all the world, like a forked radish, with a head I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd, fantastically carved upon it with a knife: he was In his true, native, and most proper shape, so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight You, reverend father, and these noble lords, were invisible: he was the very Genius of famine; Had not been here, to dress the ugly form yet lecherous as a monkey, and the whores called Of base and bloody insurrection

him-mandrake: he came ever in the rear-ward of With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop,the fashion; and sung those tunes to the over-Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd;

Whose beard the silver hand of peace touch'd;

Whose learning and good letters

hath | Being mounted, and both roused in their seats,
Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
hath Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,
And the loud trumpet blowing them together;
Then, then, when there was nothing could have
staid

peace tutor❜d; Whose white investments figure innocence, The dove and very blessed spirit of peace,Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself, Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace, Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war? Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, Your pens to lances; and your tongue divine To a loud trumpet, and a point of war?

Arch. Wherefore do I this ?-so the question stands.

Briefly to this end :-We are all diseas'd;
And, with our surfeiting, and wanton hours,
Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
And we must bleed for it: of which disease
Our late king, Richard, being infected, died.
But, my most noble lord of Westmoreland,
I take not on me here as a physician;
Nor do I, as an enemy to peace,
Troop in the throngs of military men:
But, rather, show a while like fearful war,
To diet rank minds, sick of happiness;
And purge the obstructions, which begin to stop
Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
I have in equal balance justly weigh'd

What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,

And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
We see which way the stream of time doth run,
And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere
By the rough torrent of occasion:

And have the summary of all our griefs,
When time shall serve, to show in articles;
Which, long ere this, we offer'd to the king,
And might by no suit gain our audience:

My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
O, when the king did throw his warder down,
His own life hung upon the staff he threw :
Then threw he down himself; and all their lives,
That, by indictment, and by dint of sword,
Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.

West. You speak, lord Mowbray, now you know not what:

The earl of Hereford was reputed then

In England the most valiant gentleman;
Who knows, on whom fortune would then have
smil'd?

But, if your father had been victor there,
He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry:
For all the country, in a general voice,

Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers, and love,

Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on,
And bless'd, and grac'd indeed, more than the
king.

But this is mere digression from my purpose.-
Here come I from our princely general,
To know your griefs; to tell you from his grace,
That he will give you audience: and wherein
It shall appear that your demands are just,
You shall enjoy them; every thing set off,
That might so much as think you enemies.
Morb. But he hath forc'd us to compel this
offer;

And it proceeds from policy, not love.

West. Mowbray, you overween, to take it so;

When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our This offer comes from mercy, not from fear :

griefs,

We are denied access unto his person

For, lo! within a ken, our army lies: Upon mine honour, all too confident

Even by those men that most have done us wrong. To give admittance to a thought of fear.

The dangers of the days but newly gone,
(Whose memory is written on the earth
With yet-appearing blood,) and the examples
Of every minute's instance, (present now,)
Have put us in these ill-beseeming arms:
Not to break peace, or any branch of it;
But to establish here a peace indeed,
Concurring both in name and quality.

West. When ever yet was your appeal denied?
Wherein have you been galled by the king?
What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you?
That you should seal this lawless bloody book
Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine,
And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?

Arch. My brother general, the commonwealth, To brother born an household cruelty,

I make my quarrel in particular.

West. There is no need of any such redress; Or, if there were, it not belongs to you.

Morb. Why not to him, in part; and to us all, That feel the bruises of the days before; And suffer the condition of these times To lay a heavy and unequal hand Upon our honours?

West. O my good lord Mowbray, Construe the times to their necessities, And you shall say indeed,-it is the time, And not the king, that doth you injuries. Yet, for your part, it not appears to me, Either from the king, or in the present time, That you should have an inch of any ground To build a grief on: Were you not restor'd To all the duke of Norfolk's signiories, Your noble and right-well-remember'd father's? Monb. What thing, in honour, had my father

lost,

That need to be reviv'd, and breath'd in me? The king, that lov'd him, as the state stood then, Was, force perforce, compell'd to banish him: And then, when Harry Bolingbroke, and he,

Our battle is more full of names than yours,
Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
Then reason wills, our hearts should be as good:--
Say you not then, our offer is compell'd.

Morub. Well, by my will, we shall admit no

parley.

West. That argues but the shame of your of. fence:

A rotten case abides no handling.

Hast. Hath the prince John a full commission, In very ample virtue of his father,

To hear, and absolutely to determine

Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
West. That is intended in the general's name:

I muse, you make so slight a question.
Arch. Then take, my lord of Westmoreland, this
schedule;

For this contains our general grievances :-
Each several article herein redress'd;

All members of our cause, both here and hence,
That are insinew'd to this action,
Acquitted by a true substantial form;
And present execution of our wills
To us, and to our purposes, consign'd:
We come within our awful banks again,
And knit our powers to the arm of peace.

West. This will I show the general. Please you, lords,

In sight of both our battles we may meet:
And either end in peace, which heaven so frame!
Or to the place of difference call the swords
Which must decide it.

Arch.

My lord, we will do so. [Exit West. Morb. There is a thing within my bosom, tells

me,

That no conditions of our peace can stand.
Hast. Fear you not that: if we can make our
Upon such large terms, and so absolute, [peace

As our conditions shall consist upon,

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
Morb. Ay, but our valuation shall be such,
That every slight and false-derived cause,
Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,
Shall, to the king, taste of this action :
That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind,
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,
And good from bad find no partition.

Arch. No, no, my lord; Note this,-the king is

weary

Of dainty and such picking grievances:

For he hath found,--to end one doubt by death,
Revives two greater in the heirs of life.
And therefore will he wipe his tables clean;
And keep no tell-tale to his memory,
That may repeat and history his loss

To new remembrance: For full well he knows,

He cannot so precisely weed this land,
As his misdoubts present occasion:
His foes are so enrooted with his friends,
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend.
So that this land, like an offensive wife,
That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes ;
As he is striking, holds his infant up,
And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm
That was uprear'd to execution.

Hast. Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods
On late offenders, that he now doth lack
The very instruments of chastisement:
So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
May offer, but not hold.

Arch.

'Tis very true :

And therefore be assur'd, my good lord marshal,
If we do now make our atonement well,
Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
Grow stronger for the breaking.

Mowb.

Be it so. Here is return'd my lord of Westmoreland. Re-enter Westmoreland.

West. The prince is here at hand: Pleaseth your lordship,

To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies? Mowb. Your grace of York, in God's name then set forward.

Arch. Before, and greet his grace :-my lord, we [Exeunt.

come

SCENE II.-Another Part of the Forest. Enter, from one side, Mowbray, the Archbishop, Hastings, and others from the other side, Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, Officers, and Attendants.

P. John. You are well encounter'd here, my cou-
sin Mowbray :

Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop:
And so to you, lord Hastings,-and to all.-
My lord of York, it better show'd with you.
When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
Encircled you, to hear with reverence
Your exposition on the holy text;
Than now to see you here an iron man,
Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
That man, that sits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach,
In shadow of such greatness! With you, lord
bishop,

It is even so :-Who hath not heard it spoken,
How deep you were within the books of God?
To us, the speaker in his parliament;
To us, the imagin'd voice of God himself;
The very opener and intelligencer,
Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven,
And our dull workings: 0, who shall believe,
But you misuse the reverence of your place ;

Whereon this Hydra son of war is born:

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep,
With grant of our most just and right desires;
And true obedience of this madness cur'd,
Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
To the last man.

Hast.

And though we here fall down,
We have supplies to second our attempt;
If they miscarry, theirs shall second them:
And so, success of mischief shall be born;
And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up,
Whiles England shall have generation.

P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, much
too shallow,

To sound the bottom of the after-times.

West. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them directly,

How far-forth you do like their articles?

P. John. I like them all, and do allow them well:
And swear here by the honour of my blood,
My father's purposes have been mistook ;
And some about him have too lavishly
Wrested his meaning, and authority.-
My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
As we will ours: and here, between the armies,
Let's drink together friendly, and embrace;
That all their eyes may bear those tokens home,
Of our restored love, and amity.

Arch. I take your princely word for these redres

to the army

This news of peace; let them have pay, and part: I know, it will well please them: Hie thee, captain. [Exit Officer.

Arch. To you, my noble lord of Westmoreland.
West. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew
what pains

I have bestow'd, to breed this present peace,
You would drink freely but my love to you
Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
Arch. I do not doubt you.
West.

I am glad of it :-
Health to my lord, and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season:
For I am, on the sudden, something ill.

Arch. Against ill chances, men are ever merry ;
But heaviness foreruns the good event.
West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden

Re-enter Hastings.

Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already: Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their

courses

East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,
Each hurries toward his home, and sporting-place.
West. Good tidings, my lord Hastings; for the
which

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
When every thing is ended, then you come :
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows' back.

Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus; I never knew yet, but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered nine-score and odd posts: and here, travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate valour, taken sir John Colevile of the dale, a most furious knight, and valorous enemy: But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, I came, saw, and overcame.

P. John. It was more of his courtesy than vour deserving.

Fal. I know not; here he is, and here I yield him: and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top of it, Colevile kissing my foot: To the which course, if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt two-pences to me; and 1, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much as I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason: the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which And you, lord archbishop,-and you, lord Mow-show like pins' heads to her; believe not the word Of capital treason I attach you both. [bray, of the noble : Therefore let me have right, and let Mow. Is this proceeding just and honourable ? desert mount. West. Is your assembly so?

Arch. Will you thus break your faith?
P. John.
I pawn'd thee none :
I promis'd you redress of these same grievances,
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine ho-

nour,

I will perform with a most christian care.
But, for you, rebels,-look to taste the due
Meet for rebellion, and such acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.-
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray:
Heaven, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.-
Some guard these traitors to the block of death;
Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.-Another Part of the Forest. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile, meeting.

Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition are you; and of what place, I pray?

Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name isColevile of the dale.

Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a knight is your degree; and your place, the dale; Colevile shall still be your name; a traitor your degree; and the dungeon your place,-a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.

Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff?

Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are drops of thy lovers, and they weep! for thy death; therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

Cole. I think, you are sir John Falstaff; and, in that thought, yield me.

Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine; and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: My womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.-Here comes our general.

P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount.
Fal. Let it shine then.

P. John. Thine's too thick to shine.
Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may
do me good, and call it what you will.
P. John. Is thy name Colevile ?
Cole.
It is, my lord.
P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.
Fal. And a famous true subject took him.
Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are,
That led me hither: had they been rul'd by me,
You should have won them dearer than you have
Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: but
thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away; and
I thank thee for thee.

Re-enter Westmoreland.

P. Jol.n. Now, have you left pursuit ?
West. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd.
P. John. Send Colevile, with his confederates,
To York, to present execution:-
Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
[Exeunt some with Colevile.
And now despatch we toward the court, my lords:
I hear, the king my father is sore sick :
Our news shall go before us to his majesty,-
Which, cousin, you shall bear,-to comfort him;
And we with sober speed will follow you.

Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through Glostershire: and, when you come to court, stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.

P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my con dition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [Exit Fal. I would, you had but the wit; 'twere better than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh;-but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's never any of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male greensickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards;which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vapours which environ it: makes it apprehensive, quick, [Exit West.forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable

Enter Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, and others.

P. John. The heat is past, follow no further

now ;

Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.

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