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.

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

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

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

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

Enter FALSTAFF.

Shul. 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.

Sad. 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! In faith, well said, sir John; very well said. [To SHALLOW.

Fal. Prick him.

Moud. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have let me alone: 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.

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 can 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?

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.

Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse.-Prick the woman's tailor well, master Shallow; deep, master Shallow.

Fee. I would, Wart might have gone, sir.

Fal. I would, thou wert a man's tailor; that thou might'st mend him, and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands: Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.

Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow! Come, prick me Bull-calf till he roar again.

Bull. O lord! good my lord captain,

Fal. What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked? Bull. O lord, sir! I am a diseased man.

Fal. What disease hast thou?

Bull. A whoreson cold, sir; a cough, sir; which I caught with ringing in the king's affairs, upon his coronation day, sir.

Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown; we will have away thy cold; and I will take such order, that thy friends shall ring for thee. — Is here

all?

Shal. Here is two more called than your number; you must have but four here, sir;—and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner.

Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot

tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, in good troth, master Shallow.

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.

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

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; -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

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:-O, 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.

Fee. By my troth I care not; -a man can die but once ;- We owe God a death; - I'll ne'er bear a base mind: -an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince; and, let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next.

Bard. Well said; thou'rt a good fellow.
Fee. 'Faith, I'll bear no base mind.

Re-enter FALSTAFF, and Justices.

Fal. Come, sir, which men shall I have? Shal. Four of which you please. Bard. Sir, a word with you :- I have three pound to free Mouldy and Bull-calf.

Fal. Go to; well.

Shal. Come, sir John, which four will you have?
Fal. Do you choose for me.
Shal. Marry then, Mouldy, Bull-calf, Feeble,

and Shadow.

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 me 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:

1:-go to:-very good:-exceeding good. O, 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, visit my house; let our old acquaintance be renewed: 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. 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, Lord, lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying! This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbullstreet; and every third word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement's inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring: when he was naked, he was, for ali the world, like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife: he was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible. he was the very Genius of famine; yet lecherous as a monkey, and the whores called him- mandrake: he came ever in the rear-ward of the fashion; and sung those tunes to the over-scutched huswifes that he heard the carmen whistle, 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

SCENE I.-A Forest in Yorkshire.
Enter the Archbishop of YORK, MOWBRAY,
HASTINGS, and others.

Arch. What is this forest call'd?

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

Arch. Here stand, my lords: and send discoverers 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 sortange 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.

Moub. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground,

And dash themselves to pieces.

Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
Mowb. 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;

What doth concern your coming?
West.

Then, my lord,
Unto your grace do I in chief address
The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
And countenanc'd by boys, and beggary;
I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd,
In his true, native, and most proper shape,
You, reverend father, and these noble lords,
Had not been here, to dress the ugly form
Of base and bloody insurrection
With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop,
Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd;

Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd
Whose learning and good letters peace hath 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:
When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs.
We are denied access unto his person
Even by those men that most have done us wrong
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.

Ff

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,
cousin 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,
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: O, who shall believe,
But you misuse the reverence of your place;
Employ the countenance and grace of heaven,
As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up,
Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
The subjects of his substitute, my father;
And, both against the peace of heaven and him,
Have here up-swarm'd them.

Arch.

my

lord

Good my lord of Lancaster, I am not here against your father's peace : But, as I told my lord of Westmoreland, The time misorder'd doth, in common sense, Croud us, and crush us, to this monstrous form, To hold our safety up. I sent your grace The parcels and particulars of our grief;

1. 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 redresses. P. John. I give it you, and will maintain my word: And thereupon I drink unto your grace.

Hast. Go, captain, [to an Officer.] and deliver 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