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    Henry IV, Part 2

    Page 8
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      HOSTESS QUICKLY All victuallers do so. What is a joint of mutton

      or two in a whole Lent?

      PRINCE HENRY You, gentlewoman—

      To Doll

      DOLL TEARSHEET What says your grace?

      FALSTAFF His grace says that which his flesh

      rebels against.

      Knocking within

      HOSTESS QUICKLY Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door

      there, Francis.

      Enter Peto

      PRINCE HENRY 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.

      PRINCE HENRY By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,

      So idly to profane 332 profane i.e. misuse the precious time,

      When tempest of commotion, like the south

      Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt

      And drop upon our bare unarmèd heads.—

      Give me my sword and cloak.— Falstaff, goodnight.

      Exeunt [Prince Henry, Poins and Peto]

      FALSTAFF Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and

      we must hence and leave it unpicked. More knocking at the

      door? How now? What’s the matter?

      Knocking within

      Bardolph goes to the door

      BARDOLPH You must away to court, sir, presently.

      A dozen captains stay at door for you.

      FALSTAFF Pay the musicians, sirrah.— Farewell,

      To the Page

      hostess.— Farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how

      men of merit are sought after. The undeserver may sleep,

      when the man of action is called on. Farewell good wenches.

      If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.

      DOLL TEARSHEET I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to

      burst—well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

      FALSTAFF Farewell, farewell.

      Exeunt [Falstaff, Bardolph and Page]

      HOSTESS QUICKLY Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these

      twenty-nine years, come peascod-time, but an honester and

      truer-hearted man—well, fare thee well.

      BARDOLPH Mistress Tearsheet!

      Within

      HOSTESS QUICKLY What’s the matter?

      BARDOLPH Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.

      Within

      HOSTESS QUICKLY O, run, Doll, run. Run, good Doll!

      Exeunt

      Act 3 Scene 1

      running scene 8

      Location: the royal court

      Enter the King, with a Page

      KING HENRY IV Go call the Earls of Surrey and of

      Warwick.

      Gives letters

      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? O sleep, O 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 hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,

      Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,

      Under the canopies of costly state,

      And lulled 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 slipp’ry clouds,

      That, with the hurly, 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

      WARWICK Many good morrows to your majesty!

      KING HENRY IV Is it good morrow, lords?

      WARWICK ’Tis one o’clock, and past.

      KING HENRY IV Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.

      Have you read o’er the letters that I sent you?

      WARWICK We have, my liege.

      KING HENRY IV 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?

      WARWICK It is but as a body yet distempered,

      Which to his former strength may be restored

      With good advice and little medicine:

      My lord Northumberland will soon be cooled.

      KING HENRY IV 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 chance’s mocks

      And changes fill the cup of alteration

      With divers liquors! ’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 toiled 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 Neville, as I may remember—

      To Warwick

      When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,

      Then checked and rated by Northumberland,

      Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy?

      ‘Northumberland, thou ladder by the which

      My cousin Bullingbrook ascends my throne’ —

      Though then, heaven knows, I had no such intent,

      But that necessity so bowed the state

      That I and greatness were compelled 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.

      WARWICK There is a history in all men’s lives,

      Figuring the nature of the times deceased,

      The which observed, 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 intreasurèd.

      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.

      KING HENRY IV 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.

      WARWICK It cannot be, my lord.

      Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,

      The numbers of the feared. 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.

      To comfort you the more, I have received

      A certain instance that Glendower is dead.

      Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill,

      And these unseasoned hours perforce must add

      Unto your sickness.

      KING HENRY IV I will take your counsel.

      And were these inward wars once out of hand,

      We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.

      Exeunt

      Act 3 Scene 2

      running scene 9

      Enter Shallow and Silence, with Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf [and Servants]

      SHALLOW Come on, come on, come on. Give me your hand,

      sir; give me your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by the rood ! And

      how doth my good cousin Silence?

      SILENCE Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.

      SHALLOW And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow ? And your

      fairest daughter and mine, my goddaughter Ellen?

      SILENCE Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow!

      SHALLOW By yea and nay, sir. I dare say my cousin William is

      become a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not?

      SILENCE Indeed, sir, to my cost.

      SHALLOW He must then to the Inns Inns of Court of Court shortly. I was

      once of Clement’s ’s Inn, where I think they will talk of mad

      Shallow yet.

      SILENCE You were called ‘lusty Shallow’ then, cousin.

      SHALLOW I was called anything, and I would have done

      anything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little

      John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and

      Francis Pickbone and Will Squele a Cotswold , man. You had

      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

      and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was

      Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas

      Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

      SILENCE This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about

      soldiers?

      SHALLOW The same Sir John, the very same. I saw him break

      Scoggin’s head at the court-gate , when he was a crack 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!

      SILENCE We shall all follow, cousin.

      SHALLOW Certain, ’tis certain, very sure, very sure: death is

      certain to all, all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at

      Stamford Fair?

      SILENCE Truly, cousin, I was not there.

      SHALLOW Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living

      yet?

      SILENCE Dead, sir.

      SHALLOW 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 clapped in

      the clout at twelvescore, 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?

      SILENCE Thereafter as they be : a score of good ewes may be

      worth ten pounds.

      SHALLOW And is old Double dead?

      Enter Bardolph and his Boy [Falstaff’s Page]

      SILENCE Here come two of Sir John Falstaff’s men, as I think.

      SHALLOW Good morrow, honest gentlemen.

      BARDOLPH I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?

      SHALLOW 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?

      BARDOLPH My captain, sir, commends him to you—my captain,

      Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, and a most gallant leader.

      SHALLOW 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?

      BARDOLPH Sir, pardon. A soldier is better accommodated than

      with a wife.

      SHALLOW It is well said, sir; and it is well said indeed too.

      Better accommodated! It is good, yea, indeed, is it. Good

      phrases are surely, and everywhere, very commendable.

      Accommodated! It comes of accommodo . Very good, a good

      phrase .

      BARDOLPH Pardon, sir, I have heard the word. Phrase call you

      it? By this 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

      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 Falstaff

      SHALLOW It is very just . Look, here comes good Sir John. Give

      me your good hand, give me your worship’s good hand.

      Trust me, you look well and bear your years very well.

      Welcome, good Sir John.

      FALSTAFF I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert

      Shallow.— Master Surecard, as I think?

      SHALLOW No, Sir John, it is my cousin Silence, in commission

      with me.

      FALSTAFF Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be

      of the peace .

      SILENCE Your good worship is welcome.

      FALSTAFF Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you

      provided me here half a dozen of sufficient men?

      SHALLOW Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?

      FALSTAFF Let me see them, I beseech you.

      They sit

      SHALLOW 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.— Ralph Mouldy! Let them appear as I call, let them do so,

      let them do so. Let me see, where is Mouldy?

      MOULDY Here, if it please you.

      SHALLOW What think you, Sir John? A good-limbed fellow:

      young, strong, and of good friends .

      FALSTAFF Is thy name Mouldy?

      MOULDY Yea, if it please you.

      FALSTAFF ’Tis the more time thou wert used.

      SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha! Most excellent! Things that are mouldy

      lack use: very singular good. Well said, Sir John, very well

      said.

      FALSTAFF Prick him.

      MOULDY I was pricked well enough before, if 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.

      FALSTAFF Go to. Peace, Mouldy, you shall go. Mouldy, it is time

      you were spent .

      MOULDY Spent?

      SHALLOW Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside. Know you where

      you are?— For the other, Sir John, let me see.— Simon

      Shadow?

      FALSTAFF Ay, marry, let me have him to sit under: he’s like to

      be a cold soldier.

      SHALLOW Where’s Shadow?

      SHADOW Here, sir.

      FALSTAFF
    Shadow, whose son art thou?

      SHADOW My mother’s son, sir.

      FALSTAFF 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 of the father’s substance !

      SHALLOW Do you like him, Sir John?

      FALSTAFF Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him,— for we

      have a number of shadows to fill up the muster book.

      Aside

      SHALLOW Thomas Wart?

      FALSTAFF Where’s he?

      WART Here, sir.

      FALSTAFF Is thy name Wart?

      WART Yea, sir.

      FALSTAFF Thou art a very ragged wart.

      SHALLOW Shall I prick him down, Sir John?

      FALSTAFF It were superfluous, for his apparel is built upon his

      back, and the whole frame stands upon pins. Prick him no

      more.

      SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha! You can do it, sir, you can do it. I

      commend you well.— Francis Feeble?

      FEEBLE Here, sir.

      FALSTAFF What trade art thou, Feeble?

      FEEBLE A woman’s tailor , sir.

      SHALLOW Shall I prick him, sir?

      FALSTAFF 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?

      FEEBLE I will do my good will, sir. You can have no more.

      FALSTAFF 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.

      FEEBLE I would Wart might have gone, sir.

      FALSTAFF I would thou wert a man’s tailor, that thou mightst

      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.

      FEEBLE It shall suffice.

      FALSTAFF I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble.— Who is the

      next?

      SHALLOW Peter Bullcalf of the green ?

      FALSTAFF Yea, marry, let us see Bullcalf.

      BULLCALF Here, sir.

      FALSTAFF Trust me, a likely fellow! Come, prick me Bullcalf till

      he roar again .

      BULLCALF O, good my lord captain—

      FALSTAFF What, dost thou roar before th’art pricked?

      BULLCALF O, sir! I am a diseased man.

     


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