companions Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, 'Tis needful that the most immodest word Be look'd upon and learnt; which once attain'd, Your Highness knows, comes to no further use But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms, The Prince will, in the perfectness of time, Cast off his followers; and their memory Shall as a pattern or a measure live By which his Grace must mete the lives of other, Turning past evils to advantages. KING. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb In the dead carrion. Enter WESTMORELAND Who's here? Westmoreland? WESTMORELAND. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness Added to that that am to deliver! Prince John, your son, doth kiss your Grace's hand. Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all, Are brought to the correction of your law. There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere. The manner how this action hath been borne Here at more leisure may your Highness read, With every course in his particular. KING. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, Which ever in the haunch of winter sings The lifting up of day. Enter HARCOURT Look here's more news. HARCOURT. From enemies heaven keep your Majesty; And, when they stand against you, may they fall As those that I am come to tell you of! The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, With a great power of English and of Scots, Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown. The manner and true order of the fight This packet, please it you, contains at large. KING. And wherefore should these good news make me sick? Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest letters? She either gives a stomach and no food- Such are the poor, in health- or else a feast, And takes away the stomach- such are the rich That have abundance and enjoy it not. I should rejoice now at this happy news; And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy. O me! come near me now I am much ill. PRINCE HUMPHREY. Comfort, your Majesty! CLARENCE. O my royal father! WESTMORELAND. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up. WARWICK. Be patient, Princes; you do know these fits Are with his Highness very ordinary. Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well. CLARENCE. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs. Th' incessant care and labour of his mind Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in So thin that life looks through, and will break out. PRINCE HUMPHREY. The people fear me; for they do observe Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature. The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep, and leapt them over. CLARENCE. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between; And the old folk, Time's doting chronicles, Say it did so a little time before That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died. WARWICK. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers. PRINCE HUMPHREY. This apoplexy will certain be his end. KING. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence Into some other chamber. Softly, pray. Exeunt SCENE V. Westminster. Another chamber The KING lying on a bed; CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others in attendance KING. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit. WARWICK. Call for the music in the other room. KING. Set me the crown upon my pillow here. CLARENCE. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. WARWICK. Less noise! less noise! Enter PRINCE HENRY PRINCE. Who saw the Duke of Clarence? CLARENCE. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. PRINCE. How now! Rain within doors, and none abroad! How doth the King? PRINCE HUMPHREY. Exceeding ill. PRINCE. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him. PRINCE HUMPHREY. He alt'red much upon the hearing it. PRINCE. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic. WARWICK. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet Prince, speak low; The King your father is dispos'd to sleep. CLARENCE. Let us withdraw into the other room. WARWICK. Will't please your Grace to go along with us? PRINCE. No; I will sit and watch here by the King. Exeunt all but the PRINCE Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now! Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet As he whose brow with homely biggen bound Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath There lies a downy feather which stirs not. Did he suspire, that light and weightless down Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father! This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings. Thy due from me Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood Which nature, love, and filial tenderness, Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously. My due from thee is this imperial crown, Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it sits- Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force This lineal honour from me. This from thee Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit KING. Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence! Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE CLARENCE. Doth the King call? WARWICK. What would your Majesty? How fares your Grace? KING. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? CLARENCE. We left the Prince my brother here, my liege, Who undertook to sit and watch by you. KING. The Prince of Wales! Where is he? Let me see him. He is not here. WARWICK. This door is open; he is gone this way. PRINCE HUMPHREY. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd. KING. Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow? WARWICK. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. KING. The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go, seek him out. Is he so hasty that he doth suppose My sleep my death? Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither. Exit WARWICK This part of his conjoins with my disease And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are! How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, Their brains with care, their bones with industry; For this they have engrossed and pil'd up The cank'red heaps of strange-achieved gold; For this they have been thoughtful to invest Their sons with arts and martial exercises; When, like the bee, tolling from every flower The virtuous sweets, Our thighs with wax, our mouths with honey pack'd, We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees, Are murd'red for our pains. This bitter taste Yields his engrossments to the ending father. Re-enter WARWICK Now where is he that will not stay so long Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me? WARWICK. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room, Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks, With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow, That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood, Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither. KING. But wherefore did he take away the crown? Re-enter PRINCE HENRY Lo where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry. Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. Exeunt all but the KING and the PRINCE PRINCE. I never thought to hear you speak again. KING. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth! Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee. Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity Is held from falling with so weak a wind That it will quickly drop; my day is dim. Thou hast stol'n that which, after some few hours, Were thine without offense; and at my death Thou hast seal'd up my expectation. Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not, And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it. Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, To stab at half an hour of my life. What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour? Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself; And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear That thou art crowned, not that I am dead. Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head; Only compound me with forgotten dust; Give that which gave thee life unto the worms. Pluck down my officers, break my decrees; For now a time is come to mock at form- Harry the Fifth is crown'd. Up, vanity: Down, royal state. All you sage counsellors, hence. And to the English court assemble now, From every region, apes of idleness. Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum. Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit The oldest sins the newest kind of ways? Be happy, he will trouble you no more. England shall double gild his treble guilt; England shall give him office, honour, might; For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows! When that my care could not withhold thy riots, What wilt thou do when riot is thy care? O, thou wilt be a wilderness again. Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants! PRINCE. O, pardon me, my liege! But for my tears, The moist impediments unto my speech, I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard The course of it so far. There is your crown, And he that wears the crown immortally Long guard it yours! [Kneeling] If I affect it more Than as your honour and as your renown, Let me no more from this obedience rise, Which my most inward true and duteous spirit Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending! God witness with me, when I here came in And found no course of breath within your Majesty, How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign, O, let me in my present wildness die, And never live to show th' incredulous world The noble change that I have purposed! Coming to look on you, thinking you dead- And dead almost, my liege, to think you were- I spake unto this crown as having sense, And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending Hath fed upon the body of my father; Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold. Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, Preserving life in med'cine potable; But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege, Accusing it, I put it on my head, To try with it- as with an enemy That had before my face murd'red my father- The quarrel of a true inheritor. But if it did infect my blood with joy, Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride; If any rebel or vain spirit of mine Did with the least affection of a welcome Give entertainment to the might of it, Let God for ever keep it from my head, And make me as the poorest vassal is, That doth with awe and terror kneel to it! KING. O my son, God put it in thy mind to take it hence, That thou mightst win the more thy father's love, Pleading so wisely in excuse of it! Come hither, Harry; sit thou by my bed, And hear, I think, the very latest counsel That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son, By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways I met this crown; and I myself know well How troublesome it sat upon my head: To thee it shall descend with better quiet, Better opinion, better confirmation; For all the soil of the achievement goes With me into the earth. It seem'd in me But as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand; And I had many living to upbraid My gain of it by their assistances; Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed, Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears Thou seest with peril I have answered; For all my reign hath been but as a scene Acting that argument. And now my death Changes the mood; for what in me was purchas'd Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort; So thou the garland wear'st successively. Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do, Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green; And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends, Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out; By whose fell working I was first advanc'd, And by whose power I well might lodge a fear To be again displac'd; which to avoid, I cut them off; and had a purpose now To lead out many to the Holy Land, Lest rest and lying still might make them look Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, Be it thy course to busy giddy minds With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out, May waste the memory of the former days. More would I, but my lungs are wasted so That strength of speech is utterly denied me. How I came by the crown, O God, forgive; And grant it may with thee in true peace live! PRINCE. My gracious liege, You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me; Then plain and right must my possession be; Which I with more than with a common pain 'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain. Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others KING. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. PRINCE JOHN. Health, peace, and happiness, to my royal father! KING. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John; But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown From this bare wither'd trunk. Upon thy sight My worldly business makes a period. Where is my Lord of Warwick? PRINCE. My Lord of Warwick! KING. Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did swoon? WARWICK. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord. KING. Laud be to God! Even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem; Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land. But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE I. Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S house Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and PAGE SHALLOW. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night. What, Davy, I say! FALSTAFF. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow. SHALLOW. I will not excuse you; you shall not be excus'd; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excus'd. Why, Davy! Enter DAVY DAVY. Here, sir. SHALLOW. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see- yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excus'd. DAVY. Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and, again, sir- shall we sow the headland with wheat? SHALLOW. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook- are there no young pigeons? DAVY. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing and plough-irons. SHALLOW. Let it be cast, and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused. DAVY. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had; and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair? SHALLOW. 'A shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legg'd hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. DAVY. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? SHALLOW. Yea, Davy; I will use him well. A friend i' th' court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves and will backbite. DAVY. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen. SHALLOW. Well conceited, Davy- about thy business, Davy. DAVY. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes o' th' hill. SHALLOW. There, is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor. That Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge. DAVY. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have serv'd your worship truly, sir, this eight years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech you, let him be countenanc'd. SHALLOW. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, DAVY. [Exit DAVY] Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph. BARDOLPH. I am glad to see your worship. SHALLOW. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph. [To the PAGE] And welcome, my tall fellow. Come, Sir John. FALSTAFF. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. [Exit SHALLOW] Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE] If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his. They, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices: he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man. Their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their master; if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another; therefore let men take heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions; and 'a shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath, and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up! SHALLOW. [Within] Sir John! FALSTAFF. I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow. Exit SCENE II. Westminster. The palace Enter, severally, WARWICK, and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE WARWICK. How now, my Lord Chief Justice; whither away? CHIEF JUSTICE. How doth the King? WARWICK. Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended. CHIEF JUSTICE. I hope, not dead. WARWICK. He's walk'd the way of nature; And to our purposes he lives no more. CHIEF JUSTICE. I would his Majesty had call'd me with him. The service that I truly did his life Hath left me open to all injuries. WARWICK. Indeed, I think the young king loves you not. CHIEF JUSTICE. I know he doth not, and do arm myself To welcome the condition of the time, Which cannot look more hideously upon me Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WESTMORELAND, and others WARWICK. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry. O that the living Harry had the temper Of he, the worst of these three gentlemen! How many nobles then should hold their places That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort! CHIEF JUSTICE. O God, I fear all will be overturn'd. PRINCE JOHN. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. GLOUCESTER & CLARENCE. Good morrow, cousin. PRINCE JOHN. We meet like men that had forgot to speak. WARWICK. We do remember; but our argument Is all too heavy to admit much talk. PRINCE JOHN. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy! CHIEF JUSTICE. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier! PRINCE HUMPHREY. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed; And I dare swear you borrow not that face Of seeming sorrow- it is sure your own. PRINCE JOHN. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find, You stand in coldest expectation. I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise. CLARENCE. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair; Which swims against your stream of quality. CHIEF JUSTICE. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour, Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul; And never shall you see that I will beg A ragged and forestall'd remission. If truth and upright innocency fail me, I'll to the King my master that is dead, And tell him who hath sent me after him. WARWICK. Here comes the Prince. Enter KING HENRY THE FIFTH, attended CHIEF JUSTICE. Good morrow, and God save your Majesty! KING. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty, Sits not so easy on me as you think. Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear. This is the English, not the Turkish court; Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, For, by my faith, it very well becomes you. Sorrow so royally in you appears That I will deeply put the fashion on, And wear it in my heart. Why, then, be sad; But entertain no more of it, good brothers, Than a joint burden laid upon us all. For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd, I'll be your father and your brother too; Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares. Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I; But Harry lives that shall convert those tears By number into hours of happiness. BROTHERS. We hope no otherwise from your Majesty. KING. You all look strangely on me; and you most. You are, I think, assur'd I love you not. CHIEF JUSTICE. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly, Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me. KING. No? How might a prince of my great hopes forget So great indignities you laid upon me? What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison, Th' immediate heir of England! Was this easy? May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten? CHIEF JUSTICE. I then did use the person of your father; The image of his power lay then in me; And in th' administration of his law, Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, Your Highness pleased to forget my place, The majesty and power of law and justice, The image of the King whom I presented, And struck me in my very seat of judgment; Whereon, as an offender to your father, I gave bold way to my authority And did commit you. If the deed were ill, Be you contented, wearing now the garland, To have a son set your decrees at nought, To pluck down justice from your awful bench, To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword That guards the peace and safety of your person; Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image, And mock your workings in a second body. Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours; Be now the father, and propose a son; Hear your own dignity so much profan'd, See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd; And then imagine me taking your part And, in your power, soft silencing your son. After this cold considerance, sentence me; And, as you are a king, speak in your state What I have done that misbecame my place, My person, or my liege's sovereignty. KING. You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well; Therefore still bear the balance and the sword; And I do wish your honours may increase Till you do live to see a son of mine Offend you, and obey you, as I did. So shall I live to speak my father's words: 'Happy am I that have a man so bold That dares do justice on my proper son; And not less happy, having such a son That would deliver up his greatness so Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me; For which I do commit into your hand Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear; With this remembrance- that you use the same With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand. You shall be as a father to my youth; My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear; And I will stoop and humble my intents To your well-practis'd wise directions. And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you, My father is gone wild into his grave, For in his tomb lie my affections; And with his spirits sadly I survive, To mock the expectation of the world, To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down After my seeming. The tide of blood in me Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now. Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, Where it shall mingle with the state of floods, And flow henceforth in formal majesty. Now call we our high court of parliament; And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, That the great body of our state may go In equal rank with the best govern'd nation; That war, or peace, or both at once, may be As things acquainted and familiar to us; In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. Our coronation done, we will accite, As I before rememb'red, all our state; And- God consigning to my good intents- No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, God shorten Harry's happy life one day. Exeunt SCENE III. Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S orchard Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the PAGE, and DAVY SHALLOW. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth. Come, cousin Silence. And then to bed. FALSTAFF. Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and rich. SHALLOW. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John -marry, good air. Spread, Davy, spread, Davy; well said, Davy. FALSTAFF. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man and your husband. SHALLOW. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. A good varlet. Now sit down, now sit down; come, cousin. SILENCE. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a- we shall [Singing] Do nothing but eat and make good cheer, And praise God for the merry year; When flesh is cheap and females dear, And lusty lads roam here and there, So merrily, And ever among so merrily. FALSTAFF. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon. SHALLOW. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy. DAVY. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet sir, sit. Master Page, good Master Page, sit. Proface! What you want in meat, we'll have in drink. But you must bear; the heart's all. Exit SHALLOW. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there, be merry. SILENCE. [Singing] Be merry, be merry, my wife has all; For women are shrews, both short and tall; 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag an; And welcome merry Shrove-tide. Be merry, be merry. FALSTAFF. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle. SILENCE. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now. Re-enter DAVY DAVY. [To BARDOLPH] There's a dish of leather-coats for you. SHALLOW. Davy! DAVY. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. [To BARDOLPH] A cup of wine, sir? SILENCE. [Singing] A cup of wine that's brisk and fine, And drink unto the leman mine; And a merry heart lives long-a. FALSTAFF. Well said, Master Silence. SILENCE. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' th' night. FALSTAFF. Health and long life to you, Master Silence! SILENCE. [Singing] Fill the cup, and let it come, I'll pledge you a mile to th' bottom. SHALLOW. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the cabileros about London. DAVY. I hope to see London once ere I die. BARDOLPH. An I might see you there, Davy! SHALLOW. By the mass, you'R crack a quart together- ha! will you not, Master Bardolph? BARDOLPH. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. SHALLOW. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out, 'a; 'tis true bred. BARDOLPH. And I'll stick by him, sir. SHALLOW. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing; be merry. [One knocks at door] Look who's at door there, ho! Who knocks? Exit DAVY FALSTAFF. [To SILENCE, who has drunk a bumper] Why, now you have done me right. SILENCE. [Singing] Do me right, And dub me knight. Samingo. Is't not so? FALSTAFF. 'Tis so. SILENCE. Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat. Re-enter DAVY DAVY. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come from the court with news. FALSTAFF. From the court? Let him come in. Enter PISTOL How now, Pistol? PISTOL. Sir John, God save you! FALSTAFF. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? PISTOL. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm. SILENCE. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of Barson. PISTOL. Puff! Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base! Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, And helter-skelter have I rode to thee; And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, And golden times, and happy news of price. FALSTAFF. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world. PISTOL. A foutra for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys. FALSTAFF. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. SILENCE. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. PISTOL. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? And shall good news be baffled? Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. SHALLOW. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding. PISTOL. Why, then, lament therefore. SHALLOW. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it there's but two ways- either to utter them or conceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority. PISTOL. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die. SHALLOW. Under King Harry. PISTOL. Harry the Fourth- or Fifth? SHALLOW. Harry the Fourth. PISTOL. A foutra for thine office! Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King; Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth. When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like The bragging Spaniard. FALSTAFF. What, is the old king dead? PISTOL. As nail in door. The things I speak are just. FALSTAFF. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double-charge thee with dignities. BARDOLPH. O joyful day! I would not take a knighthood for my fortune. PISTOL. What, I do bring good news? FALSTAFF. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt- I am Fortune's steward. Get on thy boots; we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph! [Exit BARDOLPH] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow! I know the young King is sick for me. Let us take any man's horses: the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are they that have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief Justice! PISTOL. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! 'Where is the life that late I led?' say they. Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt SCENE IV. London. A street Enter BEADLES, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET HOSTESS. No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die, that I might have thee hang'd. Thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint. FIRST BEADLE. The constables have delivered her over to me; and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her. There hath been a man or two lately kill'd about her. DOLL. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, thou damn'd tripe-visag'd rascal, an the child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-fac'd villain. HOSTESS. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry! FIRST BEADLE. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you. DOLL. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swing'd for this- you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famish'd correctioner, if you be not swing'd, I'll forswear half-kirtles. FIRST BEADLE. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. HOSTESS. O God, that right should thus overcome might! Well, of sufferance comes ease. DOLL. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice. HOSTESS. Ay, come, you starv'd bloodhound. DOLL. Goodman death, goodman bones! HOSTESS. Thou atomy, thou! DOLL. Come, you thin thing! come, you rascal! FIRST BEADLE. Very well. Exeunt SCENE V. Westminster. Near the Abbey Enter GROOMS, strewing rushes FIRST GROOM. More rushes, more rushes! SECOND GROOM. The trumpets have sounded twice. THIRD GROOM. 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come from the coronation. Dispatch, dispatch. Exeunt Trumpets sound, and the KING and his train pass over the stage. After them enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and page FALSTAFF. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will make the King do you grace. I will leer upon him, as 'a comes by; and do but mark the countenance that he will give me. PISTOL. God bless thy lungs, good knight! FALSTAFF. Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. [To SHALLOW] O, if I had had to have made new liveries, I would have bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But 'tis no matter; this poor show doth better; this doth infer the zeal I had to see him. SHALLOW. It doth so. FALSTAFF. It shows my earnestness of affection- SHALLOW. It doth so. FALSTAFF. My devotion- SHALLOW. It doth, it doth, it doth. FALSTAFF. As it were, to ride day and night; and not to deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience to shift me- SHALLOW. It is best, certain. FALSTAFF. But to stand stained with travel, and sweating with desire to see him; thinking of nothing else, putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be done but to see him. PISTOL. 'Tis 'semper idem' for 'obsque hoc nihil est.' 'Tis all in every part. SHALLOW. 'Tis so, indeed. PISTOL. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver And make thee rage. Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts, Is in base durance and contagious prison; Hal'd thither By most mechanical and dirty hand. Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's snake, For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth. FALSTAFF. I will deliver her. [Shouts,within, and the trumpets sound] PISTOL. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. Enter the KING and his train, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE among them FALSTAFF. God save thy Grace, King Hal; my royal Hal! PISTOL. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame! FALSTAFF. God save thee, my sweet boy! KING. My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man. CHIEF JUSTICE. Have you your wits? Know you what 'tis you speak? FALSTAFF. My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart! KING. I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers. How ill white hairs become a fool and jester! I have long dreamt of such a kind of man, So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane; But being awak'd, I do despise my dream. Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace; Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men- Reply not to me with a fool-born jest; Presume not that I am the thing I was, For God doth know, so shall the world perceive, That I have turn'd away my former self; So will I those that kept me company. When thou dost hear I am as I have been, Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast, The tutor and the feeder of my riots. Till then I banish thee, on pain of death, As I have done the rest of my misleaders, Not to come near our person by ten mile. For competence of life I will allow you, That lack of means enforce you not to evils; And, as we hear you do reform yourselves, We will, according to your strengths and qualities, Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord, To see perform'd the tenour of our word. Set on. Exeunt the KING and his train FALSTAFF. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pounds. SHALLOW. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have home with me. FALSTAFF. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grieve at this; I shall be sent for in private to him. Look you, he must seem thus to the world. Fear not your advancements; I will be the man yet that shall make you great. SHALLOW. I cannot perceive how, unless you give me your doublet, and stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me have five hundred of my thousand. FALSTAFF. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you heard was but a colour. SHALLOW. A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John. FALSTAFF. Fear no colours; go with me to dinner. Come, Lieutenant Pistol; come, Bardolph. I shall be sent for soon at night. Re-enter PRINCE JOHN, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, with officers CHIEF JUSTICE. Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet; Take all his company along with him. FALSTAFF. My lord, my lord- CHIEF JUSTICE. I cannot now speak. I will hear you soon. Take them away. PISTOL. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta. Exeunt all but PRINCE JOHN and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE PRINCE JOHN. I like this fair proceeding of the King's. He hath intent his wonted followers Shall all be very well provided for; But all are banish'd till their conversations Appear more wise and modest to the world. CHIEF JUSTICE. And so they are. PRINCE JOHN. The King hath call'd his parliament, my lord. CHIEF JUSTICE. He hath. PRINCE JOHN. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire, We bear our civil swords and native fire As far as France. I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleas'd the King. Come, will you hence? Exeunt EPILOGUE EPILOGUE. First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My fear, is your displeasure; my curtsy,