Billeder på siden

and for thy walls,-a pretty slight drollery, or | princely got; for, by my troth, I do now rethe story of the prodigal, or the German hunt- member the poor creature, small beer. But, ing in water-work, is worth a thousand of indeed, these humble considerations make me these bed-hangings, and these fly-bitten tapes-out of love with my greatness. What a distries. Let it be ten pound, if thou canst. grace is it to me, to remember thy name? or to Come, an it were not for thy humours, there is know thy face to-morrow? or to take note how not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy many pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. face, and 'draw* thy action: Come, thou must these, and those that were the peach-colour'd not be in this humour with me; dost not know ones? or to bear the inventory of thy shirts; as, me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to one for superfluity, and one other for use?-but this. that, the tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee, when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy lowcountries have made a shift to eat up thy Holland: and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen, shall inherit his kingdom: but the midwives say, the children are not in the fault; whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened.

Host. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles; i'faith I am loath to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la.

Fal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a fool still.

Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope, you'll come to supper: You'll pay me all together?

Fal. Will I live?-Go, with her, with her; [TO BARDOLPH.] hook on, hook on. Host. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at supper?

Fal. No more words; let's have her.

[Exeunt HOSTESS, BARDOLPH, Officers,
and PAGE.

Ch. Just. I have heard better news.
Fal. What's the news, my good lord?
Ch. Just. Where lay the king last night?
Gow. At Basingstoke, my lord.

Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well: What's the news, my lord?

Ch. Just. Come all his forces back?
Gow. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred

Are march'd up to my lord of Lancaster,
Against Northumberland, and the archbishop.
Fal. Comes the king back from Wales, my
noble lord?

Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently: Come, go along with me, good master Gower.

Fal. My lord!

Ch. Just. What's the matter?

Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?

Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here: I thank you, good Sir John.

Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, seeing you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go.

Fal. Will you sup with me, master Gower? Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John?

Fal. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me.-This is the right fencing grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair.

Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. [Exeunt. SCENE 11.-The same.-Another Street.

Enter Prince HENRY and POINS." P. Hen. Trust me, I am exceeding weary. Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought, weariness durst not have attached one of so high blood.

P. Hen. 'Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me,

to desire small beer?

[blocks in formation]

Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you should talk so idly? Tell me, how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is?

P. Hen. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes; and let it be an excellent good thing.

P. Hen. It will serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.

Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.

P. Hen. Why, I tell thee,-it is not meet that I should be sad, now my father is sick : albeit I could tell to thee, (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend,) I could be sad, and sad indeed too.

Poins. Very hardly, upon such a subject.

P. Hen. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in the devil's book, as thou, and Falstaff, for obduracy and persistency: Let the end try the man. But I tell thee,-my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is so sick and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. Poins. The reason?

P. Hen. What would'st thou think of me, if I should weep?

Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.

P. Hen. It would be every man's thought: and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks; never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine: every man would think me a hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought, to think so?

Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so much engraffed to Falstaff. P. Hen. And to thee.

Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear it with my own ears: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.

P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had him from me Christian; and look, if the fat villain hath not transformed him ape.

Bard. 'Save your grace!

P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph!
Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, [To the PAGE.

'⋆ Children wrapped up in his old shirts

you bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you become? Is it such a matter, to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead.

Page. He called me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the window: at last, I spied his eyes; and, methought, he had made two holes in the ale-wife's new petticoat, and peeped through.

P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!

Puge. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away!

P. Hen. Instruct us, boy: What dream, boy? Fage. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was delivered of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream.

P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation.-There it is, boy. [Gives him money. Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from cankers!-Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.

Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among you, the gallows shall have wrong. P. Hen. And how doth thy master, Bardolph?

Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to town; there's a letter for you. Poins. Delivered with good respect.-And how doth the martlemas,t your master?

Bard. In bodily health, Sir.

Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician: but that moves not him; though that be sick, it dies not.

P. Hen. I do allow this went to be as familiar with me as my dog: and he holds his place; for, look you, how he writes.

Poins. [Reads.] John Falstaff, knight,Every man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself. Even like those that are kin to the king; for they never prick their finger, but they say, There is some of the king's blood spilt: How comes that? says he, that takes upon him not to conceive: the answer is as ready as a borrower's cap; I am the king's pour cousin, Sir.

P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But the letter:Poins. Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting.--Why, this is a certificate. P. Hen. Peace!

Poins. I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity:--he sure means brevity in breath; short-winded.-I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar

with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears, thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may'st, and so fure


Thine, by yea and no, (which is as much as to say, as thou usest him,) Jack Falstaff, with my familiars; John, with my brothers and sisters; and Sir John, with all Europe. My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and

make him eat it.

P. Hen. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?

Poins. May the wench have no worse fortune! but I never said so.

An ale-house window.

+ Martiamas, St. Martin's day is Nov. 11.

1 Swoln excrescence.

P. Hen. Well, thus we play the fools with the time; and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.-Is your master here in London?

Bard. Yes, my lord.

P. Hen. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?*

Bard. At the old place, my lord; in Eastcheap.

P. Hen. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church. P. Hen. Sup any women with him? Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and mistress Doll Tear-sheet. P. Hen. What Pagan may that be? Page. A proper gentlewoman, Sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.

P. Hen. Even such kin, as the parish heifers are to the town bull.-Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll fol low you.

P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy,—and Bardolph;no word to your master, that I am yet come to town: There's for your silence.

Burd. I have no tongue, Sir.

Page. And for mine, Sir, I will govern it. P. Hen. Fare ye well; go. [Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE.]-This Doll Tear-sheet should be some road.

Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.

P. Hen. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

Poins. Put on two leather jerkins, and aprons, and wait upon him at his table as drawers.

P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension! it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be mine: for, in every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned.


[blocks in formation]

He had no legs, that practised not his gait:
And speaking thick, which nature made his
Became the accents of the valiant; [blemish,
For those that could speak low, and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him: So that, in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark and glass, copy and book, That fashion'd others. And him,-O wondrous him!

O miracle of men!-him did you leave,
(Second to none, unseconded by you,)
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage; to abide a field,
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible-so you left him:
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong,
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others, than with him; let them alone;
The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong:
Had my sweet Harry had but half their num-

To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

North. Beshrew* your heart,

Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from
With new lamenting ancient oversights. [me,
But I must go, and meet with danger there;
Or it will seek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.

Lady N. O, fly to Scotland,

Till that the nobles, and the armed commons, Have of their puissance made a little taste. Lady P. If they get ground and vantage of

the king,

Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, To make strength stronger; but, for all our


First let them try themselves: So did your son;
He was so suffer'd; so came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough,
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as hea-
For recordation to my noble husband. [ven,
North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with
my mind,

As with the tide swell'd up unto its height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way,
Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back:-
I will resolve for Scotland; there am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company.
SCENE IV.—London.—A_Room in the Boar's
Head Tavern, in Eustcheup.

Enter two DRAWERS.

1 Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-Johns? thou know'st, Sir John cannot endure an apple-John.t

2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true: The prince once set a dish of apple-Johns before him, and told him, there were five more Sir Johns: and, putting off his hat, said, I will now take my leure of these six dry, round, old, wither'd knights. It angered him to the heart; but he hath forgot that.

1 Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down: And see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; mistress Tear-sheet would fain hear some music. Despatch:-The room where

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Enter HOSTESS and DOLL TEAR-SHEET. Host. I'faith, sweet heart, methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality: your puldesire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as sidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would red as any rose: but, i'faith, you have drunk too much canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say,-What's this? How do you now? Dol. Better than I was. Hem!

Host. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold. Look, here comes Sir John.

Enter FALSTAFF, singing.

Fal. When Arthur first in court-Empty the Jordan.And was a worthy king: [Exit DRAWER.] How now, mistress Doll?

Host. Sick of a calm: yea, good sooth. Fal. So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.

Dol. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?

Fal. You make fat rascals, mistress Doll. Dol. I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not.

Fal. If the cook help to make the gluttony you help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue, grant that.

Dol. Ay, marry; our chains, and our jewels.

Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and owches;-for to serve bravely, is to come halting off, you know: To come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chamberst bravely:

Dol. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet, but you fall to some discord: you are both, in good troth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the goodyear! one must bear, and that must be you: [To DOLL.] you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel.

Dol. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. -Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again, or no, there is nobody


Re-enter DRAWER.

Draw. Sir, ancients Pistol's below, and would speak with you.

Dol. Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the foul mouth'dst rogue in England.

[blocks in formation]

Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live amongst my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very best:-Shut the door; there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now:-shut the door, I pray you.

Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess?Host. Pray you, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes no swaggerers here.

Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, never tell me; your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before master Tisick, the deputy, the other day; and, as he said to me,-it was no longer ago than Wednesday last,-Neighbour Quickly, says he ;-master Dumb, our minister, was by then;-Neighbour Quickly, says he; receive those that are civil; for, saith he, you are in an ill name;-now he said so, I can tell whereupon; for, says he, you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore tuke heed what guests you receive: Receive, says he, no swaggering companions.-There comes none here; you would bless you to hear what he said:-no, I'll no swaggerers.

Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, he; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound: he will not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance.-Call him up, drawer. Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: But I do not love swaggering; by my troth, I am the worse, when one says-swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you. Dol. So you do, hostess.

Dol. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be calledcaptain? If captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earned them. You a captain, you slave! for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house?He a captain! Hang him, rogue! He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried cakes. A captain! these villains will make the word captain as odious as the word occupy; which was an excellent good word before it was ill-sorted: therefore captains had need look to it.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Doll. Pist. Not I tell thee what, corporal Bardolph;-I could tear her :-I'll be revenged on her.

Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pist. I'll see her damned first;-to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down faitors!* Have we not Hiren here ?t

Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet; it is very late, i'faith: I beseek you now, aggra vate your choler.

Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack horses,

And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,‡
And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them

King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Host. By my troth, captain, these are very

Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen leaf: I cannot abide swag-bitter words.



Pist. 'Save you, Sir John!

Fal. Welcome, ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.

Pist. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.

Ful. She is pistol proof, Sir; you shall hardly offend her.

Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets: I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.

Dol. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lacklinen mate! Away you mouldy rogue, away! 1 am meat for your master.

Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy.

Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, Sir?-What, with two points on your shoulder? much!

Pist. I will murder your ruff for this.

Fal. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.

Host. No, good captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

A blustering, fighting fellow.
Laces, marks of his commission.
An expression of disdain.

+ Gamester.

Bard. Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anon.

Pist. Die men, like dogs; give crowns like pins; Have we not Hiren here?

Host. O' my word, captain, there's none such here. What the good-year! do you think, I would deny her? for God's sake, be quiet. Pist. Then, feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis:§

Come, give's some sack.

Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me contenta.[fire: Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there. [Laying down his sword. Come we to full points here; and are et cetera's nothing?

Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif:|| What! we have seen the seven stars.

Dol. Thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.

Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not

Galloway nags ?¶

Fal. Quoit** him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling: nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here.

Bard. Come, get you down stairs.

Pist. What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?- [Snatching up his sword. Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful daystt

[blocks in formation]

Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the sisters three! Come, Atropos, I say!

Host. Here's goodly stuff toward!
Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.

Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.

Fal. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing, and driving PISTOL out. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now. -Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. [Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Åh, you whoreson little valiant villain, you.

Host. Are you not hurt i'the groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Re-enter BARDOLPH.

Fal. Have you turned him out of doors? Bard. Yes, Sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, Sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal! to brave me!

Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops: -Ah, rogue! i'faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain!

Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Dol. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, I'll canvas thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Music.

Page. The music is come, Sir.

Fal. Let them play;-Play, Sirs.-Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver.

Dol. I'faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o'days, and foining o'nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter behind, Prince HENRY and POINS, disguised like Drawers.

Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's head: do not bid me remember mine end.

Dol. Sirrah, what humour is the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow: he would have made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread well.

Dol. They say, Poins has a good wit. Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there is no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet.

Dol. Why does the prince love him so then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness: and he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon joint-stools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince


himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

Poins. Let's beat him before his whore. P. Hen. Look, if the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot.

Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many years outlive performance? Fal. Kiss me, Doll.

P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanack to that?

Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables; his note-book, his counsel-keeper.

Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Dol. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

Fal. I am old, I am old.

Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all.

Ful. What stuff wilt have a kirtlet of? I shall receive money on Thursday: thou shalt it grows late, we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me, have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: when I am gone.

Dol. By my troth, thou'lt set me a weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.- -Well, hearken

the end.

Fal. Some sack, Francis.
P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon,


[Advancing. art not thou Poins his brother? Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's?-And

P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead?

Fal. A better than thou; I am a gentleman, thou art a drawer.

P. Hen. Very true, Sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Host. Ó, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London.-Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,-by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.

[Leaning his hand upon DOLL. Dol. How! you fat fool, I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman? Host. 'Blessing o'your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gad's-hill: you knew, I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose, to try my patience.

Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think, thou wast within hearing.

P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you.

Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honour; no abuse.

P. Hen. Not! to dispraise me; and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what?

Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse!

[blocks in formation]
« ForrigeFortsæt »