Imágenes de páginas

you rich ? let him coin his nose, let him coin his cheeks: I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a yonker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a seal-ring of my grand-father's, 'worth forty mark.

Hoft. O Jesu! I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that the ring was copper.

Fal. How? the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-up; and if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so.


Homun we all march?

Enter Prince Henry marching, and Peto playing on his

Truncheon like a Fife: Falstaff meets them. Fal. OW lad? is the wind in that door?

must we all march? Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion, Hoft. My lord, I pray you, hear me.

P. Henry. What say'lt thou, Mistress Quickly ? how does thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest


Hoft. Good my lord, hear me.
Fal. Pr’ythee, let her alone, and list to me.
P. Henry. What fay'st thou, Jack ?

Fal.- The other night I fell alleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket pickt: this house is turn'd bawdy-house, they pick pockets.

P. Henry. What didst thou lose, Jack?

Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pounds a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.

P. Henry. A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

Hoft. So I told him, my lord; and I said, I heard your grace fay so; and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is, and said, he would cudgel you.

P, Henning

[ocr errors]

: P. Henry. What! che did not ?

Hoft. There's neither faith, truth, nor woman-hood in mg else.

Falo There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd prune; no more truth in thee than in a drawn Fox; and for woman-hood, Maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go.

Hoft. Say, what thing? what thing?
Fal, What thing? why, a thing to thank God on.

Hoft. I am nothing to thank God on, I would thou should't know it : I am an honest man's wife ; and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou arta knave to call me fo.

Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to l'ay otherwise. Hoft. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou? Fal. What beast? why, an Otter. P. Henry. An Otter, Sir John, why an Otter?

Fal. Why? she's neither fish nor fesh; a man knows no where to have her.

Hoft. Thou art an unjust man in saying fo: thou, or any man knows where to have me; thou koave, thou1

P. Henry. Thou say'st true, hoftefs, and he slanders chee moft grosly Host

. So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day, you ow'd him a thousand pound.

P. Henry. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal ? a million; thy love is worth a million: thou ow'st me thy love.

Hoft. Nay, my lord, he call'd you Jack, and said, he would cudgel you.

Fal. Did I, Bardolph Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you faid so. Fal. Yea, if he said, my ring was copper. · P. Henry. I say, 'tis copper. Darlt thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal. Why, Hal, thou know'st, as thou art but a


[ocr errors]

man, I dare; but as thou art a Prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the Lion's whelp.

P. Henry. And why not as the Lion ?

Fal. The King himself is to be fear'd as the Lion; dost thou think, I'll fear thee, as I fear thy father? nay, if I do, let my Girdle break!

P. Henry. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees ! But, Sirrah,' there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bofom of thine; it is all fill'd up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket ! why, thou whoreson, impudent, imboss'd rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, Memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make the long winded; if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, I am a villain ; aud yet you will stand to it, you will not pocket up wrongs. Art thou not asham'd ?

Fal. Doft thou hear, Hal? thou know'ft in the state of innocency, Adam fell: and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villany? thou feest, I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then, you pickt my pocket ?

P. Henry. It appears so by the story.

Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee : go make ready Breakfaft; love thy husband, look to thy servants, and cherill thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest, I am pacify'd still. Nay, I pr'ythee, be gone.

[Exit Hostess. Now, Hal, to the news at Court: for the robbery, lad, -how is That answer'd ?

P. Henry. O my sweet beef, I must ftill be good angel to thee. The money is paid back again.

Fal. O, I do not like that paying back ; 'tis a double labour,

P. Henry, I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.


Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doft, and do it with unwash'd hands too. Bard. Do, my

lord. P. Henry. I have procur'd thee, Jack, a Charge of foot.

Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall I find one, that can steal well? (), for a fine thief, of two and twenty, or thereabout; I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thank'd for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them.

P. Henry. Bardolph,
Bard. My lord ?

P. Henry. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancafter, to my brother John. This to my lord of Weftmorland; go, Peto, to horse; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-Hall at two o'clock in the afternoon, there shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive money and order for their furniture. The Land is burning, Percy stands on high ; And either they, or we, must lower lie. Fal. Rare words! brave world! hostess, my break.

fast, come: Oh, I could wilh, this tavern were my drum!


[ocr errors]



Changes to SHREW SBURY.


Enter Hot-spur, Worcester, and Dowglas.

TELL said, my noble Scot, if speaking truth,

In this fine age, were not thought flattery, Such attribution should the Dowglas have,


As not a soldier of this season's stamp

go fo gen'ral currant through the World.
By heav'n, I cannot flatter: I defy
The tongues of foothers. But a braver place

heart's love hath no man than yourself.
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

Dowg. Thou art the King of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard him.


Enter a Messenger.
Hot. Do, and 'tis well-What letters haft thou

I can but thank

Mes. These come from your

Hôt. Letters from him? why comes he not himself?
Mej. He cannot come, my lord, he's grievous fick.

Hot. Heav'ns! how has he the leisure to be fick
In such a juftling time? who leads his Power;
Under whose government come they along?
Mej. His letters bear his mind, not I. Hot. His

Wor. I pr’ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed ?

Mel. He did, my lord, four days ere I fet forth:
And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his physicians.

Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole,
Ere he by sickness had been visited ;
His health was never better worth than now.

Hot. Sick now? droop now? this sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprize;
'Tis catching hither, even to our Camp.

* Meff. His letters bear his mind, not I his mind,] The Line should be read and divided thus,

Mell. His Letters bear his Mind, not 1. Hot. His Mind!
Hol-fpur had asked who leads his Power? The Messenger answers,

His Letters bear his Mind. The other replies, His Mind!
As much as to say, I enquire not about his Mind, I want to know
where his Powers are. This is natural, and perfe&ly in Chara&er.


[ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »