Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND's castle. That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, Among my household? Why is Rumour here? Hath beaten down young Hotspur, and his troops, Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I This have frumour'd through the peasant towns Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, And not a man of them brings other news, They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true [Exit. wrongs. I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good, as heart can wish: - North. How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; Than they have learn'd of me; from Rumour's ton- A gentleman well bred, and of good name, gues That freely render'd me these news for true. North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom I And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. sent On Tuesday last to listen after news. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with Tra. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back North. Ha!- - Again. Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what; If my young lord your son have not the day, I'll give my barony: never talk of it. Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear, Travers, Give then such instances of loss? Bard. Who, he? He was some hilding fellow, that had stol'n North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? North. How doth my son, and brother? And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd: This thou would'st, say: Your son did thus, and Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas; North. Why, he is dead? See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He, that but fears the thing, he would not know, That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim, A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your ho- thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my nour! heels. I was never manned with an agate till now: but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard said,-grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal. God may finish it, when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him.-What said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak, and slops? Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Mor. 'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, But shadows, and the shows of men, to fight: North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, Get posts, and letters, and make friends with speed! [Exeunt. SCENE II. - London. A street. Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? Page.He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water: but, for the party, that owed it, he might have more diseases, than he knew for. Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to vent any thing, that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause, that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason, than to set me off, why then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance, than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Fal. Let him be damned, like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter !-Awhoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon-security. I had as lief, they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked, he should have sent me two and twenty yards. of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph? Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse. Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendant. Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. Iam sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. Go, pluck him by the elbow! I must speak with him. Atten. Sir John! Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg,than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell, how to make it. Atten. You mistake me, sir! Fal. Why, sir, did I say, you were an honest man? Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat, if I had said so. Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say, I am any other, than an honest man. Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that, which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales. Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty - You would not come when I sent for you. Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy. Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, let me speak with you! Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling. Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is. Fal. It hath its original from much grief, from study, and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his effects in Galen'; it is a kind of deafness. Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you. Fal. Very well, my lord, very well! rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not, if I do become your physician. Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself young? Fye, fye, fye, sir John! Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice,-I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he, that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him! For the box o'the ear that the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, and took it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it, and the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack. Ch. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better companion! Fal. I am as poor, as Job, my lord, but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of punishment to me, in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself. Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, sir John, you live in great infamy. Fal. He, that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less. Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater, and my waist slenderer. Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound; your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads-hill: you may thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'erposting that you Fal. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him. Ch. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and prince Harry. I hear, you are going with lord John of Lancaster, against the archbishop, and the earl of Northumberland. Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you, pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day! for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action, can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever but it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you give me rest. I would to God, my name were not so terrible to the enemy, as it is. I were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. should Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest! And God bless your expedition! Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, to furnish me forth? Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny! you are too ima patient to bear crosses. Fare you well! Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland!" Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad, as to smell a fox. burnt out. [Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant. Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle!—A man can no more separate age and covetousness, than he can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so but both the degrees prevent my curses. - Boy! — did Page Sir? Fal. What money is in my purse? Page. Seven groats and two-pence. Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable. - Go bear this letter to my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the earl of Westmoreland ; and this to old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. About it; you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of this gout! or a gout of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable: a good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. [Exit. SCENE III.-York. Aroom in the Archbishop's And, my mos; noble friends, I pray you all, Ilast. Our present musters grow upon the file Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth thus; Whether our present five and twenty thousand Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point; Bard. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope, Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit, That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, To build at all? Much more, in this great work, else, Consent upon a sure foundation; I Bard. What! is the king but five and twenty thousand? Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bardolph. For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads: one power against the French, In three divided; and his coffers sound Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together, And come against us in full puissance, Hast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither? Hast. The duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland: Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth: But who is substituted 'gainst the French, I have no certain notice. Arch. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. A CT II. Enter Hostess; FANG, and his Boy, with her; and Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang. It is entered. |