Henry IV, Part 2
Page 8
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.