It is hard to imagine a world without Shakespeare. Since their composition four hundred years ago, Shakespeare’s plays and poems have traveled the globe, inviting those who see and read his works to make them their own.
Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason, new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theatre.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
Until now, with the release of The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), readers in search of a free online text of Shakespeare’s plays had to be content primarily with using the Moby™ Text, which reproduces a late-nineteenth century version of the plays. What is the difference? Many ordinary readers assume that there is a single text for the plays: what Shakespeare wrote. But Shakespeare’s plays were not published the way modern novels or plays are published today: as a single, authoritative text. In some cases, the plays have come down to us in multiple published versions, represented by various Quartos (Qq) and by the great collection put together by his colleagues in 1623, called the First Folio (F). There are, for example, three very different versions of
Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
Henry V
,
Romeo and Juliet
, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
Other editorial decisions involve choices about whether an unfamiliar word could be understood in light of other writings of the period or whether it should be changed; decisions about words that made it into Shakespeare’s text by accident through four hundred years of printings and misprinting; and even decisions based on cultural preference and taste. When the Moby™ Text was created, for example, it was deemed “improper” and “indecent” for Miranda to chastise Caliban for having attempted to rape her. (See
The Tempest
, 1.2: “Abhorred slave,/Which any print of goodness wilt not take,/Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee…”). All Shakespeare editors at the time took the speech away from her and gave it to her father, Prospero.
The editors of the Moby™ Shakespeare produced their text long before scholars fully understood the proper grounds on which to make the thousands of decisions that Shakespeare editors face. The Folger Library Shakespeare Editions, on which the Folger Shakespeare texts depend, make this editorial process as nearly transparent as is possible, in contrast to older texts, like the Moby™, which hide editorial interventions. The reader of the Folger Shakespeare knows where the text has been altered because editorial interventions are signaled by square brackets (for example, from
Othello
: “
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If she in chains of magic were not bound,
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”), half-square brackets (for example, from
Henry V
: “With
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blood
half-square bracket
and sword and fire to win your right,”), or angle brackets (for example, from
Hamlet
: “O farewell, honest
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soldier.
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Who hath relieved/you?”). At any point in the text, you can hover your cursor over a bracket for more information.
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Henry IV, Part 2
, continues the story of
Henry IV, Part I
. Northumberland learns that his son Hotspur is dead, and he rejoins the remaining rebels. When Hotspur’s widow convinces Northumberland to withdraw, the rebels are then led by the archbishop of York and Lords Mowbray and Hastings, who muster at York to confront the king’s forces.
Sir John Falstaff, meanwhile, glories in the reputation he has gained by falsely claiming to have killed Hotspur, and he uses his wit and cunning to escape charges by the Lord Chief Justice. Prince Hal and his companion Poins disguise themselves to observe Falstaff, and they hear him insult them both. After they confront him, Prince Hal and Falstaff must return to the wars. The king’s army is again victorious, but more through deceit and false promises than through valor.
With the rebellion over, Prince Hal attends his dying father. Hal becomes Henry V, reassures the Lord Chief Justice, and turns away Falstaff, who had expected royal favor.
INDUCTION
Enter
Rumor
,
painted
full
of
tongues
.
Open
your
ears
,
for
which
of
you
will
stop
The
vent
of
hearing
when
loud
Rumor
speaks
?
I
,
from
the
orient
to
the
drooping
west
,
Making
the
wind
my
post-horse
,
still
unfold
The
acts
commencèd
on
this
ball
of
earth
.
Upon
my
tongues
continual
slanders
ride
,
The
which
in
every
language
I
pronounce
,
Stuffing
the
ears
of
men
with
false
reports
.
I
speak
of
peace
while
covert
enmity
Under
the
smile
of
safety
wounds
the
world
.
And
who
but
Rumor
,
who
but
only
I
,
Make
fearful
musters
and
prepared
defense
Whiles
the
big
year
,
swoll’n
with
some
other
grief
,
Is
thought
with
child
by
the
stern
tyrant
war
,
And
no
such
matter
?
Rumor
is
a
pipe
Blown
by
surmises
,
jealousies
,
conjectures
,
And
of
so
easy
and
so
plain
a
stop
That
the
blunt
monster
with
uncounted
heads
,
The
still-discordant
wav’ring
multitude
,
Can
play
upon
it
.
But
what
need
I
thus
My
well-known
body
to
anatomize
Among
my
household
?
Why
is
Rumor
here
?
I
run
before
King
Harry’s
victory
,
INDUCTION
Who
in
a
bloody
field
by
Shrewsbury
Hath
beaten
down
young
Hotspur
and
his
troops
,
Quenching
the
flame
of
bold
rebellion
Even
with
the
rebels’
blood
.
But
what
mean
I
To
speak
so
true
at
first
?
My
office
is
To
noise
abroad
that
Harry
Monmouth
fell
Under
the
wrath
of
noble
Hotspur’s
sword
,
And
that
the
King
before
the
Douglas’
rage
Stooped
his
anointed
head
as
low
as
death
.
This
have
I
rumored
through
the
peasant
towns
Between
that
royal
field
of
Shrewsbury
And
this
worm-eaten
hold
of
ragged
stone
,
Where
Hotspur’s
father
,
old
Northumberland
,
Lies
crafty-sick
.
The
posts
come
tiring
on
,
And
not
a
man
of
them
brings
other
news
Than
they
have
learnt
of
me
.
From
Rumor’s
tongues
They
bring
smooth
comforts
false
,
worse
than
true
wrongs
.
Rumor
exits
.
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
the
Lord
Bardolph
at
one
door
.
Who
keeps
the
gate
here
,
ho
?
Enter
the
Porter
.
Where
is
the
Earl
?
What
shall
I
say
you
are
?
Tell
thou
the
Earl
That
the
Lord
Bardolph
doth
attend
him
here
.
His
Lordship
is
walked
forth
into
the
orchard
.
Please
it
your
Honor
knock
but
at
the
gate
And
he
himself
will
answer
.
Enter
the
Earl
Northumberland
,
his
head
wrapped
in
a
kerchief
and
supporting
himself
with
a
crutch
.
Here
comes
the
Earl
.
Porter
exits
.
What
news
,
Lord
Bardolph
?
Every
minute
now
Should
be
the
father
of
some
stratagem
.
The
times
are
wild
.
Contention
,
like
a
horse
ACT 1. SC. 1
Full
of
high
feeding
,
madly
hath
broke
loose
And
bears
down
all
before
him
.
Noble
earl
,
I
bring
you
certain
news
from
Shrewsbury
.
Good
,
an
God
will
!
As
good
as
heart
can
wish
.
The
King
is
almost
wounded
to
the
death
,
And
,
in
the
fortune
of
my
lord
your
son
,
Prince
Harry
slain
outright
;
and
both
the
Blunts
Killed
by
the
hand
of
Douglas
;
young
Prince
John
And
Westmoreland
and
Stafford
fled
the
field
;
And
Harry
Monmouth’s
brawn
,
the
hulk
Sir
John
,
Is
prisoner
to
your
son
.
O
,
such
a
day
,
So
fought
,
so
followed
,
and
so
fairly
won
,
Came
not
till
now
to
dignify
the
times
Since
Caesar’s
fortunes
.
How
is
this
derived
?
Saw
you
the
field
?
Came
you
from
Shrewsbury
?
I
spake
with
one
,
my
lord
,
that
came
from
thence
,
A
gentleman
well
bred
and
of
good
name
,
That
freely
rendered
me
these
news
for
true
.
Enter
Travers
.
Here
comes
my
servant
Travers
,
who
I
sent
On
Tuesday
last
to
listen
after
news
.
My
lord
,
I
overrode
him
on
the
way
,
And
he
is
furnished
with
no
certainties
More
than
he
haply
may
retail
from
me
.
Now
,
Travers
,
what
good
tidings
comes
with
you
?
My
lord
,
Sir
John
Umfrevile
turned
me
back
ACT 1. SC. 1
With
joyful
tidings
and
,
being
better
horsed
,
Outrode
me
.
After
him
came
spurring
hard
A
gentleman
,
almost
forspent
with
speed
,
That
stopped
by
me
to
breathe
his
bloodied
horse
.
He
asked
the
way
to
Chester
,
and
of
him
I
did
demand
what
news
from
Shrewsbury
.
He
told
me
that
rebellion
had
bad
luck
And
that
young
Harry
Percy’s
spur
was
cold
.
With
that
he
gave
his
able
horse
the
head
And
,
bending
forward
,
struck
his
armèd
heels
Against
the
panting
sides
of
his
poor
jade
Up
to
the
rowel-head
,
and
starting
so
He
seemed
in
running
to
devour
the
way
,
Staying
no
longer
question
.
Ha
?
Again
:
Said
he
young
Harry
Percy’s
spur
was
cold
?
Of
Hotspur
,
Coldspur
?
That
rebellion
Had
met
ill
luck
?
My
lord
,
I’ll
tell
you
what
:
If
my
young
lord
your
son
have
not
the
day
,
Upon
mine
honor
,
for
a
silken
point
I’ll
give
my
barony
.
Never
talk
of
it
.
Why
should
that
gentleman
that
rode
by
Travers
Give
then
such
instances
of
loss
?
Who
,
he
?
He
was
some
hilding
fellow
that
had
stol’n
The
horse
he
rode
on
and
,
upon
my
life
,
Spoke
at
a
venture
.
Enter
Morton
.
Look
,
here
comes
more
news
.
Yea
,
this
man’s
brow
,
like
to
a
title
leaf
,
Foretells
the
nature
of
a
tragic
volume
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
So
looks
the
strand
whereon
the
imperious
flood
Hath
left
a
witnessed
usurpation
.
—
Say
,
Morton
,
didst
thou
come
from
Shrewsbury
?
I
ran
from
Shrewsbury
,
my
noble
lord
,
Where
hateful
death
put
on
his
ugliest
mask
To
fright
our
party
.
How
doth
my
son
and
brother
?
Thou
tremblest
,
and
the
whiteness
in
thy
cheek
Is
apter
than
thy
tongue
to
tell
thy
errand
.
Even
such
a
man
,
so
faint
,
so
spiritless
,
So
dull
,
so
dead
in
look
,
so
woebegone
,
Drew
Priam’s
curtain
in
the
dead
of
night
And
would
have
told
him
half
his
Troy
was
burnt
;
But
Priam
found
the
fire
ere
he
his
tongue
,
And
I
my
Percy’s
death
ere
thou
report’st
it
.
This
thou
wouldst
say
:
Your
son
did
thus
and
thus
;
Your
brother
thus
;
so
fought
the
noble
Douglas
—
Stopping
my
greedy
ear
with
their
bold
deeds
.
But
in
the
end
,
to
stop
my
ear
indeed
,
Thou
hast
a
sigh
to
blow
away
this
praise
,
Ending
with
Brother
,
son
,
and
all
are
dead
.
Douglas
is
living
,
and
your
brother
yet
,
But
for
my
lord
your
son
—
Why
,
he
is
dead
.
See
what
a
ready
tongue
suspicion
hath
!
He
that
but
fears
the
thing
he
would
not
know
Hath
,
by
instinct
,
knowledge
from
others’
eyes
That
what
he
feared
is
chancèd
.
Yet
speak
,
Morton
.
Tell
thou
an
earl
his
divination
lies
,
And
I
will
take
it
as
a
sweet
disgrace
And
make
thee
rich
for
doing
me
such
wrong
.
You
are
too
great
to
be
by
me
gainsaid
,
Your
spirit
is
too
true
,
your
fears
too
certain
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
Yet
,
for
all
this
,
say
not
that
Percy’s
dead
.
I
see
a
strange
confession
in
thine
eye
.
Thou
shak’st
thy
head
and
hold’st
it
fear
or
sin
To
speak
a
truth
.
If
he
be
slain
,
say
so
.
The
tongue
offends
not
that
reports
his
death
;
And
he
doth
sin
that
doth
belie
the
dead
,
Not
he
which
says
the
dead
is
not
alive
.
Yet
the
first
bringer
of
unwelcome
news
Hath
but
a
losing
office
,
and
his
tongue
Sounds
ever
after
as
a
sullen
bell
Remembered
tolling
a
departing
friend
.
I
cannot
think
,
my
lord
,
your
son
is
dead
.
,
to
Northumberland
I
am
sorry
I
should
force
you
to
believe
That
which
I
would
to
God
I
had
not
seen
,
But
these
mine
eyes
saw
him
in
bloody
state
,
Rend’ring
faint
quittance
,
wearied
and
outbreathed
,
To
Harry
Monmouth
,
whose
swift
wrath
beat
down
The
never-daunted
Percy
to
the
earth
,
From
whence
with
life
he
never
more
sprung
up
.
In
few
,
his
death
,
whose
spirit
lent
a
fire
Even
to
the
dullest
peasant
in
his
camp
,
Being
bruited
once
,
took
fire
and
heat
away
From
the
best-tempered
courage
in
his
troops
;
For
from
his
mettle
was
his
party
steeled
,
Which
,
once
in
him
abated
,
all
the
rest
Turned
on
themselves
,
like
dull
and
heavy
lead
.
And
as
the
thing
that’s
heavy
in
itself
Upon
enforcement
flies
with
greatest
speed
,
So
did
our
men
,
heavy
in
Hotspur’s
loss
,
Lend
to
this
weight
such
lightness
with
their
fear
That
arrows
fled
not
swifter
toward
their
aim
Than
did
our
soldiers
,
aiming
at
their
safety
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
Fly
from
the
field
.
Then
was
that
noble
Worcester
So
soon
ta’en
prisoner
;
and
that
furious
Scot
,
The
bloody
Douglas
,
whose
well-laboring
sword
Had
three
times
slain
th’
appearance
of
the
King
,
Gan
vail
his
stomach
and
did
grace
the
shame
Of
those
that
turned
their
backs
and
in
his
flight
,
Stumbling
in
fear
,
was
took
.
The
sum
of
all
Is
that
the
King
hath
won
and
hath
sent
out
A
speedy
power
to
encounter
you
,
my
lord
,
Under
the
conduct
of
young
Lancaster
And
Westmoreland
.
This
is
the
news
at
full
.
For
this
I
shall
have
time
enough
to
mourn
.
In
poison
there
is
physic
,
and
these
news
,
Having
been
well
,
that
would
have
made
me
sick
,
Being
sick
,
have
in
some
measure
made
me
well
.
And
as
the
wretch
whose
fever-weakened
joints
,
Like
strengthless
hinges
,
buckle
under
life
,
Impatient
of
his
fit
,
breaks
like
a
fire
Out
of
his
keeper’s
arms
,
even
so
my
limbs
,
Weakened
with
grief
,
being
now
enraged
with
grief
,
Are
thrice
themselves
.
Hence
therefore
,
thou
nice
crutch
.
He
throws
down
his
crutch
.
A
scaly
gauntlet
now
with
joints
of
steel
Must
glove
this
hand
.
And
hence
,
thou
sickly
coif
.
He
removes
his
kerchief
.
Thou
art
a
guard
too
wanton
for
the
head
Which
princes
,
fleshed
with
conquest
,
aim
to
hit
.
Now
bind
my
brows
with
iron
,
and
approach
The
ragged’st
hour
that
time
and
spite
dare
bring
To
frown
upon
th’
enraged
Northumberland
.
Let
heaven
kiss
Earth
earth
!
Now
let
not
Nature’s
hand
Keep
the
wild
flood
confined
.
Let
order
die
,
And
let
this
world
no
longer
be
a
stage
ACT 1. SC. 1
To
feed
contention
in
a
lingering
act
;
But
let
one
spirit
of
the
firstborn
Cain
Reign
in
all
bosoms
,
that
,
each
heart
being
set
On
bloody
courses
,
the
rude
scene
may
end
,
And
darkness
be
the
burier
of
the
dead
.
This
strainèd
passion
doth
you
wrong
,
my
lord
.
Sweet
earl
,
divorce
not
wisdom
from
your
honor
.
The
lives
of
all
your
loving
complices
Lean
on
your
health
,
the
which
,
if
you
give
o’er
To
stormy
passion
,
must
perforce
decay
.
You
cast
th’
event
of
war
,
my
noble
lord
,
And
summed
the
accompt
of
chance
before
you
said
Let
us
make
head
.
It
was
your
presurmise
That
in
the
dole
of
blows
your
son
might
drop
.
You
knew
he
walked
o’er
perils
on
an
edge
,
More
likely
to
fall
in
than
to
get
o’er
.
You
were
advised
his
flesh
was
capable
Of
wounds
and
scars
,
and
that
his
forward
spirit
Would
lift
him
where
most
trade
of
danger
ranged
.
Yet
did
you
say
Go
forth
,
and
none
of
this
,
Though
strongly
apprehended
,
could
restrain
The
stiff-borne
action
.
What
hath
then
befall’n
,
Or
what
did
this
bold
enterprise
bring
forth
,
More
than
that
being
which
was
like
to
be
?
We
all
that
are
engagèd
to
this
loss
Knew
that
we
ventured
on
such
dangerous
seas
That
if
we
wrought
out
life
,
’twas
ten
to
one
;
And
yet
we
ventured
,
for
the
gain
proposed
Choked
the
respect
of
likely
peril
feared
;
And
since
we
are
o’erset
,
venture
again
.
Come
,
we
will
all
put
forth
,
body
and
goods
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
’Tis
more
than
time
.
—
And
,
my
most
noble
lord
,
I
hear
for
certain
,
and
dare
speak
the
truth
:
The
gentle
Archbishop
of
York
is
up
With
well-appointed
powers
.
He
is
a
man
Who
with
a
double
surety
binds
his
followers
.
My
lord
your
son
had
only
but
the
corpse
,
But
shadows
and
the
shows
of
men
,
to
fight
;
For
that
same
word
rebellion
did
divide
The
action
of
their
bodies
from
their
souls
,
And
they
did
fight
with
queasiness
,
constrained
,
As
men
drink
potions
,
that
their
weapons
only
Seemed
on
our
side
.
But
,
for
their
spirits
and
souls
,
This
word
rebellion
,
it
had
froze
them
up
As
fish
are
in
a
pond
.
But
now
the
Bishop
Turns
insurrection
to
religion
.
Supposed
sincere
and
holy
in
his
thoughts
,
He’s
followed
both
with
body
and
with
mind
,
And
doth
enlarge
his
rising
with
the
blood
Of
fair
King
Richard
,
scraped
from
Pomfret
stones
;
Derives
from
heaven
his
quarrel
and
his
cause
;
Tells
them
he
doth
bestride
a
bleeding
land
,
Gasping
for
life
under
great
Bolingbroke
;
And
more
and
less
do
flock
to
follow
him
.
I
knew
of
this
before
,
but
,
to
speak
truth
,
This
present
grief
had
wiped
it
from
my
mind
.
Go
in
with
me
and
counsel
every
man
The
aptest
way
for
safety
and
revenge
.
Get
posts
and
letters
,
and
make
friends
with
speed
.
Never
so
few
,
and
never
yet
more
need
.
They
exit
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
with
his
Page
bearing
his
sword
and
buckler
.
Sirrah
,
you
giant
,
what
says
the
doctor
to
my
water
?
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
.
Men
of
all
sorts
take
a
pride
to
gird
at
me
.
The
brain
of
this
foolish-compounded
clay
,
man
,
is
not
able
to
invent
anything
that
intends
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
judgment
.
Thou
whoreson
mandrake
,
thou
art
fitter
to
be
worn
in
my
cap
than
to
wait
at
my
heels
.
I
was
never
manned
with
an
agate
till
now
,
but
I
will
inset
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
fledge
—
I
will
sooner
have
a
beard
grow
in
the
palm
of
my
hand
than
he
shall
get
one
off
his
cheek
,
and
yet
he
will
not
stick
to
say
his
face
is
a
face
royal
.
God
may
finish
it
when
He
will
.
’Tis
not
a
hair
amiss
yet
.
He
may
keep
it
still
at
a
face
royal
,
for
a
barber
shall
never
earn
sixpence
out
of
it
,
and
yet
he’ll
be
crowing
as
if
he
had
writ
man
ever
since
his
father
was
a
bachelor
.
He
may
keep
his
own
grace
,
but
he’s
almost
out
of
mine
,
I
can
assure
him
.
What
said
Master
Dommelton
about
the
satin
for
my
short
cloak
and
my
slops
?
ACT 1. SC. 2
He
said
,
sir
,
you
should
procure
him
better
assurance
than
Bardolph
.
He
would
not
take
his
band
and
yours
.
He
liked
not
the
security
.
Let
him
be
damned
like
the
glutton
!
Pray
God
his
tongue
be
hotter
!
A
whoreson
Achitophel
,
a
rascally
yea-forsooth
knave
,
to
bear
a
gentleman
in
hand
and
then
stand
upon
security
!
The
whoreson
smoothy-pates
do
now
wear
nothing
but
high
shoes
and
bunches
of
keys
at
their
girdles
;
and
if
a
man
is
through
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
?
He’s
gone
in
Smithfield
to
buy
your
Worship
a
horse
.
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
Lord
Chief
Justice
and
Servant
.
,
to
Falstaff
Sir
,
here
comes
the
nobleman
that
committed
the
Prince
for
striking
him
about
Bardolph
.
Wait
close
.
I
will
not
see
him
.
They
begin
to
exit
.
,
to
Servant
What’s
he
that
goes
there
?
Falstaff
,
an
’t
please
your
Lordship
.
He
that
was
in
question
for
the
robbery
?
He
,
my
lord
;
but
he
hath
since
done
good
ACT 1. SC. 2
service
at
Shrewsbury
,
and
,
as
I
hear
,
is
now
going
with
some
charge
to
the
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
.
What
,
to
York
?
Call
him
back
again
.
Sir
John
Falstaff
!
Boy
,
tell
him
I
am
deaf
.
You
must
speak
louder
.
My
master
is
deaf
.
I
am
sure
he
is
,
to
the
hearing
of
anything
good
.
—
Go
pluck
him
by
the
elbow
.
I
must
speak
with
him
.
,
plucking
Falstaff’s
sleeve
Sir
John
!
What
,
a
young
knave
and
begging
?
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
.
You
mistake
me
,
sir
.
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
.
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
.
I
give
thee
leave
to
tell
me
so
?
I
lay
aside
that
which
grows
to
me
?
If
thou
gett’st
any
leave
of
me
,
hang
me
;
if
thou
tak’st
leave
,
thou
wert
better
be
hanged
.
You
hunt
counter
.
Hence
!
Avaunt
!
Sir
,
my
lord
would
speak
with
you
.
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
a
word
with
you
.
My
good
lord
.
God
give
your
Lordship
good
time
of
the
day
.
I
am
glad
to
see
your
Lordship
abroad
.
I
heard
say
your
Lordship
was
sick
.
I
hope
your
Lordship
goes
abroad
by
advice
.
Your
Lordship
,
ACT 1. SC. 2
though
not
clean
past
your
youth
,
have
yet
some
smack
of
an
ague
in
you
,
some
relish
of
the
saltness
of
time
in
you
,
and
I
most
humbly
beseech
your
Lordship
to
have
a
reverend
care
of
your
health
.
Sir
John
,
I
sent
for
you
before
your
expedition
to
Shrewsbury
.
An
’t
please
your
Lordship
,
I
hear
his
Majesty
is
returned
with
some
discomfort
from
Wales
.
I
talk
not
of
his
Majesty
.
You
would
not
come
when
I
sent
for
you
.
And
I
hear
,
moreover
,
his
Highness
is
fallen
into
this
same
whoreson
apoplexy
.
Well
,
God
mend
him
.
I
pray
you
let
me
speak
with
you
.
This
apoplexy
,
as
I
take
it
,
is
a
kind
of
lethargy
,
an
’t
please
your
Lordship
,
a
kind
of
sleeping
in
the
blood
,
a
whoreson
tingling
.
What
tell
you
me
of
it
?
Be
it
as
it
is
.
It
hath
it
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
.
I
think
you
are
fallen
into
the
disease
,
for
you
hear
not
what
I
say
to
you
.
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
.
To
punish
you
by
the
heels
would
amend
the
attention
of
your
ears
,
and
I
care
not
if
I
do
become
your
physician
.
I
am
as
poor
as
Job
,
my
lord
,
but
not
so
patient
.
Your
Lordship
may
minister
the
potion
of
imprisonment
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
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
I
sent
for
you
,
when
there
were
matters
against
you
for
your
life
,
to
come
speak
with
me
.
As
I
was
then
advised
by
my
learned
counsel
in
the
laws
of
this
land-service
,
I
did
not
come
.
Well
,
the
truth
is
,
Sir
John
,
you
live
in
great
infamy
.
He
that
buckles
himself
in
my
belt
cannot
live
in
less
.
Your
means
are
very
slender
,
and
your
waste
is
great
.
I
would
it
were
otherwise
.
I
would
my
means
were
greater
and
my
waist
slender
.
You
have
misled
the
youthful
prince
.
The
young
prince
hath
misled
me
.
I
am
the
fellow
with
the
great
belly
,
and
he
my
dog
.
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
Gad’s
Hill
.
You
may
thank
th’
unquiet
time
for
your
quiet
o’erposting
that
action
.
My
lord
.
But
since
all
is
well
,
keep
it
so
.
Wake
not
a
sleeping
wolf
.
To
wake
a
wolf
is
as
bad
as
to
smell
a
fox
.
What
,
you
are
as
a
candle
,
the
better
part
burnt
out
.
A
wassail
candle
,
my
lord
,
all
tallow
.
If
I
did
say
of
wax
,
my
growth
would
approve
the
truth
.
There
is
not
a
white
hair
in
your
face
but
should
have
his
effect
of
gravity
.
His
effect
of
gravy
,
gravy
,
gravy
.
You
follow
the
young
prince
up
and
down
like
his
ill
angel
.
Not
so
,
my
lord
.
Your
ill
angel
is
light
,
but
I
hope
he
that
looks
upon
me
will
take
me
without
weighing
.
And
yet
in
some
respects
I
grant
I
cannot
ACT 1. SC. 2
go
.
I
cannot
tell
.
Virtue
is
of
so
little
regard
in
these
costermongers’
times
that
true
valor
is
turned
bearherd
;
pregnancy
is
made
a
tapster
,
and
hath
his
quick
wit
wasted
in
giving
reckonings
.
All
the
other
gifts
appurtenant
to
man
,
as
the
malice
of
this
age
shapes
them
,
are
not
worth
a
gooseberry
.
You
that
are
old
consider
not
the
capacities
of
us
that
are
young
.
You
do
measure
the
heat
of
our
livers
with
the
bitterness
of
your
galls
,
and
we
that
are
in
the
vaward
of
our
youth
,
I
must
confess
,
are
wags
too
.
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
?
Fie
,
fie
,
fie
,
Sir
John
.
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
halloing
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
of
the
ear
that
the
Prince
gave
you
,
he
gave
it
like
a
rude
prince
,
and
you
took
it
like
a
sensible
lord
.
I
have
checked
him
for
it
,
and
the
young
lion
repents
.
Aside
.
Marry
,
not
in
ashes
and
sackcloth
,
but
in
new
silk
and
old
sack
.
Well
,
God
send
the
Prince
a
better
companion
.
God
send
the
companion
a
better
prince
.
I
cannot
rid
my
hands
of
him
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
.
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
and
I
brandish
anything
but
a
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
should
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
a
rust
than
to
be
scoured
to
nothing
with
perpetual
motion
.
Well
,
be
honest
,
be
honest
,
and
God
bless
your
expedition
.
Will
your
Lordship
lend
me
a
thousand
pound
to
furnish
me
forth
?
Not
a
penny
,
not
a
penny
.
You
are
too
impatient
to
bear
crosses
.
Fare
you
well
.
Commend
me
to
my
cousin
Westmoreland
.
Lord
Chief
Justice
and
his
Servant
exit
.
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
both
the
degrees
prevent
my
curses
.
—
Boy
!
Sir
.
What
money
is
in
my
purse
?
Seven
groats
and
two
pence
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
I
can
get
no
remedy
against
this
consumption
of
the
purse
.
Borrowing
only
lingers
and
lingers
it
out
,
but
the
disease
is
incurable
.
Giving
papers
to
the
Page
.
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
of
my
chin
.
About
it
.
You
know
where
to
find
me
.
Page
exits
.
A
pox
of
this
gout
!
Or
a
gout
of
this
pox
,
for
the
one
or
the
other
plays
the
rogue
with
my
great
toe
.
’Tis
no
matter
if
I
do
halt
.
I
have
the
wars
for
my
color
,
and
my
pension
shall
seem
the
more
reasonable
.
A
good
wit
will
make
use
of
anything
.
I
will
turn
diseases
to
commodity
.
He
exits
.
Scene
3
Enter
th’
Archbishop
of
York
,
Thomas
Mowbray
(
Earl
Marshal
)
,
the
Lord
Hastings
,
and
Lord
Bardolph
.
Thus
have
you
heard
our
cause
and
known
our
means
,
And
,
my
most
noble
friends
,
I
pray
you
all
Speak
plainly
your
opinions
of
our
hopes
.
And
first
,
Lord
Marshal
,
what
say
you
to
it
?
I
well
allow
the
occasion
of
our
arms
,
But
gladly
would
be
better
satisfied
How
in
our
means
we
should
advance
ourselves
To
look
with
forehead
bold
and
big
enough
Upon
the
power
and
puissance
of
the
King
.
Our
present
musters
grow
upon
the
file
ACT 1. SC. 3
To
five-and-twenty
thousand
men
of
choice
,
And
our
supplies
live
largely
in
the
hope
Of
great
Northumberland
,
whose
bosom
burns
With
an
incensèd
fire
of
injuries
.
The
question
,
then
,
Lord
Hastings
,
standeth
thus
:
Whether
our
present
five-and-twenty
thousand
May
hold
up
head
without
Northumberland
.
With
him
we
may
.
Yea
,
marry
,
there’s
the
point
.
But
if
without
him
we
be
thought
too
feeble
,
My
judgment
is
we
should
not
step
too
far
Till
we
had
his
assistance
by
the
hand
.
For
in
a
theme
so
bloody-faced
as
this
,
Conjecture
,
expectation
,
and
surmise
Of
aids
incertain
should
not
be
admitted
.
’Tis
very
true
,
Lord
Bardolph
,
for
indeed
It
was
young
Hotspur’s
cause
at
Shrewsbury
.
It
was
,
my
lord
;
who
lined
himself
with
hope
,
Eating
the
air
and
promise
of
supply
,
Flatt’ring
himself
in
project
of
a
power
Much
smaller
than
the
smallest
of
his
thoughts
,
And
so
,
with
great
imagination
Proper
to
madmen
,
led
his
powers
to
death
And
,
winking
,
leapt
into
destruction
.
But
,
by
your
leave
,
it
never
yet
did
hurt
To
lay
down
likelihoods
and
forms
of
hope
.
Yes
,
if
this
present
quality
of
war
—
Indeed
the
instant
action
,
a
cause
on
foot
—
Lives
so
in
hope
,
as
in
an
early
spring
We
see
th’
appearing
buds
,
which
to
prove
fruit
ACT 1. SC. 3
Hope
gives
not
so
much
warrant
as
despair
That
frosts
will
bite
them
.
When
we
mean
to
build
,
We
first
survey
the
plot
,
then
draw
the
model
,
And
when
we
see
the
figure
of
the
house
,
Then
must
we
rate
the
cost
of
the
erection
,
Which
if
we
find
outweighs
ability
,
What
do
we
then
but
draw
anew
the
model
In
fewer
offices
,
or
at
least
desist
To
build
at
all
?
Much
more
in
this
great
work
,
Which
is
almost
to
pluck
a
kingdom
down
And
set
another
up
,
should
we
survey
The
plot
of
situation
and
the
model
,
Consent
upon
a
sure
foundation
,
Question
surveyors
,
know
our
own
estate
,
How
able
such
a
work
to
undergo
,
To
weigh
against
his
opposite
.
Or
else
We
fortify
in
paper
and
in
figures
,
Using
the
names
of
men
instead
of
men
,
Like
one
that
draws
the
model
of
an
house
Beyond
his
power
to
build
it
,
who
,
half
through
,
Gives
o’er
and
leaves
his
part-created
cost
A
naked
subject
to
the
weeping
clouds
And
waste
for
churlish
winter’s
tyranny
.
Grant
that
our
hopes
,
yet
likely
of
fair
birth
,
Should
be
stillborn
and
that
we
now
possessed
The
utmost
man
of
expectation
,
I
think
we
are
a
body
strong
enough
,
Even
as
we
are
,
to
equal
with
the
King
.
What
,
is
the
King
but
five-and-twenty
thousand
?
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
,
And
one
against
Glendower
;
perforce
a
third
ACT 1. SC. 3
Must
take
up
us
.
So
is
the
unfirm
king
In
three
divided
,
and
his
coffers
sound
With
hollow
poverty
and
emptiness
.
That
he
should
draw
his
several
strengths
together
And
come
against
us
in
full
puissance
Need
not
to
be
dreaded
.
If
he
should
do
so
,
He
leaves
his
back
unarmed
,
the
French
and
Welsh
Baying
him
at
the
heels
.
Never
fear
that
.
Who
is
it
like
should
lead
his
forces
hither
?
The
Duke
of
Lancaster
and
Westmoreland
;
Against
the
Welsh
,
himself
and
Harry
Monmouth
;
But
who
is
substituted
against
the
French
I
have
no
certain
notice
.
Let
us
on
,
And
publish
the
occasion
of
our
arms
.
The
commonwealth
is
sick
of
their
own
choice
.
Their
over-greedy
love
hath
surfeited
.
An
habitation
giddy
and
unsure
Hath
he
that
buildeth
on
the
vulgar
heart
.
O
thou
fond
many
,
with
what
loud
applause
Didst
thou
beat
heaven
with
blessing
Bolingbroke
Before
he
was
what
thou
wouldst
have
him
be
.
And
being
now
trimmed
in
thine
own
desires
,
Thou
,
beastly
feeder
,
art
so
full
of
him
That
thou
provok’st
thyself
to
cast
him
up
.
So
,
so
,
thou
common
dog
,
didst
thou
disgorge
Thy
glutton
bosom
of
the
royal
Richard
,
And
now
thou
wouldst
eat
thy
dead
vomit
up
And
howl’st
to
find
it
.
What
trust
is
in
these
times
?
They
that
,
when
Richard
lived
,
would
have
him
die
Are
now
become
enamored
on
his
grave
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Thou
,
that
threw’st
dust
upon
his
goodly
head
When
through
proud
London
he
came
sighing
on
After
th’
admirèd
heels
of
Bolingbroke
,
Criest
now
O
earth
,
yield
us
that
king
again
,
And
take
thou
this
!
O
thoughts
of
men
accursed
!
Past
and
to
come
seems
best
;
things
present
,
worst
.
Shall
we
go
draw
our
numbers
and
set
on
?
We
are
time’s
subjects
,
and
time
bids
begone
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
Hostess
Quickly
of
the
tavern
with
two
Officers
,
Fang
and
Snare
,
who
lags
behind
.
Master
Fang
,
have
you
entered
the
action
?
It
is
entered
.
Where’s
your
yeoman
?
Is
’t
a
lusty
yeoman
?
Will
he
stand
to
’t
?
,
calling
Sirrah
!
Where’s
Snare
?
O
Lord
,
ay
,
good
Master
Snare
.
,
catching
up
to
them
Here
,
here
.
Snare
,
we
must
arrest
Sir
John
Falstaff
.
Yea
,
good
Master
Snare
,
I
have
entered
him
and
all
.
It
may
chance
cost
some
of
us
our
lives
,
for
he
will
stab
.
Alas
the
day
,
take
heed
of
him
.
He
stabbed
me
in
mine
own
house
,
and
that
most
beastly
,
in
good
faith
.
He
cares
not
what
mischief
he
does
.
If
his
weapon
be
out
,
he
will
foin
like
any
devil
.
He
will
spare
neither
man
,
woman
,
nor
child
.
If
I
can
close
with
him
,
I
care
not
for
his
thrust
.
No
,
nor
I
neither
.
I’ll
be
at
your
elbow
.
An
I
but
fist
him
once
,
an
he
come
but
within
my
view
—
I
am
undone
by
his
going
.
I
warrant
you
,
he’s
ACT 2. SC. 1
an
infinitive
thing
upon
my
score
.
Good
Master
Fang
,
hold
him
sure
.
Good
Master
Snare
,
let
him
not
’scape
.
He
comes
continuantly
to
Pie
Corner
,
saving
your
manhoods
,
to
buy
a
saddle
,
and
he
is
indited
to
dinner
to
the
Lubber’s
Head
in
Lumbert
Street
,
to
Master
Smooth’s
the
silkman
.
I
pray
you
,
since
my
exion
is
entered
,
and
my
case
so
openly
known
to
the
world
,
let
him
be
brought
in
to
his
answer
.
A
hundred
mark
is
a
long
one
for
a
poor
lone
woman
to
bear
,
and
I
have
borne
,
and
borne
,
and
borne
,
and
have
been
fubbed
off
,
and
fubbed
off
,
and
fubbed
off
from
this
day
to
that
day
,
that
it
is
a
shame
to
be
thought
on
.
There
is
no
honesty
in
such
dealing
,
unless
a
woman
should
be
made
an
ass
and
a
beast
to
bear
every
knave’s
wrong
.
Yonder
he
comes
,
and
that
arrant
malmsey-nose
knave
,
Bardolph
,
with
him
.
Do
your
offices
,
do
your
offices
,
Master
Fang
and
Master
Snare
,
do
me
,
do
me
,
do
me
your
offices
.
Enter
Sir
John
Falstaff
and
Bardolph
,
and
the
Page
.
How
now
,
whose
mare’s
dead
?
What’s
the
matter
?
Sir
John
,
I
arrest
you
at
the
suit
of
Mistress
Quickly
.
Away
,
varlets
!
—
Draw
,
Bardolph
.
Cut
me
off
the
villain’s
head
.
Throw
the
quean
in
the
channel
.
They
draw
.
Throw
me
in
the
channel
?
I’ll
throw
thee
in
the
channel
.
Wilt
thou
,
wilt
thou
,
thou
bastardly
rogue
?
—
Murder
,
murder
!
—
Ah
,
thou
honeysuckle
villain
,
wilt
thou
kill
God’s
officers
and
the
King’s
?
Ah
,
thou
honeyseed
rogue
,
thou
art
a
honeyseed
,
a
man-queller
,
and
a
woman-queller
.
Keep
them
off
,
Bardolph
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
A
rescue
,
a
rescue
!
Good
people
,
bring
a
rescue
or
two
.
—
Thou
wot
,
wot
thou
?
Thou
wot
,
wot
ta
?
Do
,
do
,
thou
rogue
.
Do
,
thou
hempseed
.
Away
,
you
scullion
,
you
rampallian
,
you
fustilarian
!
I’ll
tickle
your
catastrophe
.
Enter
Lord
Chief
Justice
and
his
Men
.
What
is
the
matter
?
Keep
the
peace
here
,
ho
!
Good
my
lord
,
be
good
to
me
.
I
beseech
you
stand
to
me
.
How
now
,
Sir
John
?
What
,
are
you
brawling
here
?
Doth
this
become
your
place
,
your
time
,
and
business
?
You
should
have
been
well
on
your
way
to
York
.
—
Stand
from
him
,
fellow
.
Wherefore
hang’st
thou
upon
him
?
O
my
most
worshipful
lord
,
an
’t
please
your
Grace
,
I
am
a
poor
widow
of
Eastcheap
,
and
he
is
arrested
at
my
suit
.
For
what
sum
?
It
is
more
than
for
some
,
my
lord
;
it
is
for
all
I
have
.
He
hath
eaten
me
out
of
house
and
home
.
He
hath
put
all
my
substance
into
that
fat
belly
of
his
.
To
Falstaff
.
But
I
will
have
some
of
it
out
again
,
or
I
will
ride
thee
o’
nights
like
the
mare
.
I
think
I
am
as
like
to
ride
the
mare
if
I
have
any
vantage
of
ground
to
get
up
.
How
comes
this
,
Sir
John
?
Fie
,
what
man
of
good
temper
would
endure
this
tempest
of
exclamation
?
Are
you
not
ashamed
to
enforce
a
poor
widow
to
so
rough
a
course
to
come
by
her
own
?
ACT 2. SC. 1
What
is
the
gross
sum
that
I
owe
thee
?
Marry
,
if
thou
wert
an
honest
man
,
thyself
and
the
money
too
.
Thou
didst
swear
to
me
upon
a
parcel-gilt
goblet
,
sitting
in
my
Dolphin
chamber
at
the
round
table
by
a
sea-coal
fire
,
upon
Wednesday
in
Wheeson
week
,
when
the
Prince
broke
thy
head
for
liking
his
father
to
a
singing-man
of
Windsor
,
thou
didst
swear
to
me
then
,
as
I
was
washing
thy
wound
,
to
marry
me
and
make
me
my
lady
thy
wife
.
Canst
thou
deny
it
?
Did
not
Goodwife
Keech
,
the
butcher’s
wife
,
come
in
then
and
call
me
Gossip
Quickly
,
coming
in
to
borrow
a
mess
of
vinegar
,
telling
us
she
had
a
good
dish
of
prawns
,
whereby
thou
didst
desire
to
eat
some
,
whereby
I
told
thee
they
were
ill
for
a
green
wound
?
And
didst
thou
not
,
when
she
was
gone
downstairs
,
desire
me
to
be
no
more
so
familiarity
with
such
poor
people
,
saying
that
ere
long
they
should
call
me
madam
?
And
didst
thou
not
kiss
me
and
bid
me
fetch
thee
thirty
shillings
?
I
put
thee
now
to
thy
book-oath
.
Deny
it
if
thou
canst
.
My
lord
,
this
is
a
poor
mad
soul
,
and
she
says
up
and
down
the
town
that
her
eldest
son
is
like
you
.
She
hath
been
in
good
case
,
and
the
truth
is
,
poverty
hath
distracted
her
.
But
,
for
these
foolish
officers
,
I
beseech
you
I
may
have
redress
against
them
.
Sir
John
,
Sir
John
,
I
am
well
acquainted
with
your
manner
of
wrenching
the
true
cause
the
false
way
.
It
is
not
a
confident
brow
,
nor
the
throng
of
words
that
come
with
such
more
than
impudent
sauciness
from
you
,
can
thrust
me
from
a
level
consideration
.
You
have
,
as
it
appears
to
me
,
practiced
upon
the
easy-yielding
spirit
of
this
woman
,
and
made
her
serve
your
uses
both
in
purse
and
in
person
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Yea
,
in
truth
,
my
lord
.
Pray
thee
,
peace
.
—
Pay
her
the
debt
you
owe
her
,
and
unpay
the
villainy
you
have
done
with
her
.
The
one
you
may
do
with
sterling
money
,
and
the
other
with
current
repentance
.
My
lord
,
I
will
not
undergo
this
sneap
without
reply
.
You
call
honorable
boldness
impudent
sauciness
.
If
a
man
will
make
curtsy
and
say
nothing
,
he
is
virtuous
.
No
,
my
lord
,
my
humble
duty
remembered
,
I
will
not
be
your
suitor
.
I
say
to
you
,
I
do
desire
deliverance
from
these
officers
,
being
upon
hasty
employment
in
the
King’s
affairs
.
You
speak
as
having
power
to
do
wrong
;
but
answer
in
th’
effect
of
your
reputation
,
and
satisfy
the
poor
woman
.
Come
hither
,
hostess
.
He
speaks
aside
to
the
Hostess
.
Enter
a
Messenger
,
Master
Gower
.
Now
,
Master
Gower
,
what
news
?
The
King
,
my
lord
,
and
Harry
Prince
of
Wales
Are
near
at
hand
.
The
rest
the
paper
tells
.
He
gives
the
Chief
Justice
a
paper
to
read
.
,
to
the
Hostess
As
I
am
a
gentleman
!
Faith
,
you
said
so
before
.
As
I
am
a
gentleman
.
Come
.
No
more
words
of
it
.
By
this
heavenly
ground
I
tread
on
,
I
must
be
fain
to
pawn
both
my
plate
and
the
tapestry
of
my
dining
chambers
.
Glasses
,
glasses
,
is
the
only
drinking
.
And
for
thy
walls
,
a
pretty
slight
drollery
,
or
the
story
of
the
Prodigal
or
the
German
hunting
in
waterwork
is
worth
a
thousand
of
these
bed-hangers
and
these
ACT 2. SC. 1
fly-bitten
tapestries
.
Let
it
be
ten
pound
,
if
thou
canst
.
Come
,
an
’twere
not
for
thy
humors
,
there’s
not
a
better
wench
in
England
.
Go
wash
thy
face
,
and
draw
the
action
.
Come
,
thou
must
not
be
in
this
humor
with
me
.
Dost
not
know
me
?
Come
,
come
.
I
know
thou
wast
set
on
to
this
.
Pray
thee
,
Sir
John
,
let
it
be
but
twenty
nobles
.
I’
faith
,
I
am
loath
to
pawn
my
plate
,
so
God
save
me
,
la
.
Let
it
alone
.
I’ll
make
other
shift
.
You’ll
be
a
fool
still
.
Well
,
you
shall
have
it
,
though
I
pawn
my
gown
.
I
hope
you’ll
come
to
supper
.
You’ll
pay
me
all
together
?
Will
I
live
?
Aside
to
Bardolph
.
Go
with
her
,
with
her
.
Hook
on
,
hook
on
.
Will
you
have
Doll
Tearsheet
meet
you
at
supper
?
No
more
words
.
Let’s
have
her
.
Hostess
,
Fang
,
Snare
,
Bardolph
,
Page
,
and
others
exit
.
,
to
Gower
I
have
heard
better
news
.
,
to
Chief
Justice
What’s
the
news
,
my
good
lord
?
,
to
Gower
Where
lay
the
King
tonight
?
At
Basingstoke
,
my
lord
.
,
to
Chief
Justice
I
hope
,
my
lord
,
all’s
well
.
What
is
the
news
,
my
lord
?
,
to
Gower
Come
all
his
forces
back
?
No
.
Fifteen
hundred
foot
,
five
hundred
horse
Are
marched
up
to
my
Lord
of
Lancaster
Against
Northumberland
and
the
Archbishop
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
,
to
Chief
Justice
Comes
the
King
back
from
Wales
,
my
noble
lord
?
,
to
Gower
You
shall
have
letters
of
me
presently
.
Come
.
Go
along
with
me
,
good
Master
Gower
.
My
lord
!
What’s
the
matter
?
Master
Gower
,
shall
I
entreat
you
with
me
to
dinner
?
I
must
wait
upon
my
good
lord
here
.
I
thank
you
,
good
Sir
John
.
Sir
John
,
you
loiter
here
too
long
,
being
you
are
to
take
soldiers
up
in
counties
as
you
go
.
Will
you
sup
with
me
,
Master
Gower
?
What
foolish
master
taught
you
these
manners
,
Sir
John
?
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
.
Now
the
Lord
lighten
thee
.
Thou
art
a
great
fool
.
They
separate
and
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
the
Prince
and
Poins
.
Before
God
,
I
am
exceeding
weary
.
Is
’t
come
to
that
?
I
had
thought
weariness
durst
not
have
attached
one
of
so
high
blood
.
Faith
,
it
does
me
,
though
it
discolors
the
complexion
of
my
greatness
to
acknowledge
it
.
Doth
it
not
show
vilely
in
me
to
desire
small
beer
?
Why
,
a
prince
should
not
be
so
loosely
studied
as
to
remember
so
weak
a
composition
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Belike
then
my
appetite
was
not
princely
got
,
for
,
by
my
troth
,
I
do
now
remember
the
poor
creature
small
beer
.
But
indeed
these
humble
considerations
make
me
out
of
love
with
my
greatness
.
What
a
disgrace
is
it
to
me
to
remember
thy
name
,
or
to
know
thy
face
tomorrow
,
or
to
take
note
how
many
pair
of
silk
stockings
thou
hast
—
with
these
,
and
those
that
were
thy
peach-colored
ones
—
or
to
bear
the
inventory
of
thy
shirts
,
as
,
one
for
superfluity
and
another
for
use
.
But
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
the
low
countries
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
.
How
ill
it
follows
,
after
you
have
labored
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
?
Shall
I
tell
thee
one
thing
,
Poins
?
Yes
,
faith
,
and
let
it
be
an
excellent
good
thing
.
It
shall
serve
among
wits
of
no
higher
breeding
than
thine
.
Go
to
.
I
stand
the
push
of
your
one
thing
that
you
will
tell
.
Marry
,
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
.
Very
hardly
,
upon
such
a
subject
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
By
this
hand
,
thou
thinkest
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
.
The
reason
?
What
wouldst
thou
think
of
me
if
I
should
weep
?
I
would
think
thee
a
most
princely
hypocrite
.
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
roadway
better
than
thine
.
Every
man
would
think
me
an
hypocrite
indeed
.
And
what
accites
your
most
worshipful
thought
to
think
so
?
Why
,
because
you
have
been
so
lewd
and
so
much
engraffed
to
Falstaff
.
And
to
thee
.
By
this
light
,
I
am
well
spoke
on
.
I
can
hear
it
with
mine
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
.
Enter
Bardolph
and
Page
.
And
the
boy
that
I
gave
Falstaff
.
He
had
him
from
me
Christian
,
and
look
if
the
fat
villain
have
not
transformed
him
ape
.
God
save
your
Grace
.
And
yours
,
most
noble
Bardolph
.
,
to
Bardolph
Come
,
you
virtuous
ass
,
you
bashful
fool
,
must
you
be
blushing
?
Wherefore
blush
you
now
?
What
a
maidenly
man-at-arms
are
you
ACT 2. SC. 2
become
!
Is
’t
such
a
matter
to
get
a
pottle-pot’s
maidenhead
?
He
calls
me
e’en
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
so
peeped
through
.
Has
not
the
boy
profited
?
,
to
Page
Away
,
you
whoreson
upright
rabbit
,
away
!
Away
,
you
rascally
Althea’s
dream
,
away
!
Instruct
us
,
boy
.
What
dream
,
boy
?
Marry
,
my
lord
,
Althea
dreamt
she
was
delivered
of
a
firebrand
,
and
therefore
I
call
him
her
dream
.
A
crown’s
worth
of
good
interpretation
.
There
’tis
,
boy
.
He
gives
the
Page
money
.
O
,
that
this
good
blossom
could
be
kept
from
cankers
!
Well
,
there
is
sixpence
to
preserve
thee
.
He
gives
the
Page
money
.
An
you
do
not
make
him
be
hanged
among
you
,
the
gallows
shall
have
wrong
.
And
how
doth
thy
master
,
Bardolph
?
Well
,
my
good
lord
.
He
heard
of
your
Grace’s
coming
to
town
.
There’s
a
letter
for
you
.
He
gives
the
Prince
a
paper
.
Delivered
with
good
respect
.
And
how
doth
the
Martlemas
your
master
?
In
bodily
health
,
sir
.
Marry
,
the
immortal
part
needs
a
physician
,
but
that
moves
not
him
.
Though
that
be
sick
,
it
dies
not
.
I
do
allow
this
wen
to
be
as
familiar
with
me
as
my
dog
,
and
he
holds
his
place
,
for
look
you
how
he
writes
.
He
shows
the
letter
to
Poins
.
reads
the
superscription
John
Falstaff
,
knight
.
Every
man
must
know
that
as
oft
as
he
has
occasion
ACT 2. SC. 2
to
name
himself
,
even
like
those
that
are
kin
to
the
King
,
for
they
never
prick
their
finger
but
they
say
There’s
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
poor
cousin
,
sir
.
Nay
,
they
will
be
kin
to
us
,
or
they
will
fetch
it
from
Japheth
.
But
to
the
letter
:
Reads
.
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
knight
,
to
the
son
of
the
King
nearest
his
father
,
Harry
Prince
of
Wales
,
greeting
.
Why
,
this
is
a
certificate
.
Peace
!
Reads
.
I
will
imitate
the
honorable
Romans
in
brevity
.
He
sure
means
brevity
in
breath
,
short-winded
.
reads
I
commend
me
to
thee
,
I
commend
thee
,
and
I
leave
thee
.
Be
not
too
familiar
with
Poins
,
for
he
misuses
thy
favors
so
much
that
he
swears
thou
art
to
marry
his
sister
Nell
.
Repent
at
idle
times
as
thou
mayst
,
and
so
farewell
.
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’ll
steep
this
letter
in
sack
and
make
him
eat
it
.
That’s
to
make
him
eat
twenty
of
his
words
.
But
do
you
use
me
thus
,
Ned
?
Must
I
marry
your
sister
?
God
send
the
wench
no
worse
fortune
!
But
I
never
said
so
.
Well
,
thus
we
play
the
fools
with
the
time
,
and
the
spirits
of
the
wise
sit
in
the
clouds
and
mock
us
.
To
Bardolph
.
Is
your
master
here
in
London
?
Yea
,
my
lord
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Where
sups
he
?
Doth
the
old
boar
feed
in
the
old
frank
?
At
the
old
place
,
my
lord
,
in
Eastcheap
.
What
company
?
Ephesians
,
my
lord
,
of
the
old
church
.
Sup
any
women
with
him
?
None
,
my
lord
,
but
old
Mistress
Quickly
and
Mistress
Doll
Tearsheet
.
What
pagan
may
that
be
?
A
proper
gentlewoman
,
sir
,
and
a
kinswoman
of
my
master’s
.
Even
such
kin
as
the
parish
heifers
are
to
the
town
bull
.
—
Shall
we
steal
upon
them
,
Ned
,
at
supper
?
I
am
your
shadow
,
my
lord
.
I’ll
follow
you
.
Sirrah
—
you
,
boy
—
and
Bardolph
,
no
word
to
your
master
that
I
am
yet
come
to
town
.
There’s
for
your
silence
.
He
gives
money
.
I
have
no
tongue
,
sir
.
And
for
mine
,
sir
,
I
will
govern
it
.
Fare
you
well
.
Go
.
Bardolph
and
Page
exit
.
This
Doll
Tearsheet
should
be
some
road
.
I
warrant
you
,
as
common
as
the
way
between
Saint
Albans
and
London
.
How
might
we
see
Falstaff
bestow
himself
tonight
in
his
true
colors
,
and
not
ourselves
be
seen
?
Put
on
two
leathern
jerkins
and
aprons
,
and
wait
upon
him
at
his
table
as
drawers
.
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
everything
the
purpose
must
weigh
with
the
folly
.
Follow
me
,
Ned
.
They
exit
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
Scene
3
Enter
Northumberland
,
his
wife
,
and
the
wife
to
Harry
Percy
.
I
pray
thee
,
loving
wife
and
gentle
daughter
,
Give
even
way
unto
my
rough
affairs
.
Put
not
you
on
the
visage
of
the
times
And
be
,
like
them
,
to
Percy
troublesome
.
I
have
given
over
.
I
will
speak
no
more
.
Do
what
you
will
;
your
wisdom
be
your
guide
.
Alas
,
sweet
wife
,
my
honor
is
at
pawn
,
And
,
but
my
going
,
nothing
can
redeem
it
.
O
yet
,
for
God’s
sake
,
go
not
to
these
wars
.
The
time
was
,
father
,
that
you
broke
your
word
When
you
were
more
endeared
to
it
than
now
,
When
your
own
Percy
,
when
my
heart’s
dear
Harry
,
Threw
many
a
northward
look
to
see
his
father
Bring
up
his
powers
;
but
he
did
long
in
vain
.
Who
then
persuaded
you
to
stay
at
home
?
There
were
two
honors
lost
,
yours
and
your
son’s
.
For
yours
,
the
God
of
heaven
brighten
it
.
For
his
,
it
stuck
upon
him
as
the
sun
In
the
gray
vault
of
heaven
,
and
by
his
light
Did
all
the
chivalry
of
England
move
To
do
brave
acts
.
He
was
indeed
the
glass
Wherein
the
noble
youth
did
dress
themselves
.
He
had
no
legs
that
practiced
not
his
gait
;
And
speaking
thick
,
which
nature
made
his
blemish
,
Became
the
accents
of
the
valiant
;
For
those
that
could
speak
low
and
tardily
Would
turn
their
own
perfection
to
abuse
ACT 2. SC. 3
To
seem
like
him
.
So
that
in
speech
,
in
gait
,
In
diet
,
in
affections
of
delight
,
In
military
rules
,
humors
of
blood
,
He
was
the
mark
and
glass
,
copy
and
book
,
That
fashioned
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
honor
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
numbers
,
Today
might
I
,
hanging
on
Hotspur’s
neck
,
Have
talked
of
Monmouth’s
grave
.
Beshrew
your
heart
,
Fair
daughter
,
you
do
draw
my
spirits
from
me
With
new
lamenting
ancient
oversights
.
But
I
must
go
and
meet
with
danger
there
,
Or
it
will
seek
me
in
another
place
And
find
me
worse
provided
.
O
,
fly
to
Scotland
Till
that
the
nobles
and
the
armèd
commons
Have
of
their
puissance
made
a
little
taste
.
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
loves
,
First
let
them
try
themselves
.
So
did
your
son
;
He
was
so
suffered
.
So
came
I
a
widow
,
And
never
shall
have
length
of
life
enough
ACT 2. SC. 4
To
rain
upon
remembrance
with
mine
eyes
That
it
may
grow
and
sprout
as
high
as
heaven
For
recordation
to
my
noble
husband
.
Come
,
come
,
go
in
with
me
.
’Tis
with
my
mind
As
with
the
tide
swelled
up
unto
his
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
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Enter
Francis
and
another
Drawer
.
What
the
devil
hast
thou
brought
there
—
applejohns
?
Thou
knowest
Sir
John
cannot
endure
an
applejohn
.
Mass
,
thou
sayst
true
.
The
Prince
once
set
a
dish
of
applejohns
before
him
and
told
him
there
were
five
more
Sir
Johns
and
,
putting
off
his
hat
,
said
I
will
now
take
my
leave
of
these
six
dry
,
round
,
old
,
withered
knights
.
It
angered
him
to
the
heart
.
But
he
hath
forgot
that
.
Why
then
,
cover
and
set
them
down
,
and
see
if
thou
canst
find
out
Sneak’s
noise
.
Mistress
Tearsheet
would
fain
hear
some
music
.
Dispatch
.
The
room
where
they
supped
is
too
hot
.
They’ll
come
in
straight
.
Enter
Will
.
Sirrah
,
here
will
be
the
Prince
and
Master
Poins
anon
,
and
they
will
put
on
two
of
our
jerkins
ACT 2. SC. 4
and
aprons
,
and
Sir
John
must
not
know
of
it
.
Bardolph
hath
brought
word
.
By
the
Mass
,
here
will
be
old
utis
.
It
will
be
an
excellent
stratagem
.
I’ll
see
if
I
can
find
out
Sneak
.
He
exits
with
the
Second
Drawer
.
Enter
Hostess
and
Doll
Tearsheet
.
I’
faith
,
sweetheart
,
methinks
now
you
are
in
an
excellent
good
temperality
.
Your
pulsidge
beats
as
extraordinarily
as
heart
would
desire
,
and
your
color
,
I
warrant
you
,
is
as
red
as
any
rose
,
in
good
truth
,
la
.
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
?
Better
than
I
was
.
Hem
.
Why
,
that’s
well
said
.
A
good
heart’s
worth
gold
.
Lo
,
here
comes
Sir
John
.
Enter
Sir
John
Falstaff
.
,
singing
When
Arthur
first
in
court
—
To
Will
.
Empty
the
jordan
.
Will
exits
.
And
was
a
worthy
king
—
How
now
,
Mistress
Doll
?
Sick
of
a
calm
,
yea
,
good
faith
.
So
is
all
her
sect
.
An
they
be
once
in
a
calm
,
they
are
sick
.
A
pox
damn
you
,
you
muddy
rascal
.
Is
that
all
the
comfort
you
give
me
?
You
make
fat
rascals
,
Mistress
Doll
.
I
make
them
?
Gluttony
and
diseases
make
them
;
I
make
them
not
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
Yea
,
joy
,
our
chains
and
our
jewels
.
Your
brooches
,
pearls
,
and
ouches
—
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
chambers
bravely
—
Hang
yourself
,
you
muddy
conger
,
hang
yourself
!
By
my
troth
,
this
is
the
old
fashion
.
You
two
never
meet
but
you
fall
to
some
discord
.
You
are
both
,
i’
good
truth
,
as
rheumatic
as
two
dry
toasts
.
You
cannot
one
bear
with
another’s
confirmities
.
What
the
good-year
!
One
must
bear
,
and
to
Doll
that
must
be
you
.
You
are
the
weaker
vessel
,
as
they
say
,
the
emptier
vessel
.
Can
a
weak
empty
vessel
bear
such
a
huge
full
hogshead
?
There’s
a
whole
merchant’s
venture
of
Bordeaux
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
cares
.
Enter
Drawer
.
Sir
,
Ancient
Pistol’s
below
and
would
speak
with
you
.
Hang
him
,
swaggering
rascal
!
Let
him
not
come
hither
.
It
is
the
foul-mouthed’st
rogue
in
England
.
If
he
swagger
,
let
him
not
come
here
.
No
,
by
my
faith
,
I
must
live
among
my
neighbors
.
I’ll
no
swaggerers
.
I
am
in
good
name
and
fame
with
the
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
Dost
thou
hear
,
hostess
?
Pray
you
pacify
yourself
,
Sir
John
.
There
comes
no
swaggerers
here
.
Dost
thou
hear
?
It
is
mine
ancient
.
Tilly-vally
,
Sir
John
,
ne’er
tell
me
.
And
your
ancient
swaggerer
comes
not
in
my
doors
.
I
was
before
Master
Tisick
the
debuty
t’
other
day
,
and
,
as
he
said
to
me
—
’twas
no
longer
ago
than
Wednesday
last
,
i’
good
faith
—
Neighbor
Quickly
,
says
he
—
Master
Dumb
,
our
minister
,
was
by
then
—
Neighbor
Quickly
,
says
he
,
receive
those
that
are
civil
,
for
,
said
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
take
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
.
He’s
no
swaggerer
,
hostess
,
a
tame
cheater
,
i’
faith
.
You
may
stroke
him
as
gently
as
a
puppy
greyhound
.
He’ll
not
swagger
with
a
Barbary
hen
if
her
feathers
turn
back
in
any
show
of
resistance
.
—
Call
him
up
,
drawer
.
Drawer
exits
.
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
.
So
you
do
,
hostess
.
Do
I
?
Yea
,
in
very
truth
,
do
I
,
an
’twere
an
aspen
leaf
.
I
cannot
abide
swaggerers
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Enter
Ancient
Pistol
,
Bardolph
,
and
Page
.
God
save
you
,
Sir
John
.
Welcome
,
Ancient
Pistol
.
Here
,
Pistol
,
I
charge
you
with
a
cup
of
sack
.
Do
you
discharge
upon
mine
hostess
.
I
will
discharge
upon
her
,
Sir
John
,
with
two
bullets
.
She
is
pistol-proof
.
Sir
,
you
shall
not
hardly
offend
her
.
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
.
Then
,
to
you
,
Mistress
Dorothy
!
I
will
charge
you
.
Charge
me
?
I
scorn
you
,
scurvy
companion
.
What
,
you
poor
,
base
,
rascally
,
cheating
lack-linen
mate
!
Away
,
you
mouldy
rogue
,
away
!
I
am
meat
for
your
master
.
I
know
you
,
Mistress
Dorothy
.
Away
,
you
cutpurse
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
?
God’s
light
,
with
two
points
on
your
shoulder
?
Much
!
God
let
me
not
live
but
I
will
murder
your
ruff
for
this
.
No
more
,
Pistol
.
I
would
not
have
you
go
off
here
.
Discharge
yourself
of
our
company
,
Pistol
.
No
,
good
Captain
Pistol
,
not
here
,
sweet
captain
!
Captain
?
Thou
abominable
damned
cheater
,
art
thou
not
ashamed
to
be
called
captain
?
An
captains
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
?
God’s
light
,
these
villains
will
make
the
word
as
odious
as
the
word
occupy
,
which
was
an
excellent
good
word
before
it
was
ill
sorted
.
Therefore
captains
had
need
look
to
’t
.
,
to
Pistol
Pray
thee
go
down
,
good
ancient
.
Hark
thee
hither
,
Mistress
Doll
.
,
to
Bardolph
Not
I
.
I
tell
thee
what
,
Corporal
Bardolph
,
I
could
tear
her
.
I’ll
be
revenged
of
her
.
Pray
thee
go
down
.
I’ll
see
her
damned
first
to
Pluto’s
damnèd
lake
,
by
this
hand
,
to
th’
infernal
deep
with
Erebus
and
tortures
vile
also
.
Hold
hook
and
line
,
say
I
.
Down
,
down
,
dogs
!
Down
,
Fates
!
Have
we
not
Hiren
here
?
He
draws
his
sword
.
Good
Captain
Peesell
,
be
quiet
.
’Tis
very
late
,
i’
faith
.
I
beseek
you
now
,
aggravate
your
choler
.
These
be
good
humors
indeed
.
Shall
pack-horses
and
hollow
pampered
jades
of
Asia
,
which
cannot
go
but
thirty
mile
a
day
,
compare
with
Caesars
and
with
cannibals
and
Troyant
Greeks
?
Nay
,
rather
damn
them
with
King
Cerberus
,
and
let
the
welkin
roar
.
Shall
we
fall
foul
for
toys
?
By
my
troth
,
captain
,
these
are
very
bitter
words
.
Begone
,
good
ancient
.
This
will
grow
to
a
brawl
anon
.
Die
men
like
dogs
!
Give
crowns
like
pins
!
Have
we
not
Hiren
here
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
Then
feed
and
be
fat
,
my
fair
Calipolis
.
Come
,
give
’s
some
sack
.
Si
fortune
me
tormente
,
sperato
me
contento
.
Fear
we
broadsides
?
No
,
let
the
fiend
give
fire
.
Give
me
some
sack
,
and
,
sweetheart
,
lie
thou
there
.
Laying
down
his
sword
.
Come
we
to
full
points
here
?
And
are
etceteras
nothings
?
Pistol
,
I
would
be
quiet
.
Sweet
knight
,
I
kiss
thy
neaf
.
What
,
we
have
seen
the
seven
stars
.
For
God’s
sake
,
thrust
him
downstairs
.
I
cannot
endure
such
a
fustian
rascal
.
Thrust
him
downstairs
?
Know
we
not
Galloway
nags
?
Quoit
him
down
,
Bardolph
,
like
a
shove-groat
shilling
.
Nay
,
an
he
do
nothing
but
speak
nothing
,
he
shall
be
nothing
here
.
Come
,
get
you
downstairs
.
,
taking
up
his
sword
What
,
shall
we
have
incision
?
Shall
we
imbrue
?
Then
death
rock
me
asleep
,
abridge
my
doleful
days
.
Why
then
,
let
grievous
,
ghastly
,
gaping
wounds
untwind
the
Sisters
Three
.
Come
,
Atropos
,
I
say
.
Here’s
goodly
stuff
toward
!
Give
me
my
rapier
,
boy
.
I
pray
thee
,
Jack
,
I
pray
thee
do
not
draw
.
,
to
Pistol
Get
you
downstairs
.
They
fight
.
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
.
Bardolph
and
Pistol
exit
.
I
pray
thee
,
Jack
,
be
quiet
.
The
rascal’s
gone
.
Ah
,
you
whoreson
little
valiant
villain
,
you
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
,
to
Falstaff
Are
you
not
hurt
i’
th’
groin
?
Methought
he
made
a
shrewd
thrust
at
your
belly
.
Enter
Bardolph
.
Have
you
turned
him
out
o’
doors
?
Yea
,
sir
.
The
rascal’s
drunk
.
You
have
hurt
him
,
sir
,
i’
th’
shoulder
.
A
rascal
to
brave
me
!
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
!
Ah
,
rascally
slave
!
I
will
toss
the
rogue
in
a
blanket
.
Do
,
an
thou
darest
for
thy
heart
.
An
thou
dost
,
I’ll
canvass
thee
between
a
pair
of
sheets
.
Enter
Musicians
and
Francis
.
The
music
is
come
,
sir
.
Let
them
play
.
—
Play
,
sirs
.
—
Sit
on
my
knee
,
Doll
.
A
rascal
bragging
slave
!
The
rogue
fled
from
me
like
quicksilver
.
I’
faith
,
and
thou
followed’st
him
like
a
church
.
Thou
whoreson
little
tidy
Bartholomew
boar-pig
,
when
wilt
thou
leave
fighting
a-days
and
foining
a-nights
and
begin
to
patch
up
thine
old
body
for
heaven
?
Enter
behind
them
Prince
and
Poins
disguised
.
Peace
,
good
Doll
.
Do
not
speak
like
a
death’s-head
;
do
not
bid
me
remember
mine
end
.
Sirrah
,
what
humor’s
the
Prince
of
?
A
good
shallow
young
fellow
,
he
would
have
ACT 2. SC. 4
made
a
good
pantler
;
he
would
’a
chipped
bread
well
.
They
say
Poins
has
a
good
wit
.
He
a
good
wit
?
Hang
him
,
baboon
.
His
wit’s
as
thick
as
Tewkesbury
mustard
.
There’s
no
more
conceit
in
him
than
is
in
a
mallet
.
Why
does
the
Prince
love
him
so
then
?
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
boots
very
smooth
like
unto
the
sign
of
the
Leg
,
and
breeds
no
bate
with
telling
of
discreet
stories
,
and
such
other
gambol
faculties
he
has
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
.
,
aside
to
Poins
Would
not
this
nave
of
a
wheel
have
his
ears
cut
off
?
Let’s
beat
him
before
his
whore
.
Look
whe’er
the
withered
elder
hath
not
his
poll
clawed
like
a
parrot
.
Is
it
not
strange
that
desire
should
so
many
years
outlive
performance
?
Kiss
me
,
Doll
.
,
aside
to
Poins
Saturn
and
Venus
this
year
in
conjunction
!
What
says
th’
almanac
to
that
?
And
look
whether
the
fiery
trigon
,
his
man
,
be
not
lisping
to
his
master’s
old
tables
,
his
notebook
,
his
counsel
keeper
.
,
to
Doll
Thou
dost
give
me
flattering
busses
.
By
my
troth
,
I
kiss
thee
with
a
most
constant
heart
.
I
am
old
,
I
am
old
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
I
love
thee
better
than
I
love
e’er
a
scurvy
young
boy
of
them
all
.
What
stuff
wilt
thou
have
a
kirtle
of
?
I
shall
receive
money
o’
Thursday
;
thou
shalt
have
a
cap
tomorrow
.
A
merry
song
!
Come
,
it
grows
late
.
We’ll
to
bed
.
Thou
’lt
forget
me
when
I
am
gone
.
By
my
troth
,
thou
’lt
set
me
a-weeping
an
thou
sayst
so
.
Prove
that
ever
I
dress
myself
handsome
till
thy
return
.
Well
,
harken
a’
th’
end
.
Some
sack
,
Francis
.
,
coming
forward
Anon
,
anon
,
sir
.
Ha
?
A
bastard
son
of
the
King’s
?
—
And
art
not
thou
Poins
his
brother
?
Why
,
thou
globe
of
sinful
continents
,
what
a
life
dost
thou
lead
?
A
better
than
thou
.
I
am
a
gentleman
.
Thou
art
a
drawer
.
Very
true
,
sir
,
and
I
come
to
draw
you
out
by
the
ears
.
O
,
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
?
,
to
Prince
Thou
whoreson
mad
compound
of
majesty
,
by
this
light
flesh
and
corrupt
blood
,
thou
art
welcome
.
How
?
You
fat
fool
,
I
scorn
you
.
My
lord
,
he
will
drive
you
out
of
your
revenge
and
turn
all
to
a
merriment
if
you
take
not
the
heat
.
,
to
Falstaff
You
whoreson
candle-mine
,
you
,
how
vilely
did
you
speak
of
me
even
now
before
this
honest
,
virtuous
,
civil
gentlewoman
!
God’s
blessing
of
your
good
heart
,
and
so
she
is
,
by
my
troth
.
,
to
Prince
Didst
thou
hear
me
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
Yea
,
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
.
No
,
no
,
no
,
not
so
.
I
did
not
think
thou
wast
within
hearing
.
I
shall
drive
you
,
then
,
to
confess
the
wilfull
abuse
,
and
then
I
know
how
to
handle
you
.
No
abuse
,
Hal
,
o’
mine
honor
,
no
abuse
.
Not
to
dispraise
me
and
call
me
pantler
and
bread-chipper
and
I
know
not
what
?
No
abuse
,
Hal
.
No
abuse
?
No
abuse
,
Ned
,
i’
th’
world
,
honest
Ned
,
none
.
I
dispraised
him
before
the
wicked
,
(
to
Prince
)
that
the
wicked
might
not
fall
in
love
with
thee
;
in
which
doing
,
I
have
done
the
part
of
a
careful
friend
and
a
true
subject
,
and
thy
father
is
to
give
me
thanks
for
it
.
No
abuse
,
Hal
.
—
None
,
Ned
,
none
.
No
,
faith
,
boys
,
none
.
See
now
whether
pure
fear
and
entire
cowardice
doth
not
make
thee
wrong
this
virtuous
gentlewoman
to
close
with
us
.
Is
she
of
the
wicked
,
is
thine
hostess
here
of
the
wicked
,
or
is
thy
boy
of
the
wicked
,
or
honest
Bardolph
,
whose
zeal
burns
in
his
nose
,
of
the
wicked
?
Answer
,
thou
dead
elm
,
answer
.
The
fiend
hath
pricked
down
Bardolph
irrecoverable
,
and
his
face
is
Lucifer’s
privy
kitchen
,
where
he
doth
nothing
but
roast
malt-worms
.
For
the
boy
,
there
is
a
good
angel
about
him
,
but
the
devil
blinds
him
too
.
For
the
women
?
For
one
of
them
,
she’s
in
hell
already
and
burns
poor
souls
.
For
th’
other
,
I
owe
her
money
,
and
whether
she
be
damned
for
that
I
know
not
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
No
,
I
warrant
you
.
No
,
I
think
thou
art
not
.
I
think
thou
art
quit
for
that
.
Marry
,
there
is
another
indictment
upon
thee
for
suffering
flesh
to
be
eaten
in
thy
house
contrary
to
the
law
,
for
the
which
I
think
thou
wilt
howl
.
All
vitlars
do
so
.
What’s
a
joint
of
mutton
or
two
in
a
whole
Lent
?
,
to
Doll
You
,
gentlewoman
.
What
says
your
Grace
?
His
grace
says
that
which
his
flesh
rebels
against
.
Peto
knocks
at
door
.
Who
knocks
so
loud
at
door
?
Look
to
th’
door
there
,
Francis
.
Francis
exits
.
Enter
Peto
.
Peto
,
how
now
,
what
news
?
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
,
Bareheaded
,
sweating
,
knocking
at
the
taverns
And
asking
everyone
for
Sir
John
Falstaff
.
By
heaven
,
Poins
,
I
feel
me
much
to
blame
So
idly
to
profane
the
precious
time
When
tempest
of
commotion
,
like
the
south
Borne
with
black
vapor
,
doth
begin
to
melt
And
drop
upon
our
bare
unarmèd
heads
.
—
Give
me
my
sword
and
cloak
.
—
Falstaff
,
good
night
.
Prince
,
Peto
,
and
Poins
exit
.
Now
comes
in
the
sweetest
morsel
of
the
night
,
and
we
must
hence
and
leave
it
unpicked
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
(
Knocking
.
Bardolph
exits
.
)
More
knocking
at
the
door
?
(
Bardolph
returns
.
)
How
now
,
what’s
the
matter
?
You
must
away
to
court
,
sir
,
presently
.
A
dozen
captains
stay
at
door
for
you
.
,
to
Page
Pay
the
musicians
,
sirrah
.
—
Farewell
,
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
.
I
cannot
speak
.
If
my
heart
be
not
ready
to
burst
—
well
,
sweet
Jack
,
have
a
care
of
thyself
.
Farewell
,
farewell
.
He
exits
with
Bardolph
,
Page
,
and
Musicians
.
Well
,
fare
thee
well
.
I
have
known
thee
these
twenty-nine
years
,
come
peasecod
time
,
but
an
honester
and
truer-hearted
man
—
well
,
fare
thee
well
.
,
within
Mistress
Tearsheet
!
What’s
the
matter
?
,
within
Bid
Mistress
Tearsheet
come
to
my
master
.
O
,
run
,
Doll
,
run
,
run
,
good
Doll
.
Come
.
—
She
comes
blubbered
.
—
Yea
!
Will
you
come
,
Doll
?
They
exit
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Enter
the
King
in
his
nightgown
with
a
Page
.
Go
call
the
Earls
of
Surrey
and
of
Warwick
;
But
,
ere
they
come
,
bid
them
o’erread
these
letters
And
well
consider
of
them
.
Make
good
speed
.
Page
exits
.
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
sound
of
sweetest
melody
?
O
thou
dull
god
,
why
liest
thou
with
the
vile
In
loathsome
beds
and
leavest
the
kingly
couch
A
watch-case
or
a
common
’larum
bell
?
Wilt
thou
upon
the
high
and
giddy
mast
Seal
up
the
shipboy’s
eyes
and
rock
his
brains
In
cradle
of
the
rude
imperious
surge
And
in
the
visitation
of
the
winds
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
Who
take
the
ruffian
billows
by
the
top
,
Curling
their
monstrous
heads
and
hanging
them
With
deafing
clamor
in
the
slippery
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
,
Surrey
and
Sir
John
Blunt
.
Many
good
morrows
to
your
Majesty
.
Is
it
good
morrow
,
lords
?
’Tis
one
o’clock
,
and
past
.
Why
then
,
good
morrow
to
you
all
,
my
lords
.
Have
you
read
o’er
the
letter
that
I
sent
you
?
We
have
,
my
liege
.
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
.
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
.
O
God
,
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
ACT 3. SC. 1
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
!
O
,
if
this
were
seen
,
The
happiest
youth
,
viewing
his
progress
through
,
What
perils
past
,
what
crosses
to
ensue
,
Would
shut
the
book
and
sit
him
down
and
die
.
’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
—
To
Warwick
.
You
,
cousin
Nevil
,
as
I
may
remember
—
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
Bolingbroke
ascends
my
throne
—
Though
then
,
God
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
.
There
is
a
history
in
all
men’s
lives
Figuring
the
natures
of
the
times
deceased
,
The
which
observed
,
a
man
may
prophesy
,
With
a
near
aim
,
of
the
main
chance
of
things
ACT 3. SC. 1
As
yet
not
come
to
life
,
who
in
their
seeds
And
weak
beginning
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
.
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
.
It
cannot
be
,
my
lord
.
Rumor
doth
double
,
like
the
voice
and
echo
,
The
numbers
of
the
feared
.
Please
it
your
Grace
To
go
to
bed
.
Upon
my
soul
,
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
.
I
will
take
your
counsel
.
And
were
these
inward
wars
once
out
of
hand
,
We
would
,
dear
lords
,
unto
the
Holy
Land
.
They
exit
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Justice
Shallow
and
Justice
Silence
.
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
?
Good
morrow
,
good
cousin
Shallow
.
And
how
doth
my
cousin
your
bedfellow
?
And
your
fairest
daughter
and
mine
,
my
goddaughter
Ellen
?
Alas
,
a
black
ousel
,
cousin
Shallow
.
By
yea
and
no
,
sir
.
I
dare
say
my
cousin
William
is
become
a
good
scholar
.
He
is
at
Oxford
still
,
is
he
not
?
Indeed
,
sir
,
to
my
cost
.
He
must
then
to
the
Inns
o’
Court
shortly
.
I
was
once
of
Clement’s
Inn
,
where
I
think
they
will
talk
of
mad
Shallow
yet
.
You
were
called
Lusty
Shallow
then
,
cousin
.
By
the
Mass
,
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
Barnes
,
and
Francis
Pickbone
,
and
Will
Squele
,
a
Cotswold
man
.
You
had
not
four
such
swinge-bucklers
in
all
the
Inns
o’
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
.
This
Sir
John
,
cousin
,
that
comes
hither
anon
about
soldiers
?
The
same
Sir
John
,
the
very
same
.
I
see
him
break
Scoggin’s
head
at
the
court
gate
,
when
he
was
a
crack
not
thus
high
;
and
the
very
same
day
did
ACT 3. SC. 2
I
fight
with
one
Sampson
Stockfish
,
a
fruiterer
,
behind
Grey’s
Inn
.
Jesu
,
Jesu
,
the
mad
days
that
I
have
spent
!
And
to
see
how
many
of
my
old
acquaintance
are
dead
.
We
shall
all
follow
,
cousin
.
Certain
,
’tis
certain
,
very
sure
,
very
sure
.
Death
,
as
the
Psalmist
saith
,
is
certain
to
all
.
All
shall
die
.
How
a
good
yoke
of
bullocks
at
Stamford
Fair
?
By
my
troth
,
cousin
,
I
was
not
there
.
Death
is
certain
.
Is
old
Dooble
of
your
town
living
yet
?
Dead
,
sir
.
Jesu
,
Jesu
,
dead
!
He
drew
a
good
bow
,
and
dead
?
He
shot
a
fine
shoot
.
John
o’
Gaunt
loved
him
well
,
and
betted
much
money
on
his
head
.
Dead
!
He
would
have
clapped
i’
th’
clout
at
twelve
score
,
and
carried
you
a
forehand
shaft
a
fourteen
and
fourteen
and
a
half
,
that
it
would
have
done
a
man’s
heart
good
to
see
.
How
a
score
of
ewes
now
?
Thereafter
as
they
be
,
a
score
of
good
ewes
may
be
worth
ten
pounds
.
And
is
old
Dooble
dead
?
Here
come
two
of
Sir
John
Falstaff’s
men
,
as
I
think
.
Enter
Bardolph
and
one
with
him
.
Good
morrow
,
honest
gentlemen
.
I
beseech
you
,
which
is
Justice
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
?
My
captain
,
sir
,
commends
him
to
you
,
my
captain
,
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
a
tall
gentleman
,
by
heaven
,
and
a
most
gallant
leader
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
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
?
Sir
,
pardon
.
A
soldier
is
better
accommodated
than
with
a
wife
.
It
is
well
said
,
in
faith
,
sir
,
and
it
is
well
said
indeed
too
.
Better
accommodated
.
It
is
good
,
yea
,
indeed
is
it
.
Good
phrases
are
surely
,
and
ever
were
,
very
commendable
.
Accommodated
.
It
comes
of
accommodo
.
Very
good
,
a
good
phrase
.
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
soldierlike
word
,
and
a
word
of
exceeding
good
command
,
by
heaven
.
Accommodated
,
that
is
when
a
man
is
,
as
they
say
,
accommodated
,
or
when
a
man
is
being
whereby
he
may
be
thought
to
be
accommodated
,
which
is
an
excellent
thing
.
Enter
Falstaff
.
It
is
very
just
.
Look
,
here
comes
good
Sir
John
.
—
Give
me
your
good
hand
,
give
me
your
Worship’s
good
hand
.
By
my
troth
,
you
like
well
and
bear
your
years
very
well
.
Welcome
,
good
Sir
John
.
I
am
glad
to
see
you
well
,
good
Master
Robert
Shallow
.
—
Master
Sure-card
,
as
I
think
?
No
,
Sir
John
.
It
is
my
cousin
Silence
,
in
commission
with
me
.
Good
Master
Silence
,
it
well
befits
you
should
be
of
the
peace
.
Your
good
Worship
is
welcome
.
Fie
,
this
is
hot
weather
,
gentlemen
.
Have
you
provided
me
here
half
a
dozen
sufficient
men
?
Marry
,
have
we
,
sir
.
Will
you
sit
?
They
sit
at
a
table
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Let
me
see
them
,
I
beseech
you
.
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
,
so
.
So
,
so
.
Yea
,
marry
,
sir
.
—
Rafe
Mouldy
!
—
Let
them
appear
as
I
call
,
let
them
do
so
,
let
them
do
so
.
Enter
Mouldy
,
followed
by
Shadow
,
Wart
,
Feeble
,
and
Bullcalf
.
Let
me
see
,
where
is
Mouldy
?
,
coming
forward
Here
,
an
it
please
you
.
What
think
you
,
Sir
John
?
A
good-limbed
fellow
,
young
,
strong
,
and
of
good
friends
.
Is
thy
name
Mouldy
?
Yea
,
an
’t
please
you
.
’Tis
the
more
time
thou
wert
used
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
,
most
excellent
,
i’
faith
!
Things
that
are
mouldy
lack
use
.
Very
singular
good
,
in
faith
.
Well
said
,
Sir
John
,
very
well
said
.
Prick
him
.
Shallow
marks
the
scroll
.
I
was
pricked
well
enough
before
,
an
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
.
Go
to
.
Peace
,
Mouldy
.
You
shall
go
.
Mouldy
,
it
is
time
you
were
spent
.
Spent
?
Peace
,
fellow
,
peace
.
Stand
aside
.
Know
you
where
you
are
?
—
For
th’
other
,
Sir
John
.
Let
me
see
.
—
Simon
Shadow
!
Yea
,
marry
,
let
me
have
him
to
sit
under
.
He’s
like
to
be
a
cold
soldier
.
Where’s
Shadow
?
ACT 3. SC. 2
,
coming
forward
Here
,
sir
.
Shadow
,
whose
son
art
thou
?
My
mother’s
son
,
sir
.
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
much
of
the
father’s
substance
.
Do
you
like
him
,
Sir
John
?
Shadow
will
serve
for
summer
.
Prick
him
,
for
we
have
a
number
of
shadows
to
fill
up
the
muster
book
.
Thomas
Wart
!
Where’s
he
?
,
coming
forward
Here
,
sir
.
Is
thy
name
Wart
?
Yea
,
sir
.
Thou
art
a
very
ragged
wart
.
Shall
I
prick
him
down
,
Sir
John
?
It
were
superfluous
,
for
his
apparel
is
built
upon
his
back
,
and
the
whole
frame
stands
upon
pins
.
Prick
him
no
more
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
.
You
can
do
it
,
sir
,
you
can
do
it
.
I
commend
you
well
.
—
Francis
Feeble
!
,
coming
forward
Here
,
sir
.
What
trade
art
thou
,
Feeble
?
A
woman’s
tailor
,
sir
.
Shall
I
prick
him
,
sir
?
You
may
,
but
if
he
had
been
a
man’s
tailor
,
he’d
ha’
pricked
you
.
—
Wilt
thou
make
as
many
holes
in
an
enemy’s
battle
as
thou
hast
done
in
a
woman’s
petticoat
?
I
will
do
my
good
will
,
sir
.
You
can
have
no
more
.
Well
said
,
good
woman’s
tailor
,
well
said
,
courageous
Feeble
.
Thou
wilt
be
as
valiant
as
the
ACT 3. SC. 2
wrathful
dove
or
most
magnanimous
mouse
.
—
Prick
the
woman’s
tailor
well
,
Master
Shallow
,
deep
,
Master
Shallow
.
I
would
Wart
might
have
gone
,
sir
.
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
.
It
shall
suffice
,
sir
.
I
am
bound
to
thee
,
reverend
Feeble
.
—
Who
is
the
next
?
Peter
Bullcalf
o’
th’
green
.
Yea
,
marry
,
let’s
see
Bullcalf
.
,
coming
forward
Here
,
sir
.
Fore
God
,
a
likely
fellow
.
Come
,
prick
me
Bullcalf
till
he
roar
again
.
O
Lord
,
good
my
lord
captain
—
What
,
dost
thou
roar
before
thou
art
pricked
?
O
Lord
,
sir
,
I
am
a
diseased
man
.
What
disease
hast
thou
?
A
whoreson
cold
,
sir
,
a
cough
,
sir
,
which
I
caught
with
ringing
in
the
King’s
affairs
upon
his
coronation
day
,
sir
.
Come
,
thou
shalt
go
to
the
wars
in
a
gown
.
We
will
have
away
thy
cold
,
and
I
will
take
such
order
that
thy
friends
shall
ring
for
thee
.
—
Is
here
all
?
Here
is
two
more
called
than
your
number
.
You
must
have
but
four
here
,
sir
,
and
so
I
pray
you
go
in
with
me
to
dinner
.
Come
,
I
will
go
drink
with
you
,
but
I
cannot
tarry
dinner
.
I
am
glad
to
see
you
,
by
my
troth
,
Master
Shallow
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
O
,
Sir
John
,
do
you
remember
since
we
lay
all
night
in
the
windmill
in
Saint
George’s
Field
?
No
more
of
that
,
good
Master
Shallow
,
no
more
of
that
.
Ha
,
’twas
a
merry
night
.
And
is
Jane
Nightwork
alive
?
She
lives
,
Master
Shallow
.
She
never
could
away
with
me
.
Never
,
never
.
She
would
always
say
she
could
not
abide
Master
Shallow
.
By
the
Mass
,
I
could
anger
her
to
th’
heart
.
She
was
then
a
bona
roba
.
Doth
she
hold
her
own
well
?
Old
,
old
,
Master
Shallow
.
Nay
,
she
must
be
old
.
She
cannot
choose
but
be
old
.
Certain
,
she’s
old
,
and
had
Robin
Nightwork
by
old
Nightwork
before
I
came
to
Clement’s
Inn
.
That’s
fifty-five
year
ago
.
Ha
,
cousin
Silence
,
that
thou
hadst
seen
that
that
this
knight
and
I
have
seen
!
—
Ha
,
Sir
John
,
said
I
well
?
We
have
heard
the
chimes
at
midnight
,
Master
Shallow
.
That
we
have
,
that
we
have
,
that
we
have
.
In
faith
,
Sir
John
,
we
have
.
Our
watchword
was
Hem
,
boys
.
Come
,
let’s
to
dinner
,
come
,
let’s
to
dinner
.
Jesus
,
the
days
that
we
have
seen
!
Come
,
come
.
Shallow
,
Silence
,
and
Falstaff
rise
and
exit
.
Good
Master
Corporate
Bardolph
,
stand
my
friend
,
and
here’s
four
Harry
ten-shillings
in
French
crowns
for
you
.
He
gives
Bardolph
money
.
In
very
truth
,
sir
,
I
had
as
lief
be
hanged
,
sir
,
as
go
.
And
yet
,
for
mine
own
part
,
sir
,
I
do
not
care
,
but
rather
because
I
am
unwilling
,
and
,
for
mine
own
part
,
have
a
desire
to
stay
with
my
friends
.
Else
,
sir
,
I
did
not
care
,
for
mine
own
part
,
so
much
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Go
to
.
Stand
aside
.
And
,
good
Master
Corporal
Captain
,
for
my
old
dame’s
sake
,
stand
my
friend
.
She
has
nobody
to
do
anything
about
her
when
I
am
gone
,
and
she
is
old
and
cannot
help
herself
.
You
shall
have
forty
,
sir
.
He
gives
money
.
Go
to
.
Stand
aside
.
By
my
troth
,
I
care
not
.
A
man
can
die
but
once
.
We
owe
God
a
death
.
I’ll
ne’er
bear
a
base
mind
.
An
’t
be
my
destiny
,
so
;
an
’t
be
not
,
so
.
No
man’s
too
good
to
serve
’s
prince
,
and
let
it
go
which
way
it
will
,
he
that
dies
this
year
is
quit
for
the
next
.
Well
said
.
Th’
art
a
good
fellow
.
Faith
,
I’ll
bear
no
base
mind
.
Enter
Falstaff
and
the
Justices
.
Come
,
sir
,
which
men
shall
I
have
?
Four
of
which
you
please
.
,
aside
to
Falstaff
Sir
,
a
word
with
you
.
I
have
three
pound
to
free
Mouldy
and
Bullcalf
.
Go
to
,
well
.
Come
,
Sir
John
,
which
four
will
you
have
?
Do
you
choose
for
me
.
Marry
,
then
,
Mouldy
,
Bullcalf
,
Feeble
,
and
Shadow
.
Mouldy
and
Bullcalf
!
For
you
,
Mouldy
,
stay
at
home
till
you
are
past
service
.
—
And
for
your
part
,
Bullcalf
,
grow
till
you
come
unto
it
.
I
will
none
of
you
.
Mouldy
and
Bullcalf
exit
.
Sir
John
,
Sir
John
,
do
not
yourself
wrong
.
They
are
your
likeliest
men
,
and
I
would
have
you
served
with
the
best
.
Will
you
tell
me
,
Master
Shallow
,
how
to
choose
a
man
?
Care
I
for
the
limb
,
the
thews
,
the
ACT 3. SC. 2
stature
,
bulk
and
big
assemblance
of
a
man
?
Give
me
the
spirit
,
Master
Shallow
.
Here’s
Wart
.
You
see
what
a
ragged
appearance
it
is
.
He
shall
charge
you
and
discharge
you
with
the
motion
of
a
pewterer’s
hammer
,
come
off
and
on
swifter
than
he
that
gibbets
on
the
brewer’s
bucket
.
And
this
same
half-faced
fellow
,
Shadow
,
give
me
this
man
.
He
presents
no
mark
to
the
enemy
.
The
foeman
may
with
as
great
aim
level
at
the
edge
of
a
penknife
.
And
for
a
retreat
,
how
swiftly
will
this
Feeble
,
the
woman’s
tailor
,
run
off
!
O
,
give
me
the
spare
men
,
and
spare
me
the
great
ones
.
—
Put
me
a
caliver
into
Wart’s
hand
,
Bardolph
.
,
giving
Wart
a
musket
Hold
,
Wart
.
Traverse
.
Thas
,
thas
,
thas
.
,
to
Wart
Come
,
manage
me
your
caliver
:
so
,
very
well
,
go
to
,
very
good
,
exceeding
good
.
O
,
give
me
always
a
little
,
lean
,
old
,
chopped
,
bald
shot
.
Well
said
,
i’
faith
,
Wart
.
Th’
art
a
good
scab
.
Hold
,
there’s
a
tester
for
thee
.
He
gives
Wart
money
.
He
is
not
his
craft’s
master
.
He
doth
not
do
it
right
.
I
remember
at
Mile
End
Green
,
when
I
lay
at
Clement’s
Inn
—
I
was
then
Sir
Dagonet
in
Arthur’s
show
—
there
was
a
little
quiver
fellow
,
and
he
would
manage
you
his
piece
thus
.
Shallow
performs
with
the
musket
.
And
he
would
about
and
about
,
and
come
you
in
,
and
come
you
in
.
Rah
,
tah
,
tah
,
would
he
say
.
Bounce
,
would
he
say
,
and
away
again
would
he
go
,
and
again
would
he
come
.
I
shall
ne’er
see
such
a
fellow
.
These
fellows
will
do
well
,
Master
Shallow
.
—
God
keep
you
,
Master
Silence
.
I
will
not
use
many
words
with
you
.
Fare
you
well
,
gentlemen
both
.
I
thank
you
.
I
must
a
dozen
mile
tonight
.
—
Bardolph
,
give
the
soldiers
coats
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Sir
John
,
the
Lord
bless
you
.
God
prosper
your
affairs
.
God
send
us
peace
.
At
your
return
,
visit
our
house
.
Let
our
old
acquaintance
be
renewed
.
Peradventure
I
will
with
you
to
the
court
.
Fore
God
,
would
you
would
,
Master
Shallow
.
Go
to
.
I
have
spoke
at
a
word
.
God
keep
you
.
Fare
you
well
,
gentle
gentlemen
.
Shallow
and
Silence
exit
.
On
,
Bardolph
.
Lead
the
men
away
.
All
but
Falstaff
exit
.
As
I
return
,
I
will
fetch
off
these
justices
.
I
do
see
the
bottom
of
Justice
Shallow
.
Lord
,
Lord
,
how
subject
we
old
men
are
to
this
vice
of
lying
.
This
same
starved
justice
hath
done
nothing
but
prate
to
me
of
the
wildness
of
his
youth
and
the
feats
he
hath
done
about
Turnbull
Street
,
and
every
third
word
a
lie
,
duer
paid
to
the
hearer
than
the
Turk’s
tribute
.
I
do
remember
him
at
Clement’s
Inn
,
like
a
man
made
after
supper
of
a
cheese
paring
.
When
he
was
naked
,
he
was
,
for
all
the
world
,
like
a
forked
radish
with
a
head
fantastically
carved
upon
it
with
a
knife
.
He
was
so
forlorn
that
his
dimensions
to
any
thick
sight
were
invincible
.
He
was
the
very
genius
of
famine
,
yet
lecherous
as
a
monkey
,
and
the
whores
called
him
mandrake
.
He
came
ever
in
the
rearward
of
the
fashion
,
and
sung
those
tunes
to
the
overscutched
huswives
that
he
heard
the
carmen
whistle
,
and
swore
they
were
his
fancies
or
his
good-nights
.
And
now
is
this
Vice’s
dagger
become
a
squire
,
and
talks
as
familiarly
of
John
o’
Gaunt
as
if
he
had
been
sworn
brother
to
him
,
and
I’ll
be
sworn
he
ne’er
saw
him
but
once
in
the
tilt-yard
,
and
then
he
burst
his
head
for
crowding
among
the
Marshal’s
men
.
I
saw
it
and
told
John
o’
Gaunt
he
beat
his
own
name
,
for
ACT 3. SC. 2
you
might
have
thrust
him
and
all
his
apparel
into
an
eel-skin
;
the
case
of
a
treble
hautboy
was
a
mansion
for
him
,
a
court
.
And
now
has
he
land
and
beefs
.
Well
,
I’ll
be
acquainted
with
him
if
I
return
,
and
’t
shall
go
hard
but
I’ll
make
him
a
philosopher’s
two
stones
to
me
.
If
the
young
dace
be
a
bait
for
the
old
pike
,
I
see
no
reason
in
the
law
of
nature
but
I
may
snap
at
him
.
Let
time
shape
,
and
there
an
end
.
He
exits
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Enter
the
Archbishop
of
York
,
Mowbray
,
Lord
Bardolph
,
Hastings
,
and
their
officers
within
the
Forest
of
Gaultree
.
What
is
this
forest
called
?
’Tis
Gaultree
Forest
,
an
’t
shall
please
your
Grace
.
Here
stand
,
my
lords
,
and
send
discoverers
forth
To
know
the
numbers
of
our
enemies
.
We
have
sent
forth
already
.
’Tis
well
done
.
My
friends
and
brethren
in
these
great
affairs
,
I
must
acquaint
you
that
I
have
received
New-dated
letters
from
Northumberland
,
Their
cold
intent
,
tenor
,
and
substance
,
thus
:
Here
doth
he
wish
his
person
,
with
such
powers
As
might
hold
sortance
with
his
quality
,
The
which
he
could
not
levy
;
whereupon
He
is
retired
,
to
ripe
his
growing
fortunes
,
To
Scotland
,
and
concludes
in
hearty
prayers
That
your
attempts
may
overlive
the
hazard
And
fearful
meeting
of
their
opposite
.
Thus
do
the
hopes
we
have
in
him
touch
ground
And
dash
themselves
to
pieces
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Enter
Messenger
.
Now
,
what
news
?
West
of
this
forest
,
scarcely
off
a
mile
,
In
goodly
form
comes
on
the
enemy
,
And
,
by
the
ground
they
hide
,
I
judge
their
number
Upon
or
near
the
rate
of
thirty
thousand
.
The
just
proportion
that
we
gave
them
out
.
Let
us
sway
on
and
face
them
in
the
field
.
Enter
Westmoreland
.
What
well-appointed
leader
fronts
us
here
?
I
think
it
is
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
Health
and
fair
greeting
from
our
general
,
The
Prince
Lord
John
and
Duke
of
Lancaster
.
Say
on
,
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
,
in
peace
,
What
doth
concern
your
coming
.
Then
,
my
lord
,
Unto
your
Grace
do
I
in
chief
address
The
substance
of
my
speech
.
If
that
rebellion
Came
like
itself
,
in
base
and
abject
routs
,
Led
on
by
bloody
youth
,
guarded
with
rage
,
And
countenanced
by
boys
and
beggary
—
I
say
,
if
damned
commotion
so
appeared
In
his
true
,
native
,
and
most
proper
shape
,
You
,
reverend
father
,
and
these
noble
lords
Had
not
been
here
to
dress
the
ugly
form
Of
base
and
bloody
insurrection
With
your
fair
honors
.
You
,
Lord
Archbishop
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
Whose
see
is
by
a
civil
peace
maintained
,
Whose
beard
the
silver
hand
of
peace
hath
touched
,
Whose
learning
and
good
letters
peace
hath
tutored
,
Whose
white
investments
figure
innocence
,
The
dove
and
very
blessèd
spirit
of
peace
,
Wherefore
do
you
so
ill
translate
yourself
Out
of
the
speech
of
peace
,
that
bears
such
grace
,
Into
the
harsh
and
boist’rous
tongue
of
war
,
Turning
your
books
to
graves
,
your
ink
to
blood
,
Your
pens
to
lances
,
and
your
tongue
divine
To
a
loud
trumpet
and
a
point
of
war
?
Wherefore
do
I
this
?
So
the
question
stands
.
Briefly
,
to
this
end
:
we
are
all
diseased
And
with
our
surfeiting
and
wanton
hours
Have
brought
ourselves
into
a
burning
fever
,
And
we
must
bleed
for
it
;
of
which
disease
Our
late
King
Richard
,
being
infected
,
died
.
But
,
my
most
noble
Lord
of
Westmoreland
,
I
take
not
on
me
here
as
a
physician
,
Nor
do
I
as
an
enemy
to
peace
Troop
in
the
throngs
of
military
men
,
But
rather
show
awhile
like
fearful
war
To
diet
rank
minds
sick
of
happiness
And
purge
th’
obstructions
which
begin
to
stop
Our
very
veins
of
life
.
Hear
me
more
plainly
.
I
have
in
equal
balance
justly
weighed
What
wrongs
our
arms
may
do
,
what
wrongs
we
suffer
,
And
find
our
griefs
heavier
than
our
offenses
.
We
see
which
way
the
stream
of
time
doth
run
And
are
enforced
from
our
most
quiet
there
By
the
rough
torrent
of
occasion
,
And
have
the
summary
of
all
our
griefs
,
When
time
shall
serve
,
to
show
in
articles
;
ACT 4. SC. 1
Which
long
ere
this
we
offered
to
the
King
And
might
by
no
suit
gain
our
audience
.
When
we
are
wronged
and
would
unfold
our
griefs
,
We
are
denied
access
unto
his
person
Even
by
those
men
that
most
have
done
us
wrong
.
The
dangers
of
the
days
but
newly
gone
,
Whose
memory
is
written
on
the
earth
With
yet-appearing
blood
,
and
the
examples
Of
every
minute’s
instance
,
present
now
,
Hath
put
us
in
these
ill-beseeming
arms
,
Not
to
break
peace
or
any
branch
of
it
,
But
to
establish
here
a
peace
indeed
,
Concurring
both
in
name
and
quality
.
Whenever
yet
was
your
appeal
denied
?
Wherein
have
you
been
gallèd
by
the
King
?
What
peer
hath
been
suborned
to
grate
on
you
,
That
you
should
seal
this
lawless
bloody
book
Of
forged
rebellion
with
a
seal
divine
And
consecrate
commotion’s
bitter
edge
?
My
brother
general
,
the
commonwealth
,
To
brother
born
an
household
cruelty
,
I
make
my
quarrel
in
particular
.
There
is
no
need
of
any
such
redress
,
Or
if
there
were
,
it
not
belongs
to
you
.
Why
not
to
him
in
part
,
and
to
us
all
That
feel
the
bruises
of
the
days
before
And
suffer
the
condition
of
these
times
To
lay
a
heavy
and
unequal
hand
Upon
our
honors
?
O
,
my
good
Lord
Mowbray
,
Construe
the
times
to
their
necessities
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
And
you
shall
say
indeed
it
is
the
time
,
And
not
the
King
,
that
doth
you
injuries
.
Yet
for
your
part
,
it
not
appears
to
me
Either
from
the
King
or
in
the
present
time
That
you
should
have
an
inch
of
any
ground
To
build
a
grief
on
.
Were
you
not
restored
To
all
the
Duke
of
Norfolk’s
seigniories
,
Your
noble
and
right
well
remembered
father’s
?
What
thing
,
in
honor
,
had
my
father
lost
That
need
to
be
revived
and
breathed
in
me
?
The
King
that
loved
him
,
as
the
state
stood
then
,
Was
force
perforce
compelled
to
banish
him
,
And
then
that
Henry
Bolingbroke
and
he
,
Being
mounted
and
both
rousèd
in
their
seats
,
Their
neighing
coursers
daring
of
the
spur
,
Their
armèd
staves
in
charge
,
their
beavers
down
,
Their
eyes
of
fire
sparkling
through
sights
of
steel
,
And
the
loud
trumpet
blowing
them
together
,
Then
,
then
,
when
there
was
nothing
could
have
stayed
My
father
from
the
breast
of
Bolingbroke
,
O
,
when
the
King
did
throw
his
warder
down
—
His
own
life
hung
upon
the
staff
he
threw
—
Then
threw
he
down
himself
and
all
their
lives
That
by
indictment
and
by
dint
of
sword
Have
since
miscarried
under
Bolingbroke
.
You
speak
,
Lord
Mowbray
,
now
you
know
not
what
.
The
Earl
of
Hereford
was
reputed
then
In
England
the
most
valiant
gentleman
.
Who
knows
on
whom
fortune
would
then
have
smiled
?
But
if
your
father
had
been
victor
there
,
He
ne’er
had
borne
it
out
of
Coventry
;
ACT 4. SC. 1
For
all
the
country
in
a
general
voice
Cried
hate
upon
him
;
and
all
their
prayers
and
love
Were
set
on
Hereford
,
whom
they
doted
on
And
blessed
and
graced
,
indeed
more
than
the
King
.
But
this
is
mere
digression
from
my
purpose
.
Here
come
I
from
our
princely
general
To
know
your
griefs
,
to
tell
you
from
his
Grace
That
he
will
give
you
audience
;
and
wherein
It
shall
appear
that
your
demands
are
just
,
You
shall
enjoy
them
,
everything
set
off
That
might
so
much
as
think
you
enemies
.
But
he
hath
forced
us
to
compel
this
offer
,
And
it
proceeds
from
policy
,
not
love
.
Mowbray
,
you
overween
to
take
it
so
.
This
offer
comes
from
mercy
,
not
from
fear
.
For
,
lo
,
within
a
ken
our
army
lies
,
Upon
mine
honor
,
all
too
confident
To
give
admittance
to
a
thought
of
fear
.
Our
battle
is
more
full
of
names
than
yours
,
Our
men
more
perfect
in
the
use
of
arms
,
Our
armor
all
as
strong
,
our
cause
the
best
.
Then
reason
will
our
hearts
should
be
as
good
.
Say
you
not
then
our
offer
is
compelled
.
Well
,
by
my
will
,
we
shall
admit
no
parley
.
That
argues
but
the
shame
of
your
offense
.
A
rotten
case
abides
no
handling
.
Hath
the
Prince
John
a
full
commission
,
In
very
ample
virtue
of
his
father
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
To
hear
and
absolutely
to
determine
Of
what
conditions
we
shall
stand
upon
?
That
is
intended
in
the
General’s
name
.
I
muse
you
make
so
slight
a
question
.
,
giving
Westmoreland
a
paper
Then
take
,
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
,
this
schedule
,
For
this
contains
our
general
grievances
.
Each
several
article
herein
redressed
,
All
members
of
our
cause
,
both
here
and
hence
That
are
insinewed
to
this
action
,
Acquitted
by
a
true
substantial
form
And
present
execution
of
our
wills
To
us
and
to
our
purposes
confined
,
We
come
within
our
awful
banks
again
And
knit
our
powers
to
the
arm
of
peace
.
This
will
I
show
the
General
.
Please
you
,
lords
,
In
sight
of
both
our
battles
we
may
meet
,
And
either
end
in
peace
,
which
God
so
frame
,
Or
to
the
place
of
difference
call
the
swords
Which
must
decide
it
.
My
lord
,
we
will
do
so
.
Westmoreland
exits
.
There
is
a
thing
within
my
bosom
tells
me
That
no
conditions
of
our
peace
can
stand
.
Fear
you
not
that
.
If
we
can
make
our
peace
Upon
such
large
terms
and
so
absolute
As
our
conditions
shall
consist
upon
,
Our
peace
shall
stand
as
firm
as
rocky
mountains
.
Yea
,
but
our
valuation
shall
be
such
That
every
slight
and
false-derivèd
cause
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
Yea
,
every
idle
,
nice
,
and
wanton
reason
,
Shall
to
the
King
taste
of
this
action
,
That
,
were
our
royal
faiths
martyrs
in
love
,
We
shall
be
winnowed
with
so
rough
a
wind
That
even
our
corn
shall
seem
as
light
as
chaff
,
And
good
from
bad
find
no
partition
.
No
,
no
,
my
lord
.
Note
this
:
the
King
is
weary
Of
dainty
and
such
picking
grievances
,
For
he
hath
found
to
end
one
doubt
by
death
Revives
two
greater
in
the
heirs
of
life
;
And
therefore
will
he
wipe
his
tables
clean
And
keep
no
telltale
to
his
memory
That
may
repeat
and
history
his
loss
To
new
remembrance
.
For
full
well
he
knows
He
cannot
so
precisely
weed
this
land
As
his
misdoubts
present
occasion
;
His
foes
are
so
enrooted
with
his
friends
That
,
plucking
to
unfix
an
enemy
,
He
doth
unfasten
so
and
shake
a
friend
;
So
that
this
land
,
like
an
offensive
wife
That
hath
enraged
him
on
to
offer
strokes
,
As
he
is
striking
holds
his
infant
up
And
hangs
resolved
correction
in
the
arm
That
was
upreared
to
execution
.
Besides
,
the
King
hath
wasted
all
his
rods
On
late
offenders
,
that
he
now
doth
lack
The
very
instruments
of
chastisement
,
So
that
his
power
,
like
to
a
fangless
lion
,
May
offer
but
not
hold
.
’Tis
very
true
,
And
therefore
be
assured
,
my
good
Lord
Marshal
,
If
we
do
now
make
our
atonement
well
,
Our
peace
will
,
like
a
broken
limb
united
,
Grow
stronger
for
the
breaking
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Be
it
so
.
Here
is
returned
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
Enter
Westmoreland
.
,
to
the
Archbishop
The
Prince
is
here
at
hand
.
Pleaseth
your
Lordship
To
meet
his
Grace
just
distance
’tween
our
armies
.
Enter
Prince
John
and
his
army
.
,
to
the
Archbishop
Your
Grace
of
York
,
in
God’s
name
then
set
forward
.
Before
,
and
greet
his
Grace
.
—
My
lord
,
we
come
.
All
move
forward
.
You
are
well
encountered
here
,
my
cousin
Mowbray
.
—
Good
day
to
you
,
gentle
Lord
Archbishop
,
—
And
so
to
you
,
Lord
Hastings
,
and
to
all
.
—
My
Lord
of
York
,
it
better
showed
with
you
When
that
your
flock
,
assembled
by
the
bell
,
Encircled
you
to
hear
with
reverence
Your
exposition
on
the
holy
text
Than
now
to
see
you
here
,
an
iron
man
talking
,
Cheering
a
rout
of
rebels
with
your
drum
,
Turning
the
word
to
sword
,
and
life
to
death
.
That
man
that
sits
within
a
monarch’s
heart
And
ripens
in
the
sunshine
of
his
favor
,
Would
he
abuse
the
countenance
of
the
King
,
Alack
,
what
mischiefs
might
he
set
abroach
In
shadow
of
such
greatness
!
With
you
,
Lord
Bishop
,
It
is
even
so
.
Who
hath
not
heard
it
spoken
How
deep
you
were
within
the
books
of
God
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
To
us
the
speaker
in
His
parliament
,
To
us
th’
imagined
voice
of
God
Himself
,
The
very
opener
and
intelligencer
Between
the
grace
,
the
sanctities
,
of
heaven
,
And
our
dull
workings
?
O
,
who
shall
believe
But
you
misuse
the
reverence
of
your
place
,
Employ
the
countenance
and
grace
of
heaven
As
a
false
favorite
doth
his
prince’s
name
,
In
deeds
dishonorable
?
You
have
ta’en
up
,
Under
the
counterfeited
zeal
of
God
,
The
subjects
of
His
substitute
,
my
father
,
And
both
against
the
peace
of
heaven
and
him
Have
here
up-swarmed
them
.
Good
my
Lord
of
Lancaster
,
I
am
not
here
against
your
father’s
peace
,
But
,
as
I
told
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
,
The
time
misordered
doth
,
in
common
sense
,
Crowd
us
and
crush
us
to
this
monstrous
form
To
hold
our
safety
up
.
I
sent
your
Grace
The
parcels
and
particulars
of
our
grief
,
The
which
hath
been
with
scorn
shoved
from
the
court
,
Whereon
this
Hydra
son
of
war
is
born
,
Whose
dangerous
eyes
may
well
be
charmed
asleep
With
grant
of
our
most
just
and
right
desires
,
And
true
obedience
,
of
this
madness
cured
,
Stoop
tamely
to
the
foot
of
majesty
.
If
not
,
we
ready
are
to
try
our
fortunes
To
the
last
man
.
And
though
we
here
fall
down
,
We
have
supplies
to
second
our
attempt
;
If
they
miscarry
,
theirs
shall
second
them
,
And
so
success
of
mischief
shall
be
born
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
And
heir
from
heir
shall
hold
his
quarrel
up
Whiles
England
shall
have
generation
.
You
are
too
shallow
,
Hastings
,
much
too
shallow
To
sound
the
bottom
of
the
after-times
.
Pleaseth
your
Grace
to
answer
them
directly
How
far
forth
you
do
like
their
articles
.
I
like
them
all
,
and
do
allow
them
well
,
And
swear
here
by
the
honor
of
my
blood
My
father’s
purposes
have
been
mistook
,
And
some
about
him
have
too
lavishly
Wrested
his
meaning
and
authority
.
To
the
Archbishop
.
My
lord
,
these
griefs
shall
be
with
speed
redressed
;
Upon
my
soul
,
they
shall
.
If
this
may
please
you
,
Discharge
your
powers
unto
their
several
counties
,
As
we
will
ours
,
and
here
,
between
the
armies
,
Let’s
drink
together
friendly
and
embrace
,
That
all
their
eyes
may
bear
those
tokens
home
Of
our
restorèd
love
and
amity
.
I
take
your
princely
word
for
these
redresses
.
I
give
it
you
,
and
will
maintain
my
word
,
And
thereupon
I
drink
unto
your
Grace
.
The
Leaders
of
both
armies
begin
to
drink
together
.
,
to
an
Officer
Go
,
captain
,
and
deliver
to
the
army
This
news
of
peace
.
Let
them
have
pay
,
and
part
.
I
know
it
will
well
please
them
.
Hie
thee
,
captain
.
Officer
exits
.
,
toasting
Westmoreland
To
you
,
my
noble
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
,
returning
the
toast
ACT 4. SC. 1
I
pledge
your
Grace
,
and
if
you
knew
what
pains
I
have
bestowed
to
breed
this
present
peace
,
You
would
drink
freely
.
But
my
love
to
you
Shall
show
itself
more
openly
hereafter
.
I
do
not
doubt
you
.
I
am
glad
of
it
.
—
Health
to
my
lord
and
gentle
cousin
,
Mowbray
.
You
wish
me
health
in
very
happy
season
,
For
I
am
on
the
sudden
something
ill
.
Against
ill
chances
men
are
ever
merry
,
But
heaviness
foreruns
the
good
event
.
Therefore
be
merry
,
coz
,
since
sudden
sorrow
Serves
to
say
thus
:
Some
good
thing
comes
tomorrow
.
Believe
me
,
I
am
passing
light
in
spirit
.
So
much
the
worse
if
your
own
rule
be
true
.
Shout
within
.
The
word
of
peace
is
rendered
.
Hark
how
they
shout
.
This
had
been
cheerful
after
victory
.
A
peace
is
of
the
nature
of
a
conquest
,
For
then
both
parties
nobly
are
subdued
,
And
neither
party
loser
.
,
to
Westmoreland
Go
,
my
lord
,
And
let
our
army
be
dischargèd
too
.
Westmoreland
exits
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
To
the
Archbishop
.
And
,
good
my
lord
,
so
please
you
,
let
our
trains
March
by
us
,
that
we
may
peruse
the
men
We
should
have
coped
withal
.
Go
,
good
Lord
Hastings
,
And
ere
they
be
dismissed
,
let
them
march
by
.
Hastings
exits
.
I
trust
,
lords
,
we
shall
lie
tonight
together
.
Enter
Westmoreland
.
Now
,
cousin
,
wherefore
stands
our
army
still
?
The
leaders
,
having
charge
from
you
to
stand
,
Will
not
go
off
until
they
hear
you
speak
.
They
know
their
duties
.
Enter
Hastings
.
,
to
the
Archbishop
My
lord
,
our
army
is
dispersed
already
.
Like
youthful
steers
unyoked
,
they
take
their
courses
East
,
west
,
north
,
south
,
or
,
like
a
school
broke
up
,
Each
hurries
toward
his
home
and
sporting-place
.
Good
tidings
,
my
Lord
Hastings
,
for
the
which
I
do
arrest
thee
,
traitor
,
of
high
treason
.
—
And
you
,
Lord
Archbishop
,
and
you
,
Lord
Mowbray
,
Of
capital
treason
I
attach
you
both
.
Is
this
proceeding
just
and
honorable
?
Is
your
assembly
so
?
Will
you
thus
break
your
faith
?
ACT 4. SC. 2
I
pawned
thee
none
.
I
promised
you
redress
of
these
same
grievances
Whereof
you
did
complain
,
which
,
by
mine
honor
,
I
will
perform
with
a
most
Christian
care
.
But
for
you
rebels
,
look
to
taste
the
due
Meet
for
rebellion
and
such
acts
as
yours
.
Most
shallowly
did
you
these
arms
commence
,
Fondly
brought
here
,
and
foolishly
sent
hence
.
—
Strike
up
our
drums
;
pursue
the
scattered
stray
.
God
,
and
not
we
,
hath
safely
fought
today
.
—
Some
guard
these
traitors
to
the
block
of
death
,
Treason’s
true
bed
and
yielder-up
of
breath
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Alarum
.
Excursions
.
Enter
Falstaff
and
Colevile
.
What’s
your
name
,
sir
?
Of
what
condition
are
you
,
and
of
what
place
,
I
pray
?
I
am
a
knight
,
sir
,
and
my
name
is
Colevile
of
the
Dale
.
Well
then
,
Colevile
is
your
name
,
a
knight
is
your
degree
,
and
your
place
the
Dale
.
Colevile
shall
be
still
your
name
,
a
traitor
your
degree
,
and
the
dungeon
your
place
,
a
place
deep
enough
so
shall
you
be
still
Colevile
of
the
Dale
.
Are
not
you
Sir
John
Falstaff
?
As
good
a
man
as
he
,
sir
,
whoe’er
I
am
.
Do
you
yield
,
sir
,
or
shall
I
sweat
for
you
?
If
I
do
sweat
,
they
are
the
drops
of
thy
lovers
and
they
weep
for
thy
death
.
Therefore
rouse
up
fear
and
trembling
,
and
do
observance
to
my
mercy
.
I
think
you
are
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
and
in
that
thought
yield
me
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
I
have
a
whole
school
of
tongues
in
this
belly
of
mine
,
and
not
a
tongue
of
them
all
speaks
any
other
word
but
my
name
.
An
I
had
but
a
belly
of
any
indifferency
,
I
were
simply
the
most
active
fellow
in
Europe
.
My
womb
,
my
womb
,
my
womb
undoes
me
.
Here
comes
our
general
.
Enter
John
,
Westmoreland
,
and
the
rest
.
The
heat
is
past
.
Follow
no
further
now
.
Call
in
the
powers
,
good
cousin
Westmoreland
.
Westmoreland
exits
.
Retreat
is
sounded
.
Now
,
Falstaff
,
where
have
you
been
all
this
while
?
When
everything
is
ended
,
then
you
come
.
These
tardy
tricks
of
yours
will
,
on
my
life
,
One
time
or
other
break
some
gallows’
back
.
I
would
be
sorry
,
my
lord
,
but
it
should
be
thus
.
I
never
knew
yet
but
rebuke
and
check
was
the
reward
of
valor
.
Do
you
think
me
a
swallow
,
an
arrow
,
or
a
bullet
?
Have
I
in
my
poor
and
old
motion
the
expedition
of
thought
?
I
have
speeded
hither
with
the
very
extremest
inch
of
possibility
.
I
have
foundered
ninescore
and
odd
posts
,
and
here
,
travel-tainted
as
I
am
,
have
in
my
pure
and
immaculate
valor
taken
Sir
John
Colevile
of
the
Dale
,
a
most
furious
knight
and
valorous
enemy
.
But
what
of
that
?
He
saw
me
and
yielded
,
that
I
may
justly
say
,
with
the
hook-nosed
fellow
of
Rome
,
There
,
cousin
,
I
came
,
saw
,
and
overcame
.
It
was
more
of
his
courtesy
than
your
deserving
.
I
know
not
.
Here
he
is
,
and
here
I
yield
him
.
And
I
beseech
your
Grace
let
it
be
booked
with
the
rest
of
this
day’s
deeds
,
or
,
by
the
Lord
,
I
will
have
it
in
a
particular
ballad
else
,
with
mine
own
picture
on
the
top
on
’t
,
Colevile
kissing
my
foot
;
to
the
ACT 4. SC. 2
which
course
if
I
be
enforced
,
if
you
do
not
all
show
like
gilt
twopences
to
me
,
and
I
in
the
clear
sky
of
fame
o’ershine
you
as
much
as
the
full
moon
doth
the
cinders
of
the
element
(
which
show
like
pins’
heads
to
her
)
,
believe
not
the
word
of
the
noble
.
Therefore
let
me
have
right
,
and
let
desert
mount
.
Thine’s
too
heavy
to
mount
.
Let
it
shine
,
then
.
Thine’s
too
thick
to
shine
.
Let
it
do
something
,
my
good
lord
,
that
may
do
me
good
,
and
call
it
what
you
will
.
Is
thy
name
Colevile
?
It
is
,
my
lord
.
A
famous
rebel
art
thou
,
Colevile
.
And
a
famous
true
subject
took
him
.
I
am
,
my
lord
,
but
as
my
betters
are
That
led
me
hither
.
Had
they
been
ruled
by
me
,
You
should
have
won
them
dearer
than
you
have
.
I
know
not
how
they
sold
themselves
,
but
thou
,
like
a
kind
fellow
,
gavest
thyself
away
gratis
,
and
I
thank
thee
for
thee
.
Enter
Westmoreland
.
Now
,
have
you
left
pursuit
?
Retreat
is
made
and
execution
stayed
.
Send
Colevile
with
his
confederates
To
York
,
to
present
execution
.
—
Blunt
,
lead
him
hence
,
and
see
you
guard
him
sure
.
Blunt
exits
with
Colevile
.
And
now
dispatch
we
toward
the
court
,
my
lords
.
I
hear
the
King
my
father
is
sore
sick
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
Our
news
shall
go
before
us
to
his
Majesty
,
To
Westmoreland
.
Which
,
cousin
,
you
shall
bear
to
comfort
him
,
And
we
with
sober
speed
will
follow
you
.
My
lord
,
I
beseech
you
give
me
leave
to
go
through
Gloucestershire
,
and
,
when
you
come
to
court
,
stand
my
good
lord
,
pray
,
in
your
good
report
.
Fare
you
well
,
Falstaff
.
I
,
in
my
condition
,
Shall
better
speak
of
you
than
you
deserve
.
All
but
Falstaff
exit
.
I
would
you
had
but
the
wit
;
’twere
better
than
your
dukedom
.
Good
faith
,
this
same
young
sober-blooded
boy
doth
not
love
me
,
nor
a
man
cannot
make
him
laugh
.
But
that’s
no
marvel
;
he
drinks
no
wine
.
There’s
never
none
of
these
demure
boys
come
to
any
proof
,
for
thin
drink
doth
so
overcool
their
blood
,
and
making
many
fish
meals
,
that
they
fall
into
a
kind
of
male
green-sickness
,
and
then
,
when
they
marry
,
they
get
wenches
.
They
are
generally
fools
and
cowards
,
which
some
of
us
should
be
too
,
but
for
inflammation
.
A
good
sherris
sack
hath
a
two-fold
operation
in
it
.
It
ascends
me
into
the
brain
,
dries
me
there
all
the
foolish
and
dull
and
crudy
vapors
which
environ
it
,
makes
it
apprehensive
,
quick
,
forgetive
,
full
of
nimble
,
fiery
,
and
delectable
shapes
,
which
,
delivered
o’er
to
the
voice
,
the
tongue
,
which
is
the
birth
,
becomes
excellent
wit
.
The
second
property
of
your
excellent
sherris
is
the
warming
of
the
blood
,
which
,
before
cold
and
settled
,
left
the
liver
white
and
pale
,
which
is
the
badge
of
pusillanimity
and
cowardice
.
But
the
sherris
warms
it
and
makes
it
course
from
the
inwards
to
the
parts’
extremes
.
It
illumineth
the
ACT 4. SC. 2
face
,
which
as
a
beacon
gives
warning
to
all
the
rest
of
this
little
kingdom
,
man
,
to
arm
;
and
then
the
vital
commoners
and
inland
petty
spirits
muster
me
all
to
their
captain
,
the
heart
,
who
,
great
and
puffed
up
with
this
retinue
,
doth
any
deed
of
courage
,
and
this
valor
comes
of
sherris
.
So
that
skill
in
the
weapon
is
nothing
without
sack
,
for
that
sets
it
a-work
;
and
learning
a
mere
hoard
of
gold
kept
by
a
devil
till
sack
commences
it
and
sets
it
in
act
and
use
.
Hereof
comes
it
that
Prince
Harry
is
valiant
,
for
the
cold
blood
he
did
naturally
inherit
of
his
father
he
hath
,
like
lean
,
sterile
,
and
bare
land
,
manured
,
husbanded
,
and
tilled
with
excellent
endeavor
of
drinking
good
and
good
store
of
fertile
sherris
,
that
he
is
become
very
hot
and
valiant
.
If
I
had
a
thousand
sons
,
the
first
human
principle
I
would
teach
them
should
be
to
forswear
thin
potations
and
to
addict
themselves
to
sack
.
Enter
Bardolph
.
How
now
,
Bardolph
?
The
army
is
discharged
all
and
gone
.
Let
them
go
.
I’ll
through
Gloucestershire
,
and
there
will
I
visit
Master
Robert
Shallow
,
Esquire
.
I
have
him
already
temp’ring
between
my
finger
and
my
thumb
,
and
shortly
will
I
seal
with
him
.
Come
away
.
They
exit
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Scene
3
Enter
the
King
in
a
chair
,
Warwick
,
Thomas
Duke
of
Clarence
,
Humphrey
Duke
of
Gloucester
,
and
Attendants
.
Now
,
lords
,
if
God
doth
give
successful
end
To
this
debate
that
bleedeth
at
our
doors
,
We
will
our
youth
lead
on
to
higher
fields
And
draw
no
swords
but
what
are
sanctified
.
Our
navy
is
addressed
,
our
power
collected
,
Our
substitutes
in
absence
well
invested
,
And
everything
lies
level
to
our
wish
.
Only
we
want
a
little
personal
strength
;
And
pause
us
till
these
rebels
now
afoot
Come
underneath
the
yoke
of
government
.
Both
which
we
doubt
not
but
your
Majesty
Shall
soon
enjoy
.
Humphrey
,
my
son
of
Gloucester
,
where
is
the
Prince
your
brother
?
I
think
he’s
gone
to
hunt
,
my
lord
,
at
Windsor
.
And
how
accompanied
?
I
do
not
know
,
my
lord
.
Is
not
his
brother
Thomas
of
Clarence
with
him
?
No
,
my
good
lord
,
he
is
in
presence
here
.
,
coming
forward
What
would
my
lord
and
father
?
Nothing
but
well
to
thee
,
Thomas
of
Clarence
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
How
chance
thou
art
not
with
the
Prince
thy
brother
?
He
loves
thee
,
and
thou
dost
neglect
him
,
Thomas
.
Thou
hast
a
better
place
in
his
affection
Than
all
thy
brothers
.
Cherish
it
,
my
boy
,
And
noble
offices
thou
mayst
effect
Of
mediation
,
after
I
am
dead
,
Between
his
greatness
and
thy
other
brethren
.
Therefore
omit
him
not
,
blunt
not
his
love
,
Nor
lose
the
good
advantage
of
his
grace
By
seeming
cold
or
careless
of
his
will
.
For
he
is
gracious
if
he
be
observed
;
He
hath
a
tear
for
pity
,
and
a
hand
Open
as
day
for
melting
charity
;
Yet
notwithstanding
,
being
incensed
he
is
flint
,
As
humorous
as
winter
,
and
as
sudden
As
flaws
congealèd
in
the
spring
of
day
.
His
temper
therefore
must
be
well
observed
.
Chide
him
for
faults
,
and
do
it
reverently
,
When
you
perceive
his
blood
inclined
to
mirth
;
But
,
being
moody
,
give
him
time
and
scope
Till
that
his
passions
,
like
a
whale
on
ground
,
Confound
themselves
with
working
.
Learn
this
,
Thomas
,
And
thou
shalt
prove
a
shelter
to
thy
friends
,
A
hoop
of
gold
to
bind
thy
brothers
in
,
That
the
united
vessel
of
their
blood
,
Mingled
with
venom
of
suggestion
(
As
,
force
perforce
,
the
age
will
pour
it
in
)
,
Shall
never
leak
,
though
it
do
work
as
strong
As
aconitum
or
rash
gunpowder
.
I
shall
observe
him
with
all
care
and
love
.
Why
art
thou
not
at
Windsor
with
him
,
Thomas
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
He
is
not
there
today
;
he
dines
in
London
.
And
how
accompanied
?
Canst
thou
tell
that
?
With
Poins
and
other
his
continual
followers
.
Most
subject
is
the
fattest
soil
to
weeds
,
And
he
,
the
noble
image
of
my
youth
,
Is
overspread
with
them
;
therefore
my
grief
Stretches
itself
beyond
the
hour
of
death
.
The
blood
weeps
from
my
heart
when
I
do
shape
,
In
forms
imaginary
,
th’
unguided
days
And
rotten
times
that
you
shall
look
upon
When
I
am
sleeping
with
my
ancestors
.
For
when
his
headstrong
riot
hath
no
curb
,
When
rage
and
hot
blood
are
his
counsellors
,
When
means
and
lavish
manners
meet
together
,
O
,
with
what
wings
shall
his
affections
fly
Towards
fronting
peril
and
opposed
decay
!
My
gracious
lord
,
you
look
beyond
him
quite
.
The
Prince
but
studies
his
companions
Like
a
strange
tongue
,
wherein
,
to
gain
the
language
,
’Tis
needful
that
the
most
immodest
word
Be
looked
upon
and
learned
;
which
,
once
attained
,
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
others
,
Turning
past
evils
to
advantages
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
’Tis
seldom
when
the
bee
doth
leave
her
comb
In
the
dead
carrion
.
Enter
Westmoreland
.
Who’s
here
?
Westmoreland
?
Health
to
my
sovereign
,
and
new
happiness
Added
to
that
that
I
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
unsheathed
,
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
.
He
gives
the
King
a
paper
.
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
.
From
enemies
heavens
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
.
He
gives
the
King
papers
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
.
Comfort
,
your
Majesty
.
O
,
my
royal
father
!
My
sovereign
lord
,
cheer
up
yourself
,
look
up
.
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
.
No
,
no
,
he
cannot
long
hold
out
these
pangs
.
Th’
incessant
care
and
labor
of
his
mind
Hath
wrought
the
mure
that
should
confine
it
in
So
thin
that
life
looks
through
and
will
break
out
.
The
people
fear
me
,
for
they
do
observe
Unfathered
heirs
and
loathly
births
of
nature
.
The
seasons
change
their
manners
,
as
the
year
Had
found
some
months
asleep
and
leapt
them
over
.
The
river
hath
thrice
flowed
,
no
ebb
between
,
And
the
old
folk
,
time’s
doting
chronicles
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Say
it
did
so
a
little
time
before
That
our
great-grandsire
,
Edward
,
sicked
and
died
.
Speak
lower
,
princes
,
for
the
King
recovers
.
This
apoplexy
will
certain
be
his
end
.
I
pray
you
take
me
up
and
bear
me
hence
Into
some
other
chamber
.
Softly
,
pray
.
The
King
is
carried
to
a
bed
on
another
part
of
the
stage
.
Let
there
be
no
noise
made
,
my
gentle
friends
,
Unless
some
dull
and
favorable
hand
Will
whisper
music
to
my
weary
spirit
.
,
to
an
Attendant
Call
for
the
music
in
the
other
room
.
Set
me
the
crown
upon
my
pillow
here
.
The
crown
is
placed
on
the
bed
.
,
aside
to
the
others
His
eye
is
hollow
,
and
he
changes
much
.
Less
noise
,
less
noise
.
Enter
Prince
Harry
.
Who
saw
the
Duke
of
Clarence
?
,
weeping
I
am
here
,
brother
,
full
of
heaviness
.
How
now
,
rain
within
doors
,
and
none
abroad
?
How
doth
the
King
?
Exceeding
ill
.
Heard
he
the
good
news
yet
?
Tell
it
him
.
He
altered
much
upon
the
hearing
it
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
If
he
be
sick
with
joy
,
he’ll
recover
without
physic
.
Not
so
much
noise
,
my
lords
.
—
Sweet
prince
,
speak
low
.
The
King
your
father
is
disposed
to
sleep
.
Let
us
withdraw
into
the
other
room
.
Will
’t
please
your
Grace
to
go
along
with
us
?
No
,
I
will
sit
and
watch
here
by
the
King
.
All
but
Prince
and
King
exit
.
Why
doth
the
crown
lie
there
upon
his
pillow
,
Being
so
troublesome
a
bedfellow
?
O
polished
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
armor
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
divorced
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
.
He
puts
on
the
crown
.
Lo
,
where
it
sits
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Which
God
shall
guard
.
And
,
put
the
world’s
whole
strength
Into
one
giant
arm
,
it
shall
not
force
This
lineal
honor
from
me
.
This
from
thee
Will
I
to
mine
leave
,
as
’tis
left
to
me
.
He
exits
with
the
crown
.
,
rising
up
in
his
bed
Warwick
!
Gloucester
!
Clarence
!
Enter
Warwick
,
Gloucester
,
Clarence
,
and
others
.
Doth
the
King
call
?
What
would
your
Majesty
?
How
fares
your
Grace
?
Why
did
you
leave
me
here
alone
,
my
lords
?
We
left
the
Prince
my
brother
here
,
my
liege
,
Who
undertook
to
sit
and
watch
by
you
.
The
Prince
of
Wales
?
Where
is
he
?
Let
me
see
him
.
He
is
not
here
.
This
door
is
open
.
He
is
gone
this
way
.
He
came
not
through
the
chamber
where
we
stayed
.
Where
is
the
crown
?
Who
took
it
from
my
pillow
?
When
we
withdrew
,
my
liege
,
we
left
it
here
.
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
.
Warwick
exits
.
This
part
of
his
conjoins
with
my
disease
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
overcareful
fathers
Have
broke
their
sleep
with
thoughts
,
Their
brains
with
care
,
their
bones
with
industry
.
For
this
they
have
engrossèd
and
piled
up
The
cankered
heaps
of
strange-achievèd
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
packed
with
wax
,
our
mouths
with
honey
,
We
bring
it
to
the
hive
and
,
like
the
bees
,
Are
murdered
for
our
pains
.
This
bitter
taste
Yields
his
engrossments
to
the
ending
father
.
Enter
Warwick
.
Now
where
is
he
that
will
not
stay
so
long
Till
his
friend
sickness
hath
determined
me
?
My
lord
,
I
found
the
Prince
in
the
next
room
,
Washing
with
kindly
tears
his
gentle
cheeks
,
With
such
a
deep
demeanor
in
great
sorrow
That
tyranny
,
which
never
quaffed
but
blood
,
Would
,
by
beholding
him
,
have
washed
his
knife
With
gentle
eyedrops
.
He
is
coming
hither
.
But
wherefore
did
he
take
away
the
crown
?
Enter
Prince
Harry
with
the
crown
.
Lo
where
he
comes
.
—
Come
hither
to
me
,
Harry
.
—
Depart
the
chamber
.
Leave
us
here
alone
.
Gloucester
,
Clarence
,
Warwick
,
and
others
exit
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
I
never
thought
to
hear
you
speak
again
.
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
honors
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
sealed
up
my
expectation
.
Thy
life
did
manifest
thou
loved’st
me
not
,
And
thou
wilt
have
me
die
assured
of
it
.
Thou
hid’st
a
thousand
daggers
in
thy
thoughts
,
Whom
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
crownèd
,
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
crowned
.
Up
,
vanity
,
Down
,
royal
state
,
all
you
sage
councillors
,
hence
,
And
to
the
English
court
assemble
now
,
From
every
region
,
apes
of
idleness
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Now
,
neighbor
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
,
honor
,
might
,
For
the
fifth
Harry
from
curbed
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
.
,
placing
the
crown
on
the
pillow
O
pardon
me
,
my
liege
!
But
for
my
tears
,
The
moist
impediments
unto
my
speech
,
I
had
forestalled
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
.
He
kneels
.
If
I
affect
it
more
Than
as
your
honor
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
purposèd
.
Coming
to
look
on
you
,
thinking
you
dead
,
And
dead
almost
,
my
liege
,
to
think
you
were
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
honored
,
most
renowned
,
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
murdered
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
forever
keep
it
from
my
head
And
make
me
as
the
poorest
vassal
is
That
doth
with
awe
and
terror
kneel
to
it
.
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
.
The
Prince
rises
from
his
knees
and
sits
near
the
bed
.
God
knows
,
my
son
,
By
what
bypaths
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
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
For
all
the
soil
of
the
achievement
goes
With
me
into
the
earth
.
It
seemed
in
me
But
as
an
honor
snatched
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
supposèd
peace
.
All
these
bold
fears
Thou
seest
with
peril
I
have
answerèd
,
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
purchased
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
advanced
And
by
whose
power
I
well
might
lodge
a
fear
To
be
again
displaced
;
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
.
My
gracious
liege
,
You
won
it
,
wore
it
,
kept
it
,
gave
it
me
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
John
of
Lancaster
and
others
.
Look
,
look
,
here
comes
my
John
of
Lancaster
.
Health
,
peace
,
and
happiness
to
my
royal
father
.
Thou
bring’st
me
happiness
and
peace
,
son
John
,
But
health
,
alack
,
with
youthful
wings
is
flown
From
this
bare
withered
trunk
.
Upon
thy
sight
My
worldly
business
makes
a
period
.
Where
is
my
Lord
of
Warwick
?
My
Lord
of
Warwick
.
Enter
Warwick
.
Doth
any
name
particular
belong
Unto
the
lodging
where
I
first
did
swoon
?
’Tis
called
Jerusalem
,
my
noble
lord
.
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
supposed
the
Holy
Land
.
But
bear
me
to
that
chamber
;
there
I’ll
lie
.
In
that
Jerusalem
shall
Harry
die
.
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
Shallow
,
Falstaff
,
Page
,
and
Bardolph
.
By
cock
and
pie
,
sir
,
you
shall
not
away
tonight
.
—
What
,
Davy
,
I
say
!
You
must
excuse
me
,
Master
Robert
Shallow
.
I
will
not
excuse
you
.
You
shall
not
be
excused
.
Excuses
shall
not
be
admitted
.
There
is
no
excuse
shall
serve
.
You
shall
not
be
excused
.
—
Why
,
Davy
!
Enter
Davy
.
Here
,
sir
.
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
excused
.
Marry
,
sir
,
thus
:
those
precepts
cannot
be
served
.
And
again
,
sir
:
shall
we
sow
the
hade
land
with
wheat
?
With
red
wheat
,
Davy
.
But
for
William
cook
,
are
there
no
young
pigeons
?
Yes
,
sir
.
Here
is
now
the
smith’s
note
for
shoeing
and
plow
irons
.
He
gives
Shallow
a
paper
.
Let
it
be
cast
and
paid
.
—
Sir
John
,
you
shall
not
be
excused
.
Now
,
sir
,
a
new
link
to
the
bucket
must
needs
be
ACT 5. SC. 1
had
.
And
,
sir
,
do
you
mean
to
stop
any
of
William’s
wages
about
the
sack
he
lost
the
other
day
at
Hinckley
Fair
?
He
shall
answer
it
.
Some
pigeons
,
Davy
,
a
couple
of
short-legged
hens
,
a
joint
of
mutton
,
and
any
pretty
little
tiny
kickshaws
,
tell
William
cook
.
Shallow
and
Davy
walk
aside
.
Doth
the
man
of
war
stay
all
night
,
sir
?
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
.
No
worse
than
they
are
back-bitten
,
sir
,
for
they
have
marvelous
foul
linen
.
Well-conceited
,
Davy
.
About
thy
business
,
Davy
.
I
beseech
you
,
sir
,
to
countenance
William
Visor
of
Woncot
against
Clement
Perkes
o’
th’
hill
.
There
is
many
complaints
,
Davy
,
against
that
Visor
.
That
Visor
is
an
arrant
knave
,
on
my
knowledge
.
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
served
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
countenanced
.
Go
to
,
I
say
,
he
shall
have
no
wrong
.
Look
about
,
Davy
.
Davy
exits
.
Where
are
you
,
Sir
John
?
Come
,
come
,
come
,
off
with
your
boots
.
—
Give
me
your
hand
,
Master
Bardolph
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
I
am
glad
to
see
your
Worship
.
I
thank
thee
with
all
my
heart
,
kind
Master
Bardolph
,
(
to
Page
)
and
welcome
,
my
tall
fellow
.
—
Come
,
Sir
John
.
I’ll
follow
you
,
good
Master
Robert
Shallow
.
Shallow
exits
.
Bardolph
,
look
to
our
horses
.
Bardolph
and
Page
exit
.
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
servingman
.
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
humor
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
he
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
.
,
within
Sir
John
.
I
come
,
Master
Shallow
,
I
come
,
Master
Shallow
.
He
exits
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Warwick
and
Lord
Chief
Justice
.
How
now
,
my
Lord
Chief
Justice
,
whither
away
?
How
doth
the
King
?
Exceeding
well
.
His
cares
are
now
all
ended
.
I
hope
,
not
dead
.
He’s
walked
the
way
of
nature
,
And
to
our
purposes
he
lives
no
more
.
I
would
his
Majesty
had
called
me
with
him
.
The
service
that
I
truly
did
his
life
Hath
left
me
open
to
all
injuries
.
Indeed
,
I
think
the
young
king
loves
you
not
.
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
John
,
Thomas
,
and
Humphrey
.
Here
come
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
!
O
God
,
I
fear
all
will
be
overturned
.
Good
morrow
,
cousin
Warwick
,
good
morrow
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
Good
morrow
,
cousin
.
We
meet
like
men
that
had
forgot
to
speak
.
We
do
remember
,
but
our
argument
Is
all
too
heavy
to
admit
much
talk
.
Well
,
peace
be
with
him
that
hath
made
us
heavy
.
Peace
be
with
us
,
lest
we
be
heavier
.
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
.
,
to
the
Chief
Justice
Though
no
man
be
assured
what
grace
to
find
,
You
stand
in
coldest
expectation
.
I
am
the
sorrier
;
would
’twere
otherwise
.
Well
,
you
must
now
speak
Sir
John
Falstaff
fair
,
Which
swims
against
your
stream
of
quality
.
Sweet
princes
,
what
I
did
I
did
in
honor
,
Led
by
th’
impartial
conduct
of
my
soul
;
And
never
shall
you
see
that
I
will
beg
A
ragged
and
forestalled
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
.
Enter
the
Prince
,
as
Henry
V
,
and
Blunt
.
Here
comes
the
Prince
.
Good
morrow
,
and
God
save
your
Majesty
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
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
assured
,
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
.
We
hope
no
otherwise
from
your
Majesty
.
You
all
look
strangely
on
me
.
To
the
Chief
Justice
.
And
you
most
.
You
are
,
I
think
,
assured
I
love
you
not
.
I
am
assured
,
if
I
be
measured
rightly
,
Your
Majesty
hath
no
just
cause
to
hate
me
.
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
washed
in
Lethe
and
forgotten
?
I
then
did
use
the
person
of
your
father
;
ACT 5. SC. 2
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
pleasèd
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
profaned
,
See
your
most
dreadful
laws
so
loosely
slighted
,
Behold
yourself
so
by
a
son
disdained
,
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
.
You
are
right
,
justice
,
and
you
weigh
this
well
.
Therefore
still
bear
the
balance
and
the
sword
.
And
I
do
wish
your
honors
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
:
ACT 5. SC. 2
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’
unstainèd
sword
that
you
have
used
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
.
They
clasp
hands
.
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-practiced
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
flowed
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-governed
nation
;
That
war
,
or
peace
,
or
both
at
once
,
may
be
As
things
acquainted
and
familiar
to
us
,
To
the
Chief
Justice
.
In
which
you
,
father
,
shall
have
foremost
hand
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Our
coronation
done
,
we
will
accite
,
As
I
before
remembered
,
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
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Sir
John
Falstaff
,
Shallow
,
Silence
,
Davy
,
Bardolph
,
and
Page
.
Nay
,
you
shall
see
my
orchard
,
where
,
in
an
arbor
,
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
.
Fore
God
,
you
have
here
a
goodly
dwelling
,
and
a
rich
.
Barren
,
barren
,
barren
,
beggars
all
,
beggars
all
,
Sir
John
.
Marry
,
good
air
.
—
Spread
,
Davy
,
spread
,
Davy
.
Well
said
,
Davy
.
This
Davy
serves
you
for
good
uses
.
He
is
your
servingman
and
your
husband
.
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
.
Ah
,
sirrah
,
quoth
he
,
we
shall
Sings
.
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
.
There’s
a
merry
heart
!
—
Good
Master
Silence
,
I’ll
give
you
a
health
for
that
anon
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Give
Master
Bardolph
some
wine
,
Davy
.
,
to
the
guests
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
.
He
exits
.
Be
merry
,
Master
Bardolph
.
—
And
,
my
little
soldier
there
,
be
merry
.
sings
Be
merry
,
be
merry
,
my
wife
has
all
,
For
women
are
shrews
,
both
short
and
tall
.
’Tis
merry
in
hall
when
beards
wags
all
,
And
welcome
merry
Shrovetide
.
Be
merry
,
be
merry
.
I
did
not
think
Master
Silence
had
been
a
man
of
this
mettle
.
Who
,
I
?
I
have
been
merry
twice
and
once
ere
now
.
Enter
Davy
.
,
to
the
guests
There’s
a
dish
of
leather-coats
for
you
.
Davy
!
Your
Worship
,
I’ll
be
with
you
straight
.
—
A
cup
of
wine
,
sir
.
sings
A
cup
of
wine
that’s
brisk
and
fine
,
And
drink
unto
thee
,
leman
mine
,
And
a
merry
heart
lives
long-a
.
Well
said
,
Master
Silence
.
And
we
shall
be
merry
;
now
comes
in
the
sweet
o’
th’
night
.
Health
and
long
life
to
you
,
Master
Silence
.
sings
Fill
the
cup
,
and
let
it
come
,
I’ll
pledge
you
a
mile
to
th’
bottom
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
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
.
I
hope
to
see
London
once
ere
I
die
.
An
I
might
see
you
there
,
Davy
!
By
the
Mass
,
you’ll
crack
a
quart
together
,
ha
,
will
you
not
,
Master
Bardolph
?
Yea
,
sir
,
in
a
pottle-pot
.
By
God’s
liggens
,
I
thank
thee
.
The
knave
will
stick
by
thee
,
I
can
assure
thee
that
.
He
will
not
out
,
he
.
’Tis
true
bred
!
And
I’ll
stick
by
him
,
sir
.
Why
,
there
spoke
a
king
.
Lack
nothing
,
be
merry
.
(
One
knocks
at
door
.
)
Look
who’s
at
door
there
,
ho
.
Who
knocks
?
Davy
exits
.
Why
,
now
you
have
done
me
right
.
sings
Do
me
right
,
And
dub
me
knight
,
Samingo
.
Is
’t
not
so
?
’Tis
so
.
Is
’t
so
?
Why
then
,
say
an
old
man
can
do
somewhat
.
Enter
Davy
.
An
’t
please
your
Worship
,
there’s
one
Pistol
come
from
the
court
with
news
.
From
the
court
?
Let
him
come
in
.
Enter
Pistol
.
How
now
,
Pistol
?
Sir
John
,
God
save
you
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
What
wind
blew
you
hither
,
Pistol
?
Not
the
ill
wind
which
blows
no
man
to
good
.
Sweet
knight
,
thou
art
now
one
of
the
greatest
men
in
this
realm
.
By
’r
Lady
,
I
think
he
be
,
but
Goodman
Puff
of
Barson
.
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
.
I
pray
thee
now
,
deliver
them
like
a
man
of
this
world
.
A
foutre
for
the
world
and
worldlings
base
!
I
speak
of
Africa
and
golden
joys
.
O
base
Assyrian
knight
,
what
is
thy
news
?
Let
King
Cophetua
know
the
truth
thereof
.
sings
And
Robin
Hood
,
Scarlet
,
and
John
.
Shall
dunghill
curs
confront
the
Helicons
,
And
shall
good
news
be
baffled
?
Then
,
Pistol
,
lay
thy
head
in
Furies’
lap
.
Honest
gentleman
,
I
know
not
your
breeding
.
Why
then
,
lament
therefor
.
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
to
conceal
them
.
I
am
,
sir
,
under
the
King
in
some
authority
.
Under
which
king
,
besonian
?
Speak
or
die
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Under
King
Harry
.
Harry
the
Fourth
,
or
Fifth
?
Harry
the
Fourth
.
A
foutre
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
.
Pistol
makes
a
fig
.
What
,
is
the
old
king
dead
?
As
nail
in
door
.
The
things
I
speak
are
just
.
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
.
O
joyful
day
!
I
would
not
take
a
knight-hood
for
my
fortune
.
What
,
I
do
bring
good
news
!
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
!
—
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
!
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
.
They
exit
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
Scene
4
Enter
Hostess
Quickly
,
Doll
Tearsheet
,
and
Beadles
.
No
,
thou
arrant
knave
.
I
would
to
God
that
I
might
die
,
that
I
might
have
thee
hanged
.
Thou
hast
drawn
my
shoulder
out
of
joint
.
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
killed
about
her
.
Nut-hook
,
nut-hook
,
you
lie
!
Come
on
,
I’ll
tell
thee
what
,
thou
damned
tripe-visaged
rascal
:
an
the
child
I
now
go
with
do
miscarry
,
thou
wert
better
thou
hadst
struck
thy
mother
,
thou
paper-faced
villain
.
O
the
Lord
,
that
Sir
John
were
come
!
I
would
make
this
a
bloody
day
to
somebody
.
But
I
pray
God
the
fruit
of
her
womb
might
miscarry
.
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
.
I’ll
tell
you
what
,
you
thin
man
in
a
censer
,
I
will
have
you
as
soundly
swinged
for
this
,
you
bluebottle
rogue
,
you
filthy
famished
correctioner
.
If
you
be
not
swinged
,
I’ll
forswear
half-kirtles
.
Come
,
come
,
you
she-knight-errant
,
come
.
O
God
,
that
right
should
thus
overcome
might
!
Well
,
of
sufferance
comes
ease
.
Come
,
you
rogue
,
come
,
bring
me
to
a
justice
.
Ay
,
come
,
you
starved
bloodhound
.
Goodman
Death
,
Goodman
Bones
!
Thou
atomy
,
thou
!
Come
,
you
thin
thing
,
come
,
you
rascal
.
Very
well
.
They
exit
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
Scene
5
Enter
two
Grooms
.
More
rushes
,
more
rushes
.
The
trumpets
have
sounded
twice
.
’Twill
be
two
o’clock
ere
they
come
from
the
coronation
.
Dispatch
,
dispatch
.
Grooms
exit
.
Trumpets
sound
,
and
the
King
and
his
train
pass
over
the
stage
.
After
them
enter
Falstaff
,
Shallow
,
Pistol
,
Bardolph
,
and
the
Page
.
Stand
here
by
me
,
Master
Robert
Shallow
.
I
will
make
the
King
do
you
grace
.
I
will
leer
upon
him
as
he
comes
by
,
and
do
but
mark
the
countenance
that
he
will
give
me
.
God
bless
thy
lungs
,
good
knight
!
Come
here
,
Pistol
,
stand
behind
me
.
—
O
,
if
I
had
had
time
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
.
It
doth
so
.
It
shows
my
earnestness
of
affection
—
It
doth
so
.
My
devotion
—
It
doth
,
it
doth
,
it
doth
.
As
it
were
,
to
ride
day
and
night
,
and
not
to
deliberate
,
not
to
remember
,
not
to
have
patience
to
shift
me
—
It
is
best
,
certain
.
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
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
’Tis
semper
idem
,
for
obsque
hoc
nihil
est
;
’tis
all
in
every
part
.
’Tis
so
indeed
.
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
,
haled
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
.
I
will
deliver
her
.
Shouts
within
.
The
trumpets
sound
.
There
roared
the
sea
,
and
trumpet-clangor
sounds
.
Enter
the
King
and
his
train
.
God
save
thy
Grace
,
King
Hal
,
my
royal
Hal
.
The
heavens
thee
guard
and
keep
,
most
royal
imp
of
fame
!
God
save
thee
,
my
sweet
boy
!
My
Lord
Chief
Justice
,
speak
to
that
vain
man
.
,
to
Falstaff
Have
you
your
wits
?
Know
you
what
’tis
you
speak
?
,
to
the
King
My
king
,
my
Jove
,
I
speak
to
thee
,
my
heart
!
I
know
thee
not
,
old
man
.
Fall
to
thy
prayers
.
How
ill
white
hairs
becomes
a
fool
and
jester
.
I
have
long
dreamt
of
such
a
kind
of
man
,
So
surfeit-swelled
,
so
old
,
and
so
profane
;
But
being
awaked
,
I
do
despise
my
dream
.
Make
less
thy
body
hence
,
and
more
thy
grace
;
ACT 5. SC. 5
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
turned
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
.
To
the
Lord
Chief
Justice
.
Be
it
your
charge
,
my
lord
,
To
see
performed
the
tenor
of
my
word
.
—
Set
on
.
King
and
his
train
exit
.
Master
Shallow
,
I
owe
you
a
thousand
pound
.
Yea
,
marry
,
Sir
John
,
which
I
beseech
you
to
let
me
have
home
with
me
.
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
.
I
cannot
well
perceive
how
,
unless
you
should
give
me
your
doublet
and
stuff
me
out
with
straw
.
I
beseech
you
,
good
Sir
John
,
let
me
have
five
hundred
of
my
thousand
.
Sir
,
I
will
be
as
good
as
my
word
.
This
that
you
heard
was
but
a
color
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
A
color
that
I
fear
you
will
die
in
,
Sir
John
.
Fear
no
colors
.
Go
with
me
to
dinner
.
—
Come
,
lieutenant
Pistol
.
—
Come
,
Bardolph
.
—
I
shall
be
sent
for
soon
at
night
.
Enter
the
Lord
Chief
Justice
and
Prince
John
,
with
Officers
.
Go
,
carry
Sir
John
Falstaff
to
the
Fleet
.
Take
all
his
company
along
with
him
.
My
lord
,
my
lord
—
I
cannot
now
speak
.
I
will
hear
you
soon
.
—
Take
them
away
.
Si
fortuna
me
tormenta
,
spero
me
contenta
.
All
but
John
of
Lancaster
and
Chief
Justice
exit
.
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
banished
till
their
conversations
Appear
more
wise
and
modest
to
the
world
.
And
so
they
are
.
The
King
hath
called
his
parliament
,
my
lord
.
He
hath
.
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
,
pleased
the
King
.
Come
,
will
you
hence
?
They
exit
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
EPILOGUE
First
my
fear
,
then
my
curtsy
,
last
my
speech
.
My
fear
is
your
displeasure
,
my
curtsy
my
duty
,
and
my
speech
,
to
beg
your
pardons
.
If
you
look
for
a
good
speech
now
,
you
undo
me
,
for
what
I
have
to
say
is
of
mine
own
making
,
and
what
indeed
I
should
say
will
,
I
doubt
,
prove
mine
own
marring
.
But
to
the
purpose
,
and
so
to
the
venture
.
Be
it
known
to
you
,
as
it
is
very
well
,
I
was
lately
here
in
the
end
of
a
displeasing
play
to
pray
your
patience
for
it
and
to
promise
you
a
better
.
I
meant
indeed
to
pay
you
with
this
,
which
,
if
like
an
ill
venture
it
come
unluckily
home
,
I
break
,
and
you
,
my
gentle
creditors
,
lose
.
Here
I
promised
you
I
would
be
,
and
here
I
commit
my
body
to
your
mercies
.
Bate
me
some
,
and
I
will
pay
you
some
,
and
,
as
most
debtors
do
,
promise
you
infinitely
.
And
so
I
kneel
down
before
you
,
but
,
indeed
,
to
pray
for
the
Queen
.
If
my
tongue
cannot
entreat
you
to
acquit
me
,
will
you
command
me
to
use
my
legs
?
And
yet
that
were
but
light
payment
,
to
dance
out
of
your
debt
.
But
a
good
conscience
will
make
any
possible
satisfaction
,
and
so
would
I
.
All
the
gentlewomen
here
have
forgiven
me
;
if
the
gentlemen
will
not
,
then
the
gentlemen
do
not
agree
with
the
gentlewomen
,
EPILOGUE
which
was
never
seen
before
in
such
an
assembly
.
One
word
more
,
I
beseech
you
:
if
you
be
not
too
much
cloyed
with
fat
meat
,
our
humble
author
will
continue
the
story
,
with
Sir
John
in
it
,
and
make
you
merry
with
fair
Katherine
of
France
,
where
,
for
anything
I
know
,
Falstaff
shall
die
of
a
sweat
,
unless
already
he
be
killed
with
your
hard
opinions
;
for
Oldcastle
died
a
martyr
,
and
this
is
not
the
man
.
My
tongue
is
weary
;
when
my
legs
are
too
,
I
will
bid
you
good
night
.
all or part of a full metrical line
all or part of a prose speech
a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose
editorial emendation
text from the Folio not in the Quarto
text from the Quarto not found in the Folio