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strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

CHIEF JUSTICE. O God, I fear all will be overturn’d!

LANCASTER. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.

GLOUCESTER & CLARENCE. Good morrow, cousin.

LANCASTER. We meet like men that had forgot to speak.

WARWICK. We do remember; but our argument Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

LANCASTER. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

CHIEF JUSTICE. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!

GLOUCESTER. 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.

LANCASTER. Though no man be assured what grace to find, You stand in coldest expectation: I am the sorrier; would ‘twere otherwise.

CLARENCE. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair; Which swims against your stream of quality.

CHIEF JUSTICE. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour, Led by the impartial conduct of my soul; And never shall you see that I will beg A ragged and forestall’d 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.

WARWICK. Here comes the prince.

[Enter King Henry the Fifth, attended.]

CHIEF JUSTICE. Good morrow; and God save your majesty!

KING. 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.

PRINCES. We hope no otherwise from your majesty.

KING. You all look strangely on me: and you most; You are, I think, assured I love you not.

CHIEF JUSTICE. I am assured, if I be measured rightly, Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

KING. 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 The immediate heir of England! Was this easy? May this be wash’d in Lethe, and forgotten?

CHIEF JUSTICE. I then did use the person of your father; The image of his power lay then in me; And, in the administration of his law, Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, Your highness pleased 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 judgement; 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 disdain’d; 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.

KING. You are right, justice, and you weigh this well; Therefore still bear the balance and the sword: And I do wish your honours 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: “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 The unstained 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. 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-practised 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 spirit 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 flow’d 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 govern’d nation; That war, or peace, or both at once, may be As things acquainted and familiar to us; In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. Our coronation done, we will accite, As I before remember’d, 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!

[Exeunt.]

 

SCENE III. Gloucestershire. Shallow’s orchard.

[Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, and the Page.]

SHALLOW. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, 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.

FALSTAFF. ‘Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.

SHALLOW. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy: well said, Davy.

FALSTAFF. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man and your husband.

SHALLOW. 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.

SILENCE. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,

[Singing.]

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.

FALSTAFF. There’s a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I’ll give you a health for that anon.

SHALLOW. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.

DAVY. 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.

[Exit.]

SHALLOW. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there, be merry.

SILENCE. Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;

[Singing.]

For women are shrews, both short and tall; ‘Tis merry in hall when beards wag all; And welcome merry Shrove-tide. Be merry, be merry.

FALSTAFF. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle.

SILENCE. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.

[Re-enter Davy.]

DAVY. There ‘s a dish of leather-coats for you. [To Bardolph.]

SHALLOW. Davy!

DAVY. Your worship! I’ll be with you straight [To BARDOLPH.]. A cup of wine, sir?

SILENCE. A cup of wine that ‘s brisk and fine,

[Singing.]

And drink unto the leman mine; And a merry heart lives long-a.

FALSTAFF. Well said, Master Silence.

SILENCE. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o’ the night.

FALSTAFF. Health and long life to you, Master Silence!

SILENCE. Fill the cup, and let it come,

[Singing.]

I’ll pledge you a mile to the bottom.

SHALLOW. Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief [to the Page], and welcome indeed too. I’ll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.

DAVY. I hope to see London once ere I die.

BARDOLPH. An I might see you there, Davy,—

SHALLOW. By the mass, you’ll crack a quart together, ha! will you not, Master Bardolph?

BARDOLPH. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.

SHALLOW. By God’s liggens, I thank thee: the knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. A’ will not out; he is true bred.

BARDOLPH. And I’ll stick by him, sir.

SHALLOW. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry.

[Knocking within.]

Look who ‘s at door there, ho! who knocks?

[Exit Davy.]

FALSTAFF. Why, now you have done me right.

[To Silence, seeing him take off a bumper.]

SILENCE. Do me right,

[Singing.]

And dub me knight: Samingo. Is’t not so?

FALSTAFF. ‘Tis so.

SILENCE. Is’t so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.

[Re-enter Davy.]

DAVY. An’t please your worship, there ‘s one Pistol come from the court with news.

FALSTAFF. From the court? Let him come in.

[Enter Pistol.]

How now, Pistol!

PISTOL. Sir John, God save you!

FALSTAFF. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

PISTOL. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

SILENCE. By’r lady, I think a’ be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

PISTOL. 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.

FALSTAFF. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.

PISTOL. A foutre for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys.

FALSTAFF. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

SILENCE. And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. [Singing.]

PISTOL. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? And shall good news be baffled? Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.

SHALLOW. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

PISTOL. Why then, lament therefore.

SHALLOW. 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 conceal them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority.

PISTOL. Under which king, Besonian? speak, or die.

SHALLOW. Under King Harry.

PISTOL. Harry the Fourth? or Fifth?

SHALLOW. Harry the Fourth.

PISTOL. 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.

FALSTAFF. What, is the old king dead?

PISTOL. As nail in door: the things I speak are just.

FALSTAFF. 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.

BARDOLPH. O joyful day! I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

PISTOL. What! I do bring good news.

FALSTAFF. Carry Master

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