SCENE I. London. A street.
[Enter Hostess, Fang and his Boy with her, and Snare following.]
HOSTESS.
Master Fang, have you entered the action?
FANG.
It is entered.
HOSTESS.
Where 's your yeoman? Is 't a lusty yeoman? will 'a stand to 't?
FANG.
Sirrah, where 's Snare?
HOSTESS.
O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.
SNARE.
Here, here.
FANG.
Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
HOSTESS.
Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all.
SNARE.
It may chance cost some of our lives, for he will stab.
HOSTESS.
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.
FANG.
If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
HOSTESS.
No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow.
FANG.
An I but fist him once; an 'a come but within my vice,--
HOSTESS.
I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he 's an
infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure:
good Master Snare, let him not 'scape. A' 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 ye, 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 Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter?
FANG.
Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.
FALSTAFF.
Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain's
head: throw the quean in the channel.
HOSTESS.
Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the channel.
Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah,
thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the
king's?
Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller,
and a woman-queller.
FALSTAFF.
Keep them off, Bardolph.
FANG.
A rescue! a rescue!
HOSTESS.
Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't thou?
thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!
PAGE.
Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle
your catastrophe.
[Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men.]
CHIEF JUSTICE.
What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho!
HOSTESS.
Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
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?
HOSTESS.
O my most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am a
poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
For what sum?
HOSTESS.
It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have.
He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance
into that fat belly of his: but I will have some of it out again,
or I will ride thee o' nights like the mare.
FALSTAFF.
I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any
vantage of ground to get up.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
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?
FALSTAFF.
What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
HOSTESS.
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 green wound? And didst thou not, when she
was gone down stairs, 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.
FALSTAFF.
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.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
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, practised upon the
easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses
both in purse and in person.
HOSTESS.
Yea, in truth, my lord.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the
villany you have done her: the one you may do with sterling
money, and the other with current repentance.
FALSTAFF.
My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply.
You call honourable boldness impudent sauciness: if a man will make
courtesy 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.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer
in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman.
FALSTAFF.
Come hither, hostess.
[Enter Gower.]
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Now, Master Gower, what news?
GOWER.
The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells.
FALSTAFF.
As I am a gentleman.
HOSTESS.
Faith, you said so before.
FALSTAFF.
As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it.
HOSTESS.
By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn
both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.
FALSTAFF.
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 water-work, is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and
these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou canst.
Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's not a better wench in
England. Go, wash thy face, and draw the action. Come, thou must not be
in this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I know thou wast
set on to this.
HOSTESS.
Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' faith,
I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la!
FALSTAFF.
Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a fool still.
HOSTESS.
Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope
you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together?
FALSTAFF.
Will I live? [To Bardolph.] Go, with her, with her;
hook on, hook on.
HOSTESS.
Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?
FALSTAFF.
No more words; let 's have her.
[Exeunt Hostess, Bardolph, Officers, and Boy.]
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I have heard better news.
FALSTAFF.
What 's the news, my lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Where lay the king last night?
GOWER.
At Basingstoke, my lord.
FALSTAFF.
I hope, my lord, all 's well: what is the news, my lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Come all his forces back?
GOWER.
No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,
Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster,
Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.
FALSTAFF.
Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
You shall have letters of me presently:
Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
FALSTAFF.
My lord!
CHIEF JUSTICE.
What's the matter?
FALSTAFF.
Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?
GOWER.
I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, good Sir John.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to
take soldiers up in counties as you go.
FALSTAFF.
Will you sup with me, Master Gower?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John?
FALSTAFF.
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.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. London. Another street.
[Enter Prince Henry and Poins.]
PRINCE.
Before God, I am exceeding weary.
POINS.
Is 't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not have
attach'd one of so high blood.
PRINCE.
Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion of
my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me to
desire small beer?
POINS.
Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to
remember so weak a composition.
PRINCE.
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 to-morrow! or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou
hast, viz. these, and those that were thy peach-coloured 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 thy low countries have made
a shift to eat up thy holland: and God knows, whether those that bawl
out of 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.
POINS.
How ill it follows, after you have laboured 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?
PRINCE.
Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?
POINS.
Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.
PRINCE.
It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.
POINS.
Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.
PRINCE.
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.
POINS.
Very hardly upon such a subject.
PRINCE.
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.
POINS.
The reason?
PRINCE.
What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep?
POINS.
I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
PRINCE.
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 road-way better than thine: every man would think me an
hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to
think so?
POINS.
Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffed
to Falstaff.
PRINCE.
And to thee.
POINS.
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.]
PRINCE.
And the boy that I gave Falstaff: 'a had him from me Christian;
and look, if the fat villain have not transformed him ape.
BARDOLPH.
God save your grace!
PRINCE.
And yours, most noble Bardolph!
POINS.
Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you be blushing?
wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms are you become!
Is 't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead?
PAGE.
'A 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 peep'd through.
PRINCE.
Has not the boy profited?
BARDOLPH.
Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!
PAGE.
Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away!
PRINCE.
Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?
PAGE.
Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamt she was delivered of a
fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream.
PRINCE.
A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, boy.
POINS.
O, that this blossom could be kept from cankers! Well,
there is sixpence to preserve thee.
BARDOLPH.
An you do not make him hanged among you, the gallows
shall have wrong.
PRINCE.
And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH.
Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to town:
there's a letter for you.
POINS.
Deliver'd with good respect. And how doth the martlemas,
your master?
BARDOLPH.
In bodily health, sir.
POINS.
Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves
not him: though that be sick, it dies not.
PRINCE.
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.
POINS.
[Reads.] "John Falstaff, knight,"--every man must know that, as oft
as he has occasion 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."
PRINCE.
Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet.
But to the letter:
POINS.
[Reads] "Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the king,
nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting." Why, this
is a certificate.
PRINCE.
Peace!
POINS.
[Reads.] "I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity:" he sure
means brevity in breath, short-winded. "I commend me to thee, I commend
thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses
thy favours so much, that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell.
Repent at idle times as thou mayest; 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.
PRINCE.
That 's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use
me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?
POINS.
God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so.
PRINCE.
Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the
wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master here in London?
BARDOLPH.
Yea, my lord.
PRINCE.
Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?
BARDOLPH.
At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.
PRINCE.
What company?
PAGE.
Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.
PRINCE.
Sup any women with him?
PAGE.
None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.
PRINCE.
What pagan may that be?
PAGE.
A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.
PRINCE.
Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town bull. Shall
we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?
POINS.
I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.
PRINCE.
Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that
I am yet come to town: there's for your silence.
BARDOLPH.
I have no tongue, sir.
PAGE.
And for mine, sir, I will govern it.
PRINCE.
Fare you well; go.
[Exeunt Bardolph and Page.]
This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.
POINS.
I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.
PRINCE.
How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true
colours, and not ourselves be seen?
POINS.
Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at
his table as drawers.
PRINCE.
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.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle.
[Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and Lady Percy.]
NORTHUMBERLAND.
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.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND.
I have given over, I will speak no more:
Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;
And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.
LADY PERCY.
O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd 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 honours 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 grey 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 practis'd not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those who could speak low and tardily
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd 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 honour 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,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
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.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND.
O, fly to Scotland,
Till that the nobles and the armed commons
Have of their puissance made a little taste.
LADY PERCY.
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 suffer'd: so came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
As with the tide swell'd 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.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap.
[Enter two Drawers.]
FIRST DRAWER.
What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns?
thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
SECOND DRAWER.
Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish of apple-johns
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.
FIRST DRAWER.
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.
SECOND DRAWER.
Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins anon; and they
will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John must
not know of it: Bardolph hath brought word.
FIRST DRAWER.
By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an excellent
stratagem.
SECOND DRAWER.
I'll see if I can find out Sneak.
[Exit.]
[Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet.]
HOSTESS.
I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an excellent good
temperality: your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would
desire; and your colour, 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?
DOLL.
Better than I was: hem!
HOSTESS.
Why, that 's well said; a good heart's worth gold. Lo, here
comes Sir John.
[Enter Falstaff.]
FALSTAFF.
[Singing] "When Arthur first in court"--Empty the jordan.
[Exit First Drawer.]--[Singing] "And was a worthy king."
How now, Mistress Doll!
HOSTESS.
Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.
FALSTAFF.
So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.
DOLL.
You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?
FALSTAFF.
You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
DOLL.
I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not.
FALSTAFF.
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.
DOLL.
Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
FALSTAFF.
"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,--
DOLL.
Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
HOSTESS.
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 that must be you: you are the
weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier vessel.
DOLL.
Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there's a whole
merchant's venture of Bourdeaux 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.
[Re-enter First Drawer.]
FIRST DRAWER.
Sir, Ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with you.
DOLL.
Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the
foul-mouthed'st rogue in England.
HOSTESS.
If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live
among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame
with the 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.
FALSTAFF.
Dost thou hear, hostess?
HOSTESS.
Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John: there comes no swaggerers here.
FALSTAFF.
Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient.
HOSTESS.
Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: 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, neighbour Quickly," says he; Master Dumbe, our
minister, was by then; "neighbour Quickly," says he, "receive those
that are civil; for" said he "you are in an ill name:" now a' 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.
FALSTAFF.
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.
[Exit First Drawer.]
HOSTESS.
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.
DOLL.
So you do, hostess.
HOSTESS.
Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen leaf: I
cannot abide swaggerers.
[Enter Pistol, Bardolph, and Page.]
PISTOL.
God save you, Sir John!
FALSTAFF.
Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with
a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.
PISTOL.
I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
FALSTAFF.
She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her.
HOSTESS.
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.
PISTOL.
Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
DOLL.
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.
PISTOL.
I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
DOLL.
Away, you cut-purse 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!
PISTOL.
God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff for this.
FALSTAFF.
No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here:
discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
HOSTESS.
No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
DOLL.
Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed
to be called captain? An captains 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.
BARDOLPH.
Pray thee, go down, good ancient.
FALSTAFF.
Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
PISTOL.
Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear
her: I'll be revenged of her.
PAGE.
Pray thee go down.
PISTOL.
I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake, by this
hand, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also.
Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors!
Have we not Hiren here?
HOSTESS.
Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith: I
beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
PISTOL.
These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses
And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day,
Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?
HOSTESS.
By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.
BARDOLPH.
Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anon.
PISTOL.
Die men like dogs! give crowns like pins! Have we not Hiren
here?
HOSTESS.
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.
PISTOL.
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 nothing?
FALSTAFF.
Pistol, I would be quiet.
PISTOL.
Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: what! we have seen the seven
stars.
DOLL.
For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot endure such a
fustian rascal.
PISTOL.
Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?
FALSTAFF.
Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling:
nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing, a' shall be nothing
here.
BARDOLPH.
Come, get you down stairs.
PISTOL.
What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
[Snatching up his sword.]
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
HOSTESS.
Here's goodly stuff toward!
FALSTAFF.
Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL.
I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
FALSTAFF.
Get you down stairs.
[Drawing, and driving Pistol out.]
HOSTESS.
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.
[Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph.]
DOLL.
I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you whoreson
little valiant villain, you!
HOSTESS.
Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' made a shrewd
thrust at your belly.
[Re-enter Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
Have you turned him out o' doors?
BARDOLPH.
Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, sir, i'
the shoulder.
FALSTAFF.
A rascal! to brave me!
DOLL.
Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
sweatest! 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!
FALSTAFF.
A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
DOLL.
Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass
thee between a pair of sheets.
[Enter Music.]
PAGE.
The music is come, sir.
FALSTAFF.
Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal
bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quicksilver.
DOLL.
I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson
little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting
o' days and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body
for heaven?
[Enter, behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised as drawers.]
FALSTAFF.
Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's-head; do
not bid me remember mine end.
DOLL.
Sirrah, what humour 's the prince of?
FALSTAFF.
A good shallow young fellow: 'a would have made a good
pantler; a' would ha' chipped bread well.
DOLL.
They say Poins has a good wit.
FALSTAFF.
He a good wit! hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as
Tewksbury mustard; there 's no more conceit in him than is in a
mallet.
DOLL.
Why does the prince love him so, then?
FALSTAFF.
Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a' 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
joined-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 a' 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.
PRINCE.
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
POINS.
Let 's beat him before his whore.
PRINCE.
Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed
like a parrot.
POINS.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive
performance?
FALSTAFF.
Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE.
Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the
almanac to that?
POINS.
And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping
to his master's old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper.
FALSTAFF.
Thou dost give me flattering busses.
DOLL.
By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
FALSTAFF.
I am old, I am old.
DOLL.
I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
them all.
FALSTAFF.
What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money o'
Thursday: shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: it
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me when I am gone.
DOLL.
By my troth, thou'lt set me a-weeping, an thou sayest so:
prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return: well,
hearken at the end.
FALSTAFF.
Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE & POINS.
Anon, anon, sir.
[Coming forward.]
FALSTAFF.
Ha! a bastard son of the king's? And art thou not Poins
his brother?
PRINCE.
Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead!
FALSTAFF.
A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.
PRINCE.
Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.
HOSTESS.
O, the Lord preserve thy grace! by my troth, welcome to
London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu,
are you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF.
Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
DOLL.
How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
POINS.
My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn all
to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
PRINCE.
You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
HOSTESS.
God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.
FALSTAFF.
Didst thou hear me?
PRINCE.
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.
FALSTAFF.
No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.
PRINCE.
I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I
know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.
PRINCE.
Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper and I
know not what!
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Hal.
POINS.
No abuse!
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before
the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; 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.
PRINCE.
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?
POINS.
Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
FALSTAFF.
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
outbids him too.
PRINCE.
For the women?
FALSTAFF.
For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls.
For the other, I owe her money; and whether she be damned for
that, I know not.
HOSTESS.
No, I warrant you.
FALSTAFF.
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.
HOSTESS.
All victuallers do so: what 's a joint of mutton or two in a
whole Lent?
PRINCE.
You, gentlewoman,--
DOLL.
What says your grace?
FALSTAFF.
His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
[Knocking within.]
HOSTESS.
Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.
[Enter Peto.]
PRINCE.
Peto, how now! what news?
PETO.
The king your father is at Westminster;
And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north: and, as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
PRINCE.
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 vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
[Exeunt Prince, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must
hence, and leave it unpicked.
[Knocking within.] More knocking at the door!
[Re-enter Bardolph.]
How now! what's the matter?
BARDOLPH.
You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
FALSTAFF.
[To the 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.
DOLL.
I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to burst,--well, sweet
Jack, have a care of thyself.
FALSTAFF.
Farewell, farewell.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph.]
HOSTESS.
Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years,
come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man,----
well, fare thee well.
BARDOLPH.
[Within.] Mistress Tearsheet!
HOSTESS.
What's the matter?
BARDOLPH.
[Within.] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.
HOSTESS.
O, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll: come. [She comes blubbered.]
Yea, will you come, Doll?
[Exeunt.]
