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How many nobles then should hold their places,
Enter PRINCE JOHN, PRINCE HUMPHREY, CLARENCE,
P. John. Good-morrow, cousin Warwick, good-morrow.
P. John. We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
P. John. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!
Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier !
P. Humph. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend And I dare swear you borrow not that face [indeed;
Of seeming sorrow, -it is sure your own.
P. John. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find, You stand in coldest expectation:
I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
Cla. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair; Which swims against your stream of quality.
Ch. Just. 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.
Enter KING HENRY V.
Ch. Just. 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:
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
That I will deeply put the fashion on,
I'll be your father and your brother too;
P. John, &c. We hope no other from your majesty. King. You all look strangely on me:-and you most; [To the Chief-Justice.
You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.
Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father;
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
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
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
To your well-practis'd wise directions.
And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you ;-
[To the Lord Chief-Justice.
Our coronation done, we will accite,
The Garden of
Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the Page, and DAVY.
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth :-come, cousin Silence:-and then to bed.
Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
Shal. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John-marry, good air.-Spread, Davy; spread, Davy: well said, Davy.
Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man and your husband.
Shal. 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.
Sil. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a,
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
And ever among so merrily
Fal. There's a merry heart!-Good Master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon.
Shal. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
Davy. Sweet sir, sit [seating BARDOLPH and the Page at another table]; 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. Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph;-and, my little soldier there, be merry.
Be merry, be
merry, my wife has all;
For women are shrews, both short and tall;
And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry, &c.
Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle.
Sil. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere
Davy. There is a dish of leather-coats for you.
[Setting them before BARD.
Davy. Your worship?-I'll be with you straight [to BARD.]-A cup of wine, sir?
A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,
And a merry heart lives long-a.
Fal. Well said, Master Silence.
Sil. And we shall be merry;-now comes in the sweet of
Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence.
Fill the cup, and let it come;
Shal. 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 cavaleroes about London.
Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die.
Bard. An I might see you there, Davy,
Shal. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together,—ha! will you not, Master Bardolph?
Bard. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee:-the knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that: he will not out; he is true bred.
Bard. And I'll stick by him, sir.
Shal. Why, there spoke a king.
merry. [Knocking heard.] Look who's at door there, ho!
Fal. Why, now you have done me right.
Is't not so?
Lack nothing: be
[To SIL., who has drunk a bumper.
Do me right,
And dub me knight:
Fal. 'Tis so.
Sil. Is't so? Why, then, say an old man can do somewhat.
Davy. An it please your worship, there's one Pistol come from the court with news.