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.

P. Hen. 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 HENRY, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH.

Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. [Knocking heard.]-More knocking at the door?

Re-enter BARDOLPH.

How now? what's the matter?

Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you.

26

Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah.-[To the Page.] 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.

Dot. I cannot speak;-if my heart be not ready to burst.-Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Fal. Farewell, farewell.

[Exeunt FALSTAFF, and BARDOLPH. Host. 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.

Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tear-sheet,-
Host. What's the matter?

Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come to my master.

Host. O! run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. Come.[DOLL comes along blubbering.]-Yea-will you come, Doll? [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A Room in the Palace.

Enter King HENRY in his nightgown, with a Page.
K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey, and of
Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them. Make good speed.
(Exit Page.
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep!-O sleep! O gentle sleep!
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
O, thou dull god! why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds,
That with the hurly death itself awakes?
Can'st thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter WARWICK, and SURREY.

War. Many good morrows to your majesty!
K. Hen. Is it good morrow, lords?
War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

K. Hen. Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.

Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
War. We have, my liege.

K. Hen. 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.

War. It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd,
Which to his former strength may be restor'd,
With good advice, and little medicine.
My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.

K. Hen. 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
The beachy girdle of the ocean

Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
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 toil'd in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foot;
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard,
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by,
(You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember,)

[To WARWICK.
When Richard, with his eye brimfull of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now prov'd 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 bow'd the state,

That I and greatness were compell'd 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.

War. There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd; The which observ'd, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds, And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. 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.

K. Hen. 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.

War.
It cannot be, my lord:
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the fear'd.-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 receiv'd
A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
And these unseason'd hours, perforce, must add
Unto your sickness.

28

K. Hen. I will take your counsel: And were these inward wars once out of hand, We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Court before Justice SHALLOW's House in Gloucestershire.

Enter SHALLOW, and SILENCE, meeting; MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULL-CALF, and Servants, behind.

Shal. Come on, come on, come on, sir; give me your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir: an early stirrer, by the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence?

Sil. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.

Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow! and your fairest daughter, and mine, my goddaughter Ellen.

Sil. Alas! a black ouzel, cousin Shallow.

Shal. By yea and nay, sir, I dare say, my cousin William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford, still, is he not?

Sil. Indeed, sir; to my cost.

Shal. He must then to the inns of court shortly. I was once of Clement's-inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Sil. You were called lusty Shallow then, cousin. Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and

I would have done any thing, indeed, 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 of court again: and, I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk.

Sil. This sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers?

Shal. The same sir John, the very same. I saw him break Skogan's head at the court gate, when he was a crack, not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's-inn. Jesu! Jesu! the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead!

Sil. We shall all follow, cousin.

Shal. 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?

Sil. Truly, cousin, I was not there.

Shal. Death is certain.-Is old Double of your town living yet?

Sil. Dead, sir.

Shal. Jesu! Jesu! Dead!-he drew a good bow; and dead!-he shot a fine shoot :-John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead!-he would have clapped in the clout at 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?

Sil. Thereafter as they be; a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.

Shal. And is old Double dead!

Enter BARDOLPH, and one with him.

Sil. Here come two of sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.

Shal. Good morrow, honest gentlemen.

Bard. I beseech you, which is justice Shallow? Shal. 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?

Bard. My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, sir John Falstaff: a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.

Shal. 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?

Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife.

Shal. 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.

Bard. Pardon me, sir; I have heard the word. Phrase, call you it? By this good day, I know not the phrase: but I will maintain the word with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command, 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.

Shal. 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 look well, and bear your years very well: welcome, good sir John. Fal. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow.-Master Sure-card, as I think. Shal. No, sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.

Fal. Good master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace.

Sil. Your good worship is welcome.

Fal. Fie! this is hot weather.-Gentlemen, have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?

Shal. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
Fal. Let me see them, I beseech you.

Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll?-Let me see, let me see: so, so, So, so. Yea, marry, sir:-Ralph Mouldy!-let them appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, an it please you.

Shal. What think you, sir John? a good limbed fellow: young, strong, and of good friends. Fal. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, an it please you.

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. Shal. 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.

Fal. Prick him. [To SHALLOW. Moul. 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.

Fal. Go to; peace, Mouldy! you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.

Moul. Spent!

Shal. Peace, fellow, peace! stand aside: know you where you are?-For the other, sir John:let me see.-Simon Shadow!

Fal. Yea marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier.

Shal. Where's shadow?
Shad. Here, sir.

Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou?
Shad. My mother's son, sir.

Fal. Thy mother's son! like enough; and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male. It is often so, indeed; but not of the father's substance.

Shal. Do you like him, sir John?

Fal. Shadow will serve for summer, prick him; for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book.

Shal. Thomas Wart!
Fal. Where's he?
Wart. Here, sir.

Fal. Is thy name Wart?
Wart. Yea, sir.

Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart.
Shal. Shall I prick him, sir John?

Fal. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins prick him no more.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha!-you can do it, sir; you can do it: I commend you well.-Francis Feeble! Fee. Here, sir.

Bull. O lord! good my lord captain,Fal. What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked?

Bull. O Lord! sir, I am a diseased man.
Fal. What disease hast thou?

Bull. A whoreson cold, sir; a cough, sir; which I caught with ringing in the king's affairs upon his coronation day, sir.

Fal. 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?

Shal. 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.

Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, master Shallow.

Shal. O, sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint George's fields?

Fal. No more of that, good master Shallow; no more of that.

Shal. Ha, it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive?

Fal. She lives, master Shallow.

Shal. She never could away with me.

Fal. Never, never: she would always say, she could not abide master Shallow.

Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?

Fal. Old, old, master Shallow.

Shal. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old; certain she's old, and had Robin Nightwork by old Night-work, before I came to Clement's-inn.

Sil. That's fifty-five year ago.

Shal. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this knight and I have seen!-Ha, sir John, said I well?

Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight. master Shallow.

Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith, sir John, we have. Our watchword was, 66 Hem, boys!"-Come, let's to dinner; come, let's to dinner.-O, the days that we have seen!-Come, come.

[Exeunt FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, and SILENCE. Bull. Good master corporate Bardolph, stand my friend, and here is four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. 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