Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

you ?

Bard.

As good as heart can wish :- || So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, The king is almost wounded to the death;

Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And, in the fortune of my lord your son,

And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd: Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue, Kill'd by the hand of Douglas: young prince John, And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it. And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;

This thou wouldst say-Your son did thus, and thus ; And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk sir John,

Your brother, thus ; so fought the noble Douglas ; Is prisoner to your son : 0, such a day,

Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,

But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed, Came not, till now, to dignify the times,

Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Since Cæsar's fortunes !

Ending with-brother, son, and all are dead.
North.
How is this deriv'd ?

Mort. Douglas is living, and your brother, set: Saw you the field ? came you from Shrewsbury?

But, for my lord your songBard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from

North,

Why, he is dead. thence;

See, what a ready tongue suspicion bath! A gentleman well bred, and of good name,

He, that but fears the thing he would not know, That freely renderd me these news for true.

Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom I

That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton sent

Tell thou thy earl, his divination lies; On Tuesday last to listen after news.

And I will take it as a sweet disgrace, Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way;

And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. And be is furnish'd with no certainties,

Mort. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: More than he haply may retail from me.

Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.

North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's deadla
Enter Travers.
North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with

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:
Tra. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back

The tongue offends not, that reports his death: With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,

And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead; Outrode me. After him, came, spurring hard,

Not he, which says the dead is not alive. A gentleman almost forspent with speed,

Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse :

Hath but a losing office; and his tongue He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him

Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, I did demand, what news from Shrewsbury.

Remember'd knolling a departing friend. He told me, that rebellion had bad luck,

Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold:

Mort. I am sorry, I should force you to believe With that, he gave his able horse the head,

That, which I would to heaven I had not seed: And, bending forward, struck his armed heels

But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Against the panting sides of his poor jade

Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,

To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat dowu He seem'd in running to devour the way,

The neverdaunted Percy to the earth, Staying no longer question.

From whence with life he never more sprung up. North. Ha!--Again.

In few, his death (whose spirit lent a fire Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold ? Even to the dullest peasant in his camp.) Of Hotspur, coldspur? that rebellion

Being bruited once, took fire and heat away Had met ill luck!

From the best temper'd courage in his troops : Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ;

For from his metal was his party steeld; If my young lord your son have not the day,

Which once in him abated, all the rest Upon mine honour, for a silken point

Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. I'll give my barony: never talk of it.

And as the thing that's heavy in itsell,
North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by || Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed;
Travers,

So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
Give then such instances of loss?

Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear, Bard.

Who, he?

That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim, He was some hilding fellow, that had stol'n

Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, The horse he rode on; and, upon my life,

Fly from the field : Then was that noble Worcester Spoke at a renture. Look, here comes more news.

Too soon ta'en prisoner: and that furious Scot, Enter Morton.

The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Had three times slain the appearance of the king. Foretells the nature of a tragic volume :

'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood Of those that turn'd their backs; and, in his flight, Hath left a witness'd usurpation.

Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? Is-that the king hath won; and hath sent out Mort. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord ;

A speedy power, to encounter you, my lord,
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask, Under the conduct of young Lancaster,
To fright our party.

And Westmoreland : This is the news at full.
North. How doth my son, and brother? North. For this I shall have time enough to mours
Thou tremblest ; and the whiteness in thy cheek In poison there is physic; and these news,
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.

Having been well, that would have made me sick, Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,

Being sick, bave in some measure made me well:

And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, Tells them, he doth bestride a bleeding land,
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,

Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire

And more, and less, do flock to follow him. Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbo,

North. I know of this before ; but, to speak truth, Weakend with grief, being now enrag‘d with grief, This present grief had wip'd it from my mind. Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice Go in with me; and counsel every man cruteh ;

The aptest way for safety, and revenge: A sealy gauntlet now, with joints of steel,

Get posts, and letters, and make friends with speed; Must glove this hand : and hence, thou sickly quoif ; | Never so few, and never yet more need. [Exeunt. Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,

SCENE II.-London. A Strect. Enter Sir John Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.

Falstaff, with his Page, bearing his sword and buckNow bind my brows with iron; And approach

ler. The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland !

Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my

water? Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not nature's hand Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die !

Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healAnd let this world no longer be a stage,

thy water : but for the party that owed it, he might To feed contention in a lingering act;

have more diseases than he knew for. Bnt let one spirit of the first-born Cain

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at nire : Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set

The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,

not able to vent any thing that tends to laughter, more And darkness be the burier of the dead!

than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. | witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your

I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overhonour.

whelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee Mort. The lives of all your loving complices

into my service for any other reason than to set me Lean on your health ; the which, if you give o'er

off, why then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson To stormy passion, must perforee decay.

mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than You cast the event of war, my noble lord,

to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an And summ'd the account of chance, before you said,

agate till now: but I will set you neither in gold nor Let us make head. It was your presurmise,

silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop :

your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge,

master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner More likely to fall in, than to get o'er :

have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he You were advis'd, his flesh was capable

sball get one on his cheek ; and yet he will not stiek of wounds and scars; and that his forward spirit

his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;

he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still Tet did you say, Go forth ; and none of this,

as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence Though strongly apprehended, could restrain out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ 'The stiff-borne action: What hath then befallen,

man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,

keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can More than that being which was like to be?

assure him. What said master Dumbleton about the Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss,

satin for my short cloak, and slops ? Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas,

Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one : assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd

and yours; he liked not the security. Chokd the respect of bikely peril feard;

Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! may his And, since we are o'erset, venture again.

tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel ! a rascal. Come, we will all put forth ; body, and goods.

ly yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in band, Mort. 'Tis more than time: And, my most noble and then stand upon security !-The whoreson smoothlordhe

pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,

of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with The gentle arehbishop of York is up,

them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon With well-appointed powers ; he is a man,

security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my Who with a double surety binds his followers.

mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he My lord your son had only but the corps,

should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as But shadows, and the shows of men, to fight:

I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, For that same word, rebellion, did divide

he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of The action of their bodies from their souls ;

abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,

it: and yet cannot be see, though he have luis own As men drink potions ; that their weapons only

lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph? Seemid on our side, but, for their spirits and souls,

Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worThis word, rebellion, it had froze them up,

ship a borse. Ås fish are in a pond : But now the bishop

Fal. I bought him in Paul's; and he'll buy me a 'Turns insurrection to religion:

horse in Smithfield : an I could get me but a wife in Sappos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,

the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. He's follow'd both with body and with mind;

Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendant. And doth enlarge his rising with the blood

Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that comunitted of fair king Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones: the prince for striking him about Bardolpli. Derives from heavey his quarrel, and his cause; Fal. Wait close, I will not see him.

to say,

is great.

C. Just. What's he that goes there?

prisonment to me, in respect of poverty; but how 1 Atten. Falstaff, an't please your lordship.

should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, C. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? the wise may make some drachm of a scruple, or, in

Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good | deed, a scruple itself. service at Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going C. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. against you for your life, to come speak with me.

C. Just. What, to York? Call him back again. Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel Atten. Sir John Falstaff!

in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf.

C. Just. Well the truth is, sir John, you live in great Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. infamy.

C. Just. I am sure, be is, to the hearing of any thing Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live good.-Go, pluck him by the elbow ; I must speak || in less. with him.

C. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste Atten. Sir John,

Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the king

were greater, and my waist slenderer. lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers ? Though C. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it fellow with the great belly, and be my dog. worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make

C.Just. Well, I am loath to galla new-healed wound; it.

your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded Atten. You mistake me, sir.

over your night's exploit on Gads-hill: You may thank Fal. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man?

the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting that acsetting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had tion. lied in my throat if I had said so.

Fal. My lord? Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and C. Just. But since all is well, keep it so : wake wat your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you,

a sleeping wolf. you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad as to smell a fox. an honest man.

C. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part Fal. I give the leave to tell me so ! I lay aside that

burnt out. which grows to me! If thou gett'st any leave of me,

Fal. A wassel-candle, my lord; all tallow: if I did hang me! If thou takest leave, thou wert better be

say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. hanged : You hunt-counter, hence! avaunt !

C. Just. There is not a white bair on your face, but Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you.

should have his effect of gravity. C. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a worl with you.

Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Fal. My good lord !-God give your lordship goou C. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad : like his ill angel. I heard say, your lordship was sick: I hope, your lord

Fal. Not so, my lord ; your ill angel is light; but I ship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though hope, he that looks upon me, will take me without not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I

go, I cannot tell : Virtue is of so little regard in these most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bear care of your health.

herd: Pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick C. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedi- | wit wasted in giving reckonings : all the other gifts tion to Shrewsbury.

appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes Pal. An't please your lordship, 1 hear, his majesty | them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, is returned with some disconfort from Wales.

consider not the capacities of us that are young: you C. Just. I talk not of his majesty:-You would not

measure the beat of our livers with the bitterness of come when I sent for you.

your galls: and we that are in the vaward of our youth, Fal. And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen in I must confess, are wags too. to this same whoreson apoplexy.

C. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll C. Just. Well, heaven mend him. I pray, let me of youth, that are written down old with all the elar speak with you.

acters of age ? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of leth

a yellow cheek? a white beard ? a decreasing leg? an argy, an't please your lordship ; a kind of sleeping in increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind the blood, a whoreson tingling.

short? your chin double ? your wit single? and every C, Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is.

part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from

yet call yourself young? Fie, tie, fie, sir Jolin! study, and perturbation of the brain : I have read the

Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in cause of his effects in Galen ; it is a kind of deafness.

the afternoon, with a white head, and something a Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease ; | round belly. For my voice,- I have lost it with hollafor you hear not what I say to you.

ing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an' further, I will not : the truth is, I am only old in jedgeplease you, it is the disease of not listening, the mala

ment and understanding; and be that will caper with dy of not marking, that I am troubled withal.

me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, C. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend and have at him. For the box o'the ear that the prince the attention of your ears; and I care not, if I do begave you,

he gave it like a rude prince, and you took come your physician.

it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it ; ad Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so pa the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes, and sack tient: your lordship may minister the potion of im-cloth ; but in new silk, and old sack.

thus ;

C. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better com With an incensed fire of injuries. panion!

Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standetli Fal. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him.

-Whether our present five and twenty thousand C. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and prince || May hold up head without Northuinberland. Harry : I hear, you are going with lord John of Lan

Hast. With himn, we may. caster, against the archbishop, and the earl of North Bard,

Ay, marry, there's the point; umberland.

But if without him we be thought too feeble, Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. My judgement is, we should not step too far But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at Till we had his assistance by the hand : home, that our armies join not in a hot day! for, by || For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this, the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I Conjecture, expectation, and surmise mean not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, of aids uncertain, should not be almitted. an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would I might Arch. 'Tis very true, lord Bardolph ; for, indeed, neper spit white again. There is not a dangerous ac It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. tion can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it: Bard. It was, my lord ; who lin'd himself with hope, Well, I cannot last ever: But it was always yet the || Eating the air on promise of supply, triek of our English nation, if they bave a good thing, Flattering himself with project of a power to make it too common. If you will needs say, Í am Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: an old man, you should give ine rest. I would to God, And so, with great imagination, my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be And, winking, leap'd into destruction. scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.

Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, C. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; And God bless To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope. your expedition!

Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war ;Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, || Indeed the instant action, (a cause on foot.) to furnish me forth?

Lives so in hope, as in an early spring C. Just. Not a penny, not a penny; yoụ are too im We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit, patient to bear crosses. Fare you well : Commend me | Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair, to my cousin Westmoreland. (Exit C.Just.and Auen. That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,

Fol. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle.-A We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
tan can no more separate age and covetousness, than And when we see the figure of the house,
bare ean part young limbs and lcchery: but the gout Then must we mate the cost of the erection:
galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so Which if we find outweighs ability,
both the degrees prevent my curses.-Boy !

What do we then, but draw anew the model
Page. Sir?

In fewer offices; or, at least, desist Fal. What money is in my purse?

To build at all! Much more, in this great work, Page. Seven groats and two-pence.

(Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down, Fal I can get no remedy against this consumption And set another up,) should we survey of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it The plot of situation, and the model; out, but the disease is incurable.-Go bear this letter Consent upon a sure foundation ; to my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to | Question surveyors; know our own estate, the earl of Westmoreland ; and this to old mistress How able such a work to undergo, Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I To weigh against his opposite; or else, perceived the first white hair on my chin : About it; | We fortify in paper, and in figures, you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of Using the names of men, instead of men: this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for the one, or the Like one, that draws the model of a house other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, fatter, if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, || Gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost and my pension shall seem the more reasonable: A A naked subject to the weeping clouds, good wit will make use of any thing ; I will turn dis And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. eases to commodity.

[Exit. Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth,)

Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
SCENE III-York. A Room in the Archbishop's The utmost man of expectation ;
Polace. Enter the Archbishop of Tork, tlie Lords I think, we are a body strong enough,
Hastings, Mowbray, and Bandolph.

Even as we are, to equal with the king. Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and known Bard. What! is the king but five and twenty thou our means ;

sand? Ảnd, my most noble friends, I pray you all,

Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bar. Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes :

dolph. And first, lord Marshal, what say you to it?

For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Mow, I well allow the occasion of our arms;

Are in three heads : one power against the French, Bat gladly would be better satisfied,

And one against Glendower; perforce, a third How, in our means, we should advance ourselves Must take up us : So is the unfirm king to look with forehead bold and big enough

In three divided; and his coffers sound Cpon the power and puissance of the king.

With hollow poverty and emptiness. Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file

Arch. That he should draw his several strengths to To five and twenty thousand men of choice;

gether, And our supplies live largely in the hope

And come against us in full puissance, of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns Need not be dreaded.

Hast.
If he should do so,

ed to dinner to the labbar's head in Lambert-street, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh to master Smooth's the silk man: I pray ye, since my Baying him at the heels : never fear that.

exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither? | world, let him be brought in to, his answer. A hub

Hast. The duke of Lancaster, and Westinoreland : dred mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth : bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and But who is substituted 'gainst the French,

have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, I have no certain notice.

from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be Arch. Let ils on ;

thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; And publish the occasion of our arms.

unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, to bear every knave's wrong. Their over-greedy love hath surfeited :

Enter Sir John Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph. An habitation giddy and unsure

Yonder he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause

Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices,

master Fang, and master Snare; Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,

do me, do mne,

do Before he was wbat thou would'st have him be?

me your offices. And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,

Fal. How now? whose mare's dead? what's the Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,

matter? That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.

Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of mistress So, so, thou commop dog, didst thou disgorge

Quickly. Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;

Fal. Away, varlets !-Draw, Bardolph; cut me off And now thou would'st eat thy dead vomit up,

the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel. And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times ? Host. Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die,

the channel. Wilt thou ? wilt thou? thou bastardly Are now become enamourd on his grave:

rogue !-Murder, murder! O thou honey-suckle vilThou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,

lain! wilt thou kill God's officers, and the king's? O When through proud London he came sighing on

thou honey.seed rogue ! thou art a honey seed; a mauAfter the admired heels of Bolingbroke,

queller, and a woman-queller. Cry'st now, 0 earth, yield us that king again,

Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. And take thou this ! O thoughts of men accurst! Fang. A rescue! a rescue! Past, and to come, seem best; things present, worst. Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two.- Thor

Mow. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on? wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou ? do, do, thou Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!

(Excunt. Fal. Away, you scullion ! you rampallian! you fus.

tilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.

Enter the Lord Chief Justice, attended.

C. Just. What's the matter? keep the peace here, ACT II.

ho!

Host. Good my lord, be good to me! I beserch you SCENE 1.-London. A Street. Enter Hostess; Fang, 1 stand to me! and his Boy, with her; and Snare following. C. Just. How now, sir John ? what are you brawk Hostess.

ing here? MASTER Fang, have you entered the action ? Doth this become your place, your time, and business? Fang. It is entered.

You should have been well on your way to York. Host. Where is your yeoman? Is it a lusty yeoman? | Stand from him, fellow; Wherefore bang 'st thou on will a' stand to't ?

him? Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare?

Host. O my most worshipful lord, an't please your Host. O lord, ay: good master Snare.

grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is ar Snare. Here, here.

rested at my suit. Fang. Snare, we must arrest sir John Falstaff. C. Just. For what sum?

Host. Yea, good master Snare; I have entered bim Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, and all.

all I have: he hath eaten me out of house and home ; Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of bis : he will stab.

-but I will have some of it out again, or I'll ride thee Host. Alas the day! take heed of him ; le stabbed 'o'nights, like the mare. ine in mine own house, and that most beastly: in good Fol. I think, I am as like to ride the mare, if I hate faith, a' cares not what mischief he doth, if his weap any vantage of ground to get up on be out: he will foin like any devil ; lie will spare C. Just. How comes this, sir John ? Fye! what inart Teither man, woman, nor child.

of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamt Fang. If I cun close with him, I care not for his tion? Are you not ashamed, to enforce a poor widos thrust.

to so rough a course to come by her own? Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' cone but with Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself

, in my vice ;

and the money too. Thou did'st swear to me upon a Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at lie's an infinitive thing upon my score :-Gool mas the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in ter Fang, hold hinı sure ;-rood master Snare, let him Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for not 'scape. He comes continuantly to Pie-corner, (sav liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor ; thon ing our :cranboods.) to buy a saddle; and he's indit didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound.

« AnteriorContinuar »