The Bodleian First Folio

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Reference: g1r - Histories, p. 75

Left Column


The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth Tra.
[80]
My Lord, Sit Iohn Vmfreuill turn'd me backe With ioyfull tydings; and (being better hors'd) Out‑rod me. After him, came spurring head A Gentleman (almost fore‑spent with speed) That stopp'd by me, to breath his bloodied horse.
[85]
He ask'd the way to Chester: And of him I did demand what Newes from Shrewsbury: He told me, that Rebellion had ill lucke, And that yong Harry Percies Spurre was cold. With that he gaue his able Horse the head,
[90]
And bending forwards strooke his able heeles Against the panting sides of his poore Iade Vp to the Rowell head, and starting so, He seem'd in running, to deuoure the way, staying no longer question.
North.
[95]
Ha? Againe: Said he yong Harrie Percyes Spurre was cold? (Of Hot‑Spurre, cold‑Spurre?) that Rebellion, Had met ill lucke?
L. Bar. My Lord: Ile tell you what,
[100]
If my yong Lord your Sonne, haue not the day, Vpon mine Honor, for a silken point Ile giue my Barony. Neuer talke of it.
Nor. Why should the Gentleman that rode by Trauers Giue then such instances of Losse? L. Bar.
[105]
Who, he? He was some hielding Fellow, that had stolne The Horse he rode‑on: and vpon my life Speake at aduenture. Looke, here comes more Newes.
Enter Morton. Nor. Yea, this mans brow, like to a Title‑leafe,
[110]
Fore‑tels the Nature of a Tragicke Volume: So lookes the Strond, when the Imperious Flood Hath left a witnest Vsurpation. Say Morton, did'st thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury (my Noble Lord)
[115]
Where hatefull death put on his vgliest Maske To fright our party.
North. How doth my Sonne, and Brother? Thou trembl'st; and the whitenesse in thy Cheeke Is apter then thy Tongue, to tell thy Errand.
[120]
Euen such a man, so faint, so spiritlesse, So dull, so dead in looke, so woe‑be‑gone, Drew Priams Curtaine, in the dead of night, And would haue told him, Halfe his Troy was burn'd. But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue:
[125]
And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it. This, thou would'st say; Your Sonne did thus, and thus: Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas, Stopping my greedy care, with their bold deeds. But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed)
[130]
Thou hast a Sigh, to blow away this Praise, Ending with Brother, Sonne, and all are dead.
Mor. Dowglas is liuing, and your Brother, yet: But for my Lord, your Sonne. North. Why he is dead.
[135]
See what a ready tongue Suspition hath: He that but feares the thing, he would not know, Hath by Instinct, knowledge from others Eyes, That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet speake ( Morton) Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies,
[140]
And I will take it, as a sweet Disgrace, And make thee rich, for doing me such wrong.
Mor. You are too great, to be (by me) gainsaid:

Right Column


Your Spirit is too true, your Feares too certaine. North. Yet for all this, say not that Percies dead.
[145]
I see a strange Confession in thine Eye: Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it Feare, or Sinne, To speake a truth. If he be slaine, say so: The Tongue offends not, that reports his death: And he doth sinne that doth belye the dead:
[150]
Not he, which sayes the dead is not aliue: Yet the first bringer of unwelcome Newes Hath but a loosing Office: and his Tongue, Sounds ever after as a sullen Bell Remembred, knolling a departing Friend.
L. Bar.
[155]
I cannot thinke (my Lord) your son is dead.
Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to beleeue That, which I would to heauen, I had not seene. But these mine eyes, saw him in bloody state, Rendering faint quittance (wearied, and out‑breath'd).
[160]
To Henrie Monmouth, whose swift wrath beate downe The neuer‑daunted Percie to the earth, From whence (with life) he never more sprung up. In few; his death (whose spirit lent a fire, Even to the dullest Peazant in his Campe)
[165]
Being bruited once, tooke fire and heate away From the best temper'd Courage in his Troopes. For from his Mettle, was his Party steel'd; Which once, in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy Lead:
[170]
And as the Thing, that's heauy in it selfe, Vpon enforcement, flyes with greatest speede, So did our Men, heavy in Hotspurres losse, Lend to this weight, such lightnesse with their Feare, That Arrowes fled not swifter toward their ayme,
[175]
Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their safety) Fly from the field. Then was that Noble Worcester Too soone ta'ne prisoner: and that furious Scot, (The bloody Dowglas) whose well‑labouring sword Had three times slaine th'appearance of the King,
[180]
Gan vaile his stomacke, and did grace the shame Of those that turn'd their backes: and in his flight, Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The summe of all, Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath sent out A speedy power, to encounter you my Lord,
[185]
Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancaster And Westmerland. This is the Newes at full.
North. For this, I shall haue time enough to mourne. In Poyson, there is Physicke: and this newes (Having beene well) that would have made me sicke,
[190]
Being sicke, haue in some measure, made me well. And as the Wretch, whose Feauer‑weakned ioynts, Like strengthlesse Hindges, buckle vnder life, Impatient of his Fit, breakes like a fire Out of his keepers armes: Even so, my Limbes
[195]
(Weak'ned with greefe) being­now inrag'd with greefe, Are thrice themselves. Hence therefore thou nice crutch, A scalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele Must gloue this hand. And hence thou sickly Quoife, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
[200]
Which Princes, flesh'd with Conquest, ayme to hit. Now binde my Browes with Iron, and approach The ragged'st houre, that Time and Spight dare bring To frowne vpon th'enrag'd Northumberland. Let Heauen kisse Earth: now let not Natures hand
[205]
Keepe the wilde flood confin'd: Let Order dye, And let the world no longer be a stage To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act: But let one spirit of the First‑borne Caine g Reigne

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Scena Tertia. [Act 1, Scene 1] Enter Falstaffe, and Page. Fal.

Sirra, you giant, what saies the Doct. Doctor to my water?

Pag.

He said sir, the Water it selfe was a good healthy

water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might haue more

diseases then he knew for.

Fal.
[270]

Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at mee: the

braine of this foolish compounded Clay‑man, is not able

to inuent any thing that tends to laughter, more then I

inuent, or is inuented on me. I am not onely witty in my

selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I doe heere

[275]

walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'rewhelm'd all

her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Ser­

uice for any other reason, then to set mee off, why then I

haue no iudgement. Thou horson Mandrake, thou art

fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeles. I

[280]

was neuer mann'd with an Agot till now: but I will sette

you neyther in Gold, nor Siluer, but in vilde apparell, and

send you backe againe to your Master, for a Iewell. The

Iuuenall (the Prince your Master) whose Chin is not yet

fledg'd, I will sooner have a beard grow in the Palme of

[285]

my hand, then he shall get one on his cheeke: yet he will

not sticke to say, his Face is a Face‑Royall. Heauen may

finish it when he will, it is not a haire amisse yet: he may

keepe it still at a Face‑Royall, for a Barber shall neuer

earne six pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if

[290]

he had writ man ever since his Father was a Batchellour.

He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of

mine, I can assure him. What said M. Dombledon, about

the Satten for my short Cloake, and Slops ?

Pag.

He said sir, you should procure him better Assu­

[295]

rance, then Bardolfe: he wold not take his Bond & yours,

he lik'd not the Security.

Fal.

Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his

Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a Rascally‑yea‑

forsooth‑knaue, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then

[300]

stand vpon Security? The horson smooth‑pates doe now,

we are nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at

their girdles: and if a man is through with them in ho­

nest Taking‑vp, then they must stand vpon Securitie: I

had as liefe they would put Rats‑bane in my mouth, as

[305]

offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should have

sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true

Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in

Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the

lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot

[310]

he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him.

Where's Bardolfe?

Pag.

He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship

a horse.

Fal.

I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse

[315]

in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I

were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd.

Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant. Pag.

Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed

the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe.

Fal.

Wait close, I will not see him.

Ch. Iust.
[320]

What's he that goes there?

Ser.

Falstaffe, and't please your Lordship.

Iust.

He that was in question for the Robbery?

Ser.

He my Lord, but he hath since done good service

at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some

[325]

Charge, to the Lord Iohn of Lancaster.

Iust.

What to Yorke? Call him backe againe.

Ser.

Sir Iohn Falstaffe.

Fal.

Boy, tell him, I am deafe.

Pag.

You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe.

Iust.
[330]

I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.

Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him.

Ser.

Sir Iohn.

Fal.

What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is

there not imployment ? Doth not the K. King lack subiects? Do

[335]

not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be sig

on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to

be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Re­

bellion can tell how to make it.

Ser.

You mistake me Sir.

Fal.
[340]

Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Set­

ting my Knight‑hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had

lyed in my throat, if I had said so.

Ser.

I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and

your Souldier‑ship aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you,

[345]

you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an

honest man.

Fal.

I give thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a‑side that

which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang

me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you

[350]

Hunt‑counter, hence: Auant.

Ser.

Sir, my Lord would speake with you.

Iust.

Sir Iohn Falstaffe, a word with you.

Fal.

My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of

the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard

[355]

say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes

abroad by aduise. Your Lordship (though not clean past

your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rel­

lish of the faltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech

your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health.

Iust.
[360]

Sir Iohn, I sent you before your Expedition, to

Shrewsburie.

Fal.

If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maiestie is

return'd with some discomfort from Wales.

Iust.

I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not come

[365]

when I sent for you?

Fal.

And I heare moreover, his Highnesse is falne into

this same whorson Apoplexie.

Iust.

Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with

(you.

Fal.
[370]

This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethar­

gie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling.

Iust.

What tell you me of it? be it as it is.

Fal.

It hath it originall from much greefe; from study

and perturbation of the braine. I have read the cause of

[375]

his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse.

Iust.

I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you

heare not what I say to you.

Fal.

Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please

you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not

[380]

Marking, that I am troubled withall.

Iust.

To punish you by the heeles, would amend the

attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian

Fal.

I am as poore as Iob, my Lord; but not so Patient:

your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment

[385]

to me, in respect of Pouertie: but how I should bee your

Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make

some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe.

Iust.

I sent for you (when there were matters against

you for your life) to come speake with me.

Fal.
[390]

As I was then advised by my learned Councel, in

The lawes of this Land‑service, I did not come.

Iust.

Wel, the truth is (sir Iohn) you liue in great infamy

Fal.

He that buckles him in my belt, cānot cannot liue in lesse.

Iust.

Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great.

Fal.
[395]

I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes

were greater, and my waste slenderer.

Iust.

You haue misled the youthfull Prince.

Fal.

The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fel­

low with the great belly, and he my Dogge.

Iust.
[400]

Well, I am loth to gall a new‑heal'd wound: your

daies service at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded ouer

your Nights exploit on Gads‑hill. You may thanke the

vnquiet time, for your quiet o're‑posting that Action.

Fal.

My Lord?

Iust.
[405]

But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping

(Wolfe.

Fal.

To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox.

Iu.

What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out

Fal.

A Wassell‑Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I did

[410]

say of wax, my growth would approue the truth.

Iust.

There is not a white haire on your face, but shold

haue his effect of grauity.

Fal.

His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy.

Iust

You follow th yong Prince vp and downe, like

[415]

his euill Angell.

Fal.

Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I

hope, he that lookes vpon mee, will take mee without,

weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go:

I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costor­

[420]

mongers that true valor is turn'd Beare‑heard. Pregnan­

cie is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in

giuing Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man

(as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a

Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capaci­

[425]

ties of vs that are yong: you measure the heat of our Li­

uers, with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the

vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too.

Iust.

Do you set downe your name in the scrowle of

youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charrac­

[430]

ters of age? Haue you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yel­

low cheeke? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an incresing

belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde short? your

wit single? and euery part about you blasted with Anti­

quity? and wil you cal your selfe yong? Fy, fy, fy sir Iohn.

Fal.
[435]

My Lord, l was borne with a white head, & som­

thing a round belly. For my voice, I haue lost it with hal­

lowing and singing of Anthemes. To approue my youth

farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudge­

ment and understanding: and he that will caper with mee

[440]

for a thousand Markes, let him lend me the mony, & haue

at him. For the boxe of th'eare that the Prince gaue you,

he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensi­

ble Lord. I haue checkt him for it, and the yong Lion re­

pents: Marry not in ashes and sacke‑cloath, but in new

[445]

Silke, and old Sacke,

Iust.

Wel, heauen send the Prince a better companion.

Fal.

Heaven send the Companion a better Prince: I

cannot rid my hands of him.

Iust.

Well, the King hath seuer'd you and Prince Har­ ry , I heare you are going with Lord Iohn of Lancaster, a­

gainst the Archbishop, and the Earle of Northumberland

Fal.

Yes, I thanke your pretty sweet wit for it: but

looke you pray, (all you that kisse my Ladie Peace, at

home) that our Armies ioyn not in a hot day: for if I take

[455]

but two shirts out with me, and I meane not to sweat ex­

traordinarily: if it bee a hot day, if I brandish any thing

but my Bottle, would I might neuer spit white againe:

There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head,

but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last euer.

Iust.
[460]
Well, be honest, be honest, and heauen blesse your Expedition.
Fal.

Will your Lordship lend mee a thousand pound,

to furnish me forth?

Iust.

Not a peny, not a peny: you are too impatient

to beare crosses. Fare you well. Commend mee to my

[465]

Cosin Westmerland.

Fal.

If I do, fillop me with a three‑man‑Beetle. A man

can no more separate Age and Couetousnesse, then he can

part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the

one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the De­

[470]

grees prevent my curses. Boy?

Page.

Sir.

Fal.

What money is in my purse?

Page.

Seuen groats, and two pence.

Fal.

I can get no remedy against this Consumption of

[475]

the purse. Borrowing onely lingers, and lingers it out,

but the disease is incureable. Go beare this letter to my

Lord of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earle of

Westmerland, and this to old Mistris Vrsula, whome I

haue weekly sworne to marry, since perceiu'd the first

[480]

white haire on my chin. About it: you know where to

finde me. A pox of this Gowt, or a Gowt of this Poxe:

for the one or th'other playes the rogue with my great

toe: It is no matter, if I do halt, I haue the warres for my

colour, and my Pension shall seeme the more reasonable.

[485]

A good wit will make vse of any thing: I will turne dis­

eases to commodity.

Exeunt
 

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   <head rend="italic center">Scena Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Falstaffe, and Page.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="266">Sirra, you giant, what saies the<choice>
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      <lb n="290"/>he had writ man ever since his Father was a Batchellour.
      <lb n="291"/>He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of
      <lb n="292"/>mine, I can assure him. What said M.<hi rend="italic">Dombledon</hi>, about
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      <speaker rend="italic">Pag.</speaker>
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   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="297">Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his
      <lb n="298"/>Tongue be hotter, a horson<hi rend="italic">Achitophel</hi>; a Rascally‑yea‑
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      <lb n="300"/>stand vpon Security? The horson smooth‑pates doe now,
      <lb n="301"/>we are nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at
      <lb n="302"/>their girdles: and if a man is through with them in ho­
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      <lb n="304"/>had as liefe they would put Rats‑bane in my mouth, as
      <lb n="305"/>offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should have
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      <lb n="308"/>Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the
      <lb n="309"/>lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot
      <lb n="310"/>he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him.
      <lb n="311"/>Where's<hi rend="italic">Bardolfe</hi>?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-pag">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pag.</speaker>
      <p n="312">He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship
      <lb n="313"/>a horse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="314">I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse
      <lb n="315"/>in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I
      <lb n="316"/>were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-pag">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pag.</speaker>
      <p n="317">Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed
      <lb n="318"/>the Prince for striking him, about<hi rend="italic">Bardolfe</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="319">Wait close, I will not see him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ch. Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="320">What's he that goes there?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="321">
         <hi rend="italic">Falstaffe</hi>, and't please your Lordship.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="322">He that was in question for the Robbery?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="323">He my Lord, but he hath since done good service
      <lb n="324"/>at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some
      <lb n="325"/>Charge, to the Lord<hi rend="italic">Iohn of Lancaster</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="326">What to Yorke? Call him backe againe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="327">Sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn Falstaffe</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="328">Boy, tell him, I am deafe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-pag">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pag.</speaker>
      <p n="329">You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="330">I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.
      <lb n="331"/>Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="332">Sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="333">What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is
      <lb n="334"/>there not imployment<c rend="italic">?</c>Doth not the<choice>
            <abbr>K.</abbr>
            <expan>King</expan>
         </choice>lack subiects? Do
      <lb n="335"/>not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be<pb facs="FFimg:axc0399-0.jpg" n="77"/>
         <cb n="1"/>sig
      <lb n="336"/>on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to
      <lb n="337"/>be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Re­
      <lb n="338"/>bellion can tell how to make it.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="339">You mistake me Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="340">Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Set­
      <lb n="341"/>ting my Knight‑hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had
      <lb n="342"/>lyed in my throat, if I had said so.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="343">I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and
      <lb n="344"/>your Souldier‑ship aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you,
      <lb n="345"/>you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an
      <lb n="346"/>honest man.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="347">I give thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a‑side that
      <lb n="348"/>which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang
      <lb n="349"/>me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you
      <lb n="350"/>Hunt‑counter, hence: Auant.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="351">Sir, my Lord would speake with you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="352">Sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn Falstaffe</hi>, a word with you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="353">My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of
      <lb n="354"/>the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard
      <lb n="355"/>say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes
      <lb n="356"/>abroad by aduise. Your Lordship (though not clean past
      <lb n="357"/>your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rel­
      <lb n="358"/>lish of the faltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech
      <lb n="359"/>your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="360">Sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn</hi>, I sent you before your Expedition, to
      <lb n="361"/>Shrewsburie.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="362">If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maiestie is
      <lb n="363"/>return'd with some discomfort from Wales.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="364">I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not come
      <lb n="365"/>when I sent for you?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="366">And I heare moreover, his Highnesse is falne into
      <lb n="367"/>this same whorson Apoplexie.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="368">Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with
      <lb rend="turnover" n="369"/>
         <c rend="turnover">(</c>you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="370">This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethar­
      <lb n="371"/>gie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="372">What tell you me of it? be it as it is.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="373">It hath it originall from much greefe; from study
      <lb n="374"/>and perturbation of the braine. I have read the cause of
      <lb n="375"/>his effects in<hi rend="italic">Galen</hi>. It is a kinde of deafenesse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="376">I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you
      <lb n="377"/>heare not what I say to you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="378">Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please
      <lb n="379"/>you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not
      <lb n="380"/>Marking, that I am troubled withall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="381">To punish you by the heeles, would amend the
      <lb n="382"/>attention of your eares, &amp; I care not if I be your Physitian</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="383">I am as poore as<hi rend="italic">Iob</hi>, my Lord; but not so Patient:
      <lb n="384"/>your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment
      <lb n="385"/>to me, in respect of Pouertie: but how I should bee your
      <lb n="386"/>Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make
      <lb n="387"/>some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="388">I sent for you (when there were matters against
      <lb n="389"/>you for your life) to come speake with me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="390">As I was then advised by my learned Councel, in
      <lb n="391"/>The lawes of this Land‑service, I did not come.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="392">Wel, the truth is (sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn</hi>) you liue in great infamy</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="393">He that buckles him in my belt,<choice>
            <abbr>cānot</abbr>
            <expan>cannot</expan>
         </choice>liue in lesse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="394">Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="395">I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes
      <lb n="396"/>were greater, and my waste slenderer.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="397">You haue misled the youthfull Prince.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="398">The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fel­
      <lb n="399"/>low with the great belly, and he my Dogge.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="400">Well, I am loth to gall a new‑heal'd wound: your
      <lb n="401"/>daies service at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded ouer
      <lb n="402"/>your Nights exploit on Gads‑hill. You may thanke the<cb n="2"/>
         
      <lb n="403"/>vnquiet time, for your quiet o're‑posting that Action.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="404">My Lord?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="405">But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping
      <lb rend="turnover" n="406"/>
         <c rend="turnover">(</c>Wolfe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="407">To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iu.</speaker>
      <p n="408">What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="409">A Wassell‑Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I did
      <lb n="410"/>say of wax, my growth would approue the truth.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="411">There is not a white haire on your face, but shold
      <lb n="412"/>haue his effect of grauity.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="413">His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust</speaker>
      <p n="414">You follow th<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="stain"
              resp="#ES"/>yong Prince vp and downe, like
      <lb n="415"/>his euill Angell.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="416">Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I
      <lb n="417"/>hope, he that lookes vpon mee, will take mee without,
      <lb n="418"/>weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go:
      <lb n="419"/>I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costor­
      <lb n="420"/>mongers that true valor is turn'd Beare‑heard. Pregnan­
      <lb n="421"/>cie is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in
      <lb n="422"/>giuing Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man
      <lb n="423"/>(as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a
      <lb n="424"/>Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capaci­
      <lb n="425"/>ties of vs that are yong: you measure the heat of our Li­
      <lb n="426"/>uers, with the bitternes of your gals: &amp; we that are in the
      <lb n="427"/>vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="428">Do you set downe your name in the scrowle of
      <lb n="429"/>youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charrac­
      <lb n="430"/>ters of age? Haue you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yel­
      <lb n="431"/>low cheeke? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an incresing
      <lb n="432"/>belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde short? your
      <lb n="433"/>wit single? and euery part about you blasted with Anti­
      <lb n="434"/>quity? and wil you cal your selfe yong? Fy, fy, fy sir<hi rend="italic">Iohn</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="435">My Lord, l was borne with a white head, &amp; som­
      <lb n="436"/>thing a round belly. For my voice, I haue lost it with hal­
      <lb n="437"/>lowing and singing of Anthemes. To approue my youth
      <lb n="438"/>farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudge­
      <lb n="439"/>ment and understanding: and he that will caper with mee
      <lb n="440"/>for a thousand Markes, let him lend me the mony, &amp; haue
      <lb n="441"/>at him. For the boxe of th'eare that the Prince gaue you,
      <lb n="442"/>he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensi­
      <lb n="443"/>ble Lord. I haue checkt him for it, and the yong Lion re­
      <lb n="444"/>pents: Marry not in ashes and sacke‑cloath, but in new
      <lb n="445"/>Silke, and old Sacke,</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="446">Wel, heauen send the Prince a better companion.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="447">Heaven send the Companion a better Prince: I
      <lb n="448"/>cannot rid my hands of him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="449">Well, the King hath seuer'd you and Prince<hi rend="italic">Har­
      <lb n="450"/>ry</hi>, I heare you are going with Lord<hi rend="italic">Iohn</hi>of Lancaster, a­
      <lb n="451"/>gainst the Archbishop, and the Earle of Northumberland</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="452">Yes, I thanke your pretty sweet wit for it: but
      <lb n="453"/>looke you pray, (all you that kisse my Ladie Peace, at
      <lb n="454"/>home) that our Armies ioyn not in a hot day: for if I take
      <lb n="455"/>but two shirts out with me, and I meane not to sweat ex­
      <lb n="456"/>traordinarily: if it bee a hot day, if I brandish any thing
      <lb n="457"/>but my Bottle, would I might neuer spit white againe:
      <lb n="458"/>There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head,
      <lb n="459"/>but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last euer.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <l n="460">Well, be honest, be honest, and heauen blesse your
      <lb/>Expedition.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="461">Will your Lordship lend mee a thousand pound,
      <lb n="462"/>to furnish me forth?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-lcj">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iust.</speaker>
      <p n="463">Not a peny, not a peny: you are too impatient
      <lb n="464"/>to beare crosses. Fare you well. Commend mee to my
      <lb n="465"/>Cosin Westmerland.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="466">If I do, fillop me with a three‑man‑Beetle. A man
      <lb n="467"/>can no more separate Age and Couetousnesse, then he can
      <lb n="468"/>part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the<pb facs="FFimg:axc0400-0.jpg" n="78"/>
         <cb n="1"/>
         
      <lb n="469"/>one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the De­
      <lb n="470"/>grees prevent my curses. Boy?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-pag">
      <speaker rend="italic">Page.</speaker>
      <p n="471">Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="472">What money is in my purse?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-pag">
      <speaker rend="italic">Page.</speaker>
      <p n="473">Seuen groats, and two pence.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-fal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fal.</speaker>
      <p n="474">I can get no remedy against this Consumption of
      <lb n="475"/>the purse. Borrowing onely lingers, and lingers it out,
      <lb n="476"/>but the disease is incureable. Go beare this letter to my
      <lb n="477"/>Lord of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earle of
      <lb n="478"/>Westmerland, and this to old Mistris<hi rend="italic">Vrsula</hi>, whome I
      <lb n="479"/>haue weekly sworne to marry, since perceiu'd the first
      <lb n="480"/>white haire on my chin. About it: you know where to
      <lb n="481"/>finde me. A pox of this Gowt, or a Gowt of this Poxe:
      <lb n="482"/>for the one or th'other playes the rogue with my great
      <lb n="483"/>toe: It is no matter, if I do halt, I haue the warres for my
      <lb n="484"/>colour, and my Pension shall seeme the more reasonable.
      <lb n="485"/>A good wit will make vse of any thing: I will turne dis­
      <lb n="486"/>eases to commodity.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt</stage>
</div>

                                
                            

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