Actus Secundus. Scœna Prima.
[Act 2, Scene 1]
Enter Hostesse. With two Officers, Fang, and Snare.
Hostesse.
[600]
Mr.
Fang, haue you entred the Action?
Fang.
It is enter'd.
Hostesse.
Wher's your Yeoman
? Is it a lusty yeoman?
Will he stand to it?
Fang.
Sirrah, where's
Snare?
Hostesse.
[605]
I, I, good M.
Snare..
Snare.
Heere, heere.
Fang.
Snare, we must Arrest Sir
Iohn Falstaffe.
Host.
I good M.
Snare, I haue enter'd him, and all.
Sn.
It may chance cost some of vs our liues: he wil stab
Hostesse.
[610]
Alas the day: take heed of him: he stabd me
in mine owne house, and that most beastly: he cares not
what mischeefe he doth, if his weapon be out. Hee will
foyne like any diuell, he will spare neither man, woman,
nor childe.
Fang.
[615]
If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
Hostesse.
No, nor I neither: Ile be at your elbow.
Fang.
If I but fist him once: if he come but within my
Vice.
Host.
I am vndone with his going: I warrant he is an
[620]
infinitiue thing vpon my score. Good M.
Fang hold him
sure: good M.
Snare let him not scape, he comes continu
antly to Py‑Corner (sauing your manhoods) to buy a sad
dle, and hee is indited to dinner to the Lubbars head in
Lombardstreet, to M.
Smoothes the Silkman. I pra'ye, since
[625]
my Exion is enter'd, and my Case so openly known to the
world, let him be brought in to his answer: A 100. Marke
is a long one, for a poore lone woman to beare: & I haue
borne, and borne, and borne, and haue bin fub'd off, and
fub'd‑off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to
[630]
be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing, vnles
a woman should be made an Ass and a Beast, to beare e
uery Knaues wrong.
Enter Falstaffe and Bardolfe.
Yonder he comes, and that arrant Malmesey‑Nose
Bar
dolfe
with him. Do your Offices, do your offices: M.
Fang,
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& M.
Snare, do me, do me, do me your Offices.
Fal.
How now
? whose Mare's dead? what's the matter?
Fang.
Sir
Iohn, I arrest you, at the suit of Mist.
Quickly.
Falst.
Away Varlets, draw
Bardolfe: Cut me off the
Villaines head: throw the Queane in the Channel.
Host.
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Throw me in the channell? Ile throw thee there.
Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue. Murder, mur
der, O thou Hony‑suckle villaine, wilt tkou kill Gods of
ficers, and the Kings? O thou hony‑seed Rogue, thou art
a honyseed, a Man‑queller, and a woman‑queller.
Falst.
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Keep them off,
Bardolfe.
Fang.
A rescu, a rescu.
Host.
Good people bring a rescu. Thou wilt not? thou
wilt not? Do, do thou Rogue: Do thou Hempseed.
Page.
Away you Scullion, you Rampallian, you Fustil
[650]
lirian: Ile tucke your Catastrophe.
Enter. Ch. Iustice.
Iust.
What's the matter? Keepe the Peace here, hoa.
Host.
Good my Lord be good to mee. I beseech you
stand to me.
Ch. Iust.
How now sir
Iohn? What are you brauling here?
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Doth this become your place, your time, and businesse?
You should haue bene well on your way to Yorke.
Stand from him Fellow; wherefore hang'st vpon him
?
Host.
Oh my most worshipfull Lord, and't please your
Grace, I am a poore widdow of Eastcheap, and he is arre
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sted at my suit.
Ch. Iust.
For what summe?
Host.
It is more then for some (my Lord) it is for all: all
I haue, he hath eaten me out of house and home; hee hath
put all my substance into that fat belly of his: but I will
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haue some of it out againe, or I will ride thee o'Nights,
like the Mare.
Falst.
I thinke I am as like to ride the Mare, if I haue
any vantage of ground, to get vp.
Ch: Iust.
How comes this, Sir
Iohn? Fy, what a man of
[670]
good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation?
Are you not asham'd to inforce a poore Widdowe to so
rough a course, to come by her owne?
Falst.
What is the grosse summe that I owe thee?
Host.
Marry (if thou wer't an honest man) thy selfe, &
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the mony too. Thou didst sweare to mee vpon a parcell
gilt Goblet, sitting in my Dolphin‑chamber at the round
table, by a sea‑cole fire, on Wednesday in Whitson week,
when the Prince broke thy head for lik'ning him to a sin
ging man of Windsor; Thou didst sweare to me then (as I
[680]
was washing thy wound) to marry me, and make mee my
Lady thy wife. Canst y
u deny it? Did not good wife
Keech
the Butchers wife come in then, and cal me gossip
Quick
ly
? comming in to borrow a messe of Vinegar: telling vs,
she had a good dish of Prawnes: whereby y
u didst desire to
[685]
eat some: whereby I told thee they were ill for a greene
wound? And didst not thou (when she was gone downe
staires) desire me to be no more familiar with such poore
people, saying, that ere long they should call me Madam?
And did'st y
u not kisse me, and bid mee fetch thee 30.s? I
[690]
put thee now to thy Book‑oath, deny it if thou canst?
Fal.
My Lord, this is a poore mad soule: and she sayes
vp & downe the town, that her eldest son is like you. She
hath bin in good case, & the truth is, pouerty hath distra
cted her: but for these foolish Officers, I beseech you, I
[695]
may haue redresse against them.
Iust.
Sir
Iohn, sir
Iohn, I am well acquainted with your
maner of wrenching the true cause, the false way. It is not
a confident brow, nor the throng of wordes, that come
with such (more then impudent) sawcines from you, can
[700]
thrust me from a leuell consideration, I know you ha' pra
ctis'd vpon the easie‑yeelding spirit of this woman.
Host.
Yes in troth my Lord.
Iust.
Prethee peace: pay her the debt you owe her, and
vnpay the villany you haue done her: the one you may do
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with sterling mony, & the other with currant repentance.
Fal.
My Lord, I will not vndergo this sneape without
reply. You call honorable Boldnes, impudent Sawcinesse:
If a man wil curt'sie, and say nothing, he is vertuous: No,
my Lord (your humble duty
remēbred
remembred
) I will not be your
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sutor. I say to you, I desire deliu'rance from these Officers
being vpon hasty employment in the Kings Affaires.
Iust.
You speake, as hauing power to do wrong: But
answer in the effect of your Reputation, and satisfie the
poore woman.
Falst.
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Come hither Hostesse.
Enter M. Gower
Ch. Iust.
Now Master
Gower; What newes?
Gow.
The King (my Lord) and
Henrie Prince of Wales
Are neere at hand: The rest the Paper telles.
Falst.
As I am a Gentleman.
Host.
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Nay, you said so before.
Fal.
As I am a Gentleman. Come, no more words of it
Host.
By this Heauenly ground I tread on, I must be
faine to pawne both my Plate, and the Tapistry of my dy
ning Chambers.
Fal.
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Glasses, glasses, is the onely drinking: and
for
thy walles a pretty slight Drollery, or the Storie of the
Prodigall, or the Germane hunting in Waterworke, is
worih
worth
a thousand of these Bed‑hangings, and these Fly‑
bitten Tapistries. Let it be tenne pound (if thou canst.)
[730]
Come, if it were not for thy humors, there is not a better
Wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy
Action: Come, thou must not bee in this humour with
me, come, I know thou was't set on to this.
Host.
Prethee (Sir
Iohn) let it be, but twenty Nobles,
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I loath to pawne my Plate, in good earnest la.
Fal.
Let it alone, Ile make other shift: you'l be a fool
still.
Host.
Well, you shall haue it although I pawne my
Gowne. I hope you'l come to Supper: You'l pay me al
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together?
Fal.
Will I liue? Go with her, with her: hooke‑on,
hooke‑on.
Host.
Will you haue
Doll Teare‑sheet meet you at sup
per
?
Fal.
No more words. Let's haue her.
Ch. Iust.
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I haue heard bitter newes.
Fal
What's the newes (my good Lord?)
Ch. Iu.
Where lay the King last night?
Mes.
At Basingstoke my Lord.
Fal.
I hope (my Lord) all's well. What is the newes
[750]
my Lord?
Ch. Iust.
Come all his Forces backe?
Mes.
No: Fifteene hundred Foot, fiue hundred Horse
Are march'd vp to my Lord of Lancaster,
Against Northumberland, and the Archbishop.
An ink mark follows the end of this line.
Fal.
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Comes the King backe from Wales, my noble
L
Lord
?
Ch. Iust.
You shall haue Letters of me presently.
Come, go along with me, good M.
Gowre.
Fal.
My Lord.
Ch. Iust.
What's the matter?
Fal.
[760]
Master
Gowre, shall I entreate you with mee to
dinner?
Gow.
I must waite vpon my good Lord heere.
I thanke you, good Sir
Iohn.
Ch. Iust.
Sir
Iohn, you loyter heere too long, being you
[765]
are to take Souldiers vp, in Countries as you go.
Fal.
Will you sup with me, Master
Gowre?
Ch. Iust.
What foolish Master taught you these man‑
ners, Sir
Iohn?
Fal.
Master
Gower, if they become mee not, hee was a
[770]
Foole that taught them mee. This is the right Fencing
grace (my Lord) tap for tap, and so part faire.
Ch. Iust.
Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great
Foole.
Exeunt
