« VorigeDoorgaan »
Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father;
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.
King. You are right, justice, and you weigh this well; Therefore still bear the balance and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may increase,
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words;-
The unstained sword that you have used to bear;
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
To your well-practised, wise directions.
+ Treat with contempt your acts executed by a representative. Imagine yourself with a son.
And, princes, all, believe me, I beseech you ;-
[To the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE. Our coronation done, we will accite,t
As I before remember'd, all our state:
No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say,-
SCENE III.-Glostershire. The Garden of SHALLOW's house. Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the PAGE, and DAVY.
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine orchard: where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth;-come, cousin Silence; and then to bed.
Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling, and a rich. Shal. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: -marry, good air.-Spread, Davy; spread, Davy; well said, Davy. Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your servingman, and your husbandman.
Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John.-By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper: -a good varlet. Now, sit down, now sit down:-come, cousin. Sil. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a,-we shall
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
And ever among so merrily.
Fal. There's a merry heart!-Good master Silence, I'll give
you a health for that anon.
Shal. Give master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
Davy. Sweet Sir, sit [Seating BARDOLPH and the PAGE at another table]. I'll be with you anon :-most sweet Sir, sit.Master Page, good master Page, sit: proface!* What you want in meat, we'll have in drink. But you must bear; The heart's† all. [Exit.
Shal. Be merry, master Bardolph;-and my little soldier there, be merry.
Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife's as all;
Be merry, be merry, &c.
Fal. I did not think, master Silence had been a man of this mettle.
Sil. Who I? I have been merry twice and once, ere now.
Davy. There is a dish of leather-coats§ for you.
[Setting them before BARDOLPH.
Davy. Your worship ?-I'll be with you straight. [To BARD.]
cup of wine, Sir?
Sil. A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine,
And a merry heart lives long-a.
Fal. Well said, master Silence.
Sil. And we shall be merry;-now comes in the sweet of the
Fal. Health and long life to you, master Silence.
Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come;
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.
Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest anything, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.-Welcome, my little tiny thief [To the PAGE]; and welcome, indeed, too. I'll drink to master Bardolph, and to all the cavalieroes about London. Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die.
Bard. An I might see you there Davy,
Shal. By the mass you'll crack a quart together. Ha! will you not, master Bardolph ?
Bard. Yes, Sir, in a pottle pot.
Shal. I thank thee:-The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that he will not out; he is true bred.
Bard. And I'll stick by him, Sir.
Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry. [Knocking heard.] Look who's at door there: Ho! who knocks? [Exit DAVY.
Fal. Why, now you have done me right.
[To SILENCE, who drinks a bumper.
* Much good may it do you. § Russetines.
As all women are.
Sil. Do me right,
Is't not so?
Fal. "Tis so.
Sil. Is't so? Why, then say, an old man can do somewhat.
Davy. An it please your worship, there's one Pistol come from the court with news.
Fal. From the court, let him come in.—
Fal. How now, Pistol?
Pist. God save you, Sir John!
Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.-Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in the realm.
Sil. By'r lady, I think 'a be; but‡ goodman Puff of Barton. Pist. Puff?
Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!—
Sir John, I am thy Pistol, and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price.
Fal. I pr'ythee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
I speak of Africa, and golden joys.
Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
Let king Cophetua know the truth thereof.
Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? And shall good news be baffled ?
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.
Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
Shal. Give me pardon, Sir; If, Sir, you come with news from the court, I take it, there is but two ways; either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, Sir, under the king, in some authority. Pist. Under which king, Bezonian ?§ speak, or die.
Shal. Under king Harry.
Pist. Harry the fourth ? or fifth?
Shal. Harry the fourth.
Pist. A foutra for thine office!
Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king;
Harry the fifth's the man. I speak the truth:
When Pistol lies, do this; and fig|| me, like
The bragging Spaniard.
Fal. What! is the old king dead?
Pist. As nail in door: The things I speak, are just.
* He who drank a great bumper on his knees to the health of his mistress was dubbed a knight for the evening.
+ San Domingo; it is part of a song in one of Nashe's plays.
Bisognoso, beggarly fellow.
Make figs at me (put the thumb between the fore and middle fingers).
Fal. Away, Bardolph, saddle my horse.-Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine.-Pistol, I will double-charge thee with dignities.
Bard. O joyful day!-I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.
Pist. What? I do bring good news?
Fal. Carry master Silence to bed.-Master Shallow, my lord. Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am fortune's steward. Get on thy boots; we'll ride all night:-O, sweet Pistol;-Away, Bardolph. [Exit BARD.]-Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and, withal, devise something, to do thyself good.-Boot, boot, master Shallow; I know, the young king is sick for me. Let us take any man's horses; the laws of England are at my commandment. Happy are they which have been my friends; and woe to my lord chief justice!
Pist. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! Where is the life that late I led, say they :
Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days.
SCENE IV-London. A street.
Enter BEADLES, dragging in Hostess QUICKLY and
Host. No, thou arrant knave: I would I might die, that I might have thee hanged: thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.
1 Bead. The constables have delivered her over to me; and she shall have whipping cheer enough, I warrant her: there hath been a man or two lately killed about her.
Dol. Nut-hook, nut-hook,* you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal; an the child I now go with, do miscarry, thou hadst better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain.
Host. O the lord, that Sir John were come, he would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry!
1 Bead. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushionst again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead, that you and Pistol beat among you.
Dol. I'll tell thee what, thou thin man in a censer! I will have you as soundly swinged for this, you blue-bottle rogue! § you filthy famished correctioner! if you be not swinged, I'll forswear half-kirtles.!!
1 Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.
Host. O, that right should thus overcome might! Well; of sufferance comes ease.
Dol. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.
Host. Ay; come, you starved blood-hound.
Dol. Goodman death! goodman bones!
Host. Thou atomy, thou!
Dol. Come, you thin thing! come, you rascal !
Bead. Very well.
†To stuff her out to counterfeit pregnancy.
The embossed figure in a censer.