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Shal. Go to; I have spoke, at a word. Fare you well.
[Exeúnt SHALLOW and SILENCE. Fal. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. On, Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt BARDOLPH, Recruits, &c.] As I return, I will fetch off these justices : I do see the bottom of justice Shallow. How subject we old men are to this vice of lying ! This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull-street'; and every third word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement’s-inn, like a man made after supper
of cheese-paring: he was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible: he was the very Genius of famine ; he came ever in the rearward of the fashion; and sung those tunes to the huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware—they were his fancies, or his good-nights 3. And now is this Vice's dagger4 become a squire; and talks as familiarly of John of Gaunt, as if he had been sworn brother to him: and I'll be sworn he never saw him but once in the Tilt-yard ; and then he burst his head, for crouding among the marshal's men.
I saw it; and told John of Gaunt, he beat his own names: for you might have truss'd him, and all his apparel, into an eel-skin; the case of a treble haut-boy was a mansion for him, a court; and now has he land and beeves. Well; I will be acquainted with him, if I return: and it shall go hard, but I will make him a philosopher's stone to me : If the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason, in the law of nature, but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and there an end.
[Exit. 2 In Clerkenwell. 3 Titles of little poems.
4 A wooden dagger like that used by the modern Harlequin.
5 Gaunt is thin, slender.
ACT THE FOURTH.
A Forest in Yorkshire.
Enter the Archbishop of YORK, MOWBRAY,
HASTINGS, and others.
Hast. We have sent forth already.
'Tis well done.
your attempts may overlive the hazard,
Enter a Messenger.
Now, what news ?
6 Be suitable.
And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number
them Let us sway on, and face them in the field.
Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us here? Mowb. I think, it is my lord of Westmoreland.
West. Health and fair greeting from our general, The prince, lord John and duke of Lancaster.
Arch. Say on, my lord of Westmoreland in peace; What doth concern your coming ? West.
Then, my lord, Unto your grace do I in chief address The substance of my speech. If that rebellion Came like itself, in base and abject routs, Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage, And countenanc'd by boys, and beggary ; I say, if vile commotion so appear'd, In his true, native, and most proper shape, You, reverend father, and these noble lords, Had not been here, to dress the ugly form Of base and bloody insurrection With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop, Whose see is by a civil peace
maintain'd; Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch’d; Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor’d; Whose white investments figure innocence, The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself, Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace, Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war ? Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, Your pens to lances; and your tongue divine To a loud trumpet, and a point of war? Arch. Wherefore do l this? -so. the question
stands. Briefly to this end : We are all diseas'd ;
And, with our surfeiting, and wanton hours,
veins of life. Hear me more plainly. I have in equal balance justly weigh'd What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we
suffer, And find our griefs? heavier than our offences. We see which way the stream of time doth run, And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere By the rough torrent of occasion : And have the summary of all our griefs, When time shall serve, to show in articles; Which, long ere this, we offer'd to the king, And might by no suit gain our audience : When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, We are denied access unto his person Even by those men that most have done us wrong. The dangers of the days but newly gone, (Whose memory is written on the earth With yet-appearing blood,) and the examples Of every minute's instance, (present now,) Have put us in these ill-beseeming arms: Not to break peace, or any branch of it; But to establish here a peace indeed, Concurring both in name and quality.
West. When ever yet was your appeal denied ? Wherein have you been galled by the king ? What peer
hath been suborn'd to grate on you ?
you should seal this lawless bloody book Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine, And consecrate commotion's bitter edge ?
Arch. My brother general, the commonwealth, I make my quarrel in particular. West. There is no need of
such redress; Or, if there were, it not belongs to you.
Mowb. Why not to him, in part; and to us all, That feel the bruises of the days before ; And suffer the condition of these times To lay a heavy and unequal hand Upon our honours ? West.
O my good lord Mowbray. Construe the times to their necessities, And you shall say indeed, - it is the time, And not the king, that doth you injuries. Yet, for
your part, it not appears to me,
should have an inch of any ground
staid My father from the breast of Bolingbroke, 0, when the king did throw his warder down, His own life hung upon the staff he threw :