Imatges de pÓgina
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Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to éxecutors pale

The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,-
That many things, having full reference
To one concent, may work contrariously:
As many arrows, loosed several ways,
Fly to one mark;

As many several ways meet in one town;
As many fresh streams run in one self sea ;
As many lines close in the dial's center;
So may a thousand actions, once afoot,
End in one purpose, and be all well borne
Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
Divide your happy England into four;
Whereof take you one quarter into France,
And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
If we, with thrice that power left at home,
Cannot defend our own door from the dog,
Let us be worried; and our nation lose
The name of hardiness, and policy.

K. Hen. Call in the messengers sent from the
Dauphin.

Exit an Attendant. The King as-
cends his Throne.

Now are we well resolv'd: and,by God's help;
And yours, the noble sinews of our power,—
France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
Or break it all to pieces: Or there we'll sit,
Ruling, in large and ample empery,
O'er France, and all her almost kingly dukedoms;
Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
Tombless, with no remembrance over them:
Either our history shall, with full mouth,
Speak freely of our acts; or else our grave,
Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless
mouth,

Not worship'd with a waxen epitaph.—

Enter Ambassadors of France.

Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for, we hear,
Your greeting is from him, not from the king.
Amb. May it please your majesty, to give us
leave

Freely to render what we have in charge;
Or shall we sparingly show you far off
The Dauphin's meaning, and our embassy?
K. Hen. We are no tyrant, but a Christian

king;

Unto whose grace our passion is as subject,
As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons:
Therefore, with frank and with uncurbed plain-

ness,

Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
Amb. Thus then, in few.

Your highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right
Of your great predecessor, king Edward the third.

In answer of which claim, the prince our master
Says, that you savour too much of your youth;
And bids you be advis'd, there's nought in France
That can be with a nimble galliard won;
You cannot revel into dukedoms there:
He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
Desires you, let the dukedoms that you claim,
Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
K. Hen. What treasure, uncle?

Exe. Tennis-balls, my liege.

K. Hen. We are glad the Dauphin is so plea sant with us;

His present, and your pains, we thank you for:
When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,
We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set,
Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard:
Tell him, he hath made match with such a
wrangler,

That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
With chaces. And we understand him well,
How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
Not measuring what use we made of them.
We never valu'd this poor seat of England;
And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
To barbarous licence; As 'tis ever common,
That men are merriest when they are from home.
But tell the Dauphin,—I will keep my state;
Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness,
When I do rouse me in my throne of France:
For that I have laid by my majesty,
And plodded like a man for working-days;
But I will rise there with so full a glory,
That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
And tell the pleasant prince,-this mock of his
Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul
Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful ven-
geance

That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows

Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands;

Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles

down ;

And some are yet ungotten, and unborn,
That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's

scorn.

But this lies all within the will of God,
To whom I do. appeal; And in whose name,
Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
To venge me as I may, and to put forth
My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
So, get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin,
His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
When thousands weep, more than did laugh at
it.-

Convey them with safe conduct.-Fare you well.
[Exeunt Ambassadors.
Exe. This was a merry message.
K. Hen. We hope to make the sender blush
Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hours
[Descends from his throne,

at it.

That may give furtherance to our expedition :
For we have now no thought in us but France;
Save those to God, that run before our business.
Therefore, let our proportions for these wars
Be soon collected; and all things thought upon,
That may, with reasonable swiftness, add

More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
Therefore, let every man now task his thought,
That this fair action may on foot be brought.
[Excunt.

Enter CHORUS.

ACT II.

Chor. Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man : They sell the pasture now, to buy the horse; Following the mirror of all Christian kings With winged heels, as English Mercuries. For now sits Expectation in the air; And hides a sword, from hilts unto the point, With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets, Promis'd to Harry, and his followers. The French, advis'd by good intelligence Of this most dreadful preparation, Shake in their fear; and with pale policy Seek to divert the English purposes. O England!-model to thy inward greatness, Like little body with a mighty heart,What might'st thou do, that honour would thee do,

Were all thy children kind and natural !
But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
With treacherous crowns: and three corrupted

men,

One, Richard earl of Cambridge; and the second,
Henry lord Scroop of Masham; and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey knight of Northumberland,-
Have, for the gilt of France, (O guilt, indeed!)
Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;
And by their hands this grace of kings must die,
(If hell and treason hold their promises,)
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on; and well digest
The abuse of distance, while we force a play.
The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
The king is set from London; and the scene
Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton:
There is the playhouse now, there must you sit:
And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
But, till the king come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. [Exit.

SCENE I.-The same. Eastcheap.

Enter NYм and BARDOLPH. Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.

Nym. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph. Bard. What, are ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

Nym. For my part, I care not: I say little; but when time shall serve, there shall be smiles; --but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and hold out mine iron: It is a simple one; but what though? it will toast cheese; and it will endure cold as another man's sword will: and there's the humour of it.

Bard. I will bestow a breakfast, to make you friends; and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France; let it be so, good corporal Nym.

Nym. 'Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the rendezvous of it.

Bard. It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly: and, certainly, she did you wrong; for you were troth-plight to her.

Nym. I cannot tell; things must be as they may: men may sleep, and they may have thei throats about them at that time; and, some say knives have edges. It must be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell

Enter PISTOL and Mrs QUICKLY.

Bard. Here comes ancient Pistol, and hi wife :-good corporal, be patient here.― How now, mine host Pistol?

Pist. Base tike, call'st thou me-host? Now, by this hand I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

Quick. No, by my troth, not long: for w cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gen tlewomen, that live honestly by the prick o their needles, but it will be thought we keep bawdy-house straight. [Nym draws his sword.] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn now O Lord! here's corporal Nym's-now shall w have wilful adultery and murder committed Good lieutenant Bardolph,-good corporal, off nothing here.

Nym. Pish!

Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick eared cur of Iceland!

Quick. Good corporal Nym, show the valo of a man, and put up thy sword.

Nym. Will you shog off? I would have yo [Sheathing his swor

solus.

Pist. Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile! The solus in thy most marvellous face; The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat, And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy; And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! I do retort the solus in thy bowels: For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, And flashing fire will follow.

Nym. I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to knock you indifferently well: If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk off, I would prick your guts a little, in good terms, as I may; and that's the humour of it.

Fist. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight!

The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; Therefore exhale. [Pistol and Nym draw. Bard. Hear me, hear me what I say :-he that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. Draws. Pist. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
Thy spirits are most tall.

Nym. I will cut thy throat one time or other, in fair terms; that is the humour of it.

Pist. Coupe le gorge, that's the word ?-I thee defy again.

Ohound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
No; to the spital go,

And from the powdering tub of infamy
Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
Doll Tear-sheet she by name, and her espouse:
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
For the only she; and-Pauca, there's enough.
Enter the Boy.

Boy. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master,—and you, hostess;-he is very sick, and would to bed.-Good Bardolph, put thy nose between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan: 'faith, he's very ill.

Bard. Away, you rogue. Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days: the king has killed his heart.-Good husband, come home presently. [Exeunt Mrs Quickly and Boy. Bard. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together; Why, the devil, should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?

Pist. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

Nym. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?

Pist. Base is the slave that pays.

Nym. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.

Pist. As manhood shall compound; push home. Bard. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will.

Pist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

Bard. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Pr'ythee, put up.

Nym. I shall have my eight shillings, I won of you at betting?

Pist. Anoble shalt thou have, and present pay;
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood:
I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me ;-
Is not this just ?-for I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.

Nym. I shall have my noble?
Pist. In cash most justly paid.
Nym. Well then, that's the humour of it.
Re-enter Mrs QUICKLY.

Quick. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John: Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

Nym. The king hath run bad humours on the knight, that's the even of it.

Pist. Nym, thou hast spoke the right; His heart is fracted, and corroborate.

Nym. The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; he passes some humours, and careers.

Pist. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Southampton. A council-chamber. Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORE

LAND.

Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors.

Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by. West. How smooth and even they do bear themselves!

As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith, and constant loyalty.

Bed. The king hath note of all that they intend by interception, which they dream not of.

Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with princely favours,

That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
His sovereign's life to death and treachery!
Trumpet sounds. Enter King HENRY, SCROOP,
CAMBRIDGE, GREY, Lords, and Attendants.

K. Hen. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.

My lord of Cambridge,-and my kind lord of Masham,

And you, my gentle knight,-give me your thoughts:

Think you not, that the powers we bear with us, Will cut their passage through the force of France;

Doing the execution, and the act,
For which we have in head assembled them?
Scroop. No doubt, my liege, if each man do
his best.

K. Hen. I doubt not that: since we are well
persuaded,

We carry not a heart with us from hence,
That grows not in a fair consent with ours;
Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd, and
lov'd,

Than is your majesty; there's not, I think, a
subject,

That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.
Grey. Even those, that were your father's
enemies,

Have steep'd their galls in honey; and do serve you
With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

K. Hen. We therefore have great cause of
thankfulness;

And shall forget the office of our hand,
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,
According to the weight and worthiness.
Scroop. So service shall with steeled sinews toil;
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
To do your grace incessant services.

K. Hen. We judge no less.-Uncle of Exeter,
Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person: we consider,
It was excess of wine that set him on ;
And, on his more advice, we pardon him.
Scroop. That's mercy, but too much security:
Let him be punish'd, sovereign; lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
K. Hen. O, let us yet be merciful.
Cam. So may your highness, and yet punish too.
Grey. Sir, you show great mercy, if you give
him life,

After the taste of much correction.

K. Hen. Alas, your too much love and care
of me

Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.
If little faults, proceeding on distemper,
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch

our eye,

When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,

Appear before us?-We'll yet enlarge that man, Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey,-in their dear care,

And tender preservation of our person,

There yours, lord Scroop of Masham ;-and, sir

knight,

Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours :—
Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.-
My lord of Westmoreland,-and uncle Exeter,
We will aboard to-night.-Why, how now, gen-
tlemen?

What see you in those papers, that you lose
Somuch complexion?-look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper.-Why, what read you
there,

That hath so cowarded and chas'd your blood
Out of appearance?

Cam. I do confess my fault;

And do submit me to your highness' mercy.
Grey. Scroop. To which we all appeal.

K. Hen. The mercy, that was quick in us but
late,

By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd :
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying them.-
See you, my princes, and my noble peers,
These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge
here,-

You know, how apt our love was, to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his honour; and this man
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd,
And sworn unto the practices of France,
To kill us here in Hampton: to the which,
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is,-hath likewise sworn.-
But O!

What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop; thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature!
Thou, that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost might'st have coin'd me into gold,
Would'st thou have practis'd on me for thy use?
May it be possible, that foreign hire

Could out of thee extract one spark of evil,
That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange,
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black from white, my eye will scarcely see it.
Treason, and murder, ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause,
That admiration did not whoop at them:
But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason, and on murder:
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was,
That wrought upon thee so preposterously,

Would have him punish'd. And now to our H'ath got the voice in hell for excellence:

French causes;

Who are the late commissioners?

Cam. I one, my lord;

Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.
Scroop. So did you me, my liege.
Grey. And me, my royal sovereign.

K. Hen. Then, Richard, earl of Cambridge,

there is yours;—

And other devils, that suggest by treasons,
Do botch and bungle up damnation

With patches, colours, and with forms being
fetch'd

up,

From glistering semblances of piety;
But he, that temper'd thee, bade thee stand
Gave thee no instance why thou should'st do

treason,

Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
If that same dæmon, that hath gull'd thee thus,
Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
He might return to vasty Tartar back,
And tell the legions-I can never win
A soul so easy as that Englishman's.
O, how hast thou with jealousy infected
The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?
Why, so didst thou: Seem they grave and learn-
ed?

Why, so didst thou: Come they of noble family?
Why, so didst thou: Seem they religious?
Why, so didst thou: Or are they spare in diet;
Free from gross passion, or of mirth, or anger;
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood;
Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement;
Not working with the eye, without the ear,
And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither?
Such, and so finely bolted, didst thou seem:
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
To mark the full-fraught man, and best endued,
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man.-Their faults are open,
Arrest them to the answer of the law;-
And God acquit them of their practices!
Ere. I arrest thee of high treason, by the
name of Richard earl of Cambridge.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry lord Scroop of Masham.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland. Scroop. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd;

And I repent my fault, more than my death;
Which I beseech your highness to forgive,
Although my body pay the price of it.
Cam. For me, the gold of France did not
seduce ;

Although I did admit it as a motive,
The sooner to effect what I intended:
But God be thanked for prevention;
Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,
Beseeching God, and you, to pardon me.
Grey. Never did faithful subject more rejoice
At the discovery of most dangerous treason,
Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself,
Prevented from a damned enterprize:
My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
K. Hen. God quit you in his mercy! Hear
your sentence.

You have conspir'd against our royal person,
Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his

coffers

Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,

His princes and his peers to servitude,
His subjects to oppression and contempt,
And his whole kingdom unto desolation.
Touching our person, seek we no revenge;
But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
Whose ruin you three sought, that to her laws

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We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence,
Poor miserable wretches, to your death:
The taste whereof, God, of his mercy, give you
Patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear offences !-Bear them hence.
[Exeunt Conspirators, guarded.
Now, lords, for France; the enterprize whereof
Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war;
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason, lurking in our way,
To hinder our beginnings, we doubt not now,
But every rub is smoothed on our way.
Then, forth, dear countrymen; let us deliver
Our puissance into the hand of God,
Putting it straight in expedition.
Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance :
No king of England, if not king of France.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-London. Mrs Quickly's house in Eastcheap.

Enter PISTOL, Mrs QUICKLY, NYM, BAR-
DOLPH, and Boy.

Quick. Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.

Pist. No; for my manly heart doth yearn.Bardolph, be blithe;-Ným, rouse thy vaunting veins;

Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,

And we must yearn therefore.

Bard. 'Would, I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven, or in hell!

Quick. Nay, sure, he's not in hell; he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, e'en at turning o'the tide for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, sir John? quoth I: what, man! be of good cheer. So 'a cried out-God, God, God! three or four times: now I, to comfort him, bid him, 'a should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet: So, 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed, and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and so upward, and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

Nym. They say, he cried out of sack.
Quick. Ay, that 'a did.
Bard. And of women.

Quick. Nay, that 'a did not.

Boy. Yes, that 'a did; and said, they were devils incarnate.

Quick. 'A could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked.

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