Shal.

^{1 note}

Fal.

You must excuse me, master Robert Shallow.

Shal.

^{2 note}I will not excuse you; you shall not be excus'd; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excus'd.—Why, Davy!

Davy.

Here, sir.

Shal.

Davy, Davy, Davy,—let me see, Davy; let me see:—yea, marry, William cook^{3 note}


, bid him come hither.—Sir John, you shall not be excus'd.

Davy.

Marry, sir, thus;—^{4 note}those precepts cannot be serv'd: and, again, sir,—Shall we sow the headland with wheat?

Shal.

With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook;—Are there no young pigeons?

Davy.

Yes, sir.—Here is now the smith's note, for shoeing, and plough-irons.

Shal.

Let it be cast, and paid:—sir John, you shall not be excus'd.

Davy.

Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had:—And, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?

Shal.

He shall answer it:—Some pigeons, Davy; a couple of short-legg'd hens; a joint of mutton; and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.

Davy.

Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?

Shal.

Yes, Davy. I will use him well; A friend i' the court is better than a penny in purse^{5 note}


. Use his

men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.

Davy.

No worse than they are back-bitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.

Shal.

Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, Davy.

Davy.

I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes of the hill.

Shal.

There are many complaints, Davy, against that Visor; that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.

Davy.

I grant your worship, that he is a knave, sir: but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have serv'd your worship truly, sir, these eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanc'd.

Shal.

Go to; I say, he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy. Where are you, sir John? Come, off with your boots.—Give me your hand, master Bardolph.

Bard.

I am glad to see your worship.

Shal.

I thank thee with all my heart, kind master Bardolph:—and welcome, my tall fellow. [to the page.] Come, sir John.

Fal.

I'll follow you, good master Robert Shallow. Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt Shallow, Bardolph, &c.] —If I were saw'd into quantities, I should make four dozen of such ^{6 note}bearded hermit's-staves as

master Shallow^{7 note}

Shal. [within]

Sir John!

Fal.

I come, master Shallow; I come, master Shallow.

SCENE II. The court, in London. Enter the earl of Warwick, and the lord Chief Justice.

War.
How now, my lord chief justice? whither away?

Ch. Just.
How doth the king?

War.
Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.

Ch. Just.
I hope, not dead.

War.
He's walk'd the way of nature;
And, to our purposes, he lives no more.

Ch. Just.
I would, his majesty had call'd me with him:
The service that I truly did his life,
Hath left me open to all injuries.

War.
Indeed, I think, the young king loves you not.

Ch. Just.
I know, he doth not; and do arm myself,
To welcome the condition of the time;
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. Enter lord John of Lancaster, Gloster, and Clarence, &c..

War.
Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry:—
O, that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places,
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

Ch. Just.
Alas! I fear, all will be overturn'd.

Lan.
Good morrow, cousin Warwick.

Glo. Cla.
Good morrow, cousin.

Lan.
We meet like men that had forgot to speak.

War.
We do remember; but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

Lan.
Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

Ch. Just.
Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!

Glo.
O, good my lord, you have lost a friend, indeed:
And I dare swear, you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow; it is, sure, your own.

Lan.
Though no man be assur'd what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation:
I am the sorrier; 'would, 'twere otherwise.

Cla.
Well, you must now speak sir John Falstaff fair;
Which swims against your stream of quality.

Ch. Just.
Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by the impartial conduct^{1 note} of my soul;
And never shall you see, that I will beg
^{2 note}

War.
Here comes the prince.

Enter King Henry.

Ch. Just.
Good morrow; and heaven save your majesty!

K. Henry.
This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.—
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear;
This is the English, ^{3 note}not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry, Harry:—Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, to speak truth, it very well becomes you;
Sorrow so royally in you appears,
That I will deeply put the fashion on,
And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad:
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burthen laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,
I'll be your father and your brother too;
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.
Yet weep, that Harry's dead; and so will I:
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears,
By number, into hours of happiness.

Lan. &c.
We hope no other from your majesty.

K. Henry.
You all look strangely on me:—and you most; [To the Ch. Just.
You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

Ch. Just.
I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

K. Henry.
No! How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison

The immediate heir of England! ^{4 note}Was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Just.
I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me:
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment^{5 note}

Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,

And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought;
To pluck down justice from your awful bench;
^{6 note}To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person:
Nay, more; to spurn at your most royal image,
^{7 note}And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father, and propose a son^{8 note}
:
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdained;
And then imagine me taking your part,
And, in your power, so silencing your son^{9 note}
:—
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak ^{1 note}in your state,—
What I have done, that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

K. Henry.
You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore still bear the balance, and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may encrease,
'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;—
Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
That dares do justice on my proper son:
And not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.—^{2 note}


You did commit me:
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this ^{3 note}remembrance,—That you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand;
You shall be as a father to my youth:
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practis'd, wise directions.—
And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you;—
^{4 note}

And with his spirit ^{5 note}sadly I survive,
To mock the expectations of the world;
To frustrate prophecies; and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity, 'till now:
Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea;
Where it shall mingle with ^{6 note}

And (heaven consigning to my good intents)
No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say,—
Heaven shorten Harry's happy life one day. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Shallow's seat in Glostershire. 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 ^{1 note}

Fal.

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 serving-man, and your husband-man.

Shal.

A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, sir John.—By the mass^{2 note}



, I have drank too much sack at supper:—a good varlet. Now sit down, now sit down:—come, cousin.

Sil.

Ah, sirrah! quoth-a,—