King.
Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them: make good speed. [Exit Page. ^note
How many thousand ^note of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep ^note,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets ^note stretching thee,
And hush'd ^note with buzzing night-flies ^note to thy slumber,
Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
Under the ^note canopies of costly state ^note,
And lull'd with sound ^note of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch
A watch-case or ^note a common 'larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast ^note
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows ^note by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them

With deafening ^note clamour ^note in the slippery clouds ^note,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy ^note repose
To the wet sea-boy ^note in an hour so rude;
And in the calmest and most stillest ^note night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a ^note king? Then happy low, lie down! ^note
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Enter ^note Warwick and Surrey. ^note

War.
Many good morrows to your majesty!

King.
Is it good ^note morrow, lords?

War.
'Tis one o'clock, and past.

King.
Why, then, good morrow to you all, ^note my lords.
Have you read o'er the letters ^note that I sent you?

War.
We have, my liege.

King.
Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.

War.
It is but as a body yet ^note distemper'd;
Which to his former strength may be restored
With good advice and little medicine:
My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd ^note.

King.
O God ^note! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times

Make mountains level, and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea! and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean
Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock ^note,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth, viewing his progress through ^note,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
Would shut the book, and sit him ^note down and die. ^note
'Tis not ten years gone ^{note note}
Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends ^note,
Did feast together, and in two years ^note after
Were they at wars: it is but eight years since
This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foot;
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But ^note which of you was by—
You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember— [To Warwick.
When Richard, with his eye brimful ^note of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy?
‘Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne;’
Though then, God ^note knows, I had no such intent,
But that necessity so bow'd the state,
That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss:
‘The time shall come,’ thus did he follow it,
‘The time will ^note come, that foul sin, gathering head,

Shall break into corruption ^note:’ so went on,
Foretelling this same time's condition,
And the division of our amity.

War.
There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature ^note of the times deceased;
The which observed, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which ^note in their seeds
And weak beginnings ^note lie intreasured.
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And by the necessary form of this ^note
King Richard might create a perfect guess
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
Which should not find a ground to root upon,
Unless on you.

King.
Are these things then ^note necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessities ^note:
And that same word even now cries out on us:
They say the bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand strong.

War.
It cannot be, my lord ^note;
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the fear'd. Please it your grace
To go to bed. Upon my soul ^note, my lord,
The powers that you already have sent forth
Shall bring ^note this prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I have received
A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill;
And these unseason'd hours perforce must add
Unto your sickness.

K. Hen.
I will take your counsel:
And were these inward wars once out of hand,
We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene II. [Footnote: Gloucestershire ^note. Before Justice Shallow's house. Enter ^note Shallow and Silence, meeting; Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf, a Servant or two with them.

Shal.

Come on, come on, come on, sir ^note; give me your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir ^note: an early stirrer, by the rood! And how doth my good cousin Silence ^note?

Sil.

Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.

Shal.

And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?

Sil.

Alas, a black ousel ^note, cousin Shallow!

Shal.

By yea and nay ^note, sir, I dare say my cousin William is become a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not?

Sil.

Indeed, sir, to my cost.

Shal.

A' must, then, to the inns o' ^note court shortly: I was once of Clement's Inn, where I think they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Sil.

You were called ‘lusty Shallow’ then, cousin.

Shal.

By the mass ^note, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing indeed too ^note, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes ^note, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, a Cotswold man ^note; you had not four ^note such swinge-bucklers in all the inns

o' ^notecourt again: and I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas ^note were and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy ^note, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Sil.

This Sir John, cousin ^note, that comes hither anon about soldiers?

Shal.

The same Sir John, the very same. I see ^note him break Skogan's ^note head at the court-gate, when a'was was a crack not thus high: and the very same day did I ^note fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu ^note, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of my ^note old acquaintance are dead!

Sil.

We shall all follow, cousin.

Shal.

Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure: death, as the Psalmist saith ^note, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford ^note fair?

Sil.

By my troth ^note, I was not there.

Shal.

Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?

Sil.

Dead, sir.

Shal.

Jesu, Jesu, dead! ^note a' drew a good bow; and dead! a' shot a fine shoot: John a Gaunt ^note loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! a' would have clapped i' the clout at twelve score; and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen ^note and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see. How a score of ewes now?

Sil.

Thereafter as they be: a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.

Shal.

And is old Double dead?

Sil.

Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.

Bard.

Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I beseech ^note you, which is Justice Shallow?

Shal.

I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this county ^note, and one ^note of the king's justices of the peace: what is your good ^note pleasure with me?

Bard.

My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven ^note, and a most gallant leader.

Shal.

He greets me well, sir. ^note I knew him a good backsword man. How doth the good knight? may I ask how my lady his wife doth?

Bard.

Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated ^note than with a wife.

Shal.

It is well said, in faith ^note, sir; and it is well said indeed too. Better accommodated ^note! it is good; yea, indeed, is it: good phrases are surely ^note, and ever were, very ^note commendable. Accommodated ^note! it comes of ‘accommodo:’ very good; a good phrase.

Bard.

Pardon me ^note, sir; I have heard the word. Phrase call you it? by this good ^note day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain the word with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command, by heaven ^note. Accommodated ^note; that is, when a man is, as they say,

accommodated ^note; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought ^note to be accommodated ^note; which is an excellent thing.

Shal.

It is very just.

Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good ^note hand, give me your worship's good hand: by my troth ^note, you like ^note well and bear your years very well: welcome, good Sir John.

Fal.

I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow: Master Surecard ^note, as I think?

Shal.

No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence ^note, in commission with me.

Fal.

Good Master Silence ^note, it well befits you should be of the peace.

Sil.

Your good worship is welcome.

Fal.

Fie! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have ^note you provided me here half a dozen ^note sufficient men?

Shal.

Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?

Fal.

Let me see them, I beseech you.

Shal.

Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll? Let me see ^note, let me see, let me see. So ^note, so, so, so, so, so, so: yea, marry, sir: Ralph ^note Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?

Moul.

Here, an't ^note please you.

Shal.

What think you, Sir John? a good-limbed fellow; young, strong, and of good friends.

Fal.

Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul.

Yea, an't ^note please you.

Fal.

'Tis the more time thou wert used.

Shal.

Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith ^note! things that are mouldy lack use: very singular good! in faith ^note, well said, Sir John; very well said.

Fal.

Prick him ^note.

Moul.

I was pricked well enough before, an ^note you could have let me alone: my old dame will be undone now, for one to do her husbandry and her drudgery: you need not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter to go out than I.

Fal.

Go to: peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.

Moul.

Spent!

Shal.

Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside: know you where you are? For the other ^note, Sir John: let me see: Simon ^note Shadow!

Fal.

Yea ^note, marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier.

Shal.

Where's Shadow?

Shad.

Here, sir.

Fal.

Shadow, whose son art thou?

Shad.

My mother's son, sir.

Fal.

Thy mother's son! like enough, and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: it is often so, indeed; but much of the father's substance! ^note

Shal.

Do you like him, Sir John?

Fal.

Shadow will serve for summer ^note; prick him, for we have a number of shadows to fill ^note up the muster-book.

Shal.

Thomas Wart!

Fal.

Where's he?

Wart.

Here, sir.

Fal.

Is thy name Wart?

Wart.

Yea, sir.

Fal.

Thou art a very ragged wart.

Shal.

Shall I prick him down ^note, Sir John?

Fal.

It were superfluous; for his ^note apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins: prick him no more.

Shal.

Ha, ha, ha! you can do it, sir; you can do it: I commend you well. Francis Feeble!

Fee.

Here, sir.

Fal.

What trade art thou, Feeble?

Fee.

A woman's tailor, sir.

Shal.

Shall I prick him, sir?

Fal.

You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he'ld ha' ^note pricked you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?

Fee.

I will do my good will, sir: you can have no more.

Fal.

Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. Prick the woman's tailor: well ^note, Master Shallow; deep, Master Shallow.

Fee.

I would Wart might have gone, sir.

Fal.

I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a ^note private soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands: let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.

Fee.

It shall suffice, sir ^note.

Fal.

I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next ^note?

Shal.

Peter Bullcalf o' the green!

Fal.

Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf.

Bull.

Here, sir.

Fal.

'Fore God ^note, a likely fellow! Come, prick me ^note Bullcalf till he roar again.

Bull.

O Lord ^note! good my lord captain,—

Fal.

What, dost thou roar before thou art ^note pricked?

Bull.

O Lord ^note, sir! I am a diseased man.

Fal.

What disease hast thou?

Bull.

A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught with ringing in the king's affairs upon his coronation-day, sir.

Fal.

Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown; we will have away thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is here all?

Shal.

Here ^note is two ^note more called than your number; you must have but four here, sir: and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner.

Fal.

Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my ^note troth, Master Shallow.

Shal.

O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint George's field ^note?

Fal.

No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more of that. ^note

Shal.

Ha! 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?

Fal.

She lives, Master Shallow.

Shal.

She never could ^note away with me.

Fal.

Never, never; she would always say she could not abide Master Shallow.

Shal.

By the mass ^note, I could anger her to the heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?

Fal.

Old, old, Master Shallow.

Shal.

Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be

old; certain she's old; and had Robin Nightwork by old Nightwork before I came to ^note Clement's Inn ^note.

Sil.

That's fifty five year ^note ago.

Shal.

Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this knight and I have seen! Ha, Sir John, said I well?

Fal.

We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.

Shal.

That we have ^note, that we have, that we have; in faith, Sir John, we have: our watch-word ^note was ‘Hem boys!’ Come, let's to dinner ^note; come, let's to dinner: Jesus ^note, the days that we have seen! Come, come.

Bull.

Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend; and here's four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go: and yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care; but rather, because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my friends; else, sir, I did not care, for mine own part, so much.

Bard.

Go to; stand aside.

Moul.

And, good master corporal captain, for my old ^note dame's sake, stand my friend: she has ^note nobody to do any thing about her when I am gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself: you shall have forty, sir ^note.

Bard.

Go to; stand aside.

Fee.

By my troth ^note, I care not; a man can die but once: we owe God ^note a death: I'll ne'er ^note bear a base mind: an't ^note

be my destiny, so; an't ^note be not, so: no man is too good to serve's ^note prince; and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.

Bard.

Well said; thou'rt ^note a good fellow.

Fee.

Faith, I'll ^note bear no base mind.