The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 178
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Encircled you to hear with reverence
Your exposition on the holy text
Than now to see you here an iron man,
Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
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That man that sits within a monarch’s heart,
And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach
In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord Bishop,
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It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
How deep you were within the books of God,
To us the speaker in his parliament,
To us th’imagin’d voice of God himself,
The very opener and intelligencer
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Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven,
And our dull workings? O, who shall believe
But you misuse the reverence of your place,
Employ the countenance and grace of heav’n
As a false favourite doth his prince’s name,
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In deeds dishonourable? You have ta’en up,
Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
The subjects of his substitute, my father,
And both against the peace of heaven and him
Have here up-swarm’d them.
ARCHBISHOP Good my Lord of Lancaster,
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I am not here against your father’s peace;
But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,
The time misorder’d doth, in common sense,
Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form
To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace
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The parcels and particulars of our grief,
The which hath been with scorn shov’d from the court,
Whereon this Hydra son of war is born,
Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm’d asleep
With grant of our most just and right desires,
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And true obedience, of this madness cur’d,
Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.
MOWBRAY If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
To the last man.
HASTINGS And though we here fall down,
We have supplies to second our attempt:
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If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;
And so success of mischief shall be born,
And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up
Whiles England shall have generation.
LANCASTER
You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,
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To sound the bottom of the after-times.
WESTMORELAND
Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly
How far forth you do like their articles.
LANCASTER I like them all, and do allow them well,
And swear here, by the honour of my blood,
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My father’s purposes have been mistook,
And some about him have too lavishly
Wrested his meaning and authority.
My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress’d;
Upon my soul they shall. If this may please you,
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Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
As we will ours; and here between the armies
Let’s drink together friendly and embrace,
That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
Of our restored love and amity.
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ARCHBISHOP
I take your princely word for these redresses.
LANCASTER I give it you, and will maintain my word;
And thereupon I drink unto your Grace.
HASTINGS Go, captain, and deliver to the army
This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part.
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I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain.
Exit officer.
ARCHBISHOP To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.
WESTMORELAND
I pledge your Grace; and if you knew what pains
I have bestow’d to breed this present peace
You would drink freely; but my love to ye
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Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
ARCHBISHOP I do not doubt you.
WESTMORELAND I am glad of it.
Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
MOWBRAY You wish me health in very happy season,
For I am on the sudden something ill.
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ARCHBISHOP Against ill chances men are ever merry,
But heaviness foreruns the good event.
WESTMORELAND
Therefore be merry, coz, since sudden sorrow
Serves to say thus, ‘Some good thing comes tomorrow’.
ARCHBISHOP Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.
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MOWBRAY
So much the worse, if your own rule be true.
[Shouts within.]
LANCASTER
The word of peace is render’d. Hark how they shout!
MOWBRAY This had been cheerful after victory.
ARCHBISHOP A peace is of the nature of a conquest,
For then both parties nobly are subdu’d,
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And neither party loser.
LANCASTER Go, my lord,
And let our army be discharged too.
Exit Westmoreland.
And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains
March by us, that we may peruse the men
We should have cop’d withal.
ARCHBISHOP Go, good Lord Hastings,
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And, ere they be dismiss’d, let them march by.
Exit Hastings.
LANCASTER I trust, lords, we shall lie tonight together.
Enter WESTMORELAND.
Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
WESTMORELAND
The leaders, having charge from you to stand,
Will not go off until they hear you speak.
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LANCASTER They know their duties.
Enter HASTINGS.
HASTINGS My lord, our army is dispers’d already.
Like youthful steers unyok’d they take their courses
East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,
Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.
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WESTMORELAND
Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which
I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason;
And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,
Of capital treason I attach you both.
MOWBRAY Is this proceeding just and honourable?
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WESTMORELAND Is your assembly so?
ARCHBISHOP Will you thus break your faith?
LANCASTER I pawn’d thee none.
I promis’d you redress of these same grievances
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
I will perform with a most Christian care.
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But, for you rebels, look to taste the due
Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter’d stray:
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God, and not we, hath safely fought today.
Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
Treason’s true bed and yielder-up of breath. Exeunt.
4.3 Alarum. Excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLEVILE, meeting.
FALSTAFF What’s your name, sir? Of what condition are
you, and of what place?
COLEVILE I am a
knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of
the Dale.
FALSTAFF Well then, Colevile is your name, a knight is
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your degree, and your place the Dale. Colevile shall be
still your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon
your place – a place deep enough; so shall you be still
Colevile of the Dale.
COLEVILE Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
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FALSTAFF As good a man as he, sir, whoe’er I am. Do ye
yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they
are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy
death; therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do
observance to my mercy.
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COLEVILE [Kneels.] I think you are Sir John Falstaff,
and in that thought yield me.
FALSTAFF I have a whole school of tongues in this belly
of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other
word but my name. And I had but a belly of any
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indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in
Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.
Here comes our general.
Retreat sounded. Enter PRINCE JOHN, WESTMORELAND, BLUNT and others.
LANCASTER The heat is past; follow no further now.
Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
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Exit Westmoreland.
Now Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
When everything is ended, then you come.
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows’ back.
FALSTAFF I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be
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thus. I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the
reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow,
or a bullet? Have I in my poor and old motion the
expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the
very extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered
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nine score and odd posts; and here, travel-tainted as I
am, have in my pure and immaculate valour taken Sir
John Colevile of the Dale, a most furious knight and
valorous enemy. But what of that? He saw me, and
yielded; that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed
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fellow of Rome, three words, ‘I came, saw, and
overcame’.
LANCASTER It was more of his courtesy than your
deserving.
FALSTAFF I know not: here he is, and here I yield him;
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and I beseech your Grace, let it be booked with the
rest of this day’s deeds, or by the Lord I will have it in
a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the
top on’t, Colevile kissing my foot: to the which course
if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt
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twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of fame
o’ershine you as much as the full moon doth the
cinders of the element, which show like pins’ heads to
her, believe not the word of the noble. Therefore let
me have right, and let desert mount.
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LANCASTER Thine’s too heavy to mount.
FALSTAFF Let it shine, then.
LANCASTER Thine’s too thick to shine.
FALSTAFF Let it do something, my good lord, that may
do me good, and call it what you will.
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LANCASTER Is thy name Colevile?
COLEVILE It is, my lord.
LANCASTER A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.
FALSTAFF And a famous true subject took him.
COLEVILE I am, my lord, but as my betters are
That led me hither. Had they been rul’d by me,
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You should have won them dearer than you have.
FALSTAFF I know not how they sold themselves, but
thou like a kind fellow gavest thyself away gratis, and
I thank thee for thee.
Enter WESTMORELAND.
LANCASTER Now, have you left pursuit?
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WESTMORELAND Retreat is made and execution stay’d.
LANCASTER Send Colevile with his confederates
To York, to present execution.
Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure.
Exit Blunt with Colevile, guarded.
And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords;
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I hear the King my father is sore sick.
Our news shall go before us to his Majesty,
Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him,