And in your power soft silencing your son.
After this cold considerance sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state
What I have done that misbecame my place,
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My person, or my liege’s sovereignty.
KING You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well.
Therefore still bear the balance and the sword;
And I do wish your honours may increase
Till you do live to see a son of mine
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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
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That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.’ You did commit me:
For which I do commit into your hand
Th’unstained sword that you have us’d to bear,
With this remembrance – that you use the same
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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
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To your well-practis’d wise directions.
And Princes all, believe me, I beseech you,
My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his spirits sadly I survive
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To mock the expectation 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.
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Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament,
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel
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That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best-govern’d nation;
That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us;
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
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Our coronation done, we will accite,
As I before remember’d, all our state:
And, God consigning to my good intents,
No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,
God shorten Harry’s happy life one day! Exeunt.
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5.3 Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, DAVY, BARDOLPH and page.
SHALLOW Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an
arbour, we will eat a last year’s pippin of mine own
graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth – come,
cousin Silence – and then to bed.
FALSTAFF Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling,
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and a rich.
SHALLOW Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars
all, Sir John – marry, good air. Spread, Davy, spread,
Davy, well said, Davy.
FALSTAFF This Davy serves you for good uses; he is
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your serving-man, and your husband.
SHALLOW A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good
varlet, Sir John – by the mass, I have drunk too much
sack at supper – a good varlet. Now sit down, now sit
down – come, cousin.
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SILENCE Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall
[Sings.]
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
And praise God for the merry year,
When flesh is cheap and females dear,
And lusty lads roam here and there, So merrily,
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And ever among so merrily.
FALSTAFF There’s a merry heart, good Master Silence!
I’ll give you a health for that anon.
SHALLOW Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
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DAVY Sweet sir, sit – I’ll be with you anon – Most sweet
sir, sit; master page, good master page, sit. Proface!
What you want in meat, we’ll have in drink; but you
must bear; the heart’s all. Exit.
SALLOW Be merry, Master Bardolph, and my little soldier there, be merry.
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SILENCE [Sings.]
Be merry, be merry, my wife has all,
For women are shrews, both short and tall.
’Tis merry in hall, when beards wags all,
And welcome merry Shrove-tide! Be merry, be merry.
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FALSTAFF I did not think Master Silence had been a
man of this mettle.
SILENCE Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere
now.
Enter DAVY.
DAVY [to Bardolph] There’s a dish of leather-coats for
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you.
SHALLOW Davy!
DAVY Your worship? I’ll be with you straight. [to
Bardolph] A cup of wine, sir?
SILENCE [Sings.]
A cup of wine that’s brisk and fine,
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And drink unto thee, leman mine,
And a merry heart lives long-a.
FALSTAFF Well said, Master Silence.
SILENCE And we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet
o’th’ night.
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FALSTAFF Health and long life to you, Master Silence.
SILENCE [Sings.]
Fill the cup, and let it come,
I’ll pledge you a mile to th’ bottom.
SHALLOW Honest Bardolph, welcome! If thou want’st
anything, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. [to the
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page] Welcome, my little tiny thief, and welcome
indeed, too! I’ll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all
the cabileros about London.
DAVY I hope to see London once ere I die.
BARDOLPH And I might see you there, Davy, –
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SHALLOW By the mass, you’ll crack a quart together –
ha! will you not, Master Bardolph?
BARDOLPH Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
SHALLOW By God’s liggens, I thank thee; the knave will
stick by thee, I can assure thee that. A will not out, a;
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’tis true bred!
BARDOLPH And I’ll stick by him, sir.
SHALLOW Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing!
Be merry! [One knocks at door.] Look who’s at door
there, ho! Who knocks? Exit Davy.
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FALSTAFF [to Silence, seeing him take off a bumper] Why,
now you have done me right.
SILENCE [Sings.] Do me right,
And dub me knight:
Samingo.
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Is’t not so?
FALSTAFF ’Tis so.
SILENCE Is’t so? Why then, say an old man can do
somewhat.
Enter DAVY.
DAVY And’t please your worship, there’s one Pistol
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come from the court with news.
FALSTAFF From the court? Let him come in.
Enter PISTOL.
How now, Pistol?
PISTOL Sir John, God save you!
FALSTAFF What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
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PISTOL Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.
Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in
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this realm.
SILENCE By’r lady, I think a be, but goodman Puff of
Barson.
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PISTOL Puff?
Puff i’ thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee,
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
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And golden times, and happy news of price.
FALSTAFF I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of
this world.
PISTOL A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
I speak of Africa and golden joys.
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FALSTAFF
O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
SILENCE [Sings.] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.
PISTOL Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
And shall good news be baffled?
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Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.
SHALLOW Honest gentleman, I know not your
breeding.
PISTOL Why then, lament therefor.
SHALLOW Give me pardon, sir; if, sir, you come with
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news from the court, I take it there’s but two ways,
either to utter them or conceal them. I am, sir, under
the King, in some authority.
PISTOL Under which king, Besonian? Speak, or die.
SHALLOW Under King Harry.
PISTOL Harry the Fourth, or Fifth?
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SHALLOW Harry the Fourth.
PISTOL A foutre for thine office!
Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King;
Harry the Fifth’s the man: I speak the truth.
When Pistol lies, do this, and fig me, like
The bragging Spaniard.
FALSTAFF What, is the old King dead?
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PISTOL As nail in door! The things I speak are just.
FALSTAFF Away, Bardolph, saddle my horse. Master
Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the
land, ’tis thine. Pistol, I will double-charge thee with
dignities.
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BARDOLPH O joyful day!
I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.
PISTOL What, I do bring good news?
FALSTAFF Carry Master Silence to bed. Master
Shallow, my Lord Shallow – be what thou wilt; I am
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Fortune’s steward! Get on thy boots, we’ll ride all
night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph!
Exit Bardolph.
Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise
something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master
Shallow! I know the young King is sick for me. Let us
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take any man’s horses – the laws of England are at my
commandment. Blessed are they that have been my
friends, and woe to my Lord Chief Justice!
PISTOL Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
‘Where is the life that late I led?’ say they:
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Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt.
5.4 Enter Beadles, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET.
HOSTESS No, thou arrant knave! I would to God that I
might die, that I might have thee hanged. Thou hast
drawn my shoulder out of joint.
1 BEADLE The constables have delivered her over to me,
and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant
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her; there hath been a man or two lately killed about
her.
DOLL Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie! Come on, I’ll tell
thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal, and the
child I go with do miscarry, thou wert better thou
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hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain.
HOSTESS O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He
would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray
God the fruit of her womb miscarry!
1 BEADLE If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions
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again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you
both, go with me, for the man is dead that you and
Pistol beat amongst you.
DOLL I’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will
have you as soundly swinged for this – you blue-bottle
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rogue, you filthy famished correctioner, if you be not
swinged I’ll forswear half-kirtles.
1 BEADLE Come, come, you she knight-errant, come!
HOSTESS O God, that right should thus overcome
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