KING HENRY (giving letters)
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
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep? O sleep, O gentle sleep,
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 stretching thee,
And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lulled with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why li‘st thou with the vile 15
In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch
A watch-case, or a common ’larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
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 by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Enter the Earls of Warwick and Surrey
WARWICK
Many good morrows to your majesty!
KING HENRY
Is it good morrow, lords?
WARWICK ’Tis one o’clock, and past.
KING HENRY
Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.
Have you read o’er the letter that I sent you?
WARWICK We have, my liege.
KING HENRY
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.
WARWICK
It is but as a body yet distempered,
Which to his former strength may be restored
With good advice and little medicine.
My lord Northumberland will soon be cooled.
KING HENRY
O God, 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 chance’s mocks
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors!‘Tis not ten years gone
Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together; and in two year after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years since
This Percy was the man nearest my soul,
Who like a brother toiled 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 which of you was by—
(To Warwick) You, cousin Neville, as I may
remember—
When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,
Then checked 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 knows, I had no such intent,
But that necessity so bowed the state
That I and greatness were compelled to kiss—
‘The time shall come’—thus did he follow it—
‘The time will come that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption’; so went on,
Foretelling this same time’s condition,
And the division of our amity.
WARWICK
There is a history in all men’s lives
Figuring the natures 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, who in their seeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasurèd. 80
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And by the necessary form of this
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 HENRY Are these things then necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessities;
And that same word even now cries out on us.
They say the Bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand strong.
WARWICK It cannot be, my lord.
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the feared. Please it your grace
To go to bed? Upon my soul, my lord,
The powers that you already have sent forth
Shall bring this prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I have received
A certain instance that Glyndwr is dead.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
And these unseasoned hours perforce must add
Unto your sickness.
KING HENRY I will take your counsel.
And were these inward wars once out of hand,
We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. Exeunt
3.2 Enter justice Shallow and Justice Silence
SHALLOW Come on, come on, come on! Give me your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by the rood! And how doth my good cousin Silence?
SILENCE Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
SHALLOW And how doth my cousin your bedfellow? And your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?
SILENCE Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow.
SHALLOW By yea and no, sir, I dare say my cousin William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford still, is he not? 10
SILENCE Indeed, sir, to my cost.
SHALLOW A must then to the Inns o’ Court shortly. I was once of Clement’s Inn, where I think they will talk of mad Shallow yet.
SILENCE You were called ’lusty Shallow’ then, cousin. 15
SHALLOW By the mass, I was called anything; and I would have done anything indeed, too, and roundly, too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squeal, a Cotswold man; you had not four such swingebucklers in all the Inns o’ Court again. And I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
SILENCE This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers?
SHALLOW The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break Scoggin’s head at the court gate when a was a crack, not thus high. And the very same day did I fight with one Samson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray’s Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead.
SILENCE We shall all follow, cousin.
SHALLOW Certain, ’tis certain; very sure, very sure. Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?
SILENCE By my troth, I was not there.
SHALLOW Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?
SILENCE Dead, sir.
SHALLOW Jesu, Jesu, dead! A drew a good bow; and dead! A shot a fine shoot. John o’ Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! A would have clapped i’th’ clout at twelve score, and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man’s heart good to see. How a score of ewes now?
SILENCE Thereafter as they be. A score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.
SHALLOW And is old Double dead?
Enter Bardolph and ⌈the Page⌉
SILENCE Here come two of Sir John Falstaff’s men, as I think.
⌈SHALLOW⌉ Good morrow, honest gentlemen.
BARDOLPH I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?
SHALLOW I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of this county, and one of the King’s Justices of the Peace. What is your good pleasure with me?
BARDOLPH My captain, sir, commends him to you—my captain Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.
SHALLOW He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good backsword man. How doth the good knight? May I ask how my lady his wife doth?
BARDOLPH Sir, pardon, a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife.
SHALLOW It is well said, in faith, sir, and it is well said indeed, too. ‘Better accommodated’—it is good; yea, indeed is it. Good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable. ‘Accommodated’—it comes of ‘accommodo’. Very good, a good phrase.
BARDOLPH Pardon, sir, I have heard the word—‘phrase’ call you it?—By this 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. ‘Accommodated’; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is being whereby a may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.
Enter Sir John Falstaff
SHALLOW It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir John. (To Sir John) Give me your hand, give me your worship’s good hand. By my troth, you like well, and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.
SIR JOHN I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow. (To Silence) Master Surecard, as I think. 85
SHALLOW No, Sir John, it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.
SIR JOHN Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace.
SILENCE Your good worship is welcome.
SIR JOHN Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?
SHALLOW Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
SIR JOHN Let me see them, I beseech you.
⌈He sits⌉
SHALLOW Where’s the roll, where’s the roll, where’s the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see; so, so, so, so, so. Yea, marry, sir: ‘Ralph Mouldy’. ⌈To Silence⌉ Let them appear as I call, let them do so, let them do so. Let me see, (calls) where is Mouldy?
⌈Enter Mouldy⌉
MOULDY Here, an’t please you. 100
SHALLOW What think you, Sir John? A good-limbed fellow, young, strong, and of good friends.
SIR JOHN Is thy name Mouldy?
MOULDY Yea, an’t please you.
SIR JOHN ’Tis the more time thou wert used. 105
SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha, most excellent, i’faith! Things that are mouldy lack use. Very singular good, in faith, well said, Sir John, very well said.
SIR JOHN Prick him.
MOULDY I was pricked well enough before, an 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 1. 114
SIR JOHN Go to, peace, Mouldy. You shall go, Mouldy; it is time you were spent.
MOULDY Spent?
SHALLOW Peace, fellow, peace. Stand aside; know you where you are? 119
⌈Mouldy stands aside⌉
For th‘other, Sir John, let me see: ‘Simon Shadow’—
SIR JOHN Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He’s like to be a cold soldier.
SHALLOW (calls) Where’s Shadow?
⌈Enter Shadow⌉
SHADOW Here, sir.
SIR JOHN Shadow, whose son art thou? 125
SHADOW My mother’s son, sir.
SIR JOHN 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 not of the father’s substance.
SHALLOW Do you like him, Sir John?
SIR JOHN Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him, for we have a number of shadows fill up the muster book.
⌈Shadow stands aside⌉
SHALLOW (calls) ‘Thomas Wart.’
SIR JOHN Where’s he?
⌈Enter Wart⌉
WART Here, sir.
SIR JOHN Is thy name Wart?
WART Yea, sir.
SIR JOHN Thou art a very ragged wart.
SHALLOW Shall I prick him, Sir John?
SIR JOHN It were superfluous, for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins. Prick him no more.
SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha, you can do it, sir, you can do it! I commend you well. 145
⌈Wart stands aside⌉
(Calls) ‘Francis Feeble.’
⌈Enter Feeble⌉
FEEBLE Here, sir.
SHALLOW What trade art thou, Feeble?
FEEBLE A woman’s tailor, sir.
SHALLOW Shall I prick him, sir?
SIR JOHN You may, but if he had been a man’s tailor, he’d ha’ pricked you. (To Feeble) Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy’s battle as thou hast done in a woman’s petticoat?
FEEBLE I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.
SIR JOHN 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, Master Shallow; deep, Master Shallow. 160
FEEBLE I would Wart might have gone, sir.
SIR JOHN 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 private soldier that is the leader of so many thousands. Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.
FEEBLE It shall suffice, sir.
SIR JOHN I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble.
⌈Feeble stands aside⌉
Who is next?
SHALLOW (calls) ‘Peter Bullcalf o’th’ green.’
SIR JOHN Yea, marry, let’s see Bullcalf. 170
⌈Enter Bullcalf⌉
BULLCALF Here, sir.
SIR JOHN Fore God, a likely fellow! Come, prick Bullcalf till he roar again.
BULLCALF O Lord, good my lord captain!
SIR JOHN What, dost thou roar before thou’rt pricked?
BULLCALF O Lord, sir, I am a diseased man.
SIR JOHN What disease hast thou?
BULLCALF A whoreson cold, sir; a cough, sir, which I caught with ringing in the King’s affairs upon his coronation day, sir. 180
SIR JOHN 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.
⌈Bullcalf stands aside⌉
Is here all? 184
SHALLOW There is two more called than your number. You must have but four here, sir, and so I pray you go in with me to dinner.
SIR JOHN Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow. 190
SHALLOW O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the Windmill in Saint George’s Field?
SIR JOHN No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more of that.
SHALLOW Ha, ’twas a merry night! And is Jane Nightwork alive? 196
SIR JOHN She lives, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW She never could away with me.
SIR JOHN Never, neve
r. She would always say she could not abide Master Shallow.
SHALLOW By the mass, I could anger her to th’ heart. She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?
SIR JOHN Old, old, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW 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 Clement’s Inn. 206
SILENCE That’s fifty-five year ago.
SHALLOW Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this knight and I have seen! Ha, Sir John, said I well? 210
SIR JOHN We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW That we have, that we have; in faith, Sir John, we have. Our watchword was ‘Hem boys!’ Come, let’s to dinner; come, let’s to dinner. Jesus, the days that we have seen! Come, come. 216
Exeunt Shallow, Silence, and Sir John
BULLCALF ⌈coming forward⌉ 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.
BARDOLPH ⌈taking the money⌉ Go to; stand aside. 225
⌈Bullcalf stands aside⌉
MOULDY ⌈coming forward⌉ And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old dame’s sake stand my friend. She has nobody to do anything about her when I am gone, and she is old and cannot help herself. You shall have forty, sir. 230
BARDOLPH Go to; stand aside.
⌈Mouldy stands aside⌉
FEEBLE By my troth, I care not. A man can die but once. We owe God a death. I’ll ne’er bear a base mind. An’t be my destiny, so; an’t be not, so. No man’s too good to serve’s prince. And let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.
BARDOLPH Well said; thou’rt a good fellow.
FEEBLE Faith, I’ll bear no base mind.
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 183
