Gives money
SHALLOW He is not his craft's master. He doth not do it right. I
remember at Mile-End Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn--
I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show --there was a little
quiver fellow, and he would manage you his piece thus.
And he would about and about, and come you in and come
you in. 'Ra, ta, ta s', would he say. 'Bounce ', would he say, and
away again would he go, and again would he come. I shall
never see such a fellow.
FALSTAFF These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. Farewell,
Master Silence. I will not use many words with you. Fare you
well, gentlemen both. I thank you. I must a dozen mile
tonight. Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.
SHALLOW Sir John, heaven bless you and prosper your affairs,
and send us peace! As you return, visit my house. Let our old
acquaintance be renewed. Peradventure I will with you to
the court.
FALSTAFF I would you would, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW Go to. I have spoke at a word . Fare you well.
Exit
FALSTAFF Fare you well, gentle gentlemen.-- On, Bardolph.
Lead the men away.
[Exeunt Bardolph, Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble and Bullcalf]
As I return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see the bottom
of Justice Shallow. How subject we old men are to this vice of
lying! This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate
to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath
done about Turnbull Street, and every third word a lie, duer
paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember
him at Clement's Inn like a man made after supper of a
cheese-paring . When he was naked, he was, for all the world,
like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it
with a knife. He was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any
thick sight were invincible . He was the very genius of
famine. He came ever in the rearward of the fashion. And
now is this Vice's dagger become a squire, and talks as
familiarly of John of Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother
to him, and I'll be sworn he never saw him but once in the
Tilt-yard, and then he burst his head for crowding among
the marshal's men . I saw it, and told John of Gaunt he beat
his own name, for you might have trussed him and all his
apparel into an eel-skin, the case of a treble hautboy was a
mansion for him, a court. And now hath he land and beefs .
Well, I will be acquainted with him, if I return, and it shall go
hard but I will make him a philosopher's two stones to me. If
the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason in
the law of nature but I may snap at him. Let time shape , and
there an end.
Exit
Act 4 Scene 1
running scene 10
Location: Gaultree Forest, north of York
Enter the Archbishop, Mowbray, Hastings
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK What is this forest called?
HASTINGS 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an't shall please your grace.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers
forth
To know the numbers of our enemies.
HASTINGS We have sent forth already.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 'Tis well done.
My friends and brethren in these great affairs,
I must acquaint you that I have received
New-dated letters from Northumberland.
Their cold intent, tenor and substance, thus:
Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
As might hold sortance with his quality,
The which he could not levy, whereupon
He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes,
To Scotland; and concludes in hearty prayers
That your attempts may overlive the hazard
And fearful meeting of their opposite .
MOWBRAY Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
And dash themselves to pieces.
Enter a Messenger
HASTINGS Now, what news?
MESSENGER West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
In goodly form comes on the enemy.
And by the ground they hide, I judge their number
Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.
MOWBRAY The just proportion that we gave them out .
Let us sway on and face them in the field.
Enter Westmorland
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
MOWBRAY I think it is my lord of Westmorland.
WESTMORLAND Health and fair greeting from our general,
The prince, L ord John and Duke of Lancaster.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Say on, my lord of Westmorland, in peace:
What doth concern your coming?
WESTMORLAND Then, my lord,
Unto your grace do I in chief address
The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
Came like itself, in base and abject routs ,
Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
And countenanced by boys and beggary,
I say, if damned commotion so appeared,
In his true, native and most proper shape,
You, reverend father, and these noble lords
Had not been here to dress the ugly form
Of base and bloody insurrection
With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop,
Whose see is by a civil peace maintained,
Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touched,
Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutored,
Whose white investments figure innocence,
The dove and very blessed spirit of peace,
Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself
Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace,
Into the harsh and boisterous tongue of war,
Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
Your pens to lances and your tongue divine
To a loud trumpet and a point of war?
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Wherefore do I this? So the question stands.
Briefly to this end: we are all diseased,
And with our surfeiting and wanton hours
Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
And we must bleed for it, of which disease
Our late King Richard, being infected, died.
But, my most noble lord of Westmorland,
I take not on me here as a physician,
Nor do I as an enemy to peace
Troop in the throngs of military men,
But rather show awhile like fearful war,
To diet rank minds sick of happiness
And purge th'obstructions which begin to stop
Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
I have in equal balance justly weighed
What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,
And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
We see which way the stream of time doth run,
And are enforced from our most quiet there
By the rough torrent of occasion,
And have the summary of all our griefs,
When time shall serve, to show in articles;
Which long ere this we offered to the king,
And might by no suit gain our audience.
When we are wronged and would unfold our griefs,
We are denied access unto his person
Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
The dangers of the days but newly gone,
&nb
sp; Whose memory is written on the earth
With yet appearing blood, and the examples
Of every minute's instance, present now,
Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms,
Not to break peace or any branch of it,
But to establish here a peace indeed,
Concurring both in name and quality.
WESTMORLAND Whenever yet was your appeal denied?
Wherein have you been galled by the king?
What peer hath been suborned to grate on you,
That you should seal this lawless bloody book
Of forged rebellion with a seal divine?
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK My brother general, the commonwealth,
I make my quarrel in particular.
WESTMORLAND There is no need of any such redress,
Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
MOWBRAY Why not to him in part, and to us all
That feel the bruises of the days before,
And suffer the condition of these times
To lay a heavy and unequal hand
Upon our honours?
WESTMORLAND O, my good lord Mowbray,
Construe the times to their necessities,
And you shall say indeed, it is the time,
And not the king, that doth you injuries.
Yet for your part, it not appears to me
Either from the king or in the present time
That you should have an inch of any ground
To build a grief on. Were you not restored
To all the Duke of Norfolk's signories,
Your noble and right well rememb'red father's?
MOWBRAY What thing, in honour, had my father lost,
That need to be revived and breathed in me?
The king that loved him, as the state stood then,
Was force perforce compelled to banish him,
And then that Henry Bullingbrook and he,
Being mounted and both roused in their seats,
Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel
And the loud trumpet blowing them together,
Then, then, when there was nothing could have stayed
My father from the breast of Bullingbrook,
O, when the king did throw his warder down--
His own life hung upon the staff he threw--
Then threw he down himself and all their lives
That by indictment and by dint of sword
Have since miscarried under Bullingbrook.
WESTMORLAND You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not
what.
The Earl of Hereford was reputed then
In England the most valiant gentleman.
Who knows on whom fortune would then have smiled?
But if your father had been victor there,
He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry,
For all the country in a general voice
Cried hate upon him, and all their prayers and love
Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on
And blessed and graced and did more than the king--
But this is mere digression from my purpose.
Here come I from our princely general
To know your griefs; to tell you from his grace
That he will give you audience, and wherein
It shall appear that your demands are just,
You shall enjoy them, everything set off,
That might so much as think you enemies.
MOWBRAY But he hath forced us to compel this offer,
And it proceeds from policy, not love.
WESTMORLAND Mowbray, you overween to take it so.
This offer comes from mercy, not from fear.
For, lo, within a ken our army lies,
Upon mine honour, all too confident
To give admittance to a thought of fear.
Our battle is more full of names than yours,
Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
Then reason will our hearts should be as good.
Say you not then our offer is compelled.
MOWBRAY Well, by my will, we shall admit no parley.
WESTMORLAND That argues but the shame of your offence:
A rotten case abides no handling .
HASTINGS Hath the Prince John a full commission,
In very ample virtue of his father,
To hear and absolutely to determine
Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
WESTMORLAND That is intended in the general's name.
I muse you make so slight a question.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Then take, my lord of Westmorland, this
schedule ,
Gives paper
For this contains our general grievances:
Each several article herein redressed,
All members of our cause, both here and hence ,
That are insinewed to this action,
Acquitted by a true substantial form
And present execution of our wills
To us and to our purposes confined,
We come within our awful banks again
And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
WESTMORLAND This will I show the general. Please you, lords,
In sight of both our battles we may meet,
At either end in peace, which heaven so frame,
Or to the place of difference call the swords
Which must decide it.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK My lord, we will do so.
[Exit Westmorland]
MOWBRAY There is a thing within my bosom tells me
That no conditions of our peace can stand.
HASTINGS Fear you not that. If we can make our peace
Upon such large terms and so absolute
As our conditions shall consist upon ,
Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
MOWBRAY Ay, but our valuation shall be such
That every slight and false-derived cause,
Yea, every idle, nice and wanton reason
Shall to the king taste of this action,
That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
And good from bad find no partition.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK No, no, my lord. Note this: the king is weary
Of dainty and such picking grievances,
For he hath found to end one doubt by death
Revives two greater in the heirs of life ,
And therefore will he wipe his tables clean
And keep no tell-tale to his memory
That may repeat and history his loss
To new remembrance. For full well he knows
He cannot so precisely weed this land
As his misdoubts present occasion :
His foes are so enrooted with his friends
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfasten so and shake a friend,
So that this land, like an offensive wife
That hath enraged him on to offer strokes,
As he is striking, holds his infant up
And hangs resolved correction in the arm
That was upreared to execution .
HASTINGS Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods
On late offenders, that he now doth lack
The very instruments of chastisement,
So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
May offer, but not hold.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 'Tis very true,
And therefore be assured, my good lord marshal,
If we do now make our atonement well,
Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
Grow stronger for the breaking.
M
OWBRAY Be it so.
Here is returned my lord of Westmorland.
Enter Westmorland
WESTMORLAND The prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your lordship
To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies.
MOWBRAY Your grace of York, in heaven's name then forward.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Before, and greet his grace.-- My lord, we
come.
Enter Prince John [and Attendants]
PRINCE JOHN You are well encountered here, my cousin
Mowbray.--
Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop.--
And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.--
My lord of York, it better showed with you
When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
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.
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,
It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
How deep you were within the books of heaven?
To us, the speaker in his parliament;
To us, th'imagined voice of heaven itself,
The very opener and intelligencer
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 heaven,
As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up ,
Under the counterfeited zeal of heaven,
The subjects of heaven's substitute, my father,
And both against the peace of heaven and him
Have here upswarmed them.
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Good my lord of Lancaster,
I am not here against your father's peace,
But, as I told my lord of Westmorland,
The time misordered doth, in common sense,
Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form,
To hold our safety up . I sent your grace
The parcels and particulars of our grief,
The which hath been with scorn shoved from the court,
Whereon this Hydra son of war is born,
Whose dangerous eyes may well be charmed asleep
With grant of our most just and right desires,
And true obedience, of this madness cured,
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:
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 .
PRINCE JOHN You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,
To sound the bottom of the after-times.
WESTMORLAND Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly
How far forth you do like their articles.
The Oxford Shakespeare: Henry IV, Part 2 (Oxford World's Classics) Page 9
