Shakespeare's First Folio Part 306

For from his Mettle, was his Party steel'd; Which once, in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselues, like dull and heauy Lead: And as the Thing, that's heauy in it selfe, Vpon enforcement, flyes with greatest speede, So did our Men, heauy in Hotspurres losse, Lend to this weight, such lightnesse with their Feare, That Arrowes fled not swifter toward their ayme, Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their safety) Fly from the field. Then was that n.o.ble Worcester Too soone ta'ne prisoner: and that furious Scot, (The b.l.o.o.d.y Dowglas) whose well-labouring sword Had three times slaine th' appearance of the King, Gan vaile his stomacke, and did grace the shame Of those that turn'd their backes: and in his flight, Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The summe of all, Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath sent out A speedy power, to encounter you my Lord, Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancaster And Westmerland. This is the Newes at full

North. For this, I shall haue time enough to mourne.

In Poyson, there is Physicke: and this newes (Hauing beene well) that would haue made me sicke, Being sicke, haue in some measure, made me well.

And as the Wretch, whose Feauer-weakned ioynts, Like strengthlesse Hindges, buckle vnder life, Impatient of his Fit, breakes like a fire Out of his keepers armes: Euen so, my Limbes (Weak'ned with greefe) being now inrag'd with greefe, Are thrice themselues. Hence therefore thou nice crutch, A scalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele Must gloue this hand. And hence thou sickly Quoife, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, Which Princes, flesh'd with Conquest, ayme to hit.

Now binde my Browes with Iron and approach The ragged'st houre, that Time and Spight dare bring To frowne vpon th' enrag'd Northumberland.

Let Heauen kisse Earth: now let not Natures hand Keepe the wilde Flood confin'd: Let Order dye, And let the world no longer be a stage To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act: But let one spirit of the First-borne Caine Reigne in all bosomes, that each heart being set On b.l.o.o.d.y Courses, the rude Scene may end, And darknesse be the burier of the dead

L.Bar. Sweet Earle, diuorce not wisedom from your Honor

Mor. The liues of all your louing Complices Leane-on your health, the which if you giue-o're To stormy Pa.s.sion, must perforce decay.

You cast th' euent of Warre (my n.o.ble Lord) And summ'd the accompt of Chance, before you said Let vs make head: It was your presurmize, That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop.

You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge More likely to fall in, then to get o're: You were aduis'd his flesh was capeable Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd, Yet did you say go forth: and none of this (Though strongly apprehended) could restraine The stiffe-borne Action: What hath then befalne?

Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth, More then that Being, which was like to be?

L.Bar. We all that are engaged to this losse, Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous Seas, That if we wrought out life, was ten to one: And yet we ventur'd for the gaine propos'd, Choak'd the respect of likely perill fear'd, And since we are o're-set, venture againe.

Come, we will all put forth; Body, and Goods, Mor. 'Tis more then time: And (my most n.o.ble Lord) I heare for certaine, and do speake the truth: The gentle Arch-bishop of Yorke is vp With well appointed Powres: he is a man Who with a double Surety bindes his Followers.

My Lord (your Sonne) had onely but the Corpes, But shadowes, and the shewes of men to fight.

For that same word (Rebellion) did diuide The action of their bodies, from their soules, And they did fight with queasinesse, constrain'd As men drinke Potions; that their Weapons only Seem'd on our side: but for their Spirits and Soules, This word (Rebellion) it had froze them vp, As Fish are in a Pond. But now the Bishop Turnes Insurrection to Religion, Suppos'd sincere, and holy in his Thoughts: He's follow'd both with Body, and with Minde: And doth enlarge his Rising, with the blood Of faire King Richard, sc.r.a.p'd from Pomfret stones, Deriues from heauen, his Quarrell, and his Cause: Tels them, he doth bestride a bleeding Land, Gasping for life, vnder great Bullingbrooke, And more, and lesse, do flocke to follow him

North. I knew of this before. But to speake truth, This present greefe had wip'd it from my minde.

Go in with me, and councell euery man The aptest way for safety, and reuenge: Get Posts, and Letters, and make Friends with speed, Neuer so few, nor neuer yet more need.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Falstaffe, and Page.

Fal. Sirra, you giant, what saies the Doct[or]. to my water?

Pag. He said sir, the water it selfe was a good healthy water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might haue more diseases then he knew for

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at mee: the braine of this foolish compounded Clay-man, is not able to inuent any thing that tends to laughter, more then I inuent, or is inuented on me. I am not onely witty in my selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I doe heere walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'rewhelm'd all her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Seruice for any other reason, then to set mee off, why then I haue no iudgement. Thou horson Mandrake, thou art fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeles. I was neuer mann'd with an Agot till now: but I will sette you neyther in Gold, nor Siluer, but in vilde apparell, and send you backe againe to your Master, for a Iewell. The Iuuenall (the Prince your Master) whose Chin is not yet fledg'd, I will sooner haue a beard grow in the Palme of my hand, then he shall get one on his cheeke: yet he will not sticke to say, his Face is a Face-Royall. Heauen may finish it when he will, it is not a haire amisse yet: he may keepe it still at a Face-Royall, for a Barber shall neuer earne six pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man euer since his Father was a Batch.e.l.lour.

He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can a.s.sure him. What said M[aster]. Dombledon, about the Satten for my short Cloake, and Slops?

Pag. He said sir, you should procure him better a.s.surance, then Bardolfe: he wold not take his Bond & yours, he lik'd not the Security

Fal. Let him bee d.a.m.n'd like the Glutton, may his Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a Rascally-yea-forsooth-knaue, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then stand vpon Security? The horson smooth-pates doe now weare nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at their girdles: and if a man is through with them in honest Taking-vp, then they must stand vpon Securitie: I had as liefe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should haue sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the lightnesse of his Wife s.h.i.+nes through it, and yet cannot he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him.

Where's Bardolfe?

Pag. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your wors.h.i.+p a horse

Fal. I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd.

Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant.

Pag. Sir, heere comes the n.o.bleman that committed the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe

Fal. Wait close, I will not see him

Ch.Iust. What's he that goes there?

Ser. Falstaffe, and't please your Lords.h.i.+p

Iust. He that was in question for the Robbery?

Ser. He my Lord, but he hath since done good seruice at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some Charge, to the Lord Iohn of Lancaster

Iust. What to Yorke? Call him backe againe

Ser. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deafe

Pag. You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe

Iust. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.

Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him

Ser. Sir Iohn

Fal. What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is there not imployment? Doth not the K[ing]. lack subiects? Do not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Rebellion can tell how to make it

Ser. You mistake me Sir

Fal. Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting my Knight-hood, and my Souldiers.h.i.+p aside, I had lyed in my throat, if I had said so

Ser. I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and your Souldier-s.h.i.+p aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you, you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an honest man

Fal. I giue thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a-side that which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you Hunt-counter, hence: Auant

Ser. Sir, my Lord would speake with you

Iust. Sir Iohn Falstaffe, a word with you

Fal. My good Lord: giue your Lords.h.i.+p good time of the day. I am glad to see your Lords.h.i.+p abroad: I heard say your Lords.h.i.+p was sicke. I hope your Lords.h.i.+p goes abroad by aduise. Your Lords.h.i.+p (though not clean past your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rellish of the saltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech your Lords.h.i.+p, to haue a reuerend care of your health

Iust. Sir Iohn, I sent you before your Expedition, to Shrewsburie

Fal. If it please your Lords.h.i.+p, I heare his Maiestie is return'd with some discomfort from Wales

Iust. I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not come when I sent for you?

Fal. And I heare moreouer, his Highnesse is falne into this same whorson Apoplexie

Iust. Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with you

Fal. This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling

Iust. What tell you me of it? be it as it is

Fal. It hath it originall from much greefe; from study and perturbation of the braine. I haue read the cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse

Iust. I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you heare not what I say to you

Fal. Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not Marking, that I am troubled withall