Complete Plays, The (231 page)

Warwick

He’s walk’d the way of nature;
And to our purposes he lives no more.

Lord Chief-Justice

I would his majesty had call’d me with him:
The service that I truly did his life
Hath left me open to all injuries.

Warwick

Indeed I think the young king loves you not.

Lord Chief-Justice

I know he doth not, and do arm myself
To welcome the condition of the time,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.

Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmoreland, and others

Warwick

Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry:
O that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

Lord Chief-Justice

O God, I fear all will be overturn’d!

Lancaster

Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.

Gloucester

Clarence

Good morrow, cousin.

Lancaster

We meet like men that had forgot to speak.

Warwick

We do remember; but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

Lancaster

Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.

Lord Chief-Justice

Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!

Gloucester

O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your own.

Lancaster

Though no man be assured what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation:
I am the sorrier; would ’twere otherwise.

Clarence

Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
Which swims against your stream of quality.

Lord Chief-Justice

Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by the impartial conduct of my soul:
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall’d remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I’ll to the king my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.

Warwick

Here comes the prince.

Enter King Henry V, attended

Lord Chief-Justice

Good morrow; and God save your majesty!

King Henry V

This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear:
This is the English, not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on
And wear it in my heart: why then, be sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
I’ll be your father and your brother too;
Let me but bear your love, I ’ll bear your cares:
Yet weep that Harry’s dead; and so will I;
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.

Princes

We hope no other from your majesty.

King Henry V

You all look strangely on me: and you most;
You are, I think, assured I love you not.

Lord Chief-Justice

I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

King Henry V

No!
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
The immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash’d in Lethe, and forgotten?

Lord Chief-Justice

I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me:
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought,
To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person;
Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father and propose a son,
Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain’d;
And then imagine me taking your part
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,
My person, or my liege’s sovereignty.

King Henry V

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
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,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.’ You did commit me:
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have used to bear;
With this remembrance, that you use the same
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
To your well-practised 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 spirit sadly I survive,
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:
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,
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.
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

S
CENE
III. G
LOUCESTERSHIRE
. S
HALLOW
’
S
ORCHARD
.

Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, and the Page

Shallow

Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year’s pippin of my 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 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 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.

Silence

Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,

Singing

And praise God for the merry year;
When flesh is cheap and females dear,
And lusty lads roam here and there
So merrily,
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.

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

Shallow

Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there, be merry.

Silence

Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;

Singing

For women are shrews, both short and tall:
’Tis merry in hall when beards wag all,
And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry.

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.

Re-enter Davy

Davy

There’s a dish of leather-coats for you.

To Bardolph

Shallow

Davy!

Davy

Your worship! I’ll be with you straight.

To Bardolph

A cup of wine, sir?

Silence

A cup of wine that’s brisk and fine,

Singing

And drink unto the leman mine;
And a merry heart lives long-a.

Falstaff

Well said, Master Silence.

Silence

An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o’ the night.

Falstaff

Health and long life to you, Master Silence.

Silence

Fill the cup, and let it come;

Singing

I’ll pledge you a mile to the bottom.

Shallow

Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief.

To the Page

And welcome indeed too. I’ll drink to Master
Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.

Davy

I hove to see London once ere I die.

Bardolph

An I might see you there, Davy,—

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; he is true bred.

Bardolph

And I’ll stick by him, sir.

Shallow

Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry.

Knocking within

Look who’s at door there, ho! who knocks?

Exit Davy

Falstaff

Why, now you have done me right.

To Silence, seeing him take off a bumper

Silence

[Singing]
Do me right,
And dub me knight: Samingo.
Is’t not so?

Falstaff

’Tis so.

Silence

Is’t so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.

Re-enter Davy

Davy

An’t please your worship, there’s one Pistol 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?

Pistol

Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

Silence

By’r lady, I think a’ be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

Pistol

Puff!
Puff in 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
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.

Falstaff

O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

Silence

And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.

Singing

Pistol

Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
And shall good news be baffled?
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.

Silence

Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

Pistol

Why then, lament therefore.

Shallow

Give me pardon, sir: if, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it there’s but two ways, either to utter them, or to 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?

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?

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.