William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (277 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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BOY Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and you, hostess. He is very sick, and would to bed.—Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan.—Faith, he’s very ill.
BARDOLPH Away, you rogue!
HOSTESS By my troth, he’ll yield the crow a pudding one of these days. The King has killed his heart. Good husband, come home presently.
Exit
⌈
with Boy
⌉
Exit
⌈
with Boy
⌉
BARDOLPE Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together. Why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another’s throats?
PISTOL Let floods o‘erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
NIM You’ll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
PISTOL Base is the slave that pays.
NIM That now I will have. That’s the humour of it.
PISTOL
As manhood shall compound. Push home.
Pistol and Nim draw their swords
Pistol and Nim draw their swords
BARDOLPH ⌈
drawing his sword
⌉ By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I’ll kill him. By this sword, I will.
drawing his sword
⌉ By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I’ll kill him. By this sword, I will.
PISTOL
Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
⌈
He sheathes his sword
⌉
BARDOLPH Corporal Nim, an thou wilt be friends, be friends. An thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prithee, put up.
NIM I shall have my eight shillings?
PISTOL
A noble shalt thou have, and present pay,
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
I’ll live by Nim, and Nim shall live by me.
Is not this just? For I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
I’ll live by Nim, and Nim shall live by me.
Is not this just? For I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.
NIM I shall have my noble?
PISTOL In cash, most justly paid.
NIM Well then, that’s the humour of’t. ⌈
Nim and Bardolph sheathe their swords.
⌉
Enter Hostess Quickly
Nim and Bardolph sheathe their swords.
⌉
Enter Hostess Quickly
HOSTESS As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John. Ah, poor heart, he is so shaked of a burning quotidian-tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him. ⌈
Exit
⌉
Exit
⌉
NIM The King hath run bad humours on the knight, that’s the even of it.
PISTOL Nim, thou hast spoke the right. His heart is fracted and corroborate.
NIM The King is a good king, but it must be as it may. He passes some humours and careers.
PISTOL
Let us condole the knight—for, lambkins, we will live.
Exeunt
2.2Exeunt
Enter the Dukes of Exeter and
⌈
Gloucester
⌉,
and the Earl of Westmorland
⌈GLOUCESTER⌉
Fore God, his grace is bold to trust these traitors.
EXETER
They shall be apprehended by and by.
WESTMORLAND
How smooth and even they do bear themselves,
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.
⌈GLOUCESTER⌉
The King hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.
By interception which they dream not of.
EXETER
Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
Whom he hath dulled and cloyed with gracious
favours—
That he should for a foreign purse so sell
His sovereign’s life to death and treachery.
Sound trumpets. Enter King Harry, Lord Scrope, the
Earl of Cambridge, and Sir Thomas Grey
Whom he hath dulled and cloyed with gracious
favours—
That he should for a foreign purse so sell
His sovereign’s life to death and treachery.
Sound trumpets. Enter King Harry, Lord Scrope, the
Earl of Cambridge, and Sir Thomas Grey
KING HARRY
Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My lord of Cambridge, and my kind lord of Masham,
And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts.
Think you not that the powers we bear with us
Will cut their passage through the force of France,
Doing the execution and the act
For which we have in head assembled them?
My lord of Cambridge, and my kind lord of Masham,
And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts.
Think you not that the powers we bear with us
Will cut their passage through the force of France,
Doing the execution and the act
For which we have in head assembled them?
SCROPE
No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
KING HARRY
I doubt not that, since we are well persuaded
We carry not a heart with us from hence
That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.
We carry not a heart with us from hence
That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.
CAMBRIDGE
Never was monarch better feared and loved
Than is your majesty. There’s not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.
Than is your majesty. There’s not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.
GREY
True. Those that were your father’s enemies
Have steeped their galls in honey, and do serve you
With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
Have steeped their galls in honey, and do serve you
With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
KING HARRY
We therefore have great cause of thankfulness,
And shall forget the office of our hand
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,
According to their weight and worthiness.
And shall forget the office of our hand
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,
According to their weight and worthiness.
SCROPE
So service shall with steelèd sinews toil,
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
To do your grace incessant services.
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
To do your grace incessant services.
KING HARRY
We judge no less.—Uncle of Exeter,
Enlarge the man committed yesterday
That railed against our person. We consider
It was excess of wine that set him on,
And on his more advice we pardon him.
Enlarge the man committed yesterday
That railed against our person. We consider
It was excess of wine that set him on,
And on his more advice we pardon him.
SCROPE
That’s mercy, but too much security.
Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
KING HARRY
O let us yet be merciful.
CAMBRIDGE
So may your highness, and yet punish too.
GREY
Sir, you show great mercy if you give him life,
After the taste of much correction.
After the taste of much correction.
KING HARRY
Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons ’gainst this poor wretch.
If little faults proceeding on distemper
Are heavy orisons ’gainst this poor wretch.
If little faults proceeding on distemper
Shall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eye
When capital crimes, chewed, swallowed, and digested,
Appear before us? We’ll yet enlarge that man,
Though Cambridge, Scrope, and Grey, in their dear care
And tender preservation of our person,
Would have him punished. And now to our French causes.
Who are the late commissioners?
CAMBRIDGE I one, my lord.
Your highness bade me ask for it today.
SCROPE
So did you me, my liege.
GREY And I, my royal sovereign.
KING HARRY
Then Richard, Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;
There yours, Lord Scrope of Masham, and sir knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.
Read them, and know I know your worthiness.—
My lord of Westmorland, and Uncle Exeter,
We will aboard tonight.—Why, how now, gentlemen?
What see you in those papers, that you lose
So much complexion?—Look ye how they change:
Their cheeks are paper.—Why, what read you there
That have so cowarded and chased your blood
Out of appearance?
There yours, Lord Scrope of Masham, and sir knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.
Read them, and know I know your worthiness.—
My lord of Westmorland, and Uncle Exeter,
We will aboard tonight.—Why, how now, gentlemen?
What see you in those papers, that you lose
So much complexion?—Look ye how they change:
Their cheeks are paper.—Why, what read you there
That have so cowarded and chased your blood
Out of appearance?
CAMBRIDGE I do confess my fault,
And do submit me to your highness’ mercy.
GREY
and
SCROPE To which we all appeal.
and
SCROPE To which we all appeal.
KING HARRY
The mercy that was quick in us but late
By your own counsel is suppressed and killed.
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy,
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.—
See you, my princes and my noble peers,
These English monsters? My lord of Cambridge here,
You know how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appurtenants
Belonging to his honour; and this vile man
Hath for a few light crowns lightly conspired
And sworn unto the practices of France
To kill us here in Hampton. To the which
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But O
What shall I say to thee, Lord Scrope, thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature?
Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew‘st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost mightst ha’ coined me into gold
Wouldst thou ha’ practised on me for thy use:
May it be possible that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
That might annoy my finger? ’Tis so strange
That though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black on white, my eye will scarcely see it.
Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either’s purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause
That admiration did not whoop at them;
But thou, ‘gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder.
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence.
And other devils that suggest by treasons
Do botch and bungle up damnation
With patches, colours, and with forms, being fetched
From glist’ring semblances of piety;
But he that tempered thee, bade thee stand up,
Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
If that same demon that hath gulled thee thus
Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
He might return to vasty Tartar back
And tell the legions, ‘I can never win
A soul so easy as that Englishman’s.’
O how hast thou with jealousy infected
The sweetness of affiance. Show men dutiful?
Why so didst thou. Seem they grave and learned?
Why so didst thou. Come they of noble family?
Why so didst thou. Seem they religious?
Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
Free from gross passion, or of mirth or anger,
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
Garnished and decked in modest complement,
Not working with the eye without the ear,
And but in purged judgement trusting neither?
Such, and so finely boulted, didst thou seem.
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot
To mark the full-fraught man, and best endowed,
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee,
For this revolt of thine methinks is like
Another fall of man.—Their faults are open.
Arrest them to the answer of the law,
And God acquit them of their practices.
By your own counsel is suppressed and killed.
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy,
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.—
See you, my princes and my noble peers,
These English monsters? My lord of Cambridge here,
You know how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appurtenants
Belonging to his honour; and this vile man
Hath for a few light crowns lightly conspired
And sworn unto the practices of France
To kill us here in Hampton. To the which
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But O
What shall I say to thee, Lord Scrope, thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature?
Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew‘st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost mightst ha’ coined me into gold
Wouldst thou ha’ practised on me for thy use:
May it be possible that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
That might annoy my finger? ’Tis so strange
That though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black on white, my eye will scarcely see it.
Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either’s purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause
That admiration did not whoop at them;
But thou, ‘gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder.
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence.
And other devils that suggest by treasons
Do botch and bungle up damnation
With patches, colours, and with forms, being fetched
From glist’ring semblances of piety;
But he that tempered thee, bade thee stand up,
Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
If that same demon that hath gulled thee thus
Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
He might return to vasty Tartar back
And tell the legions, ‘I can never win
A soul so easy as that Englishman’s.’
O how hast thou with jealousy infected
The sweetness of affiance. Show men dutiful?
Why so didst thou. Seem they grave and learned?
Why so didst thou. Come they of noble family?
Why so didst thou. Seem they religious?
Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
Free from gross passion, or of mirth or anger,
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
Garnished and decked in modest complement,
Not working with the eye without the ear,
And but in purged judgement trusting neither?
Such, and so finely boulted, didst thou seem.
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot
To mark the full-fraught man, and best endowed,
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee,
For this revolt of thine methinks is like
Another fall of man.—Their faults are open.
Arrest them to the answer of the law,
And God acquit them of their practices.
EXETER I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard, Earl of Cambridge.—I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham.—I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland.
SCROPE
Our purposes God justly hath discovered,
And I repent my fault more than my death,
Which I beseech your highness to forgive
Although my body pay the price of it.
And I repent my fault more than my death,
Which I beseech your highness to forgive
Although my body pay the price of it.
CAMBRIDGE
For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
Although I did admit it as a motive
The sooner to effect what I intended.
But God be thankèd for prevention,
Which heartily in sufferance will rejoice,
Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
Although I did admit it as a motive
The sooner to effect what I intended.
But God be thankèd for prevention,
Which heartily in sufferance will rejoice,
Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
GREY
Never did faithful subject more rejoice
At the discovery of most dangerous treason
Than I do at this hour joy o’er myself,
Prevented from a damned enterprise.
My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
At the discovery of most dangerous treason
Than I do at this hour joy o’er myself,
Prevented from a damned enterprise.
My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
KING HARRY
God ’quit you in his mercy. Hear your sentence.
You have conspired against our royal person,
Joined with an enemy proclaimed and fixed,
And from his coffers
Received the golden earnest of our death,
Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
His princes and his peers to servitude,
His subjects to oppression and contempt,
And his whole kingdom into desolation.
Touching our person seek we no revenge,
But we our kingdom’s safety must so tender,
Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws
We do deliver you. Get ye therefore hence,
Poor miserable wretches, to your death;
The taste whereof, God of his mercy give
You patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear offences.—Bear them hence.
You have conspired against our royal person,
Joined with an enemy proclaimed and fixed,
And from his coffers
Received the golden earnest of our death,
Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
His princes and his peers to servitude,
His subjects to oppression and contempt,
And his whole kingdom into desolation.
Touching our person seek we no revenge,
But we our kingdom’s safety must so tender,
Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws
We do deliver you. Get ye therefore hence,
Poor miserable wretches, to your death;
The taste whereof, God of his mercy give
You patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear offences.—Bear them hence.
Exeunt the traitors, guarded
Now lords for France, the enterprise whereof
Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason lurking in our way
To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
But every rub is smoothed on our way.
Then forth, dear countrymen. Let us deliver
Our puissance into the hand of God,
Putting it straight in expedition.
Cheerly to sea, the signs of war advance:
No king of England, if not king of France.
Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason lurking in our way
To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
But every rub is smoothed on our way.
Then forth, dear countrymen. Let us deliver
Our puissance into the hand of God,
Putting it straight in expedition.
Cheerly to sea, the signs of war advance:
No king of England, if not king of France.
Flourish. Exeunt
Enter Ensign Pistol, Corporal Nim, Lieutenant Bardolph, Boy, and Hostess Quickly
HOSTESS Prithee, honey, sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
PISTOL
No, for my manly heart doth erne. Bardolph,
Be blithe; Nim, rouse thy vaunting veins; boy, bristle
Thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead,
And we must earn therefore.
Be blithe; Nim, rouse thy vaunting veins; boy, bristle
Thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead,
And we must earn therefore.
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