Lend to this weight fuch lightness with their fear, North. For this, I shall have time enough to mourn. In poifon there is phyfick: and this news, That would, had I been well, have made me fick, Out of his keeper's arms; ev'n fo my limbs Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with grief, Are thrice themfelves. Hence therefore, thou nice crutch, A fcaly gauntlet now with joints of steel Muft glove this hand. And hence, thou fickly quoif, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, Bard. This trained paffion doth you wrong, my Lord; Sweet Sweet earl, divoree not wifdom from your honour. Of wounds and fears; and that his forward fpirit Bard. We all, that are engaged to this lofs, Mort. "Tis more than time; and, my most noble Lord, I hear for certain, and do speak the truth: The gentle Arch-bishop of York is up With well appointed powers: he is a man Who with a double furety binds his followers. My Lord, your fon, had only but the corps, But fhadows, and the fhews of men to fight. For that fame word, rebellion, did divide The action of their bodies from their fouls; And they did fight with queafinefs, conftrain' As men drink potions, that their weapons only Seem'd on our fide: but for their spirits and fouls, This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop Turns infurrection to religion; Supe Suppos'd fincere and holy in his thoughts, Get pofts, and letters, and make friends with speed; [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Street in London. Enter Sir John Falftaff, with bis Page bearing his fword and buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? Page. He faid, Sir, the water it self was a good healthy But for the party that own'd it, he might have more diseases than he knew for. water. The Fal. Men of all forts take a pride to gird at me. brain of this foolish-compounded-clay, Man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty in my felf, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a fow, that hath overwhelm'd all her litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to fet me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whorfon mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with an aglet 'till now but I will fet you neither in gold nor filver, but in vile apparel, and fend you back again to your mafter, for a jewel: The Juvenil, the Prince your mafter! whofe chin is not yet fledg'd; I will fooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he fhall get one on his cheek: yet he will not ftick to fay, his face is a face-royal. Heav'n may finish it when it will, it is not a hair amifs yet he may keep it ftill as a face-royal, for a barber fhall never earn fixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever fince his father was a batchelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can affure him. What faid Mr. Dombledon about the fatten for my short cloak and flops ? Page. He faid, Sir, you fhould procure him better affurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours, he lik'd not the fecurity. Fal. Let him be damn'd like the glutton, may his tongue be hotter! a whorfon Achitophel, a rafcally, yea-forfoothknave, to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon Security! the whorfon fmooth-pates do now wear nothing but high fhoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honeft taking up, then they must stand upon fecurity: I had as lief they would put rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to ftop it with fecurity. I looked he fhould have fent me two and twenty yards of fatten, as I am a true knight, and he fends me fecurity. Well, he may fleep in fecurity, for he hath the horn of abundance. And the lightness of his wife fhines through it, and yet cannot he fee, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. Where's Bardolph ? Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your Worship a horfe. Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horfe in Smithfield. If I could get me but a wife in the ftews, I were mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd. SCENE V. Enter Chief Juftice, and Servants. Page. Sir, here comes the Nobleman that committed the Prince for ftriking him, about Bardolph. Fal. Wait clofe, I will not fee him. Cb. Juft. What's he that goes there? 2 Ch. Juft. He that was in queftion for the robbery? Cb. Juft. What, to York? call him back again. Fal. Fal. Boy, tell him I am deaf. Page. You muft speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Juft. I am fure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. Go pluck him by the elbow. I muft fpeak with him. Serv. Sir John! Fal, What! a young knave and beg! are there not wars? is there not employment? doth not the King lack fubjects? do not the rebels need foldiers? though it be á fhame to be on any fide but one, it is worse fhame to beg, than to be on the worft fide, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. Serv. You miftake me, Sir. Fal. Why, Sir, did I fay you were an honest man? fetting my knighthood and my foldiership afide, I had lied in my throat, if I had faid fo. Serv. I pray you, Sir, then fet your knight-hood and your foldierfhip afide, and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you fay I am any other than an ho neft man. Fal. I give thee leave to tell me fo? I lay afide that which grows to me? if thou gett'ft any leave of me, hang me; if thou tak'ft leave, thou wert better be hang'd: you hunt-counter, hence; avaunt! Serv. Sir, my Lord would fpeak with you. Ch. Juft. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. My good Lord! God give your Lordship good time of day. am glad to fee your Lordship abroad; I heard fay, your Lordship was fick. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by advice. Your Lordship, though not clean paft your youth, hath yet fome fmack of age in you: fome relifh of the faltnefs of time; and I moft humbly befeech your Lordship, to have a reverend care of your health. Ch. Fuft. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. Fal. If it pleafe your Lordship, I hear his Majesty is return'd with fome difcomfort from Wales. C. Juft. I talk not of his Majesty: you would not came when I fent for you. Fal |