Act IV
Scene I
Yorkshire. Gaultree Forest.
Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Hastings, and others. | |
Archbishop | What is this forest call’d? |
Hastings | ’Tis Gaultree Forest, an’t shall please your grace. |
Archbishop |
Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth
|
Hastings | We have sent forth already. |
Archbishop |
’Tis well done.
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Mowbray |
Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
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Enter a Messenger. | |
Hastings | Now, what news? |
Messenger |
West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
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Mowbray |
The just proportion that we gave them out
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Archbishop | What well-appointed leader fronts us here? |
Enter Westmoreland. | |
Mowbray | I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland. |
Westmoreland |
Health and fair greeting from our general,
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Archbishop |
Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace:
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Westmoreland |
Then, my lord,
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Archbishop |
Wherefore do I this? so the question stands.
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Westmoreland |
When ever yet was your appeal denied?
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Archbishop |
My brother general, the commonwealth,
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Westmoreland |
There is no need of any such redress;
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Mowbray |
Why not to him in part, and to us all
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Westmoreland |
O, my good Lord Mowbray,
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Mowbray |
What thing, in honour, had my father lost,
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Westmoreland |
You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.
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Mowbray |
But he hath forced us to compel this offer;
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Westmoreland |
Mowbray, you overween to take it so;
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Mowbray | Well, by my will we shall admit no parley. |
Westmoreland |
That argues but the shame of your offence:
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Hastings |
Hath the Prince John a full commission,
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Westmoreland |
That is intended in the general’s name:
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Archbishop |
Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,
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Westmoreland |
This will I show the general. Please you, lords,
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Archbishop | My lord, we will do so. Exit Westmoreland. |
Mowbray |
There is a thing within my bosom tells me
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Hastings |
Fear you not that: if we can make our peace
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Mowbray |
Yea, but our valuation shall be such
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Archbishop |
No, no, my lord. Note this; the king is weary
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Hastings |
Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods
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Archbishop |
’Tis very true:
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Mowbray |
Be it so.
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Re-enter Westmoreland. | |
Westmoreland |
The prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship
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Mowbray | Your grace of York, in God’s name then, set forward. |
Archbishop | Before, and greet his grace: my lord, we come. Exeunt. |
Scene II
Another part of the forest.
Enter, from one side, Mowbray, attended; afterwards the Archbishop, Hastings, and others: from the other side, Prince John of Lancaster, and Westmoreland; Officers, and others with them. | |
Lancaster |
You are well encounter’d here, my cousin Mowbray:
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Archbishop |
Good my Lord of Lancaster,
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Mowbray |
If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
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Hastings |
And though we here fall down,
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Lancaster |
You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,
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Westmoreland |
Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly
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Lancaster |
I like them all, and do allow them well,
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Archbishop | I take your princely word for these redresses. |
Lancaster |
I give it you, and will maintain my word:
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Hastings |
Go, captain, and deliver to the army
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Archbishop | To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. |
Westmoreland |
I pledge your grace; and, if you knew what pains
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Archbishop | I do not doubt you. |
Westmoreland |
I am glad of it.
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Mowbray |
You wish me health in very happy season;
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Archbishop |
Against ill chances men are ever merry;
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Westmoreland |
Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow
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Archbishop | Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. |
Mowbray | So much the worse, if your own rule be true. Shouts within. |
Lancaster | The word of peace is render’d: hark, how they shout! |
Mowbray | This had been cheerful after victory. |
Archbishop |
A peace is of the nature of a conquest;
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Lancaster |
Go, my lord,
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Archbishop |
Go, good Lord Hastings,
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Lancaster | I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together. |
Re-enter Westmoreland. | |
Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? | |
Westmoreland |
The leaders, having charge from you to stand,
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Lancaster | They know their duties. |
Re-enter Hastings. | |
Hastings |
My lord, our army is dispersed already:
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Westmoreland |
Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which
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Mowbray | Is this proceeding just and honourable? |
Westmoreland | Is your assembly so? |
Archbishop | Will you thus break your faith? |
Lancaster |
I pawn’d thee none:
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Scene III
Another part of the forest.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile, meeting. | |
Falstaff | What’s your name, sir? of what condition are you, and of what place, I pray? |
Colevile | I am a knight, sir; and my name is Colevile of the dale. |
Falstaff | Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your degree, and your place the dale: Colevile shall be still your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a place deep enough; so shall you be still Colevile of the dale. |
Colevile | Are not you Sir John Falstaff? |
Falstaff | As good a man as he, sir, whoe’er I am. Do ye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy. |
Colevile | I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that thought yield me. |
Falstaff | I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifference, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb, undoes me. Here comes our general. |
Enter Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, Blunt, and others. | |
Lancaster |
The heat is past; follow no further now:
|
Falstaff | I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I never knew yet but rebuke and cheque was the reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered nine score and odd posts: and here, travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colevile of the dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, “I came, saw, and overcame.” |
Lancaster | It was more of his courtesy than your deserving. |
Falstaff | I know not: here he is, and here I yield him: and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day’s deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top on’t, Colevile kissing my foot: to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of fame o’ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins’ heads to her, believe not the word of the noble: therefore let me have right, and let desert mount. |
Lancaster | Thine’s too heavy to mount. |
Falstaff | Let it shine, then. |
Lancaster | Thine’s too thick to shine. |
Falstaff | Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will. |
Lancaster | Is thy name Colevile? |
Colevile | It is, my lord. |
Lancaster | A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. |
Falstaff | And a famous true subject took him. |
Colevile |
I am, my lord, but as my betters are
|
Falstaff | I know not how they sold themselves: but thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; and I thank thee for thee. |
Re-enter Westmoreland. | |
Lancaster | Now, have you left pursuit? |
Westmoreland | Retreat is made and execution stay’d. |
Lancaster |
Send Colevile with his confederates
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Falstaff |
My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go
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Lancaster |
Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition,
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Falstaff | I would you had but the wit: ’twere better than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh; but that’s no marvel, he drinks no wine. There’s never none of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards; which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish and dull and curdy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble fiery and delectable shapes, which, delivered o’er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme: it illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it a-work; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till sack commences it and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, sterile and bare land, manured, husbanded and tilled with excellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack. |
Enter Bardolph. | |
How now, Bardolph? | |
Bardolph | The army is discharged all and gone. |
Falstaff | Let them go. I’ll through Gloucestershire; and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, esquire: I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away. Exeunt. |
Scene IV
Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber.
Enter the King, the Princes Thomas of Clarence and Humphrey of Gloucester, Warwick, and others. | |
King |
Now, lords, if God doth give successful end
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Warwick |
Both which we doubt not but your majesty
|
King |
Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,
|
Gloucester | I think he’s gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. |
King | And how accompanied? |
Gloucester | I do not know, my lord. |
King | Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him? |
Gloucester | No, my good lord; he is in presence here. |
Clarence | What would my lord and father? |
King |
Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
|
Clarence | I shall observe him with all care and love. |
King | Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas? |
Clarence | He is not there to-day; he dines in London. |
King | And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? |
Clarence | With Poins, and other his continual followers. |
King |
Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
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Warwick |
My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite:
|
King |
’Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb
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Enter Westmoreland. | |
Who’s here? Westmoreland? | |
Westmoreland |
Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
|
King |
O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
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Enter Harcourt. | |
Look, here’s more news. | |
Harcourt |
From enemies heaven keep your majesty;
|
King |
And wherefore should these good news make me sick?
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Gloucester | Comfort, your majesty! |
Clarence | O my royal father! |
Westmoreland | My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up. |
Warwick |
Be patient, princes; you do know, these fits
|
Clarence |
No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs:
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Gloucester |
The people fear me; for they do observe
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Clarence |
The river hath thrice flow’d, no ebb between;
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Warwick | Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers. |
Gloucester | This apoplexy will certain be his end. |
King |
I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence
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Scene V
Another chamber.
The King lying on a bed: Clarence, Gloucester, Warwick, and others in attendance. | |
King |
Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
|
Warwick | Call for the music in the other room. |
King | Set me the crown upon my pillow here. |
Clarence | His eye is hollow, and he changes much. |
Warwick | Less noise, less noise! |
Enter Prince Henry. | |
Prince | Who saw the Duke of Clarence? |
Clarence | I am here, brother, full of heaviness. |
Prince |
How now! rain within doors, and none abroad!
|
Gloucester | Exceeding ill. |
Prince | Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him. |
Gloucester | He alter’d much upon the hearing it. |
Prince | If he be sick with joy, he’ll recover without physic. |
Warwick |
Not so much noise, my lords: sweet prince, speak low;
|
Clarence | Let us withdraw into the other room. |
Warwick | Will’t please your grace to go along with us? |
Prince |
No; I will sit and watch here by the king. Exeunt all but the Prince.
|
King | Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence! |
Re-enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest. | |
Clarence | Doth the king call? |
Warwick | What would your majesty? How fares your grace? |
King | Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? |
Clarence |
We left the prince my brother here, my liege,
|
King |
The Prince of Wales! Where is he? let me see him:
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Warwick | This door is open; he is gone this way. |
Gloucester | He came not through the chamber where we stay’d. |
King | Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow? |
Warwick | When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. |
King |
The prince hath ta’en it hence: go, seek him out.
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Re-enter Warwick. | |
Now, where is he that will not stay so long
|
|
Warwick |
My lord, I found the prince in the next room,
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King | But wherefore did he take away the crown? |
Re-enter Prince Henry. | |
Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
|
|
Prince | I never thought to hear you speak again. |
King |
Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought:
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Prince |
O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears,
|
King |
O my son,
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Prince |
My gracious liege,
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Enter Lord John of Lancaster. | |
King | Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. |
Lancaster | Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father! |
King |
Thou bring’st me happiness and peace, son John;
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Prince | My Lord of Warwick! |
Enter Warwick, and others. | |
King |
Doth any name particular belong
|
Warwick | ’Tis call’d Jerusalem, my noble lord. |
King |
Laud be to God! even there my life must end.
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