Act V
Scene I
Gloucestershire. Shallow’s house.
Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page. | |
Shallow | By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night. What, Davy, I say! |
Falstaff | You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow. |
Shallow | I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excused. Why, Davy! |
Enter Davy. | |
Davy | Here, sir. |
Shallow | Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see: yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excused. |
Davy | Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served: and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat? |
Shallow | With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook: are there no young pigeons? |
Davy | Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing and plough-irons. |
Shallow | Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused. |
Davy | Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must need be had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair? |
Shallow | A’ shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. |
Davy | Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? |
Shallow | Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i’ the court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite. |
Davy | No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen. |
Shallow | Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy. |
Davy | I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes of the hill. |
Shallow | There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor: that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge. |
Davy | I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend’s request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced. |
Shallow | Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy. Exit Davy. Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph. |
Bardolph | I am glad to see your worship. |
Shallow | I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph: and welcome, my tall fellow to the Page. Come, Sir John. |
Falstaff | I’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. Exit Shallow. Bardolph, look to our horses. Exeunt Bardolph and Page. If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits’ staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men’s spirits and his: they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man: their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild-geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore let men take heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, and a’ shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up! |
Shallow | Within. Sir John! |
Falstaff | I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow. Exit. |
Scene II
Westminster. The palace.
Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief-Justice, meeting. | |
Warwick | How now, my lord chief-justice! whither away? |
Chief-Justice | How doth the king? |
Warwick | Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended. |
Chief-Justice | I hope, not dead. |
Warwick |
He’s walk’d the way of nature;
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Chief-Justice |
I would his majesty had call’d me with him:
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Warwick | Indeed I think the young king loves you not. |
Chief-Justice |
I know he doth not, and do arm myself
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Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmoreland, and others. | |
Warwick |
Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry:
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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
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Lancaster | Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy! |
Chief-Justice | Peace be with us, lest we be heavier! |
Gloucester |
O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
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Lancaster |
Though no man be assured what grace to find,
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Clarence |
Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
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Chief-Justice |
Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour,
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Warwick | Here comes the prince. |
Enter King Henry the Fifth, attended. | |
Chief-Justice | Good morrow; and God save your majesty! |
King |
This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
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Princes | We hope no other from your majesty. |
King |
You all look strangely on me: and you most;
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Chief-Justice |
I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
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King |
No!
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Chief-Justice |
I then did use the person of your father;
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King |
You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
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Scene III
Gloucestershire. Shallow’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
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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!
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Falstaff | I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world. |
Pistol |
A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
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Falstaff |
O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
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Silence |
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Pistol |
Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
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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!
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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. |
Bardolph |
O joyful day!
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Pistol | What! I do bring good news. |
Falstaff | Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord Shallow—be what thou wilt; I am fortune’s steward—get on thy boots: we’ll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph! Exit Bardolph. Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow: I know the young king is sick for me. Let us take any man’s horses; the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are they that have been my friends; and woe to my lord chief-justice! |
Pistol |
Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
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Scene IV
London. A street.
Enter Beadles, dragging in Hostess Quickly and Doll Tearsheet. | |
Hostess | No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die, that I might have thee hanged: thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint. |
First Beadle | The constables have delivered her over to me; and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her: there hath been a man or two lately killed about her. |
Doll | Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I’ll tell thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal, an the child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain. |
Hostess | O the Lord, that Sir John were come! he would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry! |
First Beadle | If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you. |
Doll | I’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swinged for this—you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famished correctioner, if you be not swinged, I’ll forswear half-kirtles. |
First Beadle | Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. |
Hostess | O God, that right should thus overcome might! Well, of sufferance comes ease. |
Doll | Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice. |
Hostess | Ay, come, you starved blood-hound. |
Doll | Goodman death, goodman bones! |
Hostess | Thou atomy, thou! |
Doll | Come, you thin thing; come you rascal. |
First Beadle | Very well. Exeunt. |
Scene V
A public place near Westminster Abbey.
Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes. | |
First Groom | More rushes, more rushes. |
Second Groom | The trumpets have sounded twice. |
First Groom | ’Twill be two o’clock ere they come from the coronation: dispatch, dispatch. Exeunt. |
Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol, Bardolph, and Page. | |
Falstaff | Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will make the king do you grace: I will leer upon him as a’ comes by; and do but mark the countenance that he will give me. |
Pistol | God bless thy lungs, good knight. |
Falstaff | Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. O, if I had had time to have made new liveries, I would have bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But ’tis no matter; this poor show doth better: this doth infer the zeal I had to see him. |
Shallow | It doth so. |
Falstaff | It shows my earnestness of affection— |
Shallow | It doth so. |
Falstaff | My devotion— |
Shallow | It doth, it doth, it doth. |
Falstaff | As it were, to ride day and night; and not to deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience to shift me— |
Shallow | It is best, certain. |
Falstaff | But to stand stained with travel, and sweating with desire to see him; thinking of nothing else, putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be done but to see him. |
Pistol | ’Tis “semper idem,” for “obsque hoc nihil est:” ’tis all in every part. |
Shallow | ’Tis so, indeed. |
Pistol |
My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver,
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Falstaff | I will deliver her. Shouts within, and the trumpets sound. |
Pistol | There roar’d the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. |
Enter the King and his train, the Lord Chief-Justice among them. | |
Falstaff | God save thy grace, King Hal! my royal Hal! |
Pistol | The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame! |
Falstaff | God save thee, my sweet boy! |
King | My lord chief-justice, speak to that vain man. |
Chief-Justice | Have you your wits? know you what ’tis to speak? |
Falstaff | My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart! |
King |
I know thee not, old man: fall to thy prayers;
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Falstaff | Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound. |
Shallow | Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have home with me. |
Falstaff | That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grieve at this; I shall be sent for in private to him: look you, he must seem thus to the world: fear not your advancements; I will be the man yet that shall make you great. |
Shallow | I cannot well perceive how, unless you should give me your doublet and stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me have five hundred of my thousand. |
Falstaff | Sir, I will be as good as my word: this that you heard was but a colour. |
Shallow | A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John. |
Falstaff | Fear no colours: go with me to dinner: come, Lieutenant Pistol; come, Bardolph: I shall be sent for soon at night. |
Re-enter Prince John, the Lord Chief-Justice; Officers with them. | |
Chief-Justice |
Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet:
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Falstaff | My lord, my lord— |
Chief-Justice |
I cannot now speak: I will hear you soon.
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Pistol | Si fortune me tormenta, spero contenta. Exeunt all but Prince John and the Chief-Justice. |
Lancaster |
I like this fair proceeding of the king’s:
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Chief-Justice | And so they are. |
Lancaster | The king hath call’d his parliament, my lord. |
Chief-Justice | He hath. |
Lancaster |
I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
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