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! PIST. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! Where is the life that late I led? say they: Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. London. A street. Enter Beadles, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY HOST. 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 BEAD. 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. DOL. 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. HOST. 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 BEAD. 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 and Pistol beat amongst you. you DOL. 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 BEAD. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. HOST. O God, that right should thus overcome might! Well, of sufferance comes ease. DOL. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice. HOST. Ay, come, you starved blood-hound. DOL. Goodman death, goodman bones! DOL. Come, you thin thing; come, you rascal. [Exeunt. SCENE V. A public place near Westminster Abbey. Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes. FIRST GROOM. More rushes, more rushes. SEC. 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. FAL. 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. PIST. God bless thy lungs, good knight. FAL. 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. SHAL. It doth so. FAL. It shows my earnestness of affection, SHAL. It doth so. FAL. My devotion, SHAL. It doth, it doth, it doth. FAL. As it were, to ride day and night; and not to deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience to shift me,— SHAL. It is best, certain. FAL. 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. PIST. 'Tis semper idem, for obsque hoc nihil est: 'tis all in every part. SHAL. 'Tis So, indeed. PIST. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, I And make thee rage. Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts, By most mechanical and dirty hand: Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's snake, For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth. [Shouts within, and the trumpets sound. PIST. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. Enter the KING and his train, the Lord Chief Justice among them. FAL. God save thy grace, King Hal! my royal Hal! PIST. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame! FAL. God save thee, my sweet boy! KING. Mylord chief-justice, speak to that vain man. CH. JUST. Have you your wits? know you what 'tis you speak? FAL. My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart! KING. I know thee not, old man: fall to thy prayers; How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape Reply not to me with a fool-born jest: For God doth know, so shall the world perceive, Set on. [Exeunt KING, etc. FAL. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound. SHAL. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have home with me. FAL. 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. SHAL. I cannot well perceive how, unless you should give me your doublet and stuff me out |