Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought;
To pluck down justice from your awful bench;
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person :
Nay, more; to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father, and propose a son :
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdained;
And then imagine me taking your part,
And, in your power, soft silencing your son:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state,
What I have done, that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

King. You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;

Therefore still bear the balance, and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may increase,
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.

So snai I live to speak my father's words;
Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
That dares do justice on my proper son:
Ana not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice. You did commit me :
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this remembrance, - That you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me There is my hand;
You shall be as a father to my youth:
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well practis'd, wise directions.
And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you ; —
My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his spirit sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world;
To frustrate prophecies; and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity, till now :
Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea;
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament:
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd nation.
That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us;
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
[To the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.
Our coronation done, we will accite,
As I before remember'd, all our state
And (God consigning to my good intents,)

Shall. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy; Well said, Davy. Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man, and your husbandman. Shal. 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. sit down, now sit down:

come, cousin.

Now

Sil. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a.-we shall
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, [Singing.
And praise heaven for the merry year ;
When flesh is cheap and females dear,
And lusty lads roam here and there,
So merrily,

And ever among so merrily.

Fal. There's a merry heart! - Good master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon.

Shal. Give master Bardolph some wine, Davy. Davy. Sweet sir, sit; [seating BARDOLPH and the Page at another table.] 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. Shal. Be merry, master Bardolph; — and my little soldier there, be merry.

Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife's as all; [Singing. For women are shrews, both short and tall; 'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,

And welcome merry skrove-tide.

Be merry, be merry, &c.

Fal. I did not think, master Silence had been a man of this mettle.

Sil. Who I? I have been merry twice and once,

And a merry heart lives long-a. Fal. Well said, master Silence. Sil. And we shall be merry; - now comes in the sweet of the night.

Fat. Health and long life to you, master Silence. Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come; I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom. Shai. 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, toc. I II drink to master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleroes about London. Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die. Bard. An I might see you there, Davy, Shal. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together. Ha! will you not, master Bardolph ?

Bard. Yes, sir, in a pottle pot.

Shal. I thank thee: - The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that he will not out; he is true bred.

Bard. And I'll stick by him, sir. Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry. [Knocking heard.] Look who's at door there: Ho! who knocks? [Exit DAVY. Fal. Why, now you have done me right. [To SILENCE, who drinks a bumper. Sil. Do me right, [Singing. And dub me knight:

Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
Sir John, I am thy Pistol, and thy friend,

And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price.
Fal. I pr'ythee now, deliver them like a man of
this world.

Pist. A foutra for the world, and worldings base! I speak of Africa, and golden joys.

Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let king Cophetua know the truth thereof.

Sil. And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. [Sings. Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? And shall good news be baffled?

Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.

Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

Pist. Why then, lament, therefore.

Shal. Give me pardon, sir; - If, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it, there is but two ways; either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority. Pist. Under which king, Bezonian ? speak, or die. Shal. Under king Harry.

Pist.

Harry the fourth? or fifth?

Bard. O joyful day !—I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

Pist. What? I do bring good news?

Fal. 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 BARD.] 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. Happy are they which 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, an DOLL TEAR-SHEET.

Host. No, thou arrant knave; I would I might die, that I might have thee hanged: thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.

1 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.

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 hadst better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paperfaced 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! 1 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 you and Pistol beat among you.

Doll. I'll tell thee what, thou 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.

1 Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come. Host. O, that right should thus overcome might! Well; of sufferance comes ease.

Doll. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.

Host. Ay; come, you starved blood-hound, Doll. Goodman death! goodman bones! Host. Thou atomy thou!

Doll. Come, you thin thing; come, you rascal! 1 Bead. Very well.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.- A publick Place near Westminster Abbey.

Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes.

1 Groom. More rushes, more rushes.

2 Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice.

First, my fear; then my court'sy: last, my speech. My fear is, your displeasure; my court'sy, my duty; and my speech, to beg your pardons. If you look for a good speech now, you undo me: for what I have to say, is of mine own making; and what, indeed, I should say, will, I doubt, prove nine own marring. But to the purpose, and so to the venture.-Be it known to you, (as it is very well,) I was lately here in the end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it, and to promise you a better. I did mean, indeed, to pay you with this; which, if, like an ill venture, it come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle creditors, lose. Here, I promised you, I would be, and here I commit my body to your mercies: bate me some, and I will pay you some, and, as most debtors do, promise you infinitely.

If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me,

will you command me to use my legs? and yet that were but light payment,- - to dance out of your debt. But a good conscience will make any possible satisfaction, and so will I. All the gentlewomen here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, which was never seen before in such an assembly.

One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair Katharine of France. where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already he be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid you good night: and so kneel down before you; but, indeed, to pray for the queen.

Sir THOMAS ERPINGHAM, GOWER, FLUELLEN, MACMORRIS, JAMY, officers in King Henry's army.

BATES, COURT, WILLIAMS, soldiers in the same. NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, formerly servants to Falstaff, now soldiers in the same.

Boy, servant to them.

A Herald.

Chorus.

CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.

DUKES OF BURGUNDY, ORLEANS, and BOURBON.
The CONSTABLE of France.

RAMBURES and GRANDPREE, French lords.

Governor of Harfleur.

MONTJOY, a French herald.

Ambassadors to the King of England.

ISABEL, Queen of France.

KATHARINE, daughter of Charles and Isabel.

ALICE, a lady attending on the Princess Katharine. QUICKLY, Pistol's wife, an hostess.

Enter Chorus.

O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention ! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and, at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,

And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work :
Suppose, within the girdle of these walls
Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance :

Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them

The flat unraised spirit, that hath dar'd,
On this unworthy scaffold, to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O, the very casques,
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest, in little place, a million;

446

For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our

kings,

Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times;
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass; For the which supply,
Admit me chorus to this history;

Who, prologue-like, your humble patience prey,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.