Henry IV, Part II, William Shakespeare [love letters to the dead txt] 📗

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

Do me right, singing
And dub me knight:
Samingo.

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!
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.

Falstaff I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world. Pistol

A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
I speak of Africa and golden joys.

Falstaff

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

Silence

And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. Singing.

Pistol

Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
And shall good news be baffled?
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.

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!
Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king;
Harry the Fifth’s the man. I speak the truth:
When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like
The bragging Spaniard.

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!
I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

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!
“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 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