Henry IV, Part II, William Shakespeare [love letters to the dead txt] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «Henry IV, Part II, William Shakespeare [love letters to the dead txt] 📗». Author William Shakespeare
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
Are in three heads: one power against the French,
And one against Glendower; perforce a third
Must take up us: so is the unfirm king
In three divided; and his coffers sound
With hollow poverty and emptiness. Archbishop
That he should draw his several strengths together
And come against us in full puissance,
Need not be dreaded.
If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm’d, the French and Welsh
Baying him at the heels: never fear that.
The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:
But who is substituted ’gainst the French,
I have no certain notice.
Let us on,
And publish the occasion of our arms.
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited:
An habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now trimm’d in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provokest thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl’st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,
Are now become enamour’d on his grave:
Thou, that threw’st dust upon his goodly head
When through proud London he came sighing on
After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Criest now “O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this!” O thoughts of men accursed!
Past and to come seems best; things present worst.
London. A street.
Enter Hostess, Fang and his Boy with her, and Snare following. Hostess Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang It is entered. Hostess Where’s your yeoman? Is’t a lusty yeoman? will a’ stand to’t? Fang Sirrah, where’s Snare? Hostess O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. Snare Here, here. Fang Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. Hostess Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. Snare It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. Hostess Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly: in good faith, he cares not what mischief he does, if his weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Fang If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. Hostess No, nor I neither: I’ll be at your elbow. Fang An I but fist him once; an a’ come but within my vice— Hostess I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he’s an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not ’scape. A’ comes continuantly to Pie-corner—saving your manhoods—to buy a saddle; and he is indited to dinner to the Lubber’s-head in Lumbert street, to Master Smooth’s the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is entered and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a beast, to bear every knave’s wrong. Yonder he comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. Enter Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph. Falstaff How now! whose mare’s dead? what’s the matter? Fang Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. Falstaff Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain’s head: throw the quean in the channel. Hostess Throw me in the channel! I’ll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill God’s officers and the king’s? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. Falstaff Keep them off, Bardolph. Fang A rescue! a rescue! Hostess Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo’t, wo’t thou? thou wo’t, wo’t ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed! Falstaff Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe. Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men. Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! Hostess Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. Chief-JusticeHow now, Sir John! what are you brawling here?
Doth this become your place, your time and business?
You should have been well on your way to York.
Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang’st upon him?
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