PRINCE

Before God, I am exceeding weary. Shall I tell thee one thing Poynes? No? how might a prince of my great Hope's forget, So great indignities you laid upon me? What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison, That immediate heir of England? was this easy? May this be washed in lethy and forgotten? Faith it does me, though it discolors the complexi on of my greatness to acknowledge it: does it not show vildly in me to desire small beer? Belike then my appetite was not princely goat, for by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature small beer. But indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name? or to know thy face to morrow? or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast with these, and those that were thy peach coloured once, or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, as one for superfluity, and another for use. But that the Tennis court keeper knows better than I, for it is a low eb of linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there, as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of the low Con tries have eat up thy holland: and God knows whither those that bal out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the Midwines say, the children are not in the fault where upon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily strength ned. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding then thine. Marry I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad now my father is sick, albeit I could tell to thee, as to one it pleases me for fault of a better to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed too. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devils book, as thou and Falstaff, for obduracy and persistancie, let the end try the man, but I tell thee, my heart bleeds inward lie that my father is so sick, and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sor row. What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep? It would be every men thought, and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks, never a men thought in the world, keeps the road way better then thine, every man would think me and hypocrite indeed, and what accites your most worshipful thought to think so? And to thee. And the boy that I gave Falstaff, a had him from me Christian, and look if the at villain have not transformed him Ape. And yours most noble Bardolf. Has not the boy profited? Instruct us boy, what dream boy? A crowns worth of good interpretation there 'tis boy. And how does thy master Bardolf? I do allow this Wen to be as familiar with me, as my dog and he holds his place, for look you how he writes. Nay they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet, but the letter, Sir John Falstaff knight, to the son of the king, nearest his father, Harry prince of Wales, greeting. Peace. I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity. Thats to make him eat twenty of his words, but do you use me, thus Ned? must I marry your sister? Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise fit in the clouds and mock us, is your ma ster here in London? Where sups he? does the old boar feed in the old Frank? What company? Sup any women with him? What Pagan may that be? Sirrah you boy and Bardolf, no word to your ma ster that I am yet come to town; theres for your silence. Fare you well: go, this Doll Tere-sheet should be some road. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to night in his true colours, and not our selves be seen? From a God to a bull, a heavy descension, it was Jove's case, from a pince to a prentice, a low transformation, that shall be mine, for in every thing the purpose must weigh with the folly, follow me Ned. exeunt. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off? Look where the withered elder hath not his poule clawd Like a parrot. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction? what says almanac to that? Why thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead? Very true sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears. You horson candlemine you, how vildly did you speak of me now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentle woman? Yea and you knew me as you did, when you ran away by Gadshil you knew I was at your back, and spoke it, on purpose to try my patience. I shall driven you then to confess the wilful abuse, and then I know how to handle you. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper, and I know not what? See now whither pure fear and entire cowardice, does not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us: is she of the wicked, is thine hostess here of the wic ked, or is thy boy of the wicked or honest Bardolf whose zeal burns in his nose of the wicked? For the Women. You gentlewoman. Peyto, how now, what news? By heaven Poines, I feel me much too blame, So idly to profane the precious time, When tempest of commotion Like the south. Born with black vapour does begin to melt, And drop upon our bore unarmed heads, Give me my sword and cloak: Falstaff good night. You are too shallow Hastings, much too shallow, To owned the bottom of the after times. I Like them all, and do allow them well, And swear here by the honour of my blood, My father's purposes have been mistook, And some about him have too lavishly, Wrested his meaning and authority. My Lord, these griefs shall be with S ed redressed, Upon my soul they shall, if this may please you, Discharge your powers unto their several counties, As we will ours, and here between the armies, Lets drink together friendly and embrace, That all their eyes may bea e those tokens home, Of our restored love and amity. Go Captain, and deliver to the army This news of peace, let them have pay, and partly. I know it will well please them, High thee captain. Go my lord, And let our army be discharged too, And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains March by us, that we may peruse the men, We should have coap't withal. I trust Lords we shall lie to night together: Now cousin, wherefore stands our army still? They know their duties. enter Hastings I pawnde thee none, I promised you redress of these same grievances Whereof you did complain, which by mine honour I will perform, with a most christian care. But for you rebels, look to taste the endue Meet for rebellion: Most shallowly did you these arms commence, Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence. Strike up our drums, pursue the scattered stray: God, and not we, hath safely fought to day: Some guard this traitor to the block of death, Treasons true bed, and yeelder up of breath. Thine too heavy to mount. Thines too thick to shine. Is thy name Colleuile? A famous rebel art thou Colleuile. Now, have you left pursuit? Send Colleuile with his confederates To York to present execution, Blunt lead him hence, and see you guard him sure. And now dispatch we towards the court my lords, I hear the King my father is soar sick, Our news shall go before us to his majesty, Which cousin you shall bear to comfort him, And we with sober speed will follow you. Fare you well Falstaff, I, in my condition shall better speak of you then you deserve. Who saw the duke of Clarence? How now, rain within doors, and none abroad? How does the King? Herd he the good news yet? tell it him. If he be sick with joy, heel recover without phi sick. No, I will fit and watch here by the King. Why does the Crown he there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? Oh polished perturbation! golden care! That keepest the ports of Slumber open wide To many a watchful night, sleep with it now! Yet not so found, and half so deeply sweet, As he whose brow (with homely biggen bound) Snores out the watch of night. Oh majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost fit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, That scaldst with safety (by his gates of breath) There lies a dowlny feather which stirs not, Did he suspire, that light and weightless dowlne Perforce must move my gracious lord my father: This sleep is found indeed, this is a sleep, That from this golden Rigoll hath diuorst So many English Kings, thy dew from me, Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, Which nature, love, and filial tenderness Shall (Oh deer father) pay thee plenteously: My endue from thee is this imperial Crown, Which as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives it self to me: lo where it sits, Which God shall guard, and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force, This lineal honour from me, this from thee Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. exit. Oh pardon me, my liege, but for my tears, The moist impediments unto my speech, I had forestald this deer and deep rebuke, Ere you with grief had spoke, and I had herd The course of it so far: there is your crown: And he that wears the crown immortally, Long guard it yours: if I affect it more, Then as your honour, and as your renown, Let me no more from this obedience rise, Which my most inward true and duteous spirit, Teaches this prostrate and exterior bending, God witness with me. When I here came in, And found no course of breath within your majesty, How cold it struck my heart! if I do feign, Oh let me in my present wildness die, And never live to show incredulous world, The noble change that I have purposed. Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, I spoke unto this crown as having fence, And thus upbraided it: the care on thee depending, Hath fed upon the body of my father, Therefore thou best of gold, art worse then gold, Other less fine, in karrat more precious, Preserving life in medicine potable: But thou, most fine, most honoured, most renowned, Hast eat thy bearer up: thus my most royal liege, Accusing it, I put it on my head, To try with it as, with and enemy, That had before my face murdered my father, The quarrel of a true inheritor, But if it did infect my blood with joy, Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride, If any rebel or vain spirit of mine, Did with the least affection of a welcome, Give entertainment to the might of it, Let God for ever keep it from my head, And make me as the poorest vassal is, That does with awe and terror kneel to it. You wone it, wore it, kept it, gave it me, Then plain and right must my possession be, Which I with more then with a common pain, Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain. enter Lancaster. My Lord of Warwick. This new and gorgeous garment Majesty Sits not so easy on me, as you think: Brother's, you mixed your sadness with some fear, This is the English, not the Turkish court. Not Amurath and Amurath succeeds, But Harry Harry: yet be sad, good brother's, For by my faith it very well becomes you: Sorrow so royally in you appears, That I will deeply put the fashion on, And wear it in my heart: why then be sad. But entertain no more of it, good brother's, Then a joint burden laid upon us all, For me, by heaven (I bid you be assure) I'll be your father, and your brother too, Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares: Yet weep that Harries dead, and so will I, But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears By number into hours of happiness e. You all look strangely on me, and you most You are I think assure I love you not. 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 shall 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: And 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, Th'vnstained sword that you have used to bear, With this remembrance, that you use the same With the Like bold, joust, 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 found as you do prompt mine ear And I will stoop and humble my intents, To your well practizde wise directions. And princes all, believe me I beseech you, My father is gone wild into his graven: For in his tomb lie my affections, And with his spirits 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 slowed in vanity till now: Now does 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 governed Nation, That war, or peace, or both at once, may be, As things acqu inted and familiar to us, In which you father shall have foremost hand: Our coronation done, we will accite, (As I before remembered) all our state, And (God consigning to my good intents,) No prince nor peer shall have joust cause to say, God shorten Harries happy life one day. exit. Even such kin as the parish Hei fors are to the town ull, shall we steal upon them Ned at supper? The word of peace is rendered hark how they shout. From enemies heavens keep your majesty, And when they stand against you may they fallen As those that I am come to tell you of: The Earl Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolf, With a great power of English, and of Scots, Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown, The manner, and true order of the fight, This packet, please it you, contains at large. I never thought to hear you speak again.