SCENE 1. Gloucestershire. Shallow's house.
[Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page.]
SHALLOW.
By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.
What, Davy, I say!
FALSTAFF.
You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.
SHALLOW.
I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused; excuses
shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall
not be excused. Why, Davy!
[Enter Davy.]
DAVY.
Here, sir.
SHALLOW.
Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; let me see,
Davy; let me see: yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither.
Sir John, you shall not be excused.
DAVY.
Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served; and,
again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat?
SHALLOW.
With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook: are there no
young pigeons?
DAVY.
Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing and
plough-irons.
SHALLOW.
Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
DAVY.
Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had: and, sir, do
you mean to stop any of William's wages, about the sack he lost the
other day at Hinckley fair?
SHALLOW.
A' shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legg'd
hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws,
tell William cook.
DAVY.
Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
SHALLOW.
Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i' the court is better
than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are
arrant knaves, and will backbite.
DAVY.
No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous
foul linen.
SHALLOW.
Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy.
DAVY.
I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot
against Clement Perkes of the hill.
SHALLOW.
There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor: that
Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.
DAVY.
I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet, God forbid,
sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend's request.
An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not.
I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot
once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I
have but a very little credit with your worship.
The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship,
let him be countenanced.
SHALLOW.
Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy.
[Exit Davy.]
Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots.
Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.
BARDOLPH.
I am glad to see your worship.
SHALLOW.
I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph: and
welcome, my tall fellow [to the Page]. Come, Sir John.
FALSTAFF.
I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
[Exit Shallow.]
Bardolph, look to our horses.
[Exeunt Bardolph and Page.]
If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such
bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to
see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his: they, by
observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices: he, by
conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man:
their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of
society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild-geese.
If I had a suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the
imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I would curry
with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants.
It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is
caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore let men take
heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow
to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six
fashions, which is four terms, or two actions; and a' shall laugh
without intervallums.
O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow
will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders!
O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!
SHALLOW.
[Within.] Sir John!
FALSTAFF.
I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.
[Exit.]
SCENE II. Westminster. The palace.
[Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief-Justice, meeting.]
WARWICK.
How now, my lord chief-justice! whither away?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
How doth the king?
WARWICK.
Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I hope, not dead.
WARWICK.
He 's walk'd the way of nature;
And to our purposes he lives no more.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I would his Majesty had call'd me with him:
The service that I truly did his life
Hath left me open to all injuries.
WARWICK.
Indeed I think the young king loves you not.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I know he doth not, and do arm myself
To welcome the condition of the time,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.
[Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmoreland, and
others.]
WARWICK.
Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry:
O that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places,
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!
CHIEF JUSTICE.
O God, I fear all will be overturn'd!
LANCASTER.
Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.
GLOUCESTER & CLARENCE.
Good morrow, cousin.
LANCASTER.
We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
WARWICK.
We do remember; but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
LANCASTER.
Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
GLOUCESTER.
O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your own.
LANCASTER.
Though no man be assured what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation:
I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
CLARENCE.
Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
Which swims against your stream of quality.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by the impartial conduct of my soul;
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall'd remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I'll to the king my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.
WARWICK.
Here comes the prince.
[Enter King Henry the Fifth, attended.]
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Good morrow; and God save your majesty!
KING.
This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear:
This is the English, not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
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 brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
I'll be your father and your brother too;
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares:
Yet weep that Harry 's dead, and so will I;
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.
PRINCES.
We hope no otherwise from your majesty.
KING.
You all look strangely on me: and you most;
You are, I think, assured I love you not.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
KING.
No!
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
The immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me;
And, in the administration of his law,
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 judgement;
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 profaned,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
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 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
The unstained sword that you have used 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-practised 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.
Our coronation done, we will accite,
As I before remember'd, all our state:
And, God consigning to my good intents,
No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,
God shorten Harry's happy life one day!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Gloucestershire. Shallow's orchard.
[Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, and the Page.]
SHALLOW.
Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat
a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with a dish of caraways,
and so forth: come, cousin Silence: and then to bed.
FALSTAFF.
'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
SHALLOW.
Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John:
marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy: well said, Davy.
FALSTAFF.
This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man
and your husband.
SHALLOW.
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. Now sit down, now sit down: come, cousin.
SILENCE.
Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
[Singing.]
And praise God 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.
FALSTAFF.
There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give you
a health for that anon.
SHALLOW.
Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
DAVY.
Sweet sir, sit; 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.]
SHALLOW.
Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there,
be merry.
SILENCE.
Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
[Singing.]
For women are shrews, both short and tall;
'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all;
And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry.
FALSTAFF.
I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle.
SILENCE.
Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.
[Re-enter Davy.]
DAVY.
There 's a dish of leather-coats for you. [To Bardolph.]
SHALLOW.
Davy!
DAVY.
Your worship! I'll be with you straight [To BARDOLPH.].
A cup of wine, sir?
SILENCE.
A cup of wine that 's brisk and fine,
[Singing.]
And drink unto the leman mine;
And a merry heart lives long-a.
FALSTAFF.
Well said, Master Silence.
SILENCE.
An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night.
FALSTAFF.
Health and long life to you, Master Silence!
SILENCE.
Fill the cup, and let it come,
[Singing.]
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.
SHALLOW.
Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest anything and
wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief
[to the Page],
and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all
the cavaleros about London.
DAVY.
I hope 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.
SHALLOW.
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
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 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 doth so.
FALSTAFF.
It shows my earnestness of affection,--
SHALLOW.
It doth so.
FALSTAFF.
My devotion,--
SHALLOW.
It doth, it doth, it doth.
FALSTAFF.
As it were, to ride day and night; and not to deliberate, not to
remember, not to have patience to shift me,--
SHALLOW.
It is best, certain.
FALSTAFF.
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.
PISTOL.
'Tis "semper idem," for "obsque hoc nihil est:" 'tis all in
every part.
SHALLOW.
'Tis so, indeed.
PISTOL.
My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver,
And make thee rage.
Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts,
Is in base durance and contagious prison;
Haled thither
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.
FALSTAFF.
I will deliver her.
[Shouts, within, and the trumpets sound.]
PISTOL.
There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds.
[Enter the King and his train, the Lord Chief-Justice among
them.]
FALSTAFF.
God save thy grace, King Hal; my royal Hal!
PISTOL.
The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame!
FALSTAFF.
God save thee, my sweet boy!
KING.
My lord chief-justice, speak to that vain man.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Have you your wits? know you what 'tis you speak?
FALSTAFF.
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!
I have long dream'd of such a kind of man,
So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane;
But, being awaked, I do despise my dream.
Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;
Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape
For thee thrice wider than for other men.
Reply not to me with a fool-born jest:
Presume not that I am the thing I was;
For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,
That I have turn'd away my former self;
So will I those that kept me company.
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
The tutor and the feeder of my riots:
Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
Not to come near our person by ten mile.
For competence of life I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evils:
And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,
To see perform'd the tenour of our word.
Set on.
[Exeunt King, &c.]
FALSTAFF.
Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pounds.
SHALLOW.
Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have
home with me.
FALSTAFF.
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.
SHALLOW.
I cannot perceive how, unless you give me your doublet
and stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me
have five hundred of my thousand.
FALSTAFF.
Sir, I will be as good as my word: this that you heard was
but a colour.
SHALLOW.
A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John.
FALSTAFF.
Fear no colours: go with me to dinner: come, Lieutenant
Pistol; come, Bardolph: I shall be sent for soon at night.
[Re-enter Prince John, the Lord Chief-Justice; Officers with
them.]
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet:
Take all his company along with him.
FALSTAFF.
My lord, my lord,--
CHIEF JUSTICE.
I cannot now speak: I will hear you soon.
Take them away.
PISTOL.
Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.
[Exeunt all but Prince John and the Lord Chief-Justice.]
LANCASTER.
I like this fair proceeding of the king's:
He hath intent his wonted followers
Shall all be very well provided for;
But all are banish'd till their conversations
Appear more wise and modest to the world.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
And so they are.
LANCASTER.
The king hath call'd his parliament, my lord.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
He hath.
LANCASTER.
I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
We bear our civil swords and native fire
As far as France: I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
Come, will you hence?
[Exeunt.]
EPILOGUE.
Spoken by a Dancer.
First my fear; then my courtesy; last my speech. My fear is, your
displeasure; my courtesy, 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 mine own marring. But to the
urpose, 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 meant 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 would 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 cloy'd 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 a' 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.
