KING HENRY IV.

THE SECOND PART.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

A Street in London.

Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, and his PAGE following him, with his Sword and Buckler.

Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my

water?

Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water but, for the party that ow'd it, he might have more diseases than he knew for.

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why, then I have no judgment. Thou

whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels.-What said Master Dommelton about the satin for my short cloak, and my slops ?

Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security.

his

Fal. Let him be damn'd like the glutton! may tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally, yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security!--I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he should have sent me two-and-twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security.-Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph ?

Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse.

Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: If I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.

Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince, for striking him about Bardolph.

Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE and Two AP

PARITORS.

Fal. Wait close, I will not see him.
Ch. Just. What's he that goes there?

App. Falstaff, an't please your lordship.

Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? -Call him back again.

App. Sir John Falstaff!

Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf.

Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any

thing good.-Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him.

App. Sir John,

Fal. What, a young knave, and beg? Is there not wars? Is there not employment?

App. You mistake me, sir.

Fal. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat, if I had said so.-Hence! avaunt!

App. Sir, my lord would speak with you.

Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

Fal. My good lord!-Heaven give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard say, your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care of your health.

Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury.

Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales.

Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty:-you would not come when I sent for you.

Fal. And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy.

Ch. Just. Well, Heaven mend him!-I pray, let me speak with you.

Fal. This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.

Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is.

Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from study, and perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of his effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness,

Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you.

Fal. Very well, my lord, very well.

Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.

Ful. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less.

Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.

Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater, and my waist slenderer.

Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince has misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.

Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel.

Fal. My lord, you that are old, consider not the capacities of us that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we, that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too.

Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!

Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice,-I have lost it with hollaing and singing of anthems. To approve my