# The Complete Works of William Shakespeare ## Part 59 Book page: https://www.cyberlibrary.org/en/books/the-complete-works-of-william-shakespeare-100/index.md 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 and others. WARWICK. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry. O that the living Harry had the temper Of he 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 th’ 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 Th’ 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 Th’ 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 [_Singing._] _Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, 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. [_Singing._] _Be merry, be merry, my wife has all, 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. Enter Davy. DAVY. [_To Bardolph_.] There’s a dish of leather-coats for you. SHALLOW. Davy! DAVY. Your worship? I’ll be with you straight. [_To Bardolph_] A cup of wine, sir? SILENCE. [_Singing._] _A cup of wine that’s brisk and fine, And drink unto thee, 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’ th’ night. FALSTAFF. Health and long life to you, Master Silence. SILENCE. [_Singing._] _Fill the cup, and let it come, I’ll pledge you a mile to th’ bottom._ SHALLOW. Honest Bardolph, welcome! If thou want’st 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 cabileros 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. He will not out, he. ’Tis 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. [_To Silence, seeing him take off a bumper_.] Why, now you have done me right. SILENCE. [_Singing._] _Do me right, 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. 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 he 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. [_Singing_.] _And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John._ 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 therefor. 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 bluebottle 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 bloodhound. 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._] Trumpets sound, and the King and his train pass over the stage. 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 he 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 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. 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 becomes a fool and jester! I have long dreamt 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 tenor of our word. Set on. [_Exeunt King with his train._] 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. Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Prince John, 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. First my fear; then my curtsy; last my speech. My fear is your displeasure; my curtsy, 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 purpose, 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 cloyed 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 anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already he 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. THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH Contents ACT I Prologue. Scene I. London. An ante-chamber in the King’s palace. Scene II. The same. The presence chamber. ACT II Chorus. Scene I. London. A street. Scene II. Southampton. A council-chamber. Scene III. London. Before a tavern. Scene IV. France. The King’s palace. ACT III Chorus. Scene I. France. Before Harfleur. Scene II. The same. Scene III. Before the gates. Scene IV. The French King’s palace. Scene V. The same. Scene VI. The English camp in Picardy. Scene VII. The French camp, near Agincourt. ACT IV Chorus. Scene I. The English camp at Agincourt. Scene II. The French camp. Scene III. The English camp. Scene IV. The field of battle. Scene V. Another part of the field. Scene VI. Another part of the field. Scene VII. Another part of the field. Scene VIII. Before King Henry’s pavilion. ACT V Chorus. Scene I. France. The English camp. Scene II. France. A royal palace. Epilogue. Dramatis Personæ KING HENRY V. DUKE OF CLARENCE, brother to the King. DUKE OF BEDFORD, brother to the King. DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, brother to the King. DUKE OF EXETER, uncle to the King. DUKE OF YORK, cousin to the King. EARL OF SALISBURY. EARL OF HUNTINGDON. EARL OF WESTMORLAND. EARL OF WARWICK. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. BISHOP OF ELY. EARL OF CAMBRIDGE. LORD SCROOP. SIR THOMAS GREY. SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, officer in King Henry’s army. GOWER, officer in King Henry’s army. FLUELLEN, officer in King Henry’s army. MACMORRIS, officer in King Henry’s army. JAMY, officer in King Henry’s army. BATES, soldier in the same. COURT, soldier in the same. WILLIAMS, soldier in the same. PISTOL. NYM. BARDOLPH. BOY. A Herald. CHARLES VI, king of France. LEWIS, the Dauphin. DUKE OF BERRY. DUKE OF BRITTANY. DUKE OF BURGUNDY. DUKE OF ORLEANS. DUKE OF BOURBON. The Constable of France. RAMBURES, French Lord. GRANDPRÉ, French Lord. Governor of Harfleur MONTJOY, a French herald. Ambassadors to the King of England. ISABEL, queen of France. KATHARINE, daughter to Charles and Isabel. ALICE, a lady attending on her. HOSTESS of a tavern in Eastcheap, formerly Mistress Nell Quickly, and now married to Pistol. CHORUS. Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, and Attendants. SCENE: England; afterwards France. PROLOGUE. Enter Chorus.