I met and overtook a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time; When tempest of commotion, like the south And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword and cloak :-Falstaff, good night. [Exeunt P. Henry, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. [knocking heard.] More knocking at the door? Re-enter BARDOLPH. How now? what's the matter? Bar. You must away to court, sir, presently; a dozen captains stay at door for you. Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah. [to the Page.]— Farewell, hostess ;-farewell, Doll.-You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after : the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches :- -if I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. Doll. I cannot speak;-if my heart be not ready Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. to burst. Fal. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph. Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester, and truer-hearted man,-Well, fare thee well. Bar. [within.] Mistress Tear-sheet, Host. What's the matter? Bar. [within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come to my master. Host. O, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. ACT II I. [Exeunt. SCENE I. A room in the palace. Enter KING HENRY in his night-gown, with a Page. K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of War wick; But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, And well consider of them. Make good speed. [Exit Page. How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness! Why, rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber; Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Enter WARWICK and SURrey. War. Many good morrows to your majesty! War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past. K. Hen. Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords. Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you } 1 Noise. War. We have, my liege. K. Hen. Then you perceive, the body of our kingdom How foul it is; what rank diseases grow, War. It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd; My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd. K. Hen. O heaven! that one might read the book of fate; And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea! and, other times, to see The beachy girdle of the ocean Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock, And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors! O, if this were seen, The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,— What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 'Tis not ten years gone, Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends, (You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember) [to Warwick. When Richard, with his eye brimfull of tears, Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy? Northumberland, thou ladder, by the which My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne ;—' Though then, Heaven knows, I had no such intent; But that necessity so bow'd the state, That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss : • The time shall come,' thus did he follow it, And the division of our amity. War. There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life; which in their seeds, And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of time; King Richard might create a perfect guess, K. Hen. Are these things then necessities? And that same word even now cries out on us. |