The happiest youth viewing his progrefs through,
What perils paft, what croffes to enfue,

Wou'd fhut the book, and fit him down and die.
'Tis not ten Years gone,

Since Richard and Northumberland, great Friends,
Did feast together; and in two years after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years fince,
This Percy was the man nearest my foul;
Who, like a brother, toil'd in my affairs;
And laid his love and life under my foot;
Yea, for my fake, ev'n to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by?
(You, coulin Nevil, as I may remember) [To War.
When Richard, with his eye brim-full of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
Did fpeak these words, now prov'd a prophecy.
Northumberland, thou ladder by the which

My coufin Bolingbroke afcends my Throne;

(Though then, Heav'n knows, I had no fuch intent; But that neceffity fo bow'd the State,

That I and Greatnefs were compell'd to kiss :)

The time fhall come, (thus did he follow it,)

The time will come, that foul fin, gathering head,
• Shall break into corruption: fo went on,
Foretelling this fame time's condition,
And the divifion of our amity.

War. There is a hiftory in all men's lives,
Figuring the Nature of the times deceas'd;
The which obferv'd, a man may prophefy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their feeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.

Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And by the neceffary form of this,

King Richard might create a perfect guefs,
That great Northumberland, then falfe to him,
Would of that feed grow to a greater falfenefs,

Which should not find a ground to root upon,
Unless on You.

K. Henry. Are these things then neceffities?
Then let us meet them like neceffities;

And that fame word even now cries out on us:
They say, the Bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand ftrong.

War. It cannot be:

Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the fear'd. Please it your Grace
To go to bed. Upon my life, my lord,

The Pow'rs, that you already have sent forth,
Shall bring this prize in very eafily.

To comfort you the more,
I have receiv'd
A certain inftance that Glendower is dead.
Your Majefty hath been this fortnight ill,
And these unfeafon'd hours perforce muft add
Unto your fick nefs.

K. Henry. I will take your counsel:

And were these inward wars once out of hand,
We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Changes to Justice Shallow's Seat in Gloucestershire.

Enter Shallow and Silence, Juftices; with Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, and Bull-calf.

OME on, come on, come on; give me

Shal your hand, Sir; an early ftirrer, by the rood.

And how doth my good cousin Silence?

Sil. Good-morrow, good coufin Shallow.

Shal. And how doth my coufin, your bed-fellow? and your fairest daughter, and mine, my god-daughter

Ellen?

Sil.

Sil. Alas, a black ouzel, coufin Shallow.

Shal. By yea, and nay, Sir, I dare fay, my coufin William is become a good fcholar: he is at Oxford ftill, is he not?

Sil. Indeed, Sir, to my coft.

Shal He must then to the Inns of Court fhortly: I was once of Clement's-Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Sil. You were call'd lufty Shallow then, coufin.

Shal. I was call'd any thing, and I would have done any thing, indeed, too, and roundly too. There was. I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cot's-wold man, you had not four fuch fwinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again: and I may fay to you, we knew where the Bona-Roba's were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, (now Sir John) a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Sil. This Sir John, coufin, that comes hither anon about Soldiers?

Shal. The fame Sir John, the very fame: I faw him break Schoggan's head at the Court-gate, when he was a crack, not thus high; and the very fame day I did fight with one Sampfon Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Grays-Inn. O the mad days that I have fpent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead? Sil. We fhall all follow, coufin.

Shal. Certain, 'tis certain, very fure, very fure. Death (as the Pfalmist faith) is certain to all, all shall die. How a good yoke of Bullocks at Stamford Fair? Sil. Truly, coufin, I was not there.

Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?

Sil. Dead, Sir.

Shal. Dead! fee, fee, he drew a good bow: and dead? he shot a fine fhoot. John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! he

H 3

would

would have clapt in the clowt at twelve fcore, and carried fore-hand fhaft a fourteen and fourteen you a and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to fee.- How a fcore of ewes now?

Sil. Thereafter as they be: a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.

Sil.

Shal. And is old Double dead?

H'

Enter Bardolph, and Page.

ERE come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as
I think.

Shal. Good-morrow, honeft gentlemen.

Bard. I beseech you, which is Juftice Shallow? Shal. I am Robert Shallow, Sir, a poor Efquire of this Country, one of the King's Juftices of the peace: what is your good pleasure with me?

Bard. My captain, Sir, commends him to you: my captain Sir John Falstaff; a tall gentleman, by heav'n! and a moft gallant leader.

Shal. He greets me well: Sir, I knew him a good back-fword man. How doth the good Knight? may I afk, how my lady his wife doth?

Bard. Sir, pardon, a foldier is better accommodated than with a wife.

Shal. It is well faid, Sir; and it is well faid, indeed, too better accommodated-it is good, yea, indeed, is it; good phrafes, furely, are, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated-it comes of accommodo; very good, a good phrafe.

Bard. Pardon me, Sir, I have heard the word. Phrafe, call you it? by this day, I know not the phrafe: but I will maintain the word with my fword, to be a foldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodated, that is, when a man is, as they fay, accommodated; or, when a

man

man is, being whereby he may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

Shal.

Tis very juft: look, here comes good Sir John.

I Give your good hand: give me your

Worlhip's good hand: truft me, you look well, and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John. Fal. I am glad to fee you well, good mafter Robert Shallow Mafter Sure-card, as I think,

:

Shal. No, Sir John, it is my coufin Silence; in Commiffion with me.

Fal. Good mafter Silence, it well befits, you should be of the peace.

Sil. Your good Worship is welcome.

Fal. Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen; have you provided me here half a dozen of fufficient men? Shal. Marry, have we, Sir: will you fit? Fal. Let me fee them, I beseech you.

Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll? let me fee, let me fee, let me fee: so, so, so, fo: yea, marry, Sir. Ralph Mouldy:-let them appear as I call let them do fo, let them do so. :

me fee, where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, if it please you.

Let

Shal. What think you, Sir John? a good limb'd fellow young, ftrong, and of good friends.

:

Fal. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, if it please you.

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, moft excellent, i'faith. Things, that are mouldy, lack ufe: very fingular good. Well faid, Sir John, very well faid.

Fal. Prick him.

Moul. I was prickt well enough before, if you could

H 4

have