LightNovesOnl.com

Shakespeare's First Folio Part 309

Shakespeare's First Folio - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

Fal. As I am a Gentleman. Come, no more words of it Host. By this Heauenly ground I tread on, I must be faine to p.a.w.ne both my Plate, and the Tapistry of my dyning Chambers

Fal. Gla.s.ses, gla.s.ses, is the onely drinking: and for thy walles a pretty slight Drollery, or the Storie of the Prodigall, or the Germane hunting in Waterworke, is worth a thousand of these Bed-hangings, and these Flybitten Tapistries. Let it be tenne pound (if thou canst.) Come, if it were not for thy humors, there is not a better Wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy Action: Come, thou must not bee in this humour with me, come, I know thou was't set on to this

Host. Prethee (Sir Iohn) let it be but twenty n.o.bles, I loath to p.a.w.ne my Plate, in good earnest la

Fal. Let it alone, Ile make other s.h.i.+ft: you'l be a fool still

Host. Well, you shall haue it although I p.a.w.ne my Gowne. I hope you'l come to Supper: You'l pay me altogether?



Fal. Will I liue? Go with her, with her: hooke-on, hooke-on

Host. Will you haue Doll Teare-sheet meet you at supper?

Fal. No more words. Let's haue her

Ch.Iust. I haue heard bitter newes

Fal. What's the newes (my good Lord?) Ch.Iu. Where lay the King last night?

Mes. At Basingstoke my Lord

Fal. I hope (my Lord) all's well. What is the newes my Lord?

Ch.Iust. Come all his Forces backe?

Mes. No: Fifteene hundred Foot, fiue hundred Horse Are march'd vp to my Lord of Lancaster, Against Northumberland, and the Archbishop

Fal. Comes the King backe from Wales, my n.o.ble L[ord]?

Ch.Iust. You shall haue Letters of me presently.

Come, go along with me, good M[aster]. Gowre

Fal. My Lord

Ch.Iust. What's the matter?

Fal. Master Gowre, shall I entreate you with mee to dinner?

Gow. I must waite vpon my good Lord heere.

I thanke you, good Sir Iohn

Ch.Iust. Sir Iohn, you loyter heere too long being you are to take Souldiers vp, in Countries as you go

Fal. Will you sup with me, Master Gowre?

Ch.Iust. What foolish Master taught you these manners, Sir Iohn?

Fal. Master Gower, if they become mee not, hee was a Foole that taught them mee. This is the right Fencing grace (my Lord) tap for tap, and so part faire

Ch.Iust. Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great Foole.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prince Henry, Pointz, Bardolfe, and Page.

Prin. Trust me, I am exceeding weary

Poin. Is it come to that? I had thought wearines durst not haue attach'd one of so high blood

Prin. It doth me: though it discolours the complexion of my Greatnesse to acknowledge it. Doth it not shew vildely in me, to desire small Beere?

Poin. Why, a Prince should not be so loosely studied, as to remember so weake a Composition

Prince. Belike then, my Appet.i.te was not Princely got: for (in troth) I do now remember the poore Creature, Small Beere. But indeede these humble considerations make me out of loue with my Greatnesse. What a disgrace is it to me, to remember thy name? Or to know thy face to morrow? Or to take note how many paire of Silk stockings y hast? (Viz. these, and those that were thy peach-colour'd ones:) Or to beare the Inuentorie of thy s.h.i.+rts, as one for superfluity, and one other, for vse. But that the Tennis-Court-keeper knowes better then I, for it is a low ebbe of Linnen with thee, when thou kept'st not Racket there, as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy Low Countries, haue made a s.h.i.+ft to eate vp thy Holland

Poin. How ill it followes, after you haue labour'd so hard, you should talke so idlely? Tell me how many good yong Princes would do so, their Fathers lying so sicke, as yours is?

Prin. Shall I tell thee one thing, Pointz?

Poin. Yes: and let it be an excellent good thing

Prin. It shall serue among wittes of no higher breeding then thine

Poin. Go to: I stand the push of your one thing, that you'l tell

Prin. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet, that I should be sad now my Father is sicke: albeit I could tell to thee (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend) I could be sad, and sad indeed too

Poin. Very hardly, vpon such a subiect

Prin. Thou think'st me as farre in the Diuels Booke, as thou, and Falstaffe, for obduracie and persistencie. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my hart bleeds inwardly, that my Father is so sicke: and keeping such vild company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me, all ostentation of sorrow

Poin. The reason?

Prin. What would'st thou think of me, if I shold weep?

Poin. I would thinke thee a most Princely hypocrite

Prin. It would be euery mans thought: and thou art a blessed Fellow, to thinke as euery man thinkes: neuer a mans thought in the world, keepes the Rode-way better then thine: euery man would thinke me an Hypocrite indeede.

And what accites your most wors.h.i.+pful thought to thinke so?

Poin. Why, because you haue beene so lewde, and so much ingraffed to Falstaffe

Prin. And to thee

Pointz. Nay, I am well spoken of, I can heare it with mine owne eares: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second Brother, and that I am a proper Fellowe of my hands: and those two things I confesse I canot helpe.

Looke, looke, here comes Bardolfe

Prince. And the Boy that I gaue Falstaffe, he had him from me Christian, and see if the fat villain haue not transform'd him Ape.

Enter Bardolfe.

Bar. Saue your Grace

Prin. And yours, most n.o.ble Bardolfe

Poin. Come you pernitious a.s.se, you bashfull Foole, must you be blus.h.i.+ng? Wherefore blush you now? what a Maidenly man at Armes are you become? Is it such a matter to get a Pottle-pots Maiden-head?

Page. He call'd me euen now (my Lord) through a red Lattice, and I could discerne no part of his face from the window: at last I spy'd his eyes, and me thought he had made two holes in the Ale-wiues new Petticoat, & peeped through

Prin. Hath not the boy profited?

Bar. Away, you horson vpright Rabbet, away

Page. Away, you rascally Altheas dreame, away

Prin. Instruct vs Boy: what dreame, Boy?

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About Shakespeare's First Folio Part 309 novel

You're reading Shakespeare's First Folio by Author(s): William Shakespeare. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 734 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.