Part 7

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 noble L? 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 Appetite 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 shirts, 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 shift 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 worshipful 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