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Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet:
Why, he is dead.
Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. I see a strange confession in thine eye: Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin, To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so: The tongue offends not, that reports his death: And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead; Not he, which says the dead is not alive. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office; and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departing friend.
Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to believe That, which I would to heaven I had not seen : But these mine eyes saw him in bloody sta Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreath’d, 'To Harry Monmouth: whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, From whence with life he never more sprung up. In few, bis death (whose spirit lent a fire Even to the dullest peasant in his camp), Being bruited once, took fire and heat away From the best temper'd courage in bis troops: For from his metal was his party steeld; Which once in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. And as the thing that's heavy in itself, Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed;
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn..
Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your ho
Mor. The lives of all your loving complices [nour.
Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss,
Mor. 'Tis more than time: And, my most noble lord,
Turns insurrection to religion :
North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
SCENE II. LONDON. A Street. Enter Sir John Falstaff, with his Page bearing his
Sword and Buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water: but, for the party that owed it, he might have more diseases than he knew for.
Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to vent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judginent. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at niy heels. I was never manned with an agate till now: but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a
beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. -What said master Dumbleton about the satin, for my short cloak, and slops ?
Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security.
Fál. Let him be damned like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter-A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security !—The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon -security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with secarity. I looked he should have sent me two-and-twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. - Where's Bardolph?
Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse.
Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield': an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.
Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendunt. Puge. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph.
Ful. Wait close; I will not see him.