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I met and overtook a dozen captains,

Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,

And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.

PRINCE.

By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame

So idly to profane the precious time,

When tempest of commotion, like the south,

Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt

And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.

Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.

Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF.

Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we

must hence, and leave it unpick'd. [Knocking within] More

knocking at the door!

Re-enter BARDOLPH

How now! What's the matter?

BARDOLPH.

You must away to court, sir, presently;

A dozen captains stay at door for you.

FALSTAFF.

[To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.- 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 call'd 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 to burst!

Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

FALSTAFF.

Farewell, farewell.

Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

HOSTESS.

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.

BARDOLPH.

[Within] Mistress Tearsheet!

HOSTESS.

What's the matter?

BARDOLPH.

[Within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.

HOSTESS.

O, run Doll, run, run, good Come. [To BARDOLPH] She

comes blubber'd.- Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt

ACT III. SCENE I. Westminster. The palace

Enter the KING in his nightgown, with a page

KING.

Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters

And well consider of them. Make good speed. Exit page

How many thousands of my poorest subjects

Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,

Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,

That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down,

And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,

Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,

Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?

O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile

In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch

A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?

Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast

Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains

In cradle of the rude imperious surge,

And in the visitation of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,

Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them

With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,

That with the hurly death itself awakes?

Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose

To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;

And in the calmest and most stillest night,

With all appliances and means to boot,

Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter WARWICK and Surrey

WARWICK.

Many good morrows to your Majesty!

KING.

Is it good morrow, lords?

WARWICK.

'Tis one o'clock, and past.

KING.

Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.

Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?

WARWICK.

We have, my liege.

KING.

Then you perceive the body of our kingdom

How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,

And with what danger, near the heart of it.

WARWICK.

It is but as a body yet distempered;

Which to his former strength may be restored

With good advice and little medicine.

My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.

KING.

O God! 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