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Henry IV, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1598).

Author: William Shakespeare
Not Peer Reviewed
The Second part of
Falst. Not so my lord, your ill angell is light, but I hope he
that lookes vpon me will take me without weighing, and yet
in some respects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell, vertue is of
so little regard in these costar-mongers times, that true valour
430is turnd Berod, Pregnancie is made a Tapster, & his quick wit
wasted in giuing reckonings, all the other giftes appertinent
to man, as the malice of his age shapes the one not worth a
goosbery, you that are old consider not the capacities of vs that
435are yong, you doe measure the heate of our liuers with the bit-
ternesse of your galles, and we that are in the vaward of our
youth, I must confesse are wagges too.
Lo. Do you set downe your name in the scroule of youth,
that are written downe, old with all the characters of age? haue
440you not a moist eie, a dry hand, a yelow cheeke, a white beard,
a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? is not your voice broken,
your winde short, your chinne double, your wit single, and e-
uery part about you blasted with antiquitie, and will you yet
call your selfe yong? fie, fie, fie, sir Iohn.
445Iohn My Lorde, I was borne about three of the clocke in
the afternoone, with a white head, and something a round bel-
lie, for my voyce, I haue lost it with hallowing, and singing of
Anthems: to approoue my youth further, I will not: the truth
is, I am onely olde in iudgement and vnderstanding: and hee
that wil caper with me for a thousand markes, let him lend me
450the money, and haue at him for the boxe of the yeere that the
Prince gaue you, he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke
it like a sensible Lord: I haue checkt him for it, and the yong
lion repents, mary not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silke,
455and olde sacke.
Lord Well, God send the prince a better companion.
Iohn God send the companion a better prince, I cannot
ridde my hands of him.
Lord Well, the King hath seuerd you: I heare you are go-
460ing with lord Iohn of Lancaster, against the Archbishop and
the Earle of Northumberland.
Iohn Yea, I thanke your prety sweet witte for it: but looke
you