2632 Enter King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, 2633Sir Walter Blunt, [and] Falstaff. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
5.1.22636Above yon bulky hill! The day looks pale
At his distemperature. The southern wind
5.1.42639Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
5.1.52640And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
5.1.62641Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
Then with the losers let it sympathize,
5.1.82643For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
5.1.8.12644The trumpet sounds. Enter Worcester [and Vernon]. How now, my lord of Worcester? 'Tis not well
5.1.102647That you and I should meet upon such terms
5.1.112648As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,
5.1.122649And made us doff our easy robes of peace
5.1.132650To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.
5.1.142651This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
5.1.152652What say you to it? Will you again unknit
5.1.182655Where you did give a fair and natural light,
5.1.212658Of broachèd mischief to the unborn times?
Hear me, my liege:
5.1.232660For mine own part, I could be well content
5.1.262663I have not sought the day of this dislike.
You have not sought it? How comes it, then?
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
Peace, chewet, peace!
It pleased your majesty to turn your looks
5.1.332670We were the first and dearest of your friends.
5.1.352672In Richard's time, and posted day and night
5.1.362673To meet you on the way and kiss your hand
5.1.372674When yet you were in place and in account
5.1.402677That brought you home, and boldly did outdare
5.1.412678The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
5.1.422679And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
5.1.432680That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state,
5.1.442681Nor claim no further than your new-fallen right,
5.1.452682The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:
5.1.462683To this we swore our aid. But in short space
5.1.472684It rained down fortune showering on your head,
5.1.482685And such a flood of greatness fell on you,
5.1.492686What with our help, what with the absent king,
5.1.502687What with the injuries of a wanton time,
5.1.512688The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
5.1.522689And the contrarious winds that held the king
5.1.542691That all in England did repute him dead;
5.1.572694To gripe the general sway into your hand,
5.1.602697As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
5.1.612698Useth the sparrow -- did oppress our nest,
5.1.632700That even our love durst not come near your sight
5.1.642701For fear of swallowing. But with nimble wing
5.1.662703Out of your sight, and raise this present head,
5.1.682705As you yourself have forged against yourself,
These things indeed you have articulate,
5.1.732710Proclaimed at market crosses, read in churches,
5.1.752712With some fine color that may please the eye
5.1.762713Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
5.1.772714Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
In both your armies there is many a soul
5.1.842721Shall pay full dearly for this encounter
5.1.852722If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew
5.1.862723The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
5.1.882725This present enterprise set off his head,
5.1.902727More active-valiant or more valiant-young,
5.1.922729To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
5.1.932730For my part -- I may speak it to my shame --
5.1.972734I am content that he shall take the odds
5.1.992736And will, to save the blood on either side,
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
It will not be accepted, on my life.
Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge,
5.1.120.1Exeunt [all but] Prince [and] Falstaff. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle,
2761and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.
2763Say thy prayers, and farewell.
I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.
Why, thou owest god a death.
'Tis not due yet -- I would be loath to pay him before his
2767day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me?
2768Well, 'tis no matter, honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor
2769prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a leg?
2770No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No.
2772Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What
2773is in that word "honor"? What is that "honor"? Air. A trim
2774reckoning! Who hath it? He that died a'Wednesday. Doth he feel it?
2775No. Doth he hear it? No. 'Tis insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will
2776it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it.
2777Therefore I'll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And so ends
2779my catechism.