Henry IV, Part II

By gum, sir, you will not leave tonight. Hey, Davy!

Please excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.

I will not excuse you. You will not be excused. Excuses will not be allowed. No excuse will do. You will not be excused. Hey, Davy!

Here, sir.

Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let’s see, Davy, let’s see, Davy, let’s see. Oh yes, right: tell William the cook to come here. Sir John, you will not be excused.

Well sir, here’s the thing. Those warrants couldn’t be served. And once more, sir, should we plant wheat at the field’s edges?

Plant red wheat, Davy. But as for William the cook—aren’t there any young pigeons?

Yes, sir. Here’s the bill from the blacksmith for horseshoes and plow blades.

Check the figures and then and pay it. Sir John, you will not be excused.

Now, sir, we need some new chain for the bucket. And sir, do you plan to dock William’s pay for the wine he lost at the Hinckley fair?

He’ll pay for that. Some pigeons, Davy; a couple of short-legged hens, a leg of lamb, and any fun little fancy dishes. Tell William the cook.

Is the soldier staying all night?

Yes, Davy. I’ll take good care of him. A friend at court is better than money in your pocket. Take good care of his men, Davy. They’re good-for-nothings, and they’ll bite you.

No worse than they’re bitten, sir. Their clothes are full of lice.

Good one, Davy. Get on with your work, Davy.

Please, sir, rule in favor of William Visor of Woncot in his lawsuit against Clement Perkes of the hill.

Davy, there are a lot of suits against that Visor. That Visor is a good-for-nothing, as best I can tell.

I agree with your honor that he’s a good-for-nothing, but God forbid that a good-for-nothing should be denied a favor when his friend asks for one on his behalf. An honest man can speak for himself, but a good-for-nothing can’t. I’ve worked for you for eight years, sir. If I can’t get you to rule in favor of a good- for-nothing once in a while, then obviously you don’t think very much of me. That good-for-nothing is my good friend, sir. So I ask you, please: rule in his favor.

Stop now; I tell you he won’t be wronged. Now get going, Davy.

Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come. Take your boots off. Let me shake your hand, Master Bardolph.

I’m glad to see you, your honor.

I thank you with all my heart, Master Bardolph. (to the PAGE) Welcome, you tall fellow. Come, Sir John.

I’ll be right behind you, Master Robert Shallow.

Bardolph, get our horses ready.

If I were cut into pieces, I’d make four dozen bearded broomsticks like this Master Shallow. It’s amazing to see the similarity between his men’s dispositions and his own. They watch him and behave like foolish judges, and he, by associating with them, turns into a judge-like workman. Their spirits are so closely joined by their intimate involvement, they’re like a flock of wild geese that fly in formation. If I needed a favor from Judge Shallow, I would make his men think that I’m a close friend of his. If I needed something from his men, I would flatter Shallow by telling him that no one commands servants better than he does. One thing’s for sure: the behavior of a wise man and that of an idiot are contagious, like diseases. They spread from person to person, which is why people must be careful about the company they keep. I’ll come up with enough material about this Shallow to keep Prince Hal laughing nonstop for a year. That’s how much time it takes for the current fashion to change six times, or for two lawsuits to be completed. He’ll laugh with no intermission. Oh, a lie told with a measure of truth—or a joke told with a serious face—will go far with a young fellow, who has never had his shoulders weighed down by old age or worries. Oh, he’ll laugh until his face looks like a wet coat that was hung poorly—it’ll be all wrinkled from laughter.

(offstage) Sir John!

Coming, Master Shallow! Coming!