The First part of King Henry the Fourth

 

By

 

William Shakespeare

 


CONTENTS:

 

ACT I 3

SCENE I. London. The palace. 3

SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. 7

SCENE III. London. The palace. 16

ACT II 27

SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. 27

SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. 32

SCENE III. Warkworth castle. 38

SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. 43

ACT III 69

SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. 69

SCENE II. London. The palace. 81

SCENE III. 86

ACT IV.. 96

SCENE I. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury. 96

SCENE II. A public road near Coventry. 102

SCENE III. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury. 106

SCENE IV. York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace. 111

ACT V.. 113

SCENE I. KING HENRY IV's camp near Shrewsbury. 113

SCENE II. The rebel camp. 118

SCENE III. Plain between the camps. 122

SCENE IV. Another part of the field. 126

SCENE V. Another part of the field. 134

 


ACT I

SCENE I. London. The palace.

 

    Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    So shaken as we are, so wan with care,

    Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,

    And breathe short-winded accents of new broils

    To be commenced in strands afar remote.

    No more the thirsty entrance of this soil

    Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;

    Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields,

    Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs

    Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,

    Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,

    All of one nature, of one substance bred,

    Did lately meet in the intestine shock

    And furious close of civil butchery

    Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,

    March all one way and be no more opposed

    Against acquaintance, kindred and allies:

    The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,

    No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,

    As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,

    Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross

    We are impressed and engaged to fight,

    Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;

    Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb

    To chase these pagans in those holy fields

    Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet

    Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd

    For our advantage on the bitter cross.

    But this our purpose now is twelve month old,

    And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:

    Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear

    Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,

    What yesternight our council did decree

    In forwarding this dear expedience.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    My liege, this haste was hot in question,

    And many limits of the charge set down

    But yesternight: when all athwart there came

    A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;

    Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,

    Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight

    Against the irregular and wild Glendower,

    Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,

    A thousand of his people butchered;

    Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,

    Such beastly shameless transformation,

    By those Welshwomen done as may not be

    Without much shame retold or spoken of.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    It seems then that the tidings of this broil

    Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    This match'd with other did, my gracious lord;

    For more uneven and unwelcome news

    Came from the north and thus it did import:

    On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,

    Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,

    That ever-valiant and approved Scot,

    At Holmedon met,

    Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,

    As by discharge of their artillery,

    And shape of likelihood, the news was told;

    For he that brought them, in the very heat

    And pride of their contention did take horse,

    Uncertain of the issue any way.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,

    Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.

    Stain'd with the variation of each soil

    Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;

    And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.

    The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:

    Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,

    Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see

    On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took

    Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son

    To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol,

    Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith:

    And is not this an honourable spoil?

    A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    In faith,

    It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin

    In envy that my Lord Northumberland

    Should be the father to so blest a son,

    A son who is the theme of honour's tongue;

    Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;

    Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:

    Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,

    See riot and dishonour stain the brow

    Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved

    That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged

    In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,

    And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!

    Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.

    But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,

    Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,

    Which he in this adventure hath surprised,

    To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,

    I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester,

    Malevolent to you in all aspects;

    Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up

    The crest of youth against your dignity.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    But I have sent for him to answer this;

    And for this cause awhile we must neglect

    Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

    Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we

    Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords:

    But come yourself with speed to us again;

    For more is to be said and to be done

    Than out of anger can be uttered.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    I will, my liege.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's.

 

    Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack

    and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon

    benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to

    demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know.

    What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the

    day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes

    capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the

    signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself

    a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no

    reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand

    the time of the day.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take

    purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not

    by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,

    I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God

    save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace

    thou wilt have none,--

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, none?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to

    prologue to an egg and butter.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not

    us that are squires of the night's body be called

    thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's

    foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the

    moon; and let men say we be men of good government,

    being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and

    chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the

    fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and

    flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is,

    by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold

    most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most

    dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with

    swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;'

    now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder

    and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my

    hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And

    is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and

    thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a

    buff jerkin?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a

    time and oft.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;

    and where it would not, I have used my credit.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent

    that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet

    wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when

    thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is

    with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do

    not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    No; thou shalt.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have

    the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my

    humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell

    you.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    For obtaining of suits?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman

    hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy

    as a gib cat or a lugged bear.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of

    Moor-ditch?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed

    the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young

    prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more

    with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a

    commodity of good names were to be bought. An old

    lord of the council rated me the other day in the

    street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet

    he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and

    yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the

    streets, and no man regards it.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able

    to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon

    me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew

    thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man

    should speak truly, little better than one of the

    wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give

    it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:

    I'll be damned for never a king's son in

    Christendom.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I

    do not, call me villain and baffle me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying

    to purse-taking.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a

    man to labour in his vocation.

 

    Enter POINS

    Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a

    match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what

    hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the

    most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to

    a true man.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Good morrow, Ned.

 

POINS

 

    Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?

    what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how

    agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou

    soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira

    and a cold capon's leg?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have

    his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of

    proverbs: he will give the devil his due.

 

POINS

 

    Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.

 

POINS

 

    But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four

    o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going

    to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders

    riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards

    for you all; you have horses for yourselves:

    Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke

    supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it

    as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff

    your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry

    at home and be hanged.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not,

    I'll hang you for going.

 

POINS

 

    You will, chops?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Hal, wilt thou make one?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good

    fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood

    royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Why, that's well said.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I care not.

 

POINS

 

    Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:

    I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure

    that he shall go.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him

    the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may

    move and what he hears may be believed, that the

    true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false

    thief; for the poor abuses of the time want

    countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!

 

    Exit Falstaff

 

POINS

 

    Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us

    to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot

    manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill

    shall rob those men that we have already waylaid:

    yourself and I will not be there; and when they

    have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut

    this head off from my shoulders.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How shall we part with them in setting forth?

 

POINS

 

    Why, we will set forth before or after them, and

    appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at

    our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure

    upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have

    no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our

    horses, by our habits and by every other

    appointment, to be ourselves.

 

POINS

 

    Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them

    in the wood; our vizards we will change after we

    leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram

    for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.

 

POINS

 

    Well, for two of them, I know them to be as

    true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the

    third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll

    forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the

    incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will

    tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at

    least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what

    extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this

    lies the jest.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things

    necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap;

    there I'll sup. Farewell.

 

POINS

 

    Farewell, my lord.

 

    Exit Poins

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I know you all, and will awhile uphold

    The unyoked humour of your idleness:

    Yet herein will I imitate the sun,

    Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

    To smother up his beauty from the world,

    That, when he please again to be himself,

    Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,

    By breaking through the foul and ugly mists

    Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

    If all the year were playing holidays,

    To sport would be as tedious as to work;

    But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,

    And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

    So, when this loose behavior I throw off

    And pay the debt I never promised,

    By how much better than my word I am,

    By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;

    And like bright metal on a sullen ground,

    My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,

    Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes

    Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

    I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;

    Redeeming time when men think least I will.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE III. London. The palace.

 

    Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

    Unapt to stir at these indignities,

    And you have found me; for accordingly

    You tread upon my patience: but be sure

    I will from henceforth rather be myself,

    Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition;

    Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

    And therefore lost that title of respect

    Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves

    The scourge of greatness to be used on it;

    And that same greatness too which our own hands

    Have holp to make so portly.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    My lord.--

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see

    Danger and disobedience in thine eye:

    O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,

    And majesty might never yet endure

    The moody frontier of a servant brow.

    You have good leave to leave us: when we need

    Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.

 

    Exit Worcester

    You were about to speak.

 

    To North

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Yea, my good lord.

    Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,

    Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

    Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

    As is deliver'd to your majesty:

    Either envy, therefore, or misprison

    Is guilty of this fault and not my son.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    My liege, I did deny no prisoners.

    But I remember, when the fight was done,

    When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,

    Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

    Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd,

    Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd

    Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;

    He was perfumed like a milliner;

    And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

    A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

    He gave his nose and took't away again;

    Who therewith angry, when it next came there,

    Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd,

    And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

    He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,

    To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse

    Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

    With many holiday and lady terms

    He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded

    My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.

    I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

    To be so pester'd with a popinjay,

    Out of my grief and my impatience,

    Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,

    He should or he should not; for he made me mad

    To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet

    And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman

    Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!--

    And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth

    Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;

    And that it was great pity, so it was,

    This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd

    Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

    Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd

    So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,

    He would himself have been a soldier.

    This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,

    I answer'd indirectly, as I said;

    And I beseech you, let not his report

    Come current for an accusation

    Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    The circumstance consider'd, good my lord,

    Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said

    To such a person and in such a place,

    At such a time, with all the rest retold,

    May reasonably die and never rise

    To do him wrong or any way impeach

    What then he said, so he unsay it now.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,

    But with proviso and exception,

    That we at our own charge shall ransom straight

    His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;

    Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd

    The lives of those that he did lead to fight

    Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower,

    Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March

    Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,

    Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?

    Shall we but treason? and indent with fears,

    When they have lost and forfeited themselves?

    No, on the barren mountains let him starve;

    For I shall never hold that man my friend

    Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost

    To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Revolted Mortimer!

    He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

    But by the chance of war; to prove that true

    Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,

    Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took

    When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,

    In single opposition, hand to hand,

    He did confound the best part of an hour

    In changing hardiment with great Glendower:

    Three times they breathed and three times did

    they drink,

    Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;

    Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

    Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,

    And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,

    Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.

    Never did base and rotten policy

    Colour her working with such deadly wounds;

    Nor could the noble Mortimer

    Receive so many, and all willingly:

    Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him;

    He never did encounter with Glendower:

    I tell thee,

    He durst as well have met the devil alone

    As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

    Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth

    Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer:

    Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,

    Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

    As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,

    We licence your departure with your son.

    Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.

 

    Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train

 

HOTSPUR

 

    An if the devil come and roar for them,

    I will not send them: I will after straight

    And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,

    Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:

    Here comes your uncle.

 

    Re-enter WORCESTER

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Speak of Mortimer!

    'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul

    Want mercy, if I do not join with him:

    Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,

    And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,

    But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer

    As high in the air as this unthankful king,

    As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Who struck this heat up after I was gone?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;

    And when I urged the ransom once again

    Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale,

    And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,

    Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd

    By Richard that dead is the next of blood?

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    He was; I heard the proclamation:

    And then it was when the unhappy king,

    --Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth

    Upon his Irish expedition;

    From whence he intercepted did return

    To be deposed and shortly murdered.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth

    Live scandalized and foully spoken of.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then

    Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer

    Heir to the crown?

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    He did; myself did hear it.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,

    That wished him on the barren mountains starve.

    But shall it be that you, that set the crown

    Upon the head of this forgetful man

    And for his sake wear the detested blot

    Of murderous subornation, shall it be,

    That you a world of curses undergo,

    Being the agents, or base second means,

    The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?

    O, pardon me that I descend so low,

    To show the line and the predicament

    Wherein you range under this subtle king;

    Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,

    Or fill up chronicles in time to come,

    That men of your nobility and power

    Did gage them both in an unjust behalf,

    As both of you--God pardon it!--have done,

    To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,

    An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?

    And shall it in more shame be further spoken,

    That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off

    By him for whom these shames ye underwent?

    No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem

    Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves

    Into the good thoughts of the world again,

    Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt

    Of this proud king, who studies day and night

    To answer all the debt he owes to you

    Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:

    Therefore, I say--

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Peace, cousin, say no more:

    And now I will unclasp a secret book,

    And to your quick-conceiving discontents

    I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,

    As full of peril and adventurous spirit

    As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud

    On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim:

    Send danger from the east unto the west,

    So honour cross it from the north to south,

    And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs

    To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Imagination of some great exploit

    Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,

    To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,

    Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

    Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,

    And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;

    So he that doth redeem her thence might wear

    Without corrival, all her dignities:

    But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    He apprehends a world of figures here,

    But not the form of what he should attend.

    Good cousin, give me audience for a while.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I cry you mercy.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Those same noble Scots

    That are your prisoners,--

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I'll keep them all;

    By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;

    No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:

    I'll keep them, by this hand.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    You start away

    And lend no ear unto my purposes.

    Those prisoners you shall keep.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Nay, I will; that's flat:

    He said he would not ransom Mortimer;

    Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;

    But I will find him when he lies asleep,

    And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'

    Nay,

    I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak

    Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him

    To keep his anger still in motion.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Hear you, cousin; a word.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    All studies here I solemnly defy,

    Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:

    And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,

    But that I think his father loves him not

    And would be glad he met with some mischance,

    I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you

    When you are better temper'd to attend.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool

    Art thou to break into this woman's mood,

    Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods,

    Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear

    Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.

    In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?--

    A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;

    'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,

    His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee

    Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,--

    'Sblood!--

    When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    At Berkley castle.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    You say true:

    Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

    This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!

    Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,'

    And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;'

    O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!

    Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Nay, if you have not, to it again;

    We will stay your leisure.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I have done, i' faith.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.

    Deliver them up without their ransom straight,

    And make the Douglas' son your only mean

    For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons

    Which I shall send you written, be assured,

    Will easily be granted. You, my lord,

 

    To Northumberland

    Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,

    Shall secretly into the bosom creep

    Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,

    The archbishop.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Of York, is it not?

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    True; who bears hard

    His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.

    I speak not this in estimation,

    As what I think might be, but what I know

    Is ruminated, plotted and set down,

    And only stays but to behold the face

    Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;

    And then the power of Scotland and of York,

    To join with Mortimer, ha?

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    And so they shall.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,

    To save our heads by raising of a head;

    For, bear ourselves as even as we can,

    The king will always think him in our debt,

    And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,

    Till he hath found a time to pay us home:

    And see already how he doth begin

    To make us strangers to his looks of love.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Cousin, farewell: no further go in this

    Than I by letters shall direct your course.

    When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,

    I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;

    Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,

    As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,

    To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,

    Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND

 

    Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short

    Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!

 

    Exeunt

 


ACT II

SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard.

 

    Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand

 

First Carrier

 

    Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be

    hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and

    yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!

 

Ostler

 

    [Within] Anon, anon.

 

First Carrier

 

    I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks

    in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out

    of all cess.

 

    Enter another Carrier

 

Second Carrier

 

    Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that

    is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this

    house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.

 

First Carrier

 

    Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats

    rose; it was the death of him.

 

Second Carrier

 

    I think this be the most villanous house in all

    London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.

 

First Carrier

 

    Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king

    christen could be better bit than I have been since

    the first cock.

 

Second Carrier

 

    Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we

    leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds

    fleas like a loach.

 

First Carrier

 

    What, ostler! come away and be hanged!

 

Second Carrier

 

    I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger,

    to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.

 

First Carrier

 

    God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite

    starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou

    never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An

    'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate

    on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged!

    hast thou no faith in thee?

 

    Enter GADSHILL

 

GADSHILL

 

    Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?

 

First Carrier

 

    I think it be two o'clock.

 

GADSHILL

 

    I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding

    in the stable.

 

First Carrier

 

    Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.

 

GADSHILL

 

    I pray thee, lend me thine.

 

Second Carrier

 

    Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth

    he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first.

 

GADSHILL

 

    Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?

 

Second Carrier

 

    Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant

    thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the

    gentleman: they will along with company, for they

    have great charge.

 

    Exeunt carriers

 

GADSHILL

 

    What, ho! chamberlain!

 

Chamberlain

 

    [Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse.

 

GADSHILL

 

    That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the

    chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking

    of purses than giving direction doth from labouring;

    thou layest the plot how.

 

    Enter Chamberlain

 

Chamberlain

 

    Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that

    I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the

    wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with

    him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his

    company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one

    that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what.

    They are up already, and call for eggs and butter;

    they will away presently.

 

GADSHILL

 

    Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas'

    clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

 

Chamberlain

 

    No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the

    hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas

    as truly as a man of falsehood may.

 

GADSHILL

 

    What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang,

    I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old

    Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no

    starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou

    dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are

    content to do the profession some grace; that would,

    if matters should be looked into, for their own

    credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no

    foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers,

    none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms;

    but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and

    great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will

    strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than

    drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds,

    I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the

    commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey

    on her, for they ride up and down on her and make

    her their boots.

 

Chamberlain

 

    What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold

    out water in foul way?

 

GADSHILL

 

    She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We

    steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt

    of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

 

Chamberlain

 

    Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to

    the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.

 

GADSHILL

 

    Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our

    purchase, as I am a true man.

 

Chamberlain

 

    Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.

 

GADSHILL

 

    Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the

    ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell,

    you muddy knave.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill.

 

    Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS

 

POINS

 

    Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's

    horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Stand close.

 

    Enter FALSTAFF

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost

    thou keep!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Where's Poins, Hal?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the

    rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know

    not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier

    further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt

    not but to die a fair death for all this, if I

    'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have

    forsworn his company hourly any time this two and

    twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the

    rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me

    medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it

    could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins!

    Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto!

    I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere

    not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to

    leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that

    ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven

    ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me;

    and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough:

    a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!

 

    They whistle

    Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you

    rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close

    to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread

    of travellers.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?

    'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot

    again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer.

    What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,

    good king's son.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent

    garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I

    have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy

    tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest

    is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

 

    Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO

 

GADSHILL

 

    Stand.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    So I do, against my will.

 

POINS

 

    O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph,

    what news?

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's

    money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going

    to the king's exchequer.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern.

 

GADSHILL

 

    There's enough to make us all.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    To be hanged.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane;

    Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape

    from your encounter, then they light on us.

 

PETO

 

    How many be there of them?

 

GADSHILL

 

    Some eight or ten.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Zounds, will they not rob us?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather;

    but yet no coward, Hal.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, we leave that to the proof.

 

POINS

 

    Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge:

    when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him.

    Farewell, and stand fast.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Ned, where are our disguises?

 

POINS

 

    Here, hard by: stand close.

 

    Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I:

    every man to his business.

 

    Enter the Travellers

 

First Traveller

 

    Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down

    the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.

 

Thieves

 

    Stand!

 

Travellers

 

    Jesus bless us!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats:

    ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they

    hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.

 

Travellers

 

    O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye

    fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On,

    bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live.

    You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith.

 

    Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt

 

    Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou

    and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it

    would be argument for a week, laughter for a month

    and a good jest for ever.

 

POINS

 

    Stand close; I hear them coming.

 

    Enter the Thieves again

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse

    before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two

    arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's

    no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Your money!

 

POINS

 

    Villains!

 

    As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:

    The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear

    So strongly that they dare not meet each other;

    Each takes his fellow for an officer.

    Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,

    And lards the lean earth as he walks along:

    Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.

 

POINS

 

    How the rogue roar'd!

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. Warkworth castle

 

    Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter

 

HOTSPUR

 

    'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well

    contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear

    your house.' He could be contented: why is he not,

    then? In respect of the love he bears our house:

    he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than

    he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The

    purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's

    certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to

    drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this

    nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The

    purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you

    have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and

    your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so

    great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say

    unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and

    you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord,

    our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our

    friends true and constant: a good plot, good

    friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot,

    very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is

    this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the

    general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by

    this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan.

    Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord

    Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower?

    is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all

    their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the

    next month? and are they not some of them set

    forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an

    infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity

    of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay

    open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself

    and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of

    skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him!

    let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set

    forward to-night.

 

    Enter LADY PERCY

    How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?

    For what offence have I this fortnight been

    A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?

    Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee

    Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep?

    Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,

    And start so often when thou sit'st alone?

    Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;

    And given my treasures and my rights of thee

    To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?

    In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,

    And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;

    Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;

    Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd

    Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,

    Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,

    Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,

    Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain,

    And all the currents of a heady fight.

    Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war

    And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,

    That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow

    Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;

    And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,

    Such as we see when men restrain their breath

    On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?

    Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,

    And I must know it, else he loves me not.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    What, ho!

 

    Enter Servant

    Is Gilliams with the packet gone?

 

Servant

 

    He is, my lord, an hour ago.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?

 

Servant

 

    One horse, my lord, he brought even now.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?

 

Servant

 

    It is, my lord.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    That roan shall by my throne.

    Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!

    Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

 

    Exit Servant

 

LADY PERCY

 

    But hear you, my lord.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    What say'st thou, my lady?

 

LADY PERCY

 

    What is it carries you away?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why, my horse, my love, my horse.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Out, you mad-headed ape!

    A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen

    As you are toss'd with. In faith,

    I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.

    I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir

    About his title, and hath sent for you

    To line his enterprise: but if you go,--

 

HOTSPUR

 

    So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Come, come, you paraquito, answer me

    Directly unto this question that I ask:

    In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,

    An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Away,

    Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not,

    I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world

    To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:

    We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,

    And pass them current too. God's me, my horse!

    What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou

    have with me?

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?

    Well, do not then; for since you love me not,

    I will not love myself. Do you not love me?

    Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Come, wilt thou see me ride?

    And when I am on horseback, I will swear

    I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;

    I must not have you henceforth question me

    Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:

    Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,

    This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.

    I know you wise, but yet no farther wise

    Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are,

    But yet a woman: and for secrecy,

    No lady closer; for I well believe

    Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;

    And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    How! so far?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:

    Whither I go, thither shall you go too;

    To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.

    Will this content you, Kate?

 

LADY PERCY

 

    It must of force.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.

 

    Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me

    thy hand to laugh a little.

 

POINS

 

    Where hast been, Hal?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four

    score hogsheads. I have sounded the very

    base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother

    to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by

    their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.

    They take it already upon their salvation, that

    though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king

    of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack,

    like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a

    good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I

    am king of England, I shall command all the good

    lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing

    scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they

    cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I

    am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour,

    that I can drink with any tinker in his own language

    during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost

    much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet

    action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of

    Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped

    even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that

    never spake other English in his life than 'Eight

    shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with

    this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint

    of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to

    drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee,

    do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my

    puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do

    thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale

    to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and

    I'll show thee a precedent.

 

POINS

 

    Francis!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou art perfect.

 

POINS

 

    Francis!

 

    Exit POINS

 

    Enter FRANCIS

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Come hither, Francis.

 

FRANCIS

 

    My lord?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How long hast thou to serve, Francis?

 

FRANCIS

 

    Forsooth, five years, and as much as to--

 

POINS

 

    [Within] Francis!

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, anon, sir.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking

    of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant

    as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it

    a fair pair of heels and run from it?

 

FRANCIS

 

    O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in

    England, I could find in my heart.

 

POINS

 

    [Within] Francis!

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, sir.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How old art thou, Francis?

 

FRANCIS

 

    Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be--

 

POINS

 

    [Within] Francis!

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou

    gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not?

 

FRANCIS

 

    O Lord, I would it had been two!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me

    when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

 

POINS

 

    [Within] Francis!

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, anon.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis;

    or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when

    thou wilt. But, Francis!

 

FRANCIS

 

    My lord?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button,

    not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,

    smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,--

 

FRANCIS

 

    O Lord, sir, who do you mean?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink;

    for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet

    will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.

 

FRANCIS

 

    What, sir?

 

POINS

 

    [Within] Francis!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call?

 

    Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go

 

    Enter Vintner

 

Vintner

 

    What, standest thou still, and hearest such a

    calling? Look to the guests within.

 

    Exit Francis

    My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are

    at the door: shall I let them in?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.

 

    Exit Vintner

    Poins!

 

    Re-enter POINS

 

POINS

 

    Anon, anon, sir.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at

    the door: shall we be merry?

 

POINS

 

    As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what

    cunning match have you made with this jest of the

    drawer? come, what's the issue?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I am now of all humours that have showed themselves

    humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the

    pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.

 

    Re-enter FRANCIS

    What's o'clock, Francis?

 

FRANCIS

 

    Anon, anon, sir.

 

    Exit

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a

    parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is

    upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of

    a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the

    Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or

    seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his

    hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet

    life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she,

    'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan

    horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some

    fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I

    prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and

    that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his

    wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow.

 

    Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine

 

POINS

 

    Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too!

    marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I

    lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend

    them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!

    Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant?

 

    He drinks

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?

    pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale

    of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is

    nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man:

    yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime

    in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack;

    die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be

    not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a

    shotten herring. There live not three good men

    unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and

    grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say.

    I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any

    thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy

    kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy

    subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese,

    I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there?

 

POINS

 

    'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the

    Lord, I'll stab thee.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call

    thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I

    could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight

    enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your

    back: call you that backing of your friends? A

    plague upon such backing! give me them that will

    face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I

    drunk to-day.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou

    drunkest last.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    All's one for that.

 

    He drinks

    A plague of all cowards, still say I.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What's the matter?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What's the matter! there be four of us here have

    ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Where is it, Jack? where is it?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon

    poor four of us.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, a hundred, man?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a

    dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by

    miracle. I am eight times thrust through the

    doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut

    through and through; my sword hacked like a

    hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since

    I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all

    cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or

    less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Speak, sirs; how was it?

 

GADSHILL

 

    We four set upon some dozen--

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Sixteen at least, my lord.

 

GADSHILL

 

    And bound them.

 

PETO

 

    No, no, they were not bound.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I

    am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

 

GADSHILL

 

    As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us--

 

FALSTAFF

 

    And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, fought you with them all?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought

    not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if

    there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old

    Jack, then am I no two-legged creature.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Pray God you have not murdered some of them.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two

    of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues

    in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell

    thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou

    knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my

    point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me--

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, four? thou saidst but two even now.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Four, Hal; I told thee four.

 

POINS

 

    Ay, ay, he said four.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at

    me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven

    points in my target, thus.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Seven? why, there were but four even now.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    In buckram?

 

POINS

 

    Ay, four, in buckram suits.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Dost thou hear me, Hal?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine

    in buckram that I told thee of--

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    So, two more already.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Their points being broken,--

 

POINS

 

    Down fell their hose.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Began to give me ground: but I followed me close,

    came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of

    the eleven I paid.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten

    knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive

    at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst

    not see thy hand.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    These lies are like their father that begets them;

    gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou

    clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou

    whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,--

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth

    the truth?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal

    green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy

    hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this?

 

POINS

 

    Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the

    strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would

    not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on

    compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as

    blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon

    compulsion, I.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine

    coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker,

    this huge hill of flesh,--

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried

    neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O

    for breath to utter what is like thee! you

    tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile

    standing-tuck,--

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and

    when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons,

    hear me speak but this.

 

POINS

 

    Mark, Jack.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and

    were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain

    tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you

    four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your

    prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in

    the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts

    away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared

    for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard

    bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword

    as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight!

    What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst

    thou now find out to hide thee from this open and

    apparent shame?

 

POINS

 

    Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye.

    Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the

    heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince?

    why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but

    beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true

    prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a

    coward on instinct. I shall think the better of

    myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant

    lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord,

    lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap

    to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow.

    Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles

    of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be

    merry? shall we have a play extempore?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!

 

    Enter Hostess

 

Hostess

 

    O Jesu, my lord the prince!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to

    me?

 

Hostess

 

    Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at

    door would speak with you: he says he comes from

    your father.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and

    send him back again to my mother.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What manner of man is he?

 

Hostess

 

    An old man.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall

    I give him his answer?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Prithee, do, Jack.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Faith, and I'll send him packing.

 

    Exit FALSTAFF

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you,

    Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you

    ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true

    prince; no, fie!

 

BARDOLPH

 

    'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's

    sword so hacked?

 

PETO

 

    Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would

    swear truth out of England but he would make you

    believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to

    make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments

    with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I

    did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed

    to hear his monstrous devices.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years

    ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since

    thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and

    sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what

    instinct hadst thou for it?

 

BARDOLPH

 

    My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold

    these exhalations?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I do.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    What think you they portend?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Hot livers and cold purses.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    No, if rightly taken, halter.

 

    Re-enter FALSTAFF

    Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone.

    How now, my sweet creature of bombast!

    How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was

    not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have

    crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of

    sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a

    bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was

    Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the

    court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the

    north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the

    bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the

    devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh

    hook--what a plague call you him?

 

POINS

 

    O, Glendower.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer,

    and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of

    Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill

    perpendicular,--

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    He that rides at high speed and with his pistol

    kills a sparrow flying.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    You have hit it.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    So did he never the sparrow.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so

    for running!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Yes, Jack, upon instinct.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too,

    and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more:

    Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's

    beard is turned white with the news: you may buy

    land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and

    this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads

    as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we

    shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,

    art not thou horrible afeard? thou being

    heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three

    such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that

    spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou

    not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at

    it?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou

    comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the

    particulars of my life.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state,

    this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden

    sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich

    crown for a pitiful bald crown!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee,

    now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to

    make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have

    wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it

    in King Cambyses' vein.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, here is my leg.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.

 

Hostess

 

    O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain.

 

Hostess

 

    O, the father, how he holds his countenance!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;

    For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.

 

Hostess

 

    O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry

    players as ever I see!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.

    Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy

    time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though

    the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster

    it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the

    sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have

    partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion,

    but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a

    foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant

    me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point;

    why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall

    the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat

    blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall

    the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a

    question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry,

    which thou hast often heard of and it is known to

    many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch,

    as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth

    the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not

    speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in

    pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in

    woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I

    have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What manner of man, an it like your majesty?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a

    cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble

    carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or,

    by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I

    remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man

    should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry,

    I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be

    known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then,

    peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that

    Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell

    me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast

    thou been this month?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me,

    and I'll play my father.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so

    majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by

    the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Well, here I am set.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    And here I stand: judge, my masters.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Now, Harry, whence come you?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    My noble lord, from Eastcheap.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle

    ye for a young prince, i' faith.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look

    on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace:

    there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an

    old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why

    dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that

    bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel

    of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed

    cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with

    the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that

    grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in

    years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and

    drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a

    capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft?

    wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous,

    but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I would your grace would take me with you: whom

    means your grace?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    That villanous abominable misleader of youth,

    Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    My lord, the man I know.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I know thou dost.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    But to say I know more harm in him than in myself,

    were to say more than I know. That he is old, the

    more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but

    that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster,

    that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault,

    God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a

    sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if

    to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine

    are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto,

    banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack

    Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,

    valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant,

    being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him

    thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's

    company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I do, I will.

 

    A knocking heard

 

    Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH

 

    Re-enter BARDOLPH, running

 

BARDOLPH

 

    O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most

    monstrous watch is at the door.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to

    say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

 

    Re-enter the Hostess

 

Hostess

 

    O Jesu, my lord, my lord!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick:

    what's the matter?

 

Hostess

 

    The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they

    are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of

    gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad,

    without seeming so.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    And thou a natural coward, without instinct.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff,

    so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart

    as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up!

    I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up

    above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good

    conscience.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Both which I have had: but their date is out, and

    therefore I'll hide me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Call in the sheriff.

 

    Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO

 

    Enter Sheriff and the Carrier

    Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me?

 

Sheriff

 

    First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry

    Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What men?

 

Sheriff

 

    One of them is well known, my gracious lord,

    A gross fat man.

 

Carrier

 

    As fat as butter.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    The man, I do assure you, is not here;

    For I myself at this time have employ'd him.

    And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee

    That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,

    Send him to answer thee, or any man,

    For any thing he shall be charged withal:

    And so let me entreat you leave the house.

 

Sheriff

 

    I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen

    Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    It may be so: if he have robb'd these men,

    He shall be answerable; and so farewell.

 

Sheriff

 

    Good night, my noble lord.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I think it is good morrow, is it not?

 

Sheriff

 

    Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.

 

    Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go,

    call him forth.

 

PETO

 

    Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and

    snorting like a horse.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.

 

    He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers

    What hast thou found?

 

PETO

 

    Nothing but papers, my lord.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Let's see what they be: read them.

 

PETO

 

    [Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d.

    Item, Sauce,. . . 4d.

    Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.

    Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.

    Item, Bread, ob.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to

    this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else,

    keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there

    let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the

    morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place

    shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a

    charge of foot; and I know his death will be a

    march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid

    back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in

    the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto.

 

    Exeunt

 

PETO

 

    Good morrow, good my lord.

 


ACT III

SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.

 

    Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER

 

MORTIMER

 

    These promises are fair, the parties sure,

    And our induction full of prosperous hope.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,

    Will you sit down?

    And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!

    I have forgot the map.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    No, here it is.

    Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,

    For by that name as oft as Lancaster

    Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with

    A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    I cannot blame him: at my nativity

    The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

    Of burning cressets; and at my birth

    The frame and huge foundation of the earth

    Shaked like a coward.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why, so it would have done at the same season, if

    your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself

    had never been born.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    I say the earth did shake when I was born.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    And I say the earth was not of my mind,

    If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,

    And not in fear of your nativity.

    Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth

    In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth

    Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd

    By the imprisoning of unruly wind

    Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,

    Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down

    Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth

    Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,

    In passion shook.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Cousin, of many men

    I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave

    To tell you once again that at my birth

    The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

    The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds

    Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.

    These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;

    And all the courses of my life do show

    I am not in the roll of common men.

    Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea

    That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,

    Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?

    And bring him out that is but woman's son

    Can trace me in the tedious ways of art

    And hold me pace in deep experiments.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.

    I'll to dinner.

 

MORTIMER

 

    Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why, so can I, or so can any man;

    But will they come when you do call for them?

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command

    The devil.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil

    By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil.

    If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,

    And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.

    O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!

 

MORTIMER

 

    Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head

    Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye

    And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him

    Bootless home and weather-beaten back.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

    How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right

    According to our threefold order ta'en?

 

MORTIMER

 

    The archdeacon hath divided it

    Into three limits very equally:

    England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,

    By south and east is to my part assign'd:

    All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,

    And all the fertile land within that bound,

    To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you

    The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.

    And our indentures tripartite are drawn;

    Which being sealed interchangeably,

    A business that this night may execute,

    To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I

    And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth

    To meet your father and the Scottish power,

    As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

    My father Glendower is not ready yet,

    Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.

    Within that space you may have drawn together

    Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    A shorter time shall send me to you, lords:

    And in my conduct shall your ladies come;

    From whom you now must steal and take no leave,

    For there will be a world of water shed

    Upon the parting of your wives and you.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,

    In quantity equals not one of yours:

    See how this river comes me cranking in,

    And cuts me from the best of all my land

    A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.

    I'll have the current in this place damm'd up;

    And here the smug and silver Trent shall run

    In a new channel, fair and evenly;

    It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

    To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.

 

MORTIMER

 

    Yea, but

    Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up

    With like advantage on the other side;

    Gelding the opposed continent as much

    As on the other side it takes from you.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Yea, but a little charge will trench him here

    And on this north side win this cape of land;

    And then he runs straight and even.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    I'll not have it alter'd.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Will not you?

 

GLENDOWER

 

    No, nor you shall not.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Who shall say me nay?

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Why, that will I.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    I can speak English, lord, as well as you;

    For I was train'd up in the English court;

    Where, being but young, I framed to the harp

    Many an English ditty lovely well

    And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,

    A virtue that was never seen in you.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Marry,

    And I am glad of it with all my heart:

    I had rather be a kitten and cry mew

    Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;

    I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,

    Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;

    And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

    Nothing so much as mincing poetry:

    'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land

    To any well-deserving friend;

    But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

    I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

    Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

 

GLENDOWER

 

    The moon shines fair; you may away by night:

    I'll haste the writer and withal

    Break with your wives of your departure hence:

    I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

    So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

 

    Exit GLENDOWER

 

MORTIMER

 

    Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I cannot choose: sometime he angers me

    With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant,

    Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

    And of a dragon and a finless fish,

    A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,

    A couching lion and a ramping cat,

    And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff

    As puts me from my faith. I tell you what;

    He held me last night at least nine hours

    In reckoning up the several devils' names

    That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,'

    But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious

    As a tired horse, a railing wife;

    Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live

    With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,

    Than feed on cates and have him talk to me

    In any summer-house in Christendom.

 

MORTIMER

 

    In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,

    Exceedingly well read, and profited

    In strange concealments, valiant as a lion

    And as wondrous affable and as bountiful

    As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?

    He holds your temper in a high respect

    And curbs himself even of his natural scope

    When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does:

    I warrant you, that man is not alive

    Might so have tempted him as you have done,

    Without the taste of danger and reproof:

    But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame;

    And since your coming hither have done enough

    To put him quite beside his patience.

    You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:

    Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,--

    And that's the dearest grace it renders you,--

    Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,

    Defect of manners, want of government,

    Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain:

    The least of which haunting a nobleman

    Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain

    Upon the beauty of all parts besides,

    Beguiling them of commendation.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!

    Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

 

    Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies

 

MORTIMER

 

    This is the deadly spite that angers me;

    My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;

    She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.

 

MORTIMER

 

    Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy

    Shall follow in your conduct speedily.

 

    Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same

 

GLENDOWER

 

    She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,

    one that no persuasion can do good upon.

 

    The lady speaks in Welsh

 

MORTIMER

 

    I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh

    Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens

    I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,

    In such a parley should I answer thee.

 

    The lady speaks again in Welsh

    I understand thy kisses and thou mine,

    And that's a feeling disputation:

    But I will never be a truant, love,

    Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue

    Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,

    Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,

    With ravishing division, to her lute.

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.

 

    The lady speaks again in Welsh

 

MORTIMER

 

    O, I am ignorance itself in this!

 

GLENDOWER

 

    She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down

    And rest your gentle head upon her lap,

    And she will sing the song that pleaseth you

    And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep.

    Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,

    Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep

    As is the difference betwixt day and night

    The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team

    Begins his golden progress in the east.

 

MORTIMER

 

    With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:

    By that time will our book, I think, be drawn

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Do so;

    And those musicians that shall play to you

    Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,

    And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come,

    quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Go, ye giddy goose.

 

    The music plays

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;

    And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.

    By'r lady, he is a good musician.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Then should you be nothing but musical for you are

    altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief,

    and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Wouldst thou have thy head broken?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    No.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Then be still.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Neither;'tis a woman's fault.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Now God help thee!

 

HOTSPUR

 

    To the Welsh lady's bed.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    What's that?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Peace! she sings.

 

    Here the lady sings a Welsh song

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    Not mine, in good sooth.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a

    comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and

    'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and

    'as sure as day,'

    And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,

    As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.

    Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,

    A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'

    And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,

    To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.

    Come, sing.

 

LADY PERCY

 

    I will not sing.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast

    teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away

    within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.

 

    Exit

 

GLENDOWER

 

    Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow

    As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.

    By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,

    And then to horse immediately.

 

MORTIMER

 

    With all my heart.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. London. The palace.

 

    Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I

    Must have some private conference; but be near at hand,

    For we shall presently have need of you.

 

    Exeunt Lords

    I know not whether God will have it so,

    For some displeasing service I have done,

    That, in his secret doom, out of my blood

    He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;

    But thou dost in thy passages of life

    Make me believe that thou art only mark'd

    For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven

    To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,

    Could such inordinate and low desires,

    Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,

    Such barren pleasures, rude society,

    As thou art match'd withal and grafted to,

    Accompany the greatness of thy blood

    And hold their level with thy princely heart?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    So please your majesty, I would I could

    Quit all offences with as clear excuse

    As well as I am doubtless I can purge

    Myself of many I am charged withal:

    Yet such extenuation let me beg,

    As, in reproof of many tales devised,

    which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,

    By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers,

    I may, for some things true, wherein my youth

    Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,

    Find pardon on my true submission.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry,

    At thy affections, which do hold a wing

    Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.

    Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost.

    Which by thy younger brother is supplied,

    And art almost an alien to the hearts

    Of all the court and princes of my blood:

    The hope and expectation of thy time

    Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man

    Prophetically doth forethink thy fall.

    Had I so lavish of my presence been,

    So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,

    So stale and cheap to vulgar company,

    Opinion, that did help me to the crown,

    Had still kept loyal to possession

    And left me in reputeless banishment,

    A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.

    By being seldom seen, I could not stir

    But like a comet I was wonder'd at;

    That men would tell their children 'This is he;'

    Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?'

    And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,

    And dress'd myself in such humility

    That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,

    Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,

    Even in the presence of the crowned king.

    Thus did I keep my person fresh and new;

    My presence, like a robe pontifical,

    Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state,

    Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast

    And won by rareness such solemnity.

    The skipping king, he ambled up and down

    With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,

    Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,

    Mingled his royalty with capering fools,

    Had his great name profaned with their scorns

    And gave his countenance, against his name,

    To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push

    Of every beardless vain comparative,

    Grew a companion to the common streets,

    Enfeoff'd himself to popularity;

    That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,

    They surfeited with honey and began

    To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little

    More than a little is by much too much.

    So when he had occasion to be seen,

    He was but as the cuckoo is in June,

    Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes

    As, sick and blunted with community,

    Afford no extraordinary gaze,

    Such as is bent on sun-like majesty

    When it shines seldom in admiring eyes;

    But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down,

    Slept in his face and render'd such aspect

    As cloudy men use to their adversaries,

    Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full.

    And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;

    For thou has lost thy princely privilege

    With vile participation: not an eye

    But is a-weary of thy common sight,

    Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more;

    Which now doth that I would not have it do,

    Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,

    Be more myself.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    For all the world

    As thou art to this hour was Richard then

    When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,

    And even as I was then is Percy now.

    Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot,

    He hath more worthy interest to the state

    Than thou the shadow of succession;

    For of no right, nor colour like to right,

    He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,

    Turns head against the lion's armed jaws,

    And, being no more in debt to years than thou,

    Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on

    To bloody battles and to bruising arms.

    What never-dying honour hath he got

    Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds,

    Whose hot incursions and great name in arms

    Holds from all soldiers chief majority

    And military title capital

    Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ:

    Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,

    This infant warrior, in his enterprises

    Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once,

    Enlarged him and made a friend of him,

    To fill the mouth of deep defiance up

    And shake the peace and safety of our throne.

    And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,

    The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,

    Capitulate against us and are up.

    But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?

    Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,

    Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?

    Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,

    Base inclination and the start of spleen

    To fight against me under Percy's pay,

    To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,

    To show how much thou art degenerate.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Do not think so; you shall not find it so:

    And God forgive them that so much have sway'd

    Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!

    I will redeem all this on Percy's head

    And in the closing of some glorious day

    Be bold to tell you that I am your son;

    When I will wear a garment all of blood

    And stain my favours in a bloody mask,

    Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it:

    And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,

    That this same child of honour and renown,

    This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,

    And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.

    For every honour sitting on his helm,

    Would they were multitudes, and on my head

    My shames redoubled! for the time will come,

    That I shall make this northern youth exchange

    His glorious deeds for my indignities.

    Percy is but my factor, good my lord,

    To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;

    And I will call him to so strict account,

    That he shall render every glory up,

    Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,

    Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.

    This, in the name of God, I promise here:

    The which if He be pleased I shall perform,

    I do beseech your majesty may salve

    The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:

    If not, the end of life cancels all bands;

    And I will die a hundred thousand deaths

    Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    A hundred thousand rebels die in this:

    Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.

 

    Enter BLUNT

    How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    So hath the business that I come to speak of.

    Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word

    That Douglas and the English rebels met

    The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury

    A mighty and a fearful head they are,

    If promises be kept on every hand,

    As ever offer'd foul play in the state.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day;

    With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster;

    For this advertisement is five days old:

    On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward;

    On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting

    Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march

    Through Gloucestershire; by which account,

    Our business valued, some twelve days hence

    Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.

    Our hands are full of business: let's away;

    Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III.

 

    Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.

 

    Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last

    action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my

    skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose

    gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well,

    I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some

    liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I

    shall have no strength to repent. An I have not

    forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I

    am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a

    church! Company, villanous company, hath been the

    spoil of me.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make

    me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman

    need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not

    above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once

    in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I

    borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in

    good compass: and now I live out of all order, out

    of all compass.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs

    be out of all compass, out of all reasonable

    compass, Sir John.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life:

    thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in

    the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the

    Knight of the Burning Lamp.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many

    a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I

    never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and

    Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his

    robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way

    given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath

    should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but

    thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but

    for the light in thy face, the son of utter

    darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the

    night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou

    hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire,

    there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a

    perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light!

    Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and

    torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt

    tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast

    drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap

    at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have

    maintained that salamander of yours with fire any

    time this two and thirty years; God reward me for

    it!

 

BARDOLPH

 

    'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned.

 

    Enter Hostess

    How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired

    yet who picked my pocket?

 

Hostess

 

    Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you

    think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched,

    I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy

    by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair

    was never lost in my house before.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many

    a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go

    to, you are a woman, go.

 

Hostess

 

    Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was never

    called so in mine own house before.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Go to, I know you well enough.

 

Hostess

 

    No, Sir John; You do not know me, Sir John. I know

    you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now

    you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought

    you a dozen of shirts to your back.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to

    bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.

 

Hostess

 

    Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight

    shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir

    John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent

    you, four and twenty pound.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    He had his part of it; let him pay.

 

Hostess

 

    He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich?

    let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks:

    Ill not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker

    of me? shall I not take mine case in mine inn but I

    shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a

    seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.

 

Hostess

 

    O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not

    how oft, that ring was copper!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup: 'sblood, an

    he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he

    would say so.

 

    Enter PRINCE HENRY and PETO, marching, and FALSTAFF meets them playing on his truncheon like a life

    How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith?

    must we all march?

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

 

Hostess

 

    My lord, I pray you, hear me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy

    husband? I love him well; he is an honest man.

 

Hostess

 

    Good my lord, hear me.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What sayest thou, Jack?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras

    and had my pocket picked: this house is turned

    bawdy-house; they pick pockets.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What didst thou lose, Jack?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of

    forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my

    grandfather's.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

 

Hostess

 

    So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your

    grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely

    of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and said

    he would cudgel you.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What! he did not?

 

Hostess

 

    There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed

    prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn

    fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the

    deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing,

    go

 

Hostess

 

    Say, what thing? what thing?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What thing! why, a thing to thank God on.

 

Hostess

 

    I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou

    shouldst know it; I am an honest man's wife: and,

    setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to

    call me so.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say

    otherwise.

 

Hostess

 

    Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What beast! why, an otter.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    An otter, Sir John! Why an otter?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not

    where to have her.

 

Hostess

 

    Thou art an unjust man in saying so: thou or any

    man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.

 

Hostess

 

    So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you

    ought him a thousand pound.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    A thousand pound, Ha! a million: thy love is worth

    a million: thou owest me thy love.

 

Hostess

 

    Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would

    cudgel you.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Did I, Bardolph?

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare:

    but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the

    roaring of a lion's whelp.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    And why not as the lion?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    The king is to be feared as the lion: dost thou

    think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an

    I do, I pray God my girdle break.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy

    knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith,

    truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all

    filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest

    woman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whoreson,

    impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything in

    thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of

    bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of

    sugar-candy to make thee long-winded, if thy pocket

    were enriched with any other injuries but these, I

    am a villain: and yet you will stand to if; you will

    not pocket up wrong: art thou not ashamed?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of

    innocency Adam fell; and what should poor Jack

    Falstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest I

    have more flesh than another man, and therefore more

    frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    It appears so by the story.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Hostess, I forgive thee: go, make ready breakfast;

    love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy

    guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest

    reason: thou seest I am pacified still. Nay,

    prithee, be gone.

 

    Exit Hostess

    Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery,

    lad, how is that answered?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to

    thee: the money is paid back again.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I am good friends with my father and may do any thing.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and

    do it with unwashed hands too.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Do, my lord.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find

    one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the

    age of two and twenty or thereabouts! I am

    heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for

    these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous: I

    laud them, I praise them.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Bardolph!

 

BARDOLPH

 

    My lord?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my

    brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.

 

    Exit Bardolph

    Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have

    thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

 

    Exit Peto

    Jack, meet me to-morrow in the temple hall at two

    o'clock in the afternoon.

    There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive

    Money and order for their furniture.

    The land is burning; Percy stands on high;

    And either we or they must lower lie.

 

    Exit PRINCE HENRY

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!

    O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!

 

    Exit

 


ACT IV

SCENE I. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

 

    Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth

    In this fine age were not thought flattery,

    Such attribution should the Douglas have,

    As not a soldier of this season's stamp

    Should go so general current through the world.

    By God, I cannot flatter; I do defy

    The tongues of soothers; but a braver place

    In my heart's love hath no man than yourself:

    Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Thou art the king of honour:

    No man so potent breathes upon the ground

    But I will beard him.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Do so, and 'tis well.

 

    Enter a Messenger with letters

    What letters hast thou there?--I can but thank you.

 

Messenger

 

    These letters come from your father.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Letters from him! why comes he not himself?

 

Messenger

 

    He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick

    In such a rustling time? Who leads his power?

    Under whose government come they along?

 

Messenger

 

    His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?

 

Messenger

 

    He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

    And at the time of my departure thence

    He was much fear'd by his physicians.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    I would the state of time had first been whole

    Ere he by sickness had been visited:

    His health was never better worth than now.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect

    The very life-blood of our enterprise;

    'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

    He writes me here, that inward sickness--

    And that his friends by deputation could not

    So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet

    To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

    On any soul removed but on his own.

    Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,

    That with our small conjunction we should on,

    To see how fortune is disposed to us;

    For, as he writes, there is no quailing now.

    Because the king is certainly possess'd

    Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Your father's sickness is a maim to us.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:

    And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want

    Seems more than we shall find it: were it good

    To set the exact wealth of all our states

    All at one cast? to set so rich a main

    On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

    It were not good; for therein should we read

    The very bottom and the soul of hope,

    The very list, the very utmost bound

    Of all our fortunes.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    'Faith, and so we should;

    Where now remains a sweet reversion:

    We may boldly spend upon the hope of what

    Is to come in:

    A comfort of retirement lives in this.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    A rendezvous, a home to fly unto.

    If that the devil and mischance look big

    Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    But yet I would your father had been here.

    The quality and hair of our attempt

    Brooks no division: it will be thought

    By some, that know not why he is away,

    That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike

    Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence:

    And think how such an apprehension

    May turn the tide of fearful faction

    And breed a kind of question in our cause;

    For well you know we of the offering side

    Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,

    And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

    The eye of reason may pry in upon us:

    This absence of your father's draws a curtain,

    That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

    Before not dreamt of.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    You strain too far.

    I rather of his absence make this use:

    It lends a lustre and more great opinion,

    A larger dare to our great enterprise,

    Than if the earl were here; for men must think,

    If we without his help can make a head

    To push against a kingdom, with his help

    We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.

    Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    As heart can think: there is not such a word

    Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

 

    Enter SIR RICHARD VERNON

 

HOTSPUR

 

    My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.

 

VERNON

 

    Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.

    The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,

    Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    No harm: what more?

 

VERNON

 

    And further, I have learn'd,

    The king himself in person is set forth,

    Or hitherwards intended speedily,

    With strong and mighty preparation.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

    The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

    And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside,

    And bid it pass?

 

VERNON

 

    All furnish'd, all in arms;

    All plumed like estridges that with the wind

    Baited like eagles having lately bathed;

    Glittering in golden coats, like images;

    As full of spirit as the month of May,

    And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;

    Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

    I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,

    His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd

    Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,

    And vaulted with such ease into his seat,

    As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,

    To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus

    And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    No more, no more: worse than the sun in March,

    This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come:

    They come like sacrifices in their trim,

    And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war

    All hot and bleeding will we offer them:

    The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit

    Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

    To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh

    And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,

    Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

    Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:

    Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

    Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.

    O that Glendower were come!

 

VERNON

 

    There is more news:

    I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,

    He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

 

WORCESTER

 

    Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    What may the king's whole battle reach unto?

 

VERNON

 

    To thirty thousand.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Forty let it be:

    My father and Glendower being both away,

    The powers of us may serve so great a day

    Come, let us take a muster speedily:

    Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Talk not of dying: I am out of fear

    Of death or death's hand for this one-half year.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. A public road near Coventry.

 

    Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a

    bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march through;

    we'll to Sutton Co'fil' tonight.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Will you give me money, captain?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Lay out, lay out.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    This bottle makes an angel.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make

    twenty, take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid

    my lieutenant Peto meet me at town's end.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    I will, captain: farewell.

 

    Exit

 

FALSTAFF

 

    If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused

    gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably.

    I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty

    soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me

    none but good house-holders, yeoman's sons; inquire

    me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked

    twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves,

    as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum; such as

    fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck

    fowl or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such

    toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no

    bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out

    their services; and now my whole charge consists of

    ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of

    companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the

    painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his

    sores; and such as indeed were never soldiers, but

    discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to

    younger brothers, revolted tapsters and ostlers

    trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a

    long peace, ten times more dishonourable ragged than

    an old faced ancient: and such have I, to fill up

    the rooms of them that have bought out their

    services, that you would think that I had a hundred

    and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from

    swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad

    fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded

    all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye

    hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through

    Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the

    villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had

    gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of

    prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my

    company; and the half shirt is two napkins tacked

    together and thrown over the shoulders like an

    herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say

    the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or

    the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But that's all

    one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

 

    Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt!

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou

    in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I

    cry you mercy: I thought your honour had already been

    at Shrewsbury.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Faith, Sir John,'tis more than time that I were

    there, and you too; but my powers are there already.

    The king, I can tell you, looks for us all: we must

    away all night.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to

    steal cream.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath

    already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose

    fellows are these that come after?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Mine, Hal, mine.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I did never see such pitiful rascals.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food

    for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better:

    tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor

    and bare, too beggarly.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had

    that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never

    learned that of me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    No I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on

    the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste: Percy is

    already in the field.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    What, is the king encamped?

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    He is, Sir John: I fear we shall stay too long.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well,

    To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast

    Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

 

    Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON

 

HOTSPUR

 

    We'll fight with him to-night.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    It may not be.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    You give him then the advantage.

 

VERNON

 

    Not a whit.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Why say you so? looks he not for supply?

 

VERNON

 

    So do we.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    His is certain, ours is doubtful.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Good cousin, be advised; stir not tonight.

 

VERNON

 

    Do not, my lord.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    You do not counsel well:

    You speak it out of fear and cold heart.

 

VERNON

 

    Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,

    And I dare well maintain it with my life,

    If well-respected honour bid me on,

    I hold as little counsel with weak fear

    As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives:

    Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle

    Which of us fears.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Yea, or to-night.

 

VERNON

 

    Content.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    To-night, say I.

 

VERNON

 

    Come, come it nay not be. I wonder much,

    Being men of such great leading as you are,

    That you foresee not what impediments

    Drag back our expedition: certain horse

    Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:

    Your uncle Worcester's horse came but today;

    And now their pride and mettle is asleep,

    Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,

    That not a horse is half the half of himself.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    So are the horses of the enemy

    In general, journey-bated and brought low:

    The better part of ours are full of rest.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    The number of the king exceedeth ours:

    For God's sake. cousin, stay till all come in.

 

    The trumpet sounds a parley

 

    Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    I come with gracious offers from the king,

    if you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God

    You were of our determination!

    Some of us love you well; and even those some

    Envy your great deservings and good name,

    Because you are not of our quality,

    But stand against us like an enemy.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    And God defend but still I should stand so,

    So long as out of limit and true rule

    You stand against anointed majesty.

    But to my charge. The king hath sent to know

    The nature of your griefs, and whereupon

    You conjure from the breast of civil peace

    Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land

    Audacious cruelty. If that the king

    Have any way your good deserts forgot,

    Which he confesseth to be manifold,

    He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed

    You shall have your desires with interest

    And pardon absolute for yourself and these

    Herein misled by your suggestion.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    The king is kind; and well we know the king

    Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.

    My father and my uncle and myself

    Did give him that same royalty he wears;

    And when he was not six and twenty strong,

    Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,

    A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,

    My father gave him welcome to the shore;

    And when he heard him swear and vow to God

    He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,

    To sue his livery and beg his peace,

    With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,

    My father, in kind heart and pity moved,

    Swore him assistance and perform'd it too.

    Now when the lords and barons of the realm

    Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,

    The more and less came in with cap and knee;

    Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,

    Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,

    Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,

    Gave him their heirs, as pages follow'd him

    Even at the heels in golden multitudes.

    He presently, as greatness knows itself,

    Steps me a little higher than his vow

    Made to my father, while his blood was poor,

    Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;

    And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform

    Some certain edicts and some strait decrees

    That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,

    Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep

    Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,

    This seeming brow of justice, did he win

    The hearts of all that he did angle for;

    Proceeded further; cut me off the heads

    Of all the favourites that the absent king

    In deputation left behind him here,

    When he was personal in the Irish war.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    Tut, I came not to hear this.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Then to the point.

    In short time after, he deposed the king;

    Soon after that, deprived him of his life;

    And in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:

    To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March,

    Who is, if every owner were well placed,

    Indeed his king, to be engaged in Wales,

    There without ransom to lie forfeited;

    Disgraced me in my happy victories,

    Sought to entrap me by intelligence;

    Rated mine uncle from the council-board;

    In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;

    Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,

    And in conclusion drove us to seek out

    This head of safety; and withal to pry

    Into his title, the which we find

    Too indirect for long continuance.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    Shall I return this answer to the king?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Not so, Sir Walter: we'll withdraw awhile.

    Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd

    Some surety for a safe return again,

    And in the morning early shall my uncle

    Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    I would you would accept of grace and love.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    And may be so we shall.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    Pray God you do.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE IV. York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace.

 

    Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK and SIR MICHAEL

 

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

 

    Hie, good Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief

    With winged haste to the lord marshal;

    This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest

    To whom they are directed. If you knew

    How much they do to import, you would make haste.

 

SIR MICHAEL

 

    My good lord,

    I guess their tenor.

 

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

 

    Like enough you do.

    To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day

    Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men

    Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,

    As I am truly given to understand,

    The king with mighty and quick-raised power

    Meets with Lord Harry: and, I fear, Sir Michael,

    What with the sickness of Northumberland,

    Whose power was in the first proportion,

    And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,

    Who with them was a rated sinew too

    And comes not in, o'er-ruled by prophecies,

    I fear the power of Percy is too weak

    To wage an instant trial with the king.

 

SIR MICHAEL

 

    Why, my good lord, you need not fear;

    There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.

 

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

 

    No, Mortimer is not there.

 

SIR MICHAEL

 

    But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,

    And there is my Lord of Worcester and a head

    Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

 

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

 

    And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn

    The special head of all the land together:

    The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,

    The noble Westmoreland and warlike Blunt;

    And moe corrivals and dear men

    Of estimation and command in arms.

 

SIR MICHAEL

 

    Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.

 

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

 

    I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;

    And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed:

    For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the king

    Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,

    For he hath heard of our confederacy,

    And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him:

    Therefore make haste. I must go write again

    To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael.

 

    Exeunt

 


ACT V

SCENE I. KING HENRY IV's camp near Shrewsbury.

 

    Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, Lord John of LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and FALSTAFF

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    How bloodily the sun begins to peer

    Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale

    At his distemperature.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    The southern wind

    Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,

    And by his hollow whistling in the leaves

    Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Then with the losers let it sympathize,

    For nothing can seem foul to those that win.

 

    The trumpet sounds

 

    Enter WORCESTER and VERNON

    How now, my Lord of Worcester! 'tis not well

    That you and I should meet upon such terms

    As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,

    And made us doff our easy robes of peace,

    To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:

    This is not well, my lord, this is not well.

    What say you to it? will you again unknit

    This curlish knot of all-abhorred war?

    And move in that obedient orb again

    Where you did give a fair and natural light,

    And be no more an exhaled meteor,

    A prodigy of fear and a portent

    Of broached mischief to the unborn times?

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Hear me, my liege:

    For mine own part, I could be well content

    To entertain the lag-end of my life

    With quiet hours; for I do protest,

    I have not sought the day of this dislike.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    You have not sought it! how comes it, then?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Peace, chewet, peace!

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    It pleased your majesty to turn your looks

    Of favour from myself and all our house;

    And yet I must remember you, my lord,

    We were the first and dearest of your friends.

    For you my staff of office did I break

    In Richard's time; and posted day and night

    to meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,

    When yet you were in place and in account

    Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.

    It was myself, my brother and his son,

    That brought you home and boldly did outdare

    The dangers of the time. You swore to us,

    And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,

    That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;

    Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,

    The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:

    To this we swore our aid. But in short space

    It rain'd down fortune showering on your head;

    And such a flood of greatness fell on you,

    What with our help, what with the absent king,

    What with the injuries of a wanton time,

    The seeming sufferances that you had borne,

    And the contrarious winds that held the king

    So long in his unlucky Irish wars

    That all in England did repute him dead:

    And from this swarm of fair advantages

    You took occasion to be quickly woo'd

    To gripe the general sway into your hand;

    Forget your oath to us at Doncaster;

    And being fed by us you used us so

    As that ungentle hull, the cuckoo's bird,

    Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest;

    Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk

    That even our love durst not come near your sight

    For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing

    We were enforced, for safety sake, to fly

    Out of sight and raise this present head;

    Whereby we stand opposed by such means

    As you yourself have forged against yourself

    By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,

    And violation of all faith and troth

    Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    These things indeed you have articulate,

    Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches,

    To face the garment of rebellion

    With some fine colour that may please the eye

    Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,

    Which gape and rub the elbow at the news

    Of hurlyburly innovation:

    And never yet did insurrection want

    Such water-colours to impaint his cause;

    Nor moody beggars, starving for a time

    Of pellmell havoc and confusion.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    In both your armies there is many a soul

    Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,

    If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,

    The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world

    In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes,

    This present enterprise set off his head,

    I do not think a braver gentleman,

    More active-valiant or more valiant-young,

    More daring or more bold, is now alive

    To grace this latter age with noble deeds.

    For my part, I may speak it to my shame,

    I have a truant been to chivalry;

    And so I hear he doth account me too;

    Yet this before my father's majesty--

    I am content that he shall take the odds

    Of his great name and estimation,

    And will, to save the blood on either side,

    Try fortune with him in a single fight.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,

    Albeit considerations infinite

    Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no,

    We love our people well; even those we love

    That are misled upon your cousin's part;

    And, will they take the offer of our grace,

    Both he and they and you, every man

    Shall be my friend again and I'll be his:

    So tell your cousin, and bring me word

    What he will do: but if he will not yield,

    Rebuke and dread correction wait on us

    And they shall do their office. So, be gone;

    We will not now be troubled with reply:

    We offer fair; take it advisedly.

 

    Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    It will not be accepted, on my life:

    The Douglas and the Hotspur both together

    Are confident against the world in arms.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;

    For, on their answer, will we set on them:

    And God befriend us, as our cause is just!

 

    Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY and FALSTAFF

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride

    me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.

    Say thy prayers, and farewell.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, thou owest God a death.

 

    Exit PRINCE HENRY

 

FALSTAFF

 

    'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before

    his day. What need I be so forward with him that

    calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; honour pricks

    me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I

    come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or

    an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no.

    Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is

    honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what

    is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?

    he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no.

    Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then. Yea,

    to the dead. But will it not live with the living?

    no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore

    I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so

    ends my catechism.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE II. The rebel camp.

 

    Enter WORCESTER and VERNON

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,

    The liberal and kind offer of the king.

 

VERNON

 

    'Twere best he did.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    Then are we all undone.

    It is not possible, it cannot be,

    The king should keep his word in loving us;

    He will suspect us still and find a time

    To punish this offence in other faults:

    Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;

    For treason is but trusted like the fox,

    Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd and lock'd up,

    Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.

    Look how we can, or sad or merrily,

    Interpretation will misquote our looks,

    And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,

    The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.

    My nephew's trespass may be well forgot;

    it hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,

    And an adopted name of privilege,

    A hair-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen:

    All his offences live upon my head

    And on his father's; we did train him on,

    And, his corruption being ta'en from us,

    We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all.

    Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,

    In any case, the offer of the king.

 

VERNON

 

    Deliver what you will; I'll say 'tis so.

    Here comes your cousin.

 

    Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS

 

HOTSPUR

 

    My uncle is return'd:

    Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.

    Uncle, what news?

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    The king will bid you battle presently.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Marry, and shall, and very willingly.

 

    Exit

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    There is no seeming mercy in the king.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Did you beg any? God forbid!

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    I told him gently of our grievances,

    Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,

    By now forswearing that he is forsworn:

    He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge

    With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

 

    Re-enter the EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown

    A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,

    And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it;

    Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king,

    And, nephew, challenged you to single fight.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,

    And that no man might draw short breath today

    But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,

    How show'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt?

 

VERNON

 

    No, by my soul; I never in my life

    Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,

    Unless a brother should a brother dare

    To gentle exercise and proof of arms.

    He gave you all the duties of a man;

    Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue,

    Spoke to your deservings like a chronicle,

    Making you ever better than his praise

    By still dispraising praise valued in you;

    And, which became him like a prince indeed,

    He made a blushing cital of himself;

    And chid his truant youth with such a grace

    As if he master'd there a double spirit.

    Of teaching and of learning instantly.

    There did he pause: but let me tell the world,

    If he outlive the envy of this day,

    England did never owe so sweet a hope,

    So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Cousin, I think thou art enamoured

    On his follies: never did I hear

    Of any prince so wild a libertine.

    But be he as he will, yet once ere night

    I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,

    That he shall shrink under my courtesy.

    Arm, arm with speed: and, fellows, soldiers, friends,

    Better consider what you have to do

    Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,

    Can lift your blood up with persuasion.

 

    Enter a Messenger

 

Messenger

 

    My lord, here are letters for you.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I cannot read them now.

    O gentlemen, the time of life is short!

    To spend that shortness basely were too long,

    If life did ride upon a dial's point,

    Still ending at the arrival of an hour.

    An if we live, we live to tread on kings;

    If die, brave death, when princes die with us!

    Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair,

    When the intent of bearing them is just.

 

    Enter another Messenger

 

Messenger

 

    My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,

    For I profess not talking; only this--

    Let each man do his best: and here draw I

    A sword, whose temper I intend to stain

    With the best blood that I can meet withal

    In the adventure of this perilous day.

    Now, Esperance! Percy! and set on.

    Sound all the lofty instruments of war,

    And by that music let us all embrace;

    For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall

    A second time do such a courtesy.

 

    The trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt

 


SCENE III. Plain between the camps.

 

    KING HENRY enters with his power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    What is thy name, that in the battle thus

    Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek

    Upon my head?

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Know then, my name is Douglas;

    And I do haunt thee in the battle thus

    Because some tell me that thou art a king.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    They tell thee true.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought

    Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,

    This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,

    Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

 

SIR WALTER BLUNT

 

    I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;

    And thou shalt find a king that will revenge

    Lord Stafford's death.

 

    They fight. DOUGLAS kills SIR WALTER BLUNT. Enter HOTSPUR

 

HOTSPUR

 

    O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,

    never had triumph'd upon a Scot.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Where?

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Here.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    This, Douglas? no: I know this face full well:

    A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;

    Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!

    A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:

    Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?

 

HOTSPUR

 

    The king hath many marching in his coats.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;

    I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,

    Until I meet the king.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Up, and away!

    Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.

 

    Exeunt

 

    Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF, solus

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear

    the shot here; here's no scoring but upon the pate.

    Soft! who are you? Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour

    for you! here's no vanity! I am as hot as moulten

    lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I

    need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have

    led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: there's

    not three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and

    they are for the town's end, to beg during life.

    But who comes here?

 

    Enter PRINCE HENRY

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword:

    Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff

    Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,

    Whose deaths are yet unrevenged: I prithee,

    lend me thy sword.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    O Hal, I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile.

    Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have

    done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee,

    lend me thy sword.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st

    not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Give it to me: what, is it in the case?

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city.

 

    PRINCE HENRY draws it out, and finds it to be a bottle of sack

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    What, is it a time to jest and dally now?

 

    He throws the bottle at him. Exit

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do

    come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his

    willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like

    not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: give me

    life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes

    unlooked for, and there's an end.

 

    Exit FALSTAFF

 


SCENE IV. Another part of the field.

 

    Alarum. Excursions. Enter PRINCE HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, and EARL OF WESTMORELAND

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    I prithee,

    Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much.

    Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

 

LANCASTER

 

    Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I beseech your majesty, make up,

    Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    I will do so.

    My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:

    And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive

    The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,

    Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,

    and rebels' arms triumph in massacres!

 

LANCASTER

 

    We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,

    Our duty this way lies; for God's sake come.

 

    Exeunt LANCASTER and WESTMORELAND

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;

    I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:

    Before, I loved thee as a brother, John;

    But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point

    With lustier maintenance than I did look for

    Of such an ungrown warrior.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O, this boy

    Lends mettle to us all!

 

    Exit

 

    Enter DOUGLAS

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:

    I am the Douglas, fatal to all those

    That wear those colours on them: what art thou,

    That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart

    So many of his shadows thou hast met

    And not the very king. I have two boys

    Seek Percy and thyself about the field:

    But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,

    I will assay thee: so, defend thyself.

 

EARL OF DOUGLAS

 

    I fear thou art another counterfeit;

    And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:

    But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,

    And thus I win thee.

 

    They fight. KING HENRY being in danger, PRINCE HENRY enters

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like

    Never to hold it up again! the spirits

    Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:

    It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee;

    Who never promiseth but he means to pay.

 

    They fight: DOUGLAS flies

    Cheerly, my lord how fares your grace?

    Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent,

    And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Stay, and breathe awhile:

    Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,

    And show'd thou makest some tender of my life,

    In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    O God! they did me too much injury

    That ever said I hearken'd for your death.

    If it were so, I might have let alone

    The insulting hand of Douglas over you,

    Which would have been as speedy in your end

    As all the poisonous potions in the world

    And saved the treacherous labour of your son.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Make up to Clifton: I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.

 

    Exit

 

    Enter HOTSPUR

 

HOTSPUR

 

    If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    My name is Harry Percy.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, then I see

    A very valiant rebel of the name.

    I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,

    To share with me in glory any more:

    Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;

    Nor can one England brook a double reign,

    Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come

    To end the one of us; and would to God

    Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I'll make it greater ere I part from thee;

    And all the budding honours on thy crest

    I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.

 

HOTSPUR

 

    I can no longer brook thy vanities.

 

    They fight

 

    Enter FALSTAFF

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Well said, Hal! to it Hal! Nay, you shall find no

    boy's play here, I can tell you.

 

    Re-enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls

 

HOTSPUR

 

    O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!

    I better brook the loss of brittle life

    Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;

    They wound my thoughts worse than sword my flesh:

    But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;

    And time, that takes survey of all the world,

    Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,

    But that the earthy and cold hand of death

    Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust

    And food for--

 

    Dies

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    For worms, brave Percy: fare thee well, great heart!

    Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!

    When that this body did contain a spirit,

    A kingdom for it was too small a bound;

    But now two paces of the vilest earth

    Is room enough: this earth that bears thee dead

    Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.

    If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

    I should not make so dear a show of zeal:

    But let my favours hide thy mangled face;

    And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself

    For doing these fair rites of tenderness.

    Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!

    Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,

    But not remember'd in thy epitaph!

 

    He spieth FALSTAFF on the ground

    What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh

    Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!

    I could have better spared a better man:

    O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,

    If I were much in love with vanity!

    Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,

    Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.

    Embowell'd will I see thee by and by:

    Till then in blood by noble Percy lie.

 

    Exit PRINCE HENRY

 

FALSTAFF

 

    [Rising up] Embowelled! if thou embowel me to-day,

    I'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too

    to-morrow. 'Sblood,'twas time to counterfeit, or

    that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too.

    Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die,

    is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the

    counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man:

    but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby

    liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and

    perfect image of life indeed. The better part of

    valour is discretion; in the which better part I

    have saved my life.'Zounds, I am afraid of this

    gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how, if he

    should counterfeit too and rise? by my faith, I am

    afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.

    Therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll swear I

    killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I?

    Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.

    Therefore, sirrah,

 

    Stabbing him

    with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

 

    Takes up HOTSPUR on his back

 

    Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd

    Thy maiden sword.

 

LANCASTER

 

    But, soft! whom have we here?

    Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    I did; I saw him dead,

    Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art

    thou alive?

    Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?

    I prithee, speak; we will not trust our eyes

    Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem'st.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I

    be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy:

 

    Throwing the body down

    if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let

    him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either

    earl or duke, I can assure you.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Why, Percy I killed myself and saw thee dead.

 

FALSTAFF

 

    Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to

    lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath;

    and so was he: but we rose both at an instant and

    fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be

    believed, so; if not, let them that should reward

    valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take

    it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the

    thigh: if the man were alive and would deny it,

    'zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

 

LANCASTER

 

    This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    This is the strangest fellow, brother John.

    Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:

    For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,

    I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.

 

    A retreat is sounded

    The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.

    Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field,

    To see what friends are living, who are dead.

 

    Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and LANCASTER

 

FALSTAFF

 

    I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that

    rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great,

    I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and

    live cleanly as a nobleman should do.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE V. Another part of the field.

 

    The trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, LORD JOHN LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

    Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace,

    Pardon and terms of love to all of you?

    And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?

    Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?

    Three knights upon our party slain to-day,

    A noble earl and many a creature else

    Had been alive this hour,

    If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne

    Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

 

EARL OF WORCESTER

 

    What I have done my safety urged me to;

    And I embrace this fortune patiently,

    Since not to be avoided it falls on me.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Bear Worcester to the death and Vernon too:

    Other offenders we will pause upon.

 

    Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded

    How goes the field?

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw

    The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,

    The noble Percy slain, and all his men

    Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;

    And falling from a hill, he was so bruised

    That the pursuers took him. At my tent

    The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace

    I may dispose of him.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    With all my heart.

 

PRINCE HENRY

 

    Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you

    This honourable bounty shall belong:

    Go to the Douglas, and deliver him

    Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:

    His valour shown upon our crests to-day

    Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds

    Even in the bosom of our adversaries.

 

LANCASTER

 

    I thank your grace for this high courtesy,

    Which I shall give away immediately.

 

KING HENRY IV

 

    Then this remains, that we divide our power.

    You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland

    Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed,

    To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,

    Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:

    Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,

    To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.

    Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,

    Meeting the cheque of such another day:

    And since this business so fair is done,

    Let us not leave till all our own be won.

 

    Exeunt

 

 

THE END