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Henry IV, Part 1 (Folio 1 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Rosemary Gaby
Not Peer Reviewed
58
The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.
Prin. How now my Lady the Hostesse, what say'st
thou to me?
Hostesse. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the
Court at doore would speake with you: hee sayes, hee
1245comes from your Father.
Prin. Giue him as much as will make him a Royall
man, and send him backe againe to my Mother.
Falst. What manner of man is hee?
Hostesse. An old man.
1250Falst. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight?
Shall I giue him his answere?
Prin. Prethee doe Iacke.
Falst. 'Faith, and Ile send him packing.
Exit.
Prince. Now Sirs: you fought faire; so did you
1255Peto, so did you Bardol: you are Lyons too, you ranne
away vpon instinct: you will not touch the true Prince;
no, fie.
Bard. 'Faith, I ranne when I saw others runne.
Prin. Tell mee now in earnest, how came Falstaffes
1260Sword so hackt?
Peto. Why, he hackt it with his Dagger, and said, hee
would sweare truth out of England, but hee would make
you beleeue it was done in fight, and perswaded vs to doe
the like.
1265Bard. Yea, and to tickle our Noses with Spear-grasse,
to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments
with it, and sweare it was the blood of true men. I did
that I did not this seuen yeeres before, I blusht to heare
his monstrous deuices.
1270Prin. O Villaine, thou stolest a Cup of Sacke eigh-
teene yeeres agoe, and wert taken with the manner, and
euer since thou hast blusht extempore: thou hadst fire
and sword on thy side, and yet thou ranst away; what
instinct hadst thou for it?
1275Bard. My Lord, doe you see these Meteors? doe you
behold these Exhalations?
Prin. I doe
Bard. What thinke you they portend?
Prin. Hot Liuers, and cold Purses.
1280Bard. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken.
Prin. No, if rightly taken, Halter.

Enter Falstaffe.

Heere comes leane Iacke, heere comes bare-bone. How
now my sweet Creature of Bombast, how long is't agoe,
1285Iacke, since thou saw'st thine owne Knee?
Falst. My owne Knee? When I was about thy yeeres
( Hal) I was not an Eagles Talent in the Waste, I could
haue crept into any Aldermans Thumbe-Ring: a plague
of sighing and griefe, it blowes a man vp like a Bladder.
1290There's villanous Newes abroad; heere was Sir Iohn
Braby from your Father; you must goe to the Court in
the Morning. The same mad fellow of the North, Percy;
and hee of Wales, that gaue Amamon the Bastinado,
and made Lucifer Cuckold, and swore the Deuill his true
1295Liege-man vpon the Crosse of a Welch-hooke; what a
plague call you him?
Poin. O, Glendower.
Falst. Owen, Owen; the same, and his Sonne in Law
Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and the sprightly
1300Scot of Scots, Dowglas, that runnes a Horse-backe vp a
Hill perpendicular.
Prin. Hee that rides at high speede, and with a Pistoll
kills a Sparrow flying.
Falst. You haue hit it.
1305Prin. So did he neuer the Sparrow.
Falst. Well, that Rascall hath good mettall in him,
hee will not runne.
Prin. Why, what a Rascall art thou then, to prayse him
so for running?
1310Falst. A Horse-backe (ye Cuckoe) but a foot hee will
not budge a foot.
Prin. Yes Iacke, vpon instinct.
Falst. I grant ye, vpon instinct: Well, hee is there too,
and one Mordake, and a thousand blew-Cappes more.
1315Worcester is stolne away by Night: thy Fathers Beard is
turn'd white with the Newes; you may buy Land now
as cheape as stinking Mackrell.
Prin. Then 'tis like, if there come a hot Sunne, and this
ciuill buffetting hold, wee shall buy Maiden-heads as
1320they buy Hob-nayles, by the Hundreds.
Falst. By the Masse Lad, thou say'st true, it is like wee
shall haue good trading that way. But tell me Hal, art
not thou horrible afear'd? thou being Heire apparant,
could the World picke thee out three such Enemyes a-
1325gaine, as that Fiend Dowglas, that Spirit Percy, and that
Deuill Glendower? Art not thou horrible afraid? Doth
not thy blood thrill at it?
Prin. Not a whit: I lacke some of thy instinct.
Falst. Well, thou wilt be horrible chidde to morrow,
1330when thou commest to thy Father: if thou doe loue me,
practise an answere.
Prin. Doe thou stand for my Father, and examine mee
vpon the particulars of my Life.
Falst. Shall I? content: This Chayre shall bee my
1335State, this Dagger my Scepter, and this Cushion my
Crowne.
Prin. Thy State is taken for a Ioyn'd-Stoole, thy Gol-
den Scepter for a Leaden Dagger, and thy precious rich
Crowne, for a pittifull bald Crowne.
1340Falst. Well, and the fire of Grace be not quite out of
thee, now shalt thou be moued. Giue me a Cup of Sacke
to make mine eyes looke redde, that it may be thought I
haue wept, for I must speake in passion, and I will doe it
in King Cambyses vaine.
1345Prin. Well, heere is my Legge.
Falst. And heere is my speech: stand aside Nobilitie.
Hostesse. This is excellent sport, yfaith.
Falst. Weepe not, sweet Queene, for trickling teares
are vaine.
1350Hostesse. O the Father, how hee holdes his counte-
nance?
Falst. For Gods sake Lords, conuey my trustfull Queen,
For teares doe stop the floud-gates of her eyes.
Hostesse. O rare, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
1355Players, as euer I see.
Falst. Peace good Pint-pot, peace good Tickle-braine.
Harry, I doe not onely maruell where thou spendest thy
time; but also, how thou art accompanied: For though
the Camomile, the more it is troden, the faster it growes;
1360yet Youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it weares.
Thou art my Sonne: I haue partly thy Mothers Word,
partly my Opinion; but chiefely, a villanous tricke of
thine Eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether Lippe, that
doth warrant me. If then thou be Sonne to mee, heere
1365lyeth the point: why, being Sonne to me, art thou so
poynted at? Shall the blessed Sonne of Heauen proue a
Micher, and eate Black-berryes? a question not to bee
askt. Shall the Sonne of England proue a Theefe, and
take Purses? a question to be askt. There is a thing,
1370Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is knowne to
many