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Henry IV, Part 1 (Folio 1 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Rosemary Gaby
Not Peer Reviewed
56
The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.
980they cry hem, and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am
so good a proficient in one quarter of an houre, that I can
drinke with any Tinker in his owne Language during my
life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor, that thou
wer't not with me in this action: but sweet Ned, to swee-
985ten which name of Ned, I giue thee this peniworth of Su-
gar, clapt euen now into my hand by an vnder Skinker,
one that neuer spake other English in his life, then Eight
shillings and six pence, and, You are welcome: with this shril
addition, Anon, Anon sir, Score a Pint of Bastard in the
990Halfe Moone, or so. But Ned, to driue away time till Fal-
staffe come, I prythee doe thou stand in some by-roome,
while I question my puny Drawer, to what end hee gaue
me the Sugar, and do neuer leaue calling Francis, that his
Tale to me may be nothing but, Anon: step aside, and Ile
995shew thee a President.
Poines. Francis.
Prin. Thou art perfect.
Poin. Francis.
Enter Drawer.
1000Fran. Anon, anon sir; looke downe into the Pomgar-
net, Ralfe.
Prince. Come hither Francis.
Fran. My Lord.
Prin. How long hast thou to serue, Francis?
1005Fran. Forsooth fiue yeares, and as much as to---
Poin. Francis.
Fran. Anon, anon sir.
Prin. Fiue yeares: Berlady a long Lease for the clin-
king of Pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as
1010to play the coward with thy Indenture, & shew it a faire
paire of heeles, and run from it?
Fran. O Lord sir, Ile be sworne vpon all the Books in
England, I could finde in my heart.
Poin. Francis.
1015Fran. Anon, anon sir.
Prin. How old art thou, Francis?
Fran. Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shalbe---
Poin. Francis.
Fran. Anon sir, pray you stay a little, my Lord.
1020Prin. Nay but harke you Francis, for the Sugar thou
gauest me, 'twas a penyworth, was't not?
Fran. O Lord sir, I would it had bene two.
Prin. I will giue thee for it a thousand pound: Aske
me when thou wilt, and thou shalt haue it.
1025Poin. Francis.
Fran. Anon, anon.
Prin. Anon Francis? No Francis, but to morrow Fran-
cis: or Francis, on thursday: or indeed Francis when thou
wilt. But Francis.
1030Fran. My Lord.
Prin. Wilt thou rob this Leatherne Ierkin, Christall
button, Not-pated, Agat ring, Puke stocking, Caddice
garter, Smooth tongue, Spanish pouch.
Fran. O Lord sir, who do you meane?
1035Prin. Why then your browne Bastard is your onely
drinke: for looke you Francis, your white Canuas doub-
let will sulley. In Barbary sir, it cannot come to so much.
Fran. What sir?
Poin. Francis.
1040Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare them call?
Heere they both call him, the Drawer stands amazed,
not knowing which way to go.

Enter Vintner.
Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a cal-
1045ling? Looke to the Guests within: My Lord, olde Sir
Iohn with halfe a dozen more, are at the doore: shall I let
them in?
Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore.
Poines.
1050
Enter Poines.
Poin. Anon, anon sir.
Prin. Sirra, Falstaffe and the rest of the Theeues, are at
the doore, shall we be merry?
Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lad. But harke yee,
1055What cunning match haue you made this iest of the
Drawer? Come, what's the issue?
Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue shewed them-
selues humors, since the old dayes of goodman Adam, to
the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight.
1060What's a clocke Francis?
Fran. Anon, anon sir.
Prin. That euer this Fellow should haue fewer words
then a Parret, and yet the sonne of a Woman. His indu-
stry is vp-staires and down-staires, his eloquence the par-
1065cell of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percies mind, the Hot-
spurre of the North, he that killes me some sixe or seauen
dozen of Scots at a Breakfast, washes his hands, and saies
to his wife; Fie vpon this quiet life, I want worke. O my
sweet Harry sayes she, how many hast thou kill'd to day?
1070Giue my Roane horse a drench (sayes hee) and answeres,
some fourteene, an houre after: a trifle, a trifle. I prethee
call in Falstaffe, Ile play Percy, and that damn'd Brawne
shall play Dame Mortimer his wife. Riuo, sayes the drun-
kard. Call in Ribs, call in Tallow.

1075
Enter Falstaffe.

Poin. Welcome Iacke, where hast thou beene?
Fal. A plague of all Cowards I say, and a Vengeance
too, marry and Amen. Giue me a cup of Sacke Boy. Ere
I leade this life long, Ile sowe nether stockes, and mend
1080them too. A plague of all cowards. Giue me a Cup of
Sacke, Rogue. Is there no Vertue extant?
Prin. Didst thou neuer see Titan kisse a dish of Butter,
pittifull hearted Titan that melted at the sweete Tale of
the Sunne? If thou didst, then behold that compound.
1085Fal. You Rogue, heere's Lime in this Sacke too: there
is nothing but Roguery to be found in Villanous man; yet
a Coward is worse then a Cup of Sack with lime. A vil-
lanous Coward, go thy wayes old Iacke, die when thou
wilt, if manhood, good manhood be not forgot vpon the
1090face of the earth, then am I a shotten Herring: there liues
not three good men vnhang'd in England, & one of them
is fat, and growes old, God helpe the while, a bad world I
say. I would I were a Weauer, I could sing all manner of
songs. A plague of all Cowards, I say still.
1095Prin. How now Woolsacke, what mntter you?
Fal. A Kings Sonne? If I do not beate thee out of thy
Kingdome with a dagger of Lath, and driue all thy Sub-
iects afore thee like a flocke of Wilde-geese, Ile neuer
weare haire on my face more. You Prince of Wales?
1100Prin. Why you horson round man? what's the matter?
Fal. Are you not a Coward? Answer me to that, and
Poines there?
Prin. Ye fatch paunch, and yee call mee Coward, Ile
stab thee.
1105Fal. I call thee Coward? Ile see thee damn'd ere I call
the Coward: but I would giue a thousand pound I could
run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the
shoulders, you care not who sees your backe: Call you
that