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- Edition: Henry IV, Part 1
Henry IV, Part 1 (Modern)
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0.1The History of Henry the Fourth, Part One
1[1.1]
5So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
My liege, this haste was hot in question,
It seems then that the tidings of this broil
This matched with other did, my gracious lord,
Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,
In faith it is -- a conquest for a prince to boast of.
Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin
This is his uncle's teaching. This is Worcester,
But I have sent for him to answer this;
I will my liege.
1.1.107.1 Exeunt.
112[1.2]
113Enter Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff.
Now Hal, what time of day is it lad?
Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack, 117and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches 118after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly 119which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to 120do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of sack, 121and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and 122dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun 123himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no 124reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the 126time of the day.
Indeed you come near me now, Hal, for we that 128take purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not by 129Phoebus, "he, that wand'ring knight so fair." And I prithee, sweet 130wag, when thou art a king, as god save thy grace -- "majesty" I 131should say, for grace thou wilt have none --
What, none?
No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be 135prologue to an egg and butter.
Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly.
Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art king let not us 138that are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the 139day's beauty: let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the 140shade, minions of the moon, and let men say we be men of 141good government, being governed as the sea is, by our noble 142and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance 143we steal.
Thou sayst well, and it holds well too, for the fortune 145of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, 146being governed as the sea is by the moon. As for proof now: 147a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night and 148most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing 149"lay by!", and spent with crying "bring in!"; now in as low an ebb 151as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as high a flow as the 152ridge of the gallows.
By the lord, thou sayst true, lad; and is not my hostess 154of the tavern a most sweet wench?
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is 156not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy quips 158and thy quiddities? What a plague have I to do with a buff 159jerkin?
Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of 161the tavern?
Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time 163and oft.
Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
No, I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
Yea and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch, 167and where it would not I have used my credit.
Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent that 169thou art heir apparent -- but I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be 170gallows standing in England when thou art king, and 171resolution thus fubbed as it is with the rusty curb of old Father 172Antic the law? Do not thou when thou art king hang a thief.
No, thou shalt.
Shall I? Oh, rare! By the lord, I'll be a brave judge.
Thou judgest false already. I mean thou shalt have 177the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my 180humor as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.
For obtaining of suits?
Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman 184hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a 185gib cat, or a lugged bear.
Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
What sayst thou to a hare, or the melancholy of 189Moorditch?
Thou hast the most unsavory similes, and art indeed 191the most comparative, rascalliest sweet young prince. But Hal, 192I prithee trouble me no more with vanity. I would to god 193thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were 194to be bought. An old lord of the Council rated me the 195other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and 196yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and yet he 197talked wisely, and in the street too.
Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards it.
Oh, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able 200to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, 201god forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew 202nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better 203than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will 204give it over. By the lord, an I do not, I am a villain. I'll be 205damned for never a king's son in Christendom.
Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, 209call me villain and baffle me.
I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying 211to purse-taking.
Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no sin for a man 213to labor in his vocation.
1.2.33.1Enter Poins
1.2.34214Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. 215O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot 216enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever 217cried "Stand!" to a true man.
Good morrow Ned.
Good morrow, sweet Hal. [To Falstaff] What says Monsieur 220Remorse? What says Sir John Sack and Sugar: Jack? How 221agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest 222him on Good Friday last, for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's 223leg?
Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his 225bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs: he will 226give the devil his due.
[To Falstaff] Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with 228the devil.
Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.
But my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning by four o'clock 231early at Gad's Hill, there are pilgrims going to 232Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat 233purses. I have vizards for you all; you have horses for yourselves. 234Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester. I have bespoke supper tomorrow 235night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure as sleep. 236If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will 238not, tarry at home and be hanged.
Hear ye Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not I'll 240hang you for going.
You will, chops?
Hal, wilt thou make one?
Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith.
There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship 245in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not 246stand for ten shillings.
Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
Why that's well said.
Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
By the lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.
I care not.
Sir John, I prithee leave the prince and me alone. I will 253lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go.
Well, god give thee the spirit of persuasion and him 256the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move and 257what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may -- for 258recreation sake -- prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the 259time want countenance. Farewell, you shall find me in Eastcheap.
Farewell, the latter spring; farewell, All-Hallown summer.
1.2.53.1[Exit Falstaff.]
Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us 264tomorrow. I have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. 265Falstaff, Peto, Bardolph, and Gadshill shall rob those men that 266we have already waylaid -- yourself and I will not be there -- 267and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, 269cut this head off from my shoulders.
How shall we part with them in setting forth?
Why, we will set forth before or after them and appoint 272them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail. 273And then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves, which 274they shall have no sooner achieved but we'll set upon them.
Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our horses, by 277our habits, and by every other appointment to be ourselves.
Tut, our horses they shall not see -- I'll tie them in the wood; 280our vizards we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I 281have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted 282outward garments.
Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred 285cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer 286than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest 287will be the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell 288us when we meet at supper: how thirty at least he fought with, 289what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in 290the reproof of this lives the jest.
Well, I'll go with thee. Provide us all things 293necessary, and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll 294sup. Farewell.
Farewell, my lord.
1.2.62.1 Exit Poins.
I know you all, and will a while uphold
1.2.85.1Exit.
319[1.3]
My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves
My lord --
Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see
1.3.21.1Exit Worcester.
344Northumberland
Yea my good lord.
My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
The circumstance considered, good my lord,
Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,
Revolted Mortimer!
Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him.
1.3.123.1 Exit King [with all but Hotspur and Northumberland.]
An if the devil come and roar for them
What, drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile.
1.3.129.1Enter Worcester.
452Hotspur
Speak of Mortimer?
Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.
Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
He will forsooth have all my prisoners,
I cannot blame him: was not he proclaimed
He was; I heard the proclamation.
And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth
But soft, I pray you, did King Richard then
480Northumberland
He did, myself did hear it.
Nay then, I cannot blame his cousin king
511Worcester
Peace, cousin, say no more.
If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim.
Imagination of some great exploit
By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap
He apprehends a world of figures here,
I cry you mercy.
538Worcester
Those same noble Scots
540Hotspur
I'll keep them all;
544Worcester
You start away,
547Hotspur
Nay, I will; that's flat.
Hear you, cousin, a word.
All studies here I solemnly defy,
Farewell, kinsman. I'll talk to you
Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with rods,
At Berkeley castle.
You say true.
Nay, if you have not, to it again.
586Hotspur
I have done, i'faith.
Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Of York, is't not?
True, who bears hard
I smell it; upon my life, it will do well!
Before the game is afoot thou still let'st slip.
Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot --
611Worcester
And so they shall.
In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed.
And 'tis no little reason bids us speed
He does, he does. We'll be revenged on him.
Cousin, farewell. No further go in this
Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust.
Uncle, adieu. Oh, let the hours be short
1.3.299.1Exeunt.
633[2.1]
634Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.
Heigh-ho! An it be not four by the day, I'll be hanged. 636Charles's Wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not 637packed. What, ostler!
[Within] Anon, anon!
I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in 640the point. Poor jade is wrung in the withers, out of all cess.
Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that 644is the next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turned 645upside down since Robin Ostler died.
Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose; 648it was the death of him.
I think this be the most villainous house in all London 650road for fleas. I am stung like a tench.
Like a tench? By the mass, there is ne'er a king 652Christian could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.
Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we 655leak in your chimney, and your chamber-lye breeds fleas like 656a loach.
What, ostler! Come away and be hanged, come away!
I have a gammon of bacon and two races of 660ginger to be delivered as far as Charing Cross.
God's body, the turkeys in my pannier are quite 662starved! What, ostler! A plague on thee, hast thou never an eye in thy 663head? Canst not hear? An 'twere not as good deed as drink to 664break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! 665Hast no faith in thee?
Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
I think it be two o'clock.
I prithee lend me thy lantern to see my gelding in the 670stable.
Nay, by god, soft. I know a trick worth two of that, 672i'faith.
[To Second Carrier] I pray thee, lend me thine.
Ay, when? Canst tell? "Lend me thy lantern," quoth he. 675Marry, I'll see thee hanged first.
Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to 677London?
Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant 679thee. Come, neighbor Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen. 680They will along with company, for they have great charge.
2.1.19.1Exeunt [Carriers].
What ho, chamberlain!
"At hand, quoth pickpurse."
That's even as fair as "at hand, quoth the chamberlain," 686for thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving 687direction doth from laboring: thou layest the plot how.
Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that 690I told you yesternight. There's a franklin in the Weald of Kent 691hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold. I heard 692him tell it to one of his company last night at supper, a kind of 693auditor, one that hath abundance of charge too, god knows 694what. They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; they will 695away presently.
Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas's clerks, 698I'll give thee this neck.
No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the 700hangman, for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as 701a man of falsehood may.
What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'll make 703a fat pair of gallows, for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with 704me, and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut, there are other 705Trojans that thou dreamest not of, the which for sport's sake are 706content to do the profession some grace, that would, if matters 707should be looked into, for their own credit's sake make all whole. 709I am joined with no foot-landrakers, no 710long-staff sixpenny strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms, 711but with nobility and tranquility, burgomasters and 712great oneyers; such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak, 713and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray. And 714yet, zounds, I lie, for they pray continually to their saint the 715commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her; for 717they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.
What, the commonwealth their boots? Will she 719hold out water in foul way?
She will, she will, justice hath liquored her. We steal as 721in a castle, cocksure; we have the recipe of fernseed, we 722walk invisible.
Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to 724the night than to fernseed for your walking invisible.
Give me thy hand; thou shalt have a share in our 728purchase, as I am a true man.
Nay, rather let me have it as you are a false thief.
Go to, "homo" is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler 732bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.
2.1.32.1[Exeunt.]
734[2.2]
735Enter Prince, Poins, and Peto.
Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff's horse, 737and he frets like a gummed velvet.
Stand close.
2.2.2.1[Poins and Peto hide.]
Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! What a brawling dost thou 742keep!
Where's Poins, Hal?
He is walked up to the top of the hill. I'll go seek him.
2.2.6.1[He joins Poins and Peto]
I am accursed to rob in that thief's company. The rascal 747hath removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I 748travel but four foot by the square further afoot, I shall break 749my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death, for all 750this if I scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn 751his company hourly any time this two-and-twenty years, and yet I am 752bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not 754given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged. It could 755not be else -- I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! A plague 756upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot 757further. An 'twere not as good a deed as drink to turn true 758man and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever 759chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is 760threescore and ten miles afoot with me, and the stony-hearted 761villains know it well enough. A plague upon it when thieves 762cannot be true one to another! 763
2.2.7.1They whistle.
2.2.8.1[Prince, Poins and Peto come forward(?)]
Peace, ye fat-guts. Lie down, lay thine ear close to the 767ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travelers.
Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? 770'Sblood, I'll not bear my own flesh so far afoot again for 771all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean 772ye to colt me thus?
Thou liest: thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good 775king's son.
Out, ye rogue, shall I be your ostler?
Hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! 778If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on 779you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my 780poison. When a jest is so forward -- and afoot too -- I hate it.
Stand!
2.2.17Falstaff
So I do, against my will.
Oh, 'tis our setter, I know his voice. Bardolph, what news?
Case ye, case ye, on with your vizards! There's money 788of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's 789exchequer.
You lie, ye rogue, 'tis going to the king's tavern.
There's enough to make us all.
To be hanged.
Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane. Ned 794Poins and I will walk lower. If they scape from your 795encounter, then they light on us.
How many be there of them?
Some eight or ten.
Zounds, will they not rob us?
What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
Indeed I am not John of Gaunt your grandfather, but 801yet no coward, Hal.
Well, we leave that to the proof.
Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. When 804thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.
Now cannot I strike him if I should be hanged.
[Aside to Poins] Ned, where are our disguises?
[Aside to the prince] Here, hard by, stand close.
2.2.33.1[Exeunt Prince and Poins.]
Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every 810man to his business.
Come, neighbor, the boy shall lead our horses down 813the hill. We'll walk afoot a while, and ease their legs.
Stand!
Traveler
Jesus bless us!
Strike, down with them, cut the villains' throats. Ah, 818whoreson caterpillars, bacon-fed knaves! They hate us youth. 819Down with them, fleece them!
Oh, we are undone, both we and ours forever!
Hang, ye gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat 822chuffs, I would your store were here. On, bacons, on! What, ye 823knaves, young men must live. You are grand-jurors, are ye? We'll 824jure ye, faith.
The thieves have bound the true men. Now could 828thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would 829be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest 830forever.
Stand close, I hear them coming.
2.2.41.1[They hide.]
Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before 834day. An the prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, 835there's no equity stirring. There's no more valor in that Poins 836than in a wild duck.
Your money.
Villains!
2.2.44.1They all run away, and Falstaff after a blow or two runs away840 too, leaving the booty behind them.
Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse. The thieves 842are all scattered and possessed with fear so strongly that they dare 843not meet each other. Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, 844good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, and lards the lean earth 845as he walks along. Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
How the fat rogue roared!
2.2.46.1Exeunt.
848[2.3]
849Enter Hotspur [alone] reading a letter.
"But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be 851there, in respect of the love I bear your house." 852He could be contented; why is he not then? In respect of 853the love he bears our house! He shows in this he loves his own 854barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. 855"The purpose you undertake is dangerous," 856-- Why, that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to 857drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle danger we 858pluck this flower safety. 859"The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have 860named uncertain, the time itself unsorted, and your whole plot too 861light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition." 862Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a 863shallow, cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By 864the lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid, our friends true 865and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an 866excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is 867this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the 869general course of the action. Zounds, an I were now by this 870rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan! Is there not my 871father, my uncle, and myself? Lord Edmund Mortimer, my 872lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not besides the 873Douglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the 874ninth of the next month? And are they not some of them set 875forward already? What a pagan rascal is this, an infidel! Ha, you 876shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart will he to 878the king, and lay open all our proceedings! Oh, I could 879divide myself and go to buffets for moving such a dish of skim-milk 880with so honorable an action! Hang him! Let him tell the king; we 881are prepared. I will set forward tonight.
2.3.1.1Enter his lady.
O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
What ho!
2.3.31.1[Enter Servant.]
Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
What horse? Roan? A crop-ear, is it not?
It is, my lord.
919Hotspur
That roan shall be my throne.
2.3.38Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
2.3.38.1[Exit servant.]
But hear you, my lord.
What sayst thou, my lady?
What is it carries you away?
Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Out, you mad-headed ape!
2.3.45As you are tossed with. In faith,
2.3.47I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
2.3.49To line his enterprise; but if you go --
So far afoot? I shall be weary, love.
Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
2.3.53In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
Away, away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not,
Do you not love me? Do you not indeed?
Come, wilt thou see me ride?
How, so far?
Not an inch further. But hark you Kate,
It must of force.
2.3.83.1Exeunt.
964[2.4]
965Enter Prince and Poins.
Ned, prithee come out of that fat room, and lend me 967thy hand to laugh a little.
Where hast been, Hal?
With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or 970fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very bass-string of humility. 971Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers, and 972can call them all by their Christian names, as Tom, Dick, and 973Francis. They take it already upon their salvation that though I 974be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy, and tell me 975flatly I am no proud Jack like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad 976of mettle, a good boy (by the lord, so they call me) and when I 977am king of England I shall command all the good lads in 978Eastcheap. They call drinking deep "dyeing scarlet," and when you 979breathe in your watering they cry "hem!" and bid you "play it off!" 980To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour 981that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during 982my life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor that thou 984wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned -- to sweeten 985which name of Ned I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped 986even now into my hand by an underskinker, one that never spake 987other English in his life than "Eight shillings and sixpence," and 988"You are welcome," with this shrill addition, "Anon, anon, sir! Score a 989pint of bastard in the Half-moon!" or so. But, Ned, to drive 990away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand in 991some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end 992he gave me the sugar, and do thou never leave calling "Francis!" 993that his tale to me may be nothing but "Anon!" Step aside, and I'll 995show thee a precedent.
[Exit Poins.]
[Within] Francis!
Thou art perfect.
[Within] Francis!
2.4.6.1Enter Drawer.
Anon, anon, sir! [Calling] Look down into the Pomgarnet, 1001Ralph!
Come hither, Francis.
My lord.
How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Forsooth, five years, and as much as to --
[Within] Francis!
Anon, anon, sir.
Five year! By'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of 1009pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward 1010with thy indenture, and show it a fair pair of heels, and run 1011from it?
O lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in 1013England, I could find in my heart --
[Within] Francis!
Anon sir.
How old art thou Francis?
Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shall be --
[Within] Francis!
Anon sir. Pray stay a little my lord.
Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest 1021me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not?
O lord, I would it had been two!
I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask me when 1024thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
[Within] Francis!
Anon, anon.
Anon, Francis? No, Francis, but tomorrow, Francis; or, 1028Francis, a-Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But 1029Francis --
My lord?
Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, 1032not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue 1033Spanish pouch?
O lord, sir, who do you mean?
Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink! For 1036look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. In 1037Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.
What sir?
[Within] Francis!
Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them call?
2.4.34.2Enter Vintner.
What, standest thou still, and hearest such a calling? Look 1045to the guests within.
2.4.35.1[Exit Francis.]
Let them alone a while, and then open the door.
2.4.37.1[Exit Vintner.]
2.4.38Poins!
Anon, anon sir!
2.4.39.1Enter Poins.
Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the 1053door. Shall we be merry?
As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye, what cunning 1055match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come, 1056what's the issue?
I am now of all humors that have showed themselves 1058humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil 1059age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
2.4.42.1[Enter Francis.]
Anon, anon, sir.
2.4.44.1[Exit Francis.]
That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a 1063parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs 1064and downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am 1065not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North, he that kills me 1066some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes 1067his hands, and says to his wife, "Fie upon this quiet life! I want 1068work." "O my sweet Harry," says she, "how many hast thou killed 1069today?" "Give my roan horse a drench," says he, and 1070answers, "Some fourteen," an hour after; "a trifle, a trifle." I prithee 1072call in Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall 1073play Dame Mortimer his wife. "Rivo!" says the drunkard. Call in 1074Ribs, call in Tallow.
Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too, 1078marry and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life 1079long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them and foot them too. 1080A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there 1081no virtue extant?
2.4.47.1 He drinketh.
Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter (pitiful 1083hearted Titan!) that melted at the sweet tale of the sun's? If thou 1084didst, then behold that compound.
You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. There is 1086nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man, yet a coward is 1087worse than a cup of sack with lime in it. A villainous coward! 1088Go thy ways, old Jack, die when thou wilt. If manhood, good 1089manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a 1090shotten herring. There lives not three good men unhanged in 1091England, and one of them is fat and grows old, god help the 1092while. A bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver, I could sing psalms, 1094or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say still.
How now, woolsack, what mutter you?
A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom 1097with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a 1098flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You, 1099Prince of Wales!
Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
Are not you a coward? Answer me to that. And 1102Poins there?
Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the 1104lord I'll stab thee.
I call thee coward? I'll see thee damned ere I call thee 1106coward, but I would give a thousand pound I could run as 1107fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you 1108care not who sees your back. Call you that backing of your 1109friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them that will 1110face me. Give me a cup of sack. I am a rogue if I drunk today.
O villain, thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunkest last.
All is one for that.
2.4.57.1He drinketh.
What's the matter?
What's the matter? There be four of us here have ta'en a 1118thousand pound this day morning.
Where is it, Jack, where is it?
Where is it? Taken from us it is. A hundred upon poor 1121four of us.
What, a hundred, man?
I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen 1124of them, two hours together. I have scaped by miracle. I am 1125eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hose, 1126my buckler cut through and through, my sword hacked like a 1127handsaw. Ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man. All 1128would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak. [Indicates Gadshill, Peto, and Bardolph.] If they 1129speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the sons 1131of darkness.
Speak sirs, how was it?
We four set upon some dozen --
Sixteen at least, my lord.
And bound them.
No, no, they were not bound.
You rogue, they were bound every man of them, or 1138I am a Jew else, an Hebrew Jew.
As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set 1140upon us.
And unbound the rest; and then come in the other.
What, fought you with them all?
All? I know not what you call all, but if I fought not with 1145fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish. If there were not two- or 1146three-and-fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged 1147creature.
Pray god you have not murdered some of them.
Nay, that's past praying for. I have peppered two of them. 1151Two I am sure I have paid -- two rogues in buckram suits. I tell 1152thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. 1153Thou knowest my old ward -- here I lay, and thus I bore my 1154point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me.
What, four? Thou saidst but two even now.
Four, Hal, I told thee four.
Ay, ay, he said four.
These four came all afront, and mainly thrust at me. 1160I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my 1161target, thus.
Seven? Why, there were but four even now.
In buckram?
Ay, four in buckram suits.
Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
Prithee, let him alone. We shall have more anon.
Dost thou hear me, Hal?
Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in 1170buckram that I told thee of --
So, two more already.
Their points being broken --
Down fell their hose.
Began to give me ground. But I followed me close, came 1175in foot and hand, and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.
Oh, monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out of two!
But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves 1180in Kendal green came at my back and let drive at me; for it 1181was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.
These lies are like their father that begets them, gross as 1184a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou 1185knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch --
What, art thou mad? Art thou mad? Is not the truth the 1188truth?
Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green 1190when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us 1191your reason. What sayst thou to this?
Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were at the 1195strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on 1196compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were 1197as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon 1198compulsion, I.
I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. This sanguine 1200coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill 1201of flesh --
'Sblood, you starveling, you eel-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you 1203bull's pizzle, you stock-fish. Oh, for breath to utter what is like thee! 1204You tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck!
Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again, and when thou 1207hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.
Mark, Jack.
We two saw you four set on four, and bound them, and 1211were masters of their wealth. Mark now how a plain tale shall 1212put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and, with a word, 1213outfaced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show 1214it you here in the house. And Falstaff, you carried your guts 1215away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and 1216still run and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou,1218 to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in 1219fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole canst thou 1220now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?
Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?
By the lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, 1225hear you, my masters. Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? 1226Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as 1227valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct. The lion will not touch 1228the true prince -- instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward 1229on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee during 1230my life: I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But by 1231the lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to 1232the doors. Watch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, 1233boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come 1234to you! What, shall we be merry, shall we have a play 1235extempore?
Content, and the argument shall be thy running away.
Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.
2.4.108.1Enter Hostess
O Jesu, my lord the prince!
How now, my lady the hostess, what sayst thou to me?
Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door 1244would speak with you. He says he comes from your father.
Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and 1247send him back again to my mother.
What manner of man is he?
An old man.
What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I 1251give him his answer?
Prithee do, Jack.
Faith, and I'll send him packing.
2.4.117.1Exit.
Now sirs, by'r Lady, you fought fair; so did you, Peto; so 1255did you, Bardolph. You are lions, too, you ran away upon instinct, you 1256will not touch the true prince, no fie!
Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's sword 1260so hacked?
Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would 1262swear truth out of England but he would make you believe 1263it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like.
Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass, to make 1266them bleed; and then to beslubber our garments with it, and 1267swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this 1268seven year before -- I blushed to hear his monstrous devices.
O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years 1271ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast 1272blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet 1273thou rannest away. What instinct hadst thou for it?
My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you 1276behold these exhalations?
I do.
What think you they portend?
Hot livers, and cold purses.
Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
2.4.128.1Enter Falstaff.
No, if rightly taken, halter. Here comes lean Jack; here 1283comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast? 1284How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was 1287not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any 1288alderman's thumb-ring. A plague of sighing and grief, it blows 1289a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad. Here 1290was Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in 1292the morning. That same mad fellow of the North, Percy, and 1293he of Wales that gave Amamon the bastinado, and made 1294Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross 1295of a Welsh hook -- what a plague call you him?
Owen Glendower.
Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law 1299Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of 1300Scots, Douglas, that runs a-horseback up a hill 1301perpendicular --
He that rides at high speed and with his pistol kills a 1303sparrow flying.
You have hit it.
So did he never the sparrow.
Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him, he will not 1307run.
Why, what a rascal art thou, then, to praise him so for 1309running!
A-horseback, ye cuckoo, but afoot he will not budge 1311a foot.
Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one 1314Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more. Worcester is stolen 1315away tonight. Thy father's beard is turned white with the news. 1316You may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.
Why then, it is like, if there come a hot June and this 1319civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy 1320hobnails: by the hundreds.
By the mass, lad, thou sayst true; it is like we shall have 1322good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, art not thou horrible 1323afeard? Thou being heir-apparent, could the world pick thee 1324out three such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that 1325spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? 1326Doth not thy blood thrill at it?
Not a whit, i'faith. I lack some of thy instinct.
Well, thou wilt be horribly chid tomorrow when 1330thou comest to thy father. If thou love me, practice an 1331answer.
Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the 1333particulars of my life.
Shall I? Content. This chair shall be my state, this 1335dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre 1338for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful 1339bald crown.
Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, 1341now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to make 1342my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; 1343for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein.1344
Well, here is my leg.
And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i'faith.
Weep not, sweet Queen, for trickling tears are vain.
O the Father, how he holds his countenance!
For god's sake, lords, convey my tristful Queen,
O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as 1355ever I see!
Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. --1357Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy 1358time, but also how thou art accompanied. For though the 1359camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, so youth, 1360the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son 1361I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, but 1362chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging 1363of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be 1364son to me, here lies the point. Why, being son to me, art 1365thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a 1367micher, and eat blackberries? A question not to be asked. Shall the 1368son of England prove a thief, and take purses? A question to 1369be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, 1370and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch. This 1371pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile. So doth the 1373company thou keepest. For, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in 1374drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words 1375only, but in woes also. And yet there is a virtuous man whom 1376I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.
What manner of man, an it like your majesty?
A goodly, portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful 1381look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, 1382his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore. And now 1383I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man should be 1384lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his 1385looks. If, then, the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit 1387by the tree, then peremptorily I speak it: there is virtue in that 1388Falstaff. Him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou 1389naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?
Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and 1392I'll play my father.
Depose me. If thou dost it half so gravely, so 1394majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a 1395rabbit sucker, or a poulter's hare.
Well, here I am set.
And here I stand. Judge, my masters.
Now, Harry, whence come you?
My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
'Sblood, my lord, they are false. [Aside] Nay, I'll tickle ye for a young 1402prince i'faith.
Swearest thou, ungracious boy? Henceforth ne'er look 1404on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace. There is a 1405devil haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat man; a tun of man 1406is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of 1407humors, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel 1409of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of 1410guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, 1411that reverend Vice, that gray Iniquity, that father Ruffian, that 1412Vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? 1413Wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? Wherein 1415cunning, but in craft? Wherein crafty, but in villainy? Wherein 1416villainous, but in all things? Wherein worthy, but in nothing?
I would your grace would take me with you. Whom 1419means your grace?
That villainous, abominable misleader of youth, 1421Falstaff; that old white-bearded Satan.
My lord, the man I know.
I know thou dost.
But to say I know more harm in him than in myself 1425were to say more than I know. That he is old, the more the 1426pity, his white hairs do witness it. But that he is, saving your reverence, 1427a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar 1428be a fault, god help the wicked. If to be old and merry be a sin, 1430then many an old host that I know is damned. If to be fat be to be 1431hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord, 1432banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins, but for sweet Jack 1433Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant 1434Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant being, as he is, old Jack 1436Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not 1437him thy Harry's company. Banish plump Jack, and banish all 1438the world.
I do, I will.
2.4.174.1 [Knocking within. Exeunt Hostess, Francis and Bardolph.] Enter Bardolph running.
O my lord, my lord, the sheriff with a most monstrous 1442watch is at the door.
Out, ye rogue! Play out the play! I have much to say in 1444the behalf of that Falstaff.
O Jesu! My lord, my lord!
Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick! What's 1448the matter?
The sheriff and all the watch are at the door. They are 1450come to search the house. Shall I let them in?
Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece of gold a 1453counterfeit. Thou art essentially made, without seeming so.
And thou a natural coward without instinct.
I deny your major. If you will deny the sheriff, so. If not, 1458let him enter. If I become not a cart as well as another man, a 1459plague on my bringing up. I hope I shall as soon be strangled 1460with a halter as another.
Go, hide thee behind the arras. The rest walk up above. 1463Now, my masters, for a true face and good conscience.
Both which I have had, but their date is out; and 1466therefore I'll hide me.
2.4.184.1[Falstaff hides.]
Call in the sheriff.
Now Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?
First pardon me my lord. A hue and cry
What men?
One of them is well known, my gracious lord,
As fat as butter.
The man, I do assure you, is not here,
I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
It may be so. If he have robbed these men,
Good night, my noble lord.
I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
2.4.206.1Exit [with Carrier.]
This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go call 1493him forth.
Falstaff!
2.4.208.1[He draws back the arras.]
Hark how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
What hast thou found?
Nothing but papers, my lord.
Let's see what they be, read them.
[reading] Item: a capon. 2s. 2d.
Oh, monstrous! But one halfpennyworth of bread to this 1509intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at 1510more advantage. There let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in 1511the morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place shall be 1512honorable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot, and I know 1514his death will be a march of twelve score. The money shall be 1515paid back again, with advantage. Be with me betimes in the 1516morning; and so good morrow, Peto.
Good morrow, good my lord.
2.4.220.1Exeunt.
1519[3.1]
These promises are fair, the parties sure,
Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower, will you sit down? 1526And uncle Worcester -- a plague upon it, I have forgot the map!
No here it is;
1533Hotspur
And you in hell,
I cannot blame him. At my nativity
Why, so it would have done at the same season if your 1541mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself had never been 1542born.
I say the earth did shake when I was born.
And I say the earth was not of my mind,
The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.
Oh, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
1560Glendower
Cousin, of many men
I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.
Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad.
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Why so can I, or so can any man,
Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.
And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil,
Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
Come, here is the map. Shall we divide our right,
The Archdeacon hath divided it
A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;
Methinks my moiety north from Burton here
Not wind? It shall, it must -- you see it doth.
Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,
I'll have it so; a little charge will do it.
I'll not have it altered.
Will not you?
No, nor you shall not.
Who shall say me nay?
Why, that will I.
Let me not understand you, then: speak it in Welsh.
I can speak English, lord, as well as you,
Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.
Come, you shall have Trent turned.
I do not care. I'll give thrice so much land
The moon shines fair. You may away by night.
3.1.141.1Exit.
Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!
I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me
In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed!
This is the deadly spite that angers me:
My daughter weeps; she'll not part with you.
Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,
I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh
I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
Oh, I am ignorance itself in this!
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
With all my heart, I'll sit and hear her sing.
Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you
Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.
Go, ye giddy goose!
Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
Then should you be nothing but musical,
I had rather hear Lady my brach howl in Irish.
Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
No.
Then be still.
Neither, 'tis a woman's fault.
Now god help thee!
To the Welsh lady's bed.
What's that?
Peace, she sings.
Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.
Not mine, in good sooth.
Not yours, in good sooth!
I will not sing.
'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. 1806An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; 1807and so come in when ye will.
3.1.254.1Exit.
Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow
With all my heart.
3.1.259.1Exeunt.
1814[3.2]
1815Enter the king, Prince of Wales, and others.
Lords, give us leave. The Prince of Wales and I
3.2.3.1Exeunt lords.
So please your majesty, I would I could
God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
3.2.91.1[He weeps.]
I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
King
For all the world,
Do not think so; you shall not find it so.
A hundred thousand rebels die in this.
So hath the business that I come to speak of.
The Earl of Westmorland set forth today,
3.2.180.1Exeunt.
2002[3.3]
2003Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? 2005Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about 2006me like an old lady's loose gown. I am withered like an old 2007apple-john. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in 2008some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have 2009no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside 2011of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse. 2012The inside of a church! Company, villainous company, hath been 2013the spoil of me.
Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live long.
Why, there is it. Come, sing me a bawdy song, make me 2017merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be, 2018virtuous enough: swore little, diced not above seven times -- a week, 2019went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter -- of an hour, 2020paid money that I borrowed -- three or four times, lived well, and 2021in good compass. And now I live out of all order, out of all 2022compass.
Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out 2025of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.
Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art 2028our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop -- but 'tis in the 2029nose of thee. Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp.
Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man 2033doth of a death's head, or a memento mori. I never see thy face 2034but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple -- for 2035there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way 2036given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be 2037"By this fire that's god's angel!" But thou art altogether given 2038over, and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of 2039utter darkness. When thou rannest up Gad's Hill in the night to 2041catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been 2042an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. Oh, thou 2043art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast 2044saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking 2045with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern -- but the sack 2047that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good 2048cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintained 2049that salamander of yours with fire any time this two-and-thirty 2050years, god reward me for it.
'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
God-a-mercy! So should I be sure to be heartburnt.
3.3.9.1Enter Hostess.
Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? Do you 2057think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I have 2058enquired; so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by 2059servant. The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.
Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many a 2062hair, and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a 2063woman, go.
Who, I? No, I defy thee! God's light, I was never called so in 2065mine own house before.
Go to, I know you well enough.
No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John; I know you, 2068Sir John. You owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a 2069quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your 2070back.
Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them away to 2072bakers' wives; they have made bolters of them.
Now as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You 2075owe money here besides, Sir John: for your diet, and by-drinkings, 2076and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound.
[Indicating Bardolph.] He had his part of it, let him pay.
He? Alas he is poor, he hath nothing.
How, poor? Look upon his face. What call you rich? Let 2082them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks, I'll not pay a 2083denier. What, will you make a younker of me? Shall I not take 2084mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have 2085lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.
[To Bardolph] O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how 2088oft, that that ring was copper.
How? The prince is a Jack, a sneak-up. 'Sblood, an he 2090were here I would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so.
3.3.22.12092Enter the prince [with Peto] marching, and Falstaff meets him 2093playing upon his truncheon like a fife.
How now, lad, is the wind in that door, i'faith? Must we 2096all march?
Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
My lord, I pray you hear me.
What sayst thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband? 2100I love him well, he is an honest man.
Good my lord, hear me!
Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.
What sayst thou, Jack?
The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and 2106had my pocket picked. This house is turned bawdy-house: they pick 2107pockets.
What didst thou lose, Jack?
Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four bonds of forty 2110pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.
A trifle, some eightpenny matter.
So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say 2114so; and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed 2115man as he is, and said he would cudgel you.
What? He did not!
There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.
There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune, nor 2121no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and, for womanhood, 2122Maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, 2123you thing, go!
Say, what thing, what thing?
What thing? Why, a thing to thank god on.
I am no thing to thank god on. I would thou shouldst 2127know it, I am an honest man's wife; and setting thy knighthood 2128aside, thou art a knave to call me so.
Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say 2130otherwise.
Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?
What beast? Why an otter.
An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?
Why? She's neither fish nor flesh, a man knows not 2135where to have her.
Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man 2137knows where to have me, thou knave, thou.
Thou sayst true, hostess, and he slanders thee most 2139grossly.
So he doth you my lord, and said this other day you 2141owed him a thousand pound.
Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
A thousand pound, Hal? A million! Thy love is worth a 2144million; thou owest me thy love.
Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would 2146cudgel you.
Did I, Bardolph?
Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
I say 'tis copper, darest thou be as good as thy word now?
Why, Hal, thou knowest as thou art but man I dare, 2153but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the 2154lion's whelp.
And why not as the lion?
The king himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou 2157think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray 2158god my girdle break.
Oh, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy 2160knees! But sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor 2161honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all filled up with guts and 2162midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? Why, 2163thou whoreson, impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything 2164in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of 2165bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee long-winded 2167-- if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries 2168but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it, you will not 2169pocket up wrong. Art thou not ashamed?
Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency 2172Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the 2173days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, 2174and therefore more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my pocket?
It appears so by the story.
Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready breakfast. Love thy 2178husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt 2180find me tractable to any honest reason; thou seest I am pacified 2181still. Nay, prithee, be gone.
3.3.62.1Exit Hostess.
Oh, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee. 2188The money is paid back again.
Oh, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labor.
I am good friends with my father and may do anything.
Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do 2194it with unwashed hands too.
Do, my lord.
I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
I would it had been of horse! Where shall I find one that 2198can steal well? Oh, for a fine thief of the age of two-and-twenty or 2199thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, god be thanked for 2200these rebels: they offend none but the virtuous. I laud them, I 2201praise them.
Bardolph!
3.3.72Bardolph
My lord?
[Giving letters] Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,
3.3.74.1[Exit Bardolph.]
3.3.76.1[Exit Peto.]
3.3.82.1[Exit Prince.]
Rare words! Brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!
3.3.84.1[Exit.]
2219[4.1]
[Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.]
Well said, my noble Scot! If speaking truth
Thou art the king of honor.
4.1.12.1Enter [Messenger] with letters.
2234Hotspur
Do so, and 'tis well.
These letters come from your father.
Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?
He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.
Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick
His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.
4.1.20.1[Hotspur reads the letter]
I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?
He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
I would the state of time had first been whole
Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect
Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.
Faith, and so we should, where now remains
A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
But yet I would your father had been here.
2301Hotspur
You strain too far.
As heart can think, there is not such a word
My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!
Pray god my news be worth a welcome, lord.
No harm. What more?
2319Vernon
And further I have learned
He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
2328Vernon
All furnished, all in arms,
No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,
2357Vernon
There is more news,
That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
What may the king's whole battle reach unto?
To thirty thousand.
Forty let it be.
Talk not of dying; I am out of fear
4.1.137.1Exeunt.
2374[4.2]
2375Enter Falstaff, Bardolph.
Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of 2377sack. Our soldiers shall march through. We'll to 2378Sutton Coldfield tonight.
Will you give me money, captain?
Lay out, lay out.
This bottle makes an angel.
An if it do, take it for thy labor; an if it make twenty, 2383take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto 2384meet me at town's end.
I will, captain. Farewell.
4.2.6.1Exit.
If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. 2387I have misused the king's press damnably. I have got in 2388exchange of one hundred and fifty soldiers three hundred and odd pounds. I press me 2390none but good householders, yeomen's sons, enquire me out 2391contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the banns, 2392such a commodity of warm slaves as had as lief hear the 2393devil as a drum, such as fear the report of a caliver worse 2394than a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me none but 2395such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than 2397pins' heads, and they have bought out their services; and 2398now my whole charge consists of ensigns, corporals, 2399lieutenants, gentlemen of companies -- slaves as ragged as Lazarus in 2400the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores -- and 2401such as indeed were never soldiers, but discarded unjust 2402servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, 2403and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a long 2405peace, ten times more dishonorable-ragged than an old 2406faz'd ancient. And such have I to fill up the rooms of them as have 2407bought out their services, that you would think that I had a 2408hundred and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from 2409swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me 2410on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets 2411 and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll 2413not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and 2414the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on, 2415for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There's not a 2416shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two 2417napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a 2418herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, 2420stolen from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of 2421Daventry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every 2422hedge.
How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
What, Hal! How now, mad wag? What a devil dost thou in 2426Warwickshire? My good lord of Westmorland, I cry you mercy! 2427I thought your honor had already been at Shrewsbury.
Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and 2430you too; but my powers are there already. The king, I can tell you, 2431looks for us all. We must away all night.
Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.2434
I think to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath 2436already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are 2437these that come after?
Mine, Hal, mine.
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
Tut, tut, good enough to toss, food for powder, food 2441for powder. They'll fill a pit as well as better. Tush, man, mortal 2442men, mortal men.
Ay, but Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and 2444bare, too beggarly.
Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that, 2446and for their bareness, I am sure they never learned that of me.
No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three fingers in the ribs 2449bare. But sirrah, make haste. Percy is already in the field.
4.2.18.1 Exit.
What, is the king encamped?
He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.
Well, to the latter end of a fray
4.2.22And the beginning of a feast
4.2.23.1Exeunt.
2457[4.3]
2458Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas [and] Vernon.
We'll fight with him tonight.
2461Worcester
It may not be.
You give him then advantage.
2463Vernon
Not a whit.
Why say you so? Looks he not for supply?
So do we.
2466Hotspur
His is certain; ours is doubtful.
Good cousin, be advised. Stir not tonight.
Do not, my lord.
2469Douglas
You do not counsel well.
Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life --
Yea, or tonight.
Vernon
Content.
2480Hotspur
Tonight, say I.
Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
So are the horses of the enemy
The number of the king exceedeth ours.
I come with gracious offers from the king,
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt: and would to god
And god defend but still I should stand so,
The king is kind, and well we know the king
Tut, I came not to hear this.
2559Hotspur
Then to the point.
Shall I return this answer to the king?
Not so, Sir Walter. We'll withdraw awhile.
I would you would accept of grace and love.
And may be so we shall.
2585Blunt
Pray god you do.
4.3.114.1[Exeunt.]
2586[4.4]
2587Enter Archbishop of York [and] Sir Michael.
Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealèd brief
My good lord, I guess their tenor.
2595Archbishop
Like enough you do.
Why, my good lord, you need not fear,
No, Mortimer is not there.
But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy;
And so there is. But yet the king hath drawn
Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.
I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;
4.4.40.1Exeunt.
2631[5.1]
How bloodily the sun begins to peer
2638Prince
The southern wind
Then with the losers let it sympathize,
How now, my lord of Worcester? 'Tis not well
Hear me, my liege:
You have not sought it? How comes it, then?
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
Peace, chewet, peace!
It pleased your majesty to turn your looks
These things indeed you have articulate,
In both your armies there is many a soul
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
5.1.114.1 Exit Worcester [and Vernon].
It will not be accepted, on my life.
Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge,
5.1.120.1Exeunt [all but] Prince [and] Falstaff.
Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, 2761and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. 2763Say thy prayers, and farewell.
I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.
Why, thou owest god a death.
5.1.124.1[Exit Prince.]
'Tis not due yet -- I would be loath to pay him before his 2767day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? 2768Well, 'tis no matter, honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor 2769prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a leg? 2770No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. 2772Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What 2773is in that word "honor"? What is that "honor"? Air. A trim 2774reckoning! Who hath it? He that died a'Wednesday. Doth he feel it? 2775No. Doth he hear it? No. 'Tis insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will 2776it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. 2777Therefore I'll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And so ends 2779my catechism.
5.1.125.1Exit.
2780[5.2]
2781Enter Worcester, [and] Sir Richard Vernon.
Oh no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
'Twere best he did.
2785Worcester
Then are we all undone.
5.2.25.1 Enter [Hotspur and Douglas].
Deliver what you will; I'll say 'tis so.
2811Hotspur
My uncle is returned.
The king will bid you battle presently.
Defy him by the Lord of Westmorland.
Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
Marry, and shall, and very willingly.
5.2.33.1Exit Douglas.
There is no seeming mercy in the king.
Did you beg any? God forbid!
I told him gently of our grievances,
5.2.40.1Enter Douglas.
Arm, gentlemen, to arms! For I have thrown
The Prince of Wales stepped forth before the king
Oh, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
No, by my soul, I never in my life
Cousin, I think thou art enamourèd
5.2.78.1Enter a Messenger.
My lord, here are letters for you.
I cannot read them now,
My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.
I thank him that he cuts me from my tale,
2889.1[5.3]
The king enters with his 2890power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter Douglas, and Sir Walter Blunt [disguised as the king].
What is thy name, that in battle thus thou crossest me?
Know then my name is Douglas,
They tell thee true.
The Lord of Stafford dear today hath bought
I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot,
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
All's done, all's won: here breathless lies the king.
Where?
Here.
This Douglas? No, I know this face full well.
[To the corpse] Ah fool, go with thy soul, whither it goes!
The king hath many marching in his coats.
Now by my sword, I will kill all his coats.
Hotspur
2921Up and away!
Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear the 2925shot here. Here's no scoring but upon the pate. Soft! Who are you? 2926Sir Walter Blunt. There's honor for you. Here's no vanity. I am as 2927hot as molten lead, and as heavy too. God keep lead out of me! 2928I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my 2929ragamuffins where they are peppered; there's not three of my 2931hundred and fifty left alive, and they are for the town's end, to beg during 2932life. But who comes here?
5.3.30.1Enter the prince.
What, stands thou idle here? Lend me thy sword.
5.3.35Lend me thy sword.
O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory 2939never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. 2940I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.
He is indeed, and living to kill thee.
Nay, before god, Hal, if Percy be alive thou gets not my 2944sword; but take my pistol if thou wilt.
Give it me. What, is it in the case?
Ay, Hal, 'tis hot, 'tis hot. There's that will sack a city.
What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in 2951my way, so. If he do not, if I come in his willingly, let him make 2952a carbonado of me. I like not such grinning honor as Sir 2953Walter hath. Give me life, which if I can save, so; if not, honor comes 2954unlooked for, and there's an 2955end.
5.3.42.1 [Exit with Blunt's body.]
2956[5.4]
2957Alarum. Excursions. Enter the king, the prince, Lord John 2958of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland.
I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleed'st too much.
Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
I beseech your majesty, make up,
I will do so. My lord of Westmorland,
Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.
Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help,
We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmorland,
5.4.15.1 [Exit Lancaster and Westmorland.]
By god, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;
I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
Oh, this boy lends mettle to us all!
5.4.23.1Exit [Prince].
5.4.23.2[Enter Douglas.]
Another king! They grow like Hydra's heads.
The king himself, who, Douglas, grieves at heart
I fear thou art another counterfeit;
Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Stay and breathe awhile.
O god, they did me too much injury
Make up to Clifton; I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
5.4.57.1Exit King.
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
My name is Harry Percy.
3024Prince
Why then I see
5.4.61A very valiant rebel of the name.
Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
I'll make it greater ere I part from thee,
I can no longer brook thy vanities.
Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find no boy's 3039play here, I can tell you.
5.4.74.13040Enter Douglas, he fighteth with Falstaff, [who] falls down 3041as if he were dead. [Exit Douglas.]
5.4.74.2The prince killeth Percy.
O Harry, thou hast robbed me of my youth.
5.4.84.1[He dies.]
For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart.
5.4.99.1He spieth Falstaff on the ground.
5.4.108.1Exit.
Embowelled? If thou embowel me today, I'll give you leave 3078to powder me, and eat me too, tomorrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time 3079to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me, scot and lot 3080too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit. To die is to be a 3081counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not 3082the life of a man. But to counterfeit dying when a man thereby liveth 3083is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. 3085The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part 3086I have saved my life. Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder 3087Percy, though he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? 3088By my faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit. 3089Therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll swear I killed him. Why 3090may not he rise as well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and 3091nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, [stabbing him] with a new wound in your thigh, 3092come you along with me.
Come, brother John. Full bravely hast thou fleshed
But soft; whom have we here?
I did, I saw him dead,
No, that's certain: I am not a double man. But if I be 3105not Jack Falstaff, then am I a jack.
5.4.119.1[He puts down the body.]
5.4.120There is Percy. If your 3106father will do me any honor, so; if not, let him kill the next 3107Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can 3108assure you.
Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead.
Didst thou? Lord, lord, how this world is given to 3111lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath, and so was 3112he; but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by 3113Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believed, so; if not, let them 3114that should reward valor bear the sin upon their own 3115heads. I'll take it upon my death I gave him this wound in the 3116thigh. If the man were alive and would deny it, zounds, I would 3117make him eat a piece of my sword.
This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
5.4.130.1Exeunt [Prince and Lancaster].
I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, 3129god reward him. If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll 3130purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman 3131should do.
5.4.131.1 Exit [with Hotspur's body].
3132[5.5]
3133The Trumpets sound. Enter the king, the Prince of Wales, Lord 3134John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland, with Worcester 3136and Vernon prisoners.
Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
What I have done my safety urged me to,
Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too.
5.5.15.1[Worcester and Vernon exit, guarded]
The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
3162King
With all my heart.
Then, brother John of Lancaster,
I thank your grace for this high courtesy,
Then this remains, that we divide our power.
5.5.44.1Exeunt.