0.1The History of Henry the Fourth, Part One

5So shaken as we are, so wan with care,

1.1.26Find we a time for frighted peace to pant

1.1.37And breathe short-winded accents of new broils

1.1.48To be commenced in strands afar remote.

1.1.59No more the thirsty entrance of this soil

1.1.610Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood,

1.1.711No more shall trenching war channel her fields,

1.1.812Nor bruise her flow'rets with the armèd hoofs

1.1.913Of hostile paces. Those opposèd eyes,

1.1.1014Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,

1.1.1115All of one nature, of one substance bred,

1.1.1216Did lately meet in the intestine shock

1.1.1317And furious close of civil butchery,

1.1.1418Shall now in mutual well-beseeming ranks

1.1.1519March all one way, and be no more opposed

1.1.1620Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies.

1.1.1721The edge of war, like an ill-sheathèd knife,

1.1.1822No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,

1.1.1923As far as to the sepulcher of Christ --

1.1.2024Whose soldier now, under whose blessèd cross

1.1.2125We are impressèd and engaged to fight --

1.1.2226Forthwith a power of English shall we levy,

1.1.2327Whose arms were molded in their mother's womb

1.1.2428To chase these pagans in those holy fields

1.1.2529Over whose acres walked those blessèd feet

1.1.2630Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed,

1.1.2731For our advantage, on the bitter cross.

1.1.2832But this our purpose now is twelve month old,

1.1.2933And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go.

1.1.3034Therefor we meet not now. Then let me hear

1.1.3135Of you, my gentle cousin Westmorland,

1.1.3236What yesternight our Council did decree

1.1.3337In forwarding this dear expedience.

My liege, this haste was hot in question,

1.1.3539And many limits of the charge set down

1.1.3640But yesternight, when all athwart there came

1.1.3741A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news,

1.1.3842Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer,

1.1.3943Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight

1.1.4044Against the irregular and wild Glendower,

1.1.4145Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,

1.1.4246A thousand of his people butcherèd,

1.1.4347Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,

1.1.4448Such beastly shameless transformation

1.1.4549By those Welshwomen done as may not be

1.1.4650Without much shame retold or spoken of.

It seems then that the tidings of this broil

1.1.4852Brake off our business for the holy land.

This matched with other did, my gracious lord,

1.1.5054For more uneven and unwelcome news

1.1.5155Came from the north, and thus it did import:

1.1.5256On Holy-rood day the gallant Hotspur there --

1.1.5357Young Harry Percy -- and brave Archibald,

1.1.5458That ever valiant and approvèd Scot,

1.1.5559At Holmedon met, where they did spend

1.1.5660A sad and bloody hour,

1.1.5761As by discharge of their artillery,

1.1.5862And shape of likelihood the news was told;

1.1.5963For he that brought them in the very heat

1.1.6064And pride of their contention did take horse

1.1.6165Uncertain of the issue any way.

Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,

1.1.6367Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,

1.1.6468Stained with the variation of each soil

1.1.6569Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours,

1.1.6670And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news:

1.1.6771The Earl of Douglas is discomfited;

1.1.6872Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,

1.1.6973Balked in their own blood did Sir Walter see

1.1.7074On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners Hotspur took

1.1.7175Mordake, Earl of Fife and eldest son

1.1.7276To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Athol,

1.1.7377Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.

1.1.7478And is not this an honorable spoil?

1.1.7579A gallant prize? Ha, cousin, is it not?

In faith it is -- a conquest for a prince to boast of.

Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin

1.1.7882In envy, that my lord Northumberland

1.1.7983Should be the father to so blest a son --

1.1.8084A son who is the theme of honor's tongue,

1.1.8185Amongst a grove the very straightest plant,

1.1.8286Who is sweet fortune's minion and her pride --

1.1.8387Whilst I by looking on the praise of him

1.1.8488See riot and dishonor stain the brow

1.1.8589Of my young Harry. Oh, that it could be proved

1.1.8690That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged

1.1.8791In cradle clothes our children where they lay,

1.1.8892And called mine Percy, his Plantagenet!

1.1.8993Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.

1.1.9094But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,

1.1.9195Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners

1.1.9296Which he in this adventure hath surprised

1.1.9397To his own use he keeps, and sends me word

1.1.9498I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

This is his uncle's teaching. This is Worcester,

1.1.96100Malevolent to you in all aspects,

1.1.97101Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up

1.1.98102The crest of youth against your dignity.

But I have sent for him to answer this;

1.1.100104And for this cause awhile we must neglect

1.1.101105Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

1.1.102106Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we

1.1.103107Will hold at Windsor. So inform the lords.

1.1.104108But come yourself with speed to us again,

1.1.105109For more is to be said and to be done,

1.1.106110Than out of anger can be utterèd.

I will my liege.

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.

1.2.34214Poins! 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.

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.

I know you all, and will a while uphold

1.2.64297The unyoked humor of your idleness.

1.2.65298Yet herein will I imitate the sun,

1.2.66299Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

1.2.67300To smother up his beauty from the world,

1.2.68301That when he please again to be himself,

1.2.69302Being wanted he may be more wondered at

1.2.70303By breaking through the foul and ugly mists

1.2.71304Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

1.2.72305If all the year were playing holidays,

1.2.73306To sport would be as tedious as to work;

1.2.74307But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,

1.2.75308And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

1.2.76309So when this loose behaviour I throw off

1.2.77310And pay the debt I never promisèd,

1.2.78311By how much better than my word I am,

1.2.79312By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;

1.2.80313And like bright metal on a sullen ground,

1.2.81314My reformation, glitt'ring o'er my fault,

1.2.82315Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes

1.2.83316Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

1.2.84317I'll so offend to make offense a skill,

1.2.85318Redeeming time when men think least I will.

My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

1.3.2323Unapt to stir at these indignities,

1.3.3324And you have found me, for accordingly

1.3.4325You tread upon my patience. But be sure

1.3.5326I will from henceforth rather be myself,

1.3.6327Mighty and to be feared, than my condition,

1.3.7328Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

1.3.8329And therefore lost that title of respect

1.3.9330Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.

Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves

1.3.11332The scourge of greatness to be used on it,

1.3.12333And that same greatness too, which our own hands

1.3.13334Have holp to make so portly.

My lord --

Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see

1.3.16337Danger and disobedience in thine eye.

1.3.17338O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,

1.3.18339And majesty might never yet endure

1.3.19340The moody frontier of a servant brow.

1.3.20341You have good leave to leave us. When we need

1.3.21342Your use and counsel we shall send for you.

1.3.22343[To Northumberland] You were about to speak.

[To Northumberland] You were about to speak. Yea my good lord.

1.3.23345Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,

1.3.24346Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

1.3.25347Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

1.3.26348As is delivered to your majesty.

1.3.27349Either envy, therefore, or misprision

1.3.28350Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

My liege, I did deny no prisoners.

1.3.30352But I remember when the fight was done,

1.3.31353When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,

1.3.32354Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

1.3.33355Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed,

1.3.34356Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new-reaped,

1.3.35357Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home.

1.3.36358He was perfumèd like a milliner,

1.3.37359And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

1.3.38360A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

1.3.39361He gave his nose and took't away again,

1.3.40362Who therewith angry, when it next came there

1.3.41363Took it in snuff, and still he smiled and talked;

1.3.42364And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

1.3.43365He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,

1.3.44366To bring a slovenly unhandsome corpse

1.3.45367Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

1.3.46368With many holiday and lady terms

1.3.47369He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded

1.3.48370My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.

1.3.49371I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

1.3.50372To be so pestered with a popinjay,

1.3.51373Out of my grief and my impatience

1.3.52374Answered neglectingly, I know not what,

1.3.53375He should, or he should not, for he made me mad

1.3.54376To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,

1.3.55377And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman

1.3.56378Of guns, and drums, and wounds, god save the mark!

1.3.57379And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth

1.3.58380Was parmacity, for an inward bruise,

1.3.59381And that it was great pity, so it was,

1.3.60382This villainous saltpetre should be digged

1.3.61383Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

1.3.62384Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed

1.3.63385So cowardly, and but for these vile guns

1.3.64386He would himself have been a soldier.

1.3.65387This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,

1.3.66388I answered indirectly, as I said,

1.3.67389And I beseech you, let not his report

1.3.68390Come current for an accusation

1.3.69391Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

The circumstance considered, good my lord,

1.3.71393Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said

1.3.72394To such a person, and in such a place,

1.3.73395At such a time, with all the rest retold,

1.3.74396May reasonably die, and never rise

1.3.75397To do him wrong, or any way impeach

1.3.76398What then he said, so he unsay it now.

Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,

1.3.78400But with proviso and exception

1.3.79401That we at our own charge shall ransom straight

1.3.80402His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer,

1.3.81403Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betrayed

1.3.82404The lives of those that he did lead to fight

1.3.83405Against that great magician, damned Glendower,

1.3.84406Whose daughter, as we hear, that Earl of March

1.3.85407Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then

1.3.86408Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?

1.3.87409Shall we buy treason, and indent with fears

1.3.88410When they have lost and forfeited themselves?

1.3.89411No, on the barren mountains let him starve,

1.3.90412For I shall never hold that man my friend

1.3.91413Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost

1.3.92414To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

Revolted Mortimer!

1.3.94416He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

1.3.95417But by the chance of war. To prove that true

1.3.96418Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,

1.3.97419Those mouthèd wounds, which valiantly he took

1.3.98420When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank

1.3.99421In single opposition, hand to hand,

1.3.100422He did confound the best part of an hour

1.3.101423In changing hardiment with great Glendower.

1.3.102424Three times they breathed, and three times did they drink,

1.3.103425Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood,

1.3.104426Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

1.3.105427Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds

1.3.106428And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,

1.3.107429Bloodstainèd with these valiant combatants.

1.3.108430Never did bare and rotten policy

1.3.109431Color her working with such deadly wounds,

1.3.110432Nor never could the noble Mortimer

1.3.111433Receive so many, and all willingly.

1.3.112434Then let not him be slandered with revolt.

Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him.

1.3.114436He never did encounter with Glendower.

1.3.115437I tell thee, he durst as well have met the devil alone

1.3.116438As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

1.3.117439Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth

1.3.118440Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.

1.3.119441Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,

1.3.120442Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

1.3.121443As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland

1.3.122444We license your departure with your son.

1.3.123445Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.

An if the devil come and roar for them

1.3.125447I will not send them. I will after straight

1.3.126448And tell him so, for I will ease my heart,

1.3.127449Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

What, drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile.

1.3.129451Here comes your uncle.

Here comes your uncle. Speak of Mortimer?

1.3.130453Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul

1.3.131454Want mercy if I do not join with him.

1.3.132455Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,

1.3.133456And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,

1.3.134457But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer

1.3.135458As high in the air as this unthankful king,

1.3.136459As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.

Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

Who struck this heat up after I was gone?

He will forsooth have all my prisoners,

1.3.140463And when I urged the ransom once again

1.3.141464Of my wife's brother, then his cheek looked pale,

1.3.142465And on my face he turned an eye of death,

1.3.143466Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

I cannot blame him: was not he proclaimed

1.3.145468By Richard, that dead is, the next of blood?

He was; I heard the proclamation.

1.3.147470And then it was when the unhappy king --

1.3.148471Whose wrongs in us god pardon! -- did set forth

1.3.149472Upon his Irish expedition,

1.3.150473From whence he, intercepted, did return

1.3.151474To be deposed, and shortly murderèd.

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

1.3.153476Live scandalized and foully spoken of.

But soft, I pray you, did King Richard then

1.3.155478Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer

1.3.156479Heir to the crown?

Heir to the crown? He did, myself did hear it.

Nay then, I cannot blame his cousin king

1.3.158482That wished him on the barren mountains starve.

1.3.159483But shall it be that you that set the crown

1.3.160484Upon the head of this forgetful man,

1.3.161485And for his sake wear the detested blot

1.3.162486Of murderous subornation, shall it be

1.3.163487That you a world of curses undergo,

1.3.164488Being the agents or base second means,

1.3.165489The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?

1.3.166490Oh, pardon me that I descend so low

1.3.167491To show the line and the predicament

1.3.168492Wherein you range under this subtle king!

1.3.169493Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,

1.3.170494Or fill up chronicles in time to come,

1.3.171495That men of your nobility and power

1.3.172496Did gage them both in an unjust behalf --

1.3.173497As both of you, god pardon it, have done --

1.3.174498To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,

1.3.175499And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?

1.3.176500And shall it in more shame be further spoken

1.3.177501That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off

1.3.178502By him for whom these shames ye underwent?

1.3.179503No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem

1.3.180504Your banished honors, and restore yourselves

1.3.181505Into the good thoughts of the world again,

1.3.182506Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt

1.3.183507Of this proud king, who studies day and night

1.3.184508To answer all the debt he owes to you

1.3.185509Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.

1.3.186510Therefore, I say --

Therefore, I say -- Peace, cousin, say no more.

1.3.187512And now I will unclasp a secret book,

1.3.188513And to your quick-conceiving discontents

1.3.189514I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,

1.3.190515As full of peril and adventurous spirit

1.3.191516As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud

1.3.192517On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim.

1.3.194519Send danger from the east unto the west,

1.3.195520So honor cross it from the north to south,

1.3.196521And let them grapple. Oh, the blood more stirs

1.3.197522To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

Imagination of some great exploit

1.3.199524Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap

1.3.201526To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon,

1.3.202527Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

1.3.203528Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,

1.3.204529And pluck up drownèd honor by the locks,

1.3.205530So he that doth redeem her thence might wear,

1.3.206531Without co-rival, all her dignities.

1.3.207532But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

He apprehends a world of figures here,

1.3.209534But not the form of what he should attend.

1.3.210535Good cousin, give me audience for a while.

I cry you mercy.

I cry you mercy. Those same noble Scots

1.3.212539That are your prisoners --

That are your prisoners -- I'll keep them all;

1.3.213541By god, he shall not have a Scot of them,

1.3.214542No, if a Scot would save his soul he shall not.

1.3.215543I'll keep them, by this hand.

I'll keep them, by this hand. You start away,

1.3.216545And lend no ear unto my purposes.

1.3.217546Those prisoners you shall keep.

Those prisoners you shall keep. Nay, I will; that's flat.

1.3.218548He said he would not ransom Mortimer,

1.3.219549Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer;

1.3.220550But I will find him when he lies asleep,

1.3.221551And in his ear I'll holla "Mortimer!"

1.3.222552Nay, I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak

1.3.223553Nothing but "Mortimer," and give it him

1.3.224554To keep his anger still in motion.

Hear you, cousin, a word.

All studies here I solemnly defy,

1.3.227557Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke.

1.3.228558And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales.

1.3.229559But that I think his father loves him not

1.3.230560And would be glad he met with some mischance,

1.3.231561I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale.

Farewell, kinsman. I'll talk to you

1.3.233563When you are better tempered to attend.

Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool

1.3.235565Art thou to break into this woman's mood

1.3.236566Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!

Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with rods,

1.3.238568Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear

1.3.239569Of this vile politician Bolingbroke.

1.3.240570In Richard's time -- what d'ye call the place?

1.3.241571A plague upon't, it is in Gloucestershire.

1.3.242572'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,

1.3.243573His uncle York -- where I first bowed my knee

1.3.244574Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke --

1.3.245575'Sblood, when you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

At Berkeley castle.

You say true.

1.3.248578Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

1.3.249579This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!

1.3.250580"Look when his infant fortune came to age,"

1.3.251581And "gentle Harry Percy," and "kind cousin."

1.3.252582Oh, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me,

1.3.253583Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.

Nay, if you have not, to it again.

1.3.255585We will stay your leisure.

We will stay your leisure. I have done, i'faith.

Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.

1.3.257588Deliver them up without their ransom straight;

1.3.258589And make the Douglas' son your only mean

1.3.259590For powers in Scotland, which for divers reasons

1.3.260591Which I shall send you written, be assured

1.3.261592Will easily be granted. [To Northumberland] You, my lord,

1.3.262593Your son in Scotland being thus employed,

1.3.263594Shall secretly into the bosom creep

1.3.264595Of that same noble prelate well-beloved,

1.3.265596The archbishop.

Of York, is't not?

True, who bears hard

1.3.268599His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scrope.

1.3.269600I speak not this in estimation,

1.3.270601As what I think might be, but what I know

1.3.271602Is ruminated, plotted, and set down,

1.3.272603And only stays but to behold the face

1.3.273604Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

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 --

1.3.277609And then the power of Scotland and of York

1.3.278610To join with Mortimer, ha?

To join with Mortimer, ha? And so they shall.

In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed.

And 'tis no little reason bids us speed

1.3.281614To save our heads by raising of a head;

1.3.282615For, bear ourselves as even as we can,

1.3.283616The king will always think him in our debt,

1.3.284617And think we think ourselves unsatisfied

1.3.285618Till he hath found a time to pay us home.

1.3.286619And see already how he doth begin

1.3.287620To make us strangers to his looks of love.

He does, he does. We'll be revenged on him.

Cousin, farewell. No further go in this

1.3.290623Than I by letters shall direct your course.

1.3.291624When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,

1.3.292625I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer,

1.3.293626Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,

1.3.294627As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,

1.3.295628To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,

1.3.296629Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust.

Uncle, adieu. Oh, let the hours be short

1.3.299632Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!

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.

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.

Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff's horse, 737and he frets like a gummed velvet.

Stand close.

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.

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

2.2.8764Whew! A plague upon you all!

2.2.9Give me my horse, you rogues; 765give me my horse, and be hanged!

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!

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!

"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.

2.3.2884How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours.

O my good lord, why are you thus alone?

2.3.4886For what offense have I this fortnight been

2.3.5887A banished woman from my Harry's bed?

2.3.6888Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee

2.3.7889Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?

2.3.8890Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth?

2.3.9891And start so often when thou sit'st alone?

2.3.10892Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks,

2.3.11893And given my treasures and my rights of thee

2.3.12894To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy?

2.3.13895In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched,

2.3.14896And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,

2.3.15897Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,

2.3.16898Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talked

2.3.17899Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,

2.3.18900Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,

2.3.19901Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,

2.3.20902Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,

2.3.21903And all the currents of a heady fight.

2.3.22904Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,

2.3.23905And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,

2.3.24906That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow

2.3.25907Like bubbles in a late-disturbèd stream;

2.3.26908And in thy face strange motions have appeared,

2.3.27909Such as we see when men restrain their breath

2.3.28910On some great sudden heft. Oh, what portents are these?

2.3.29911Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,

2.3.30912And I must know it, else he loves me not.

What ho!

What ho! 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.

It is, my lord. That roan shall be my throne.

2.3.37Well, I will back him straight. 920O Esperance!

2.3.38Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

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!

2.3.44A weasel hath not such a deal 927of spleen

2.3.45As you are tossed with. In faith,

2.3.46I'll know your business, 928Harry, that I will.

2.3.47I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir

2.3.48About 929his title, and hath sent for you

2.3.49To line his enterprise; but if you go --

So far afoot? I shall be weary, love.

Come, come, you paraquito, answer me

2.3.52Directly unto 933this question that I ask.

2.3.53In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,

2.3.54934An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

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

2.3.56936I care not for thee, Kate. This is no world

2.3.57937To play with mammets and to tilt with lips.

2.3.58938We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns,

2.3.59939And pass them current, too. God's me, my horse!

2.3.60940What sayst thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have with me?

Do you not love me? Do you not indeed?

2.3.62942Well, do not then, for since you love me not

2.3.63943I will not love myself. Do you not love me?

2.3.64944Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

Come, wilt thou see me ride?

2.3.66946And when I am a-horseback, I will swear

2.3.67947I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate.

2.3.68948I must not have you henceforth question me

2.3.69949Whither I go, nor reason whereabout.

2.3.70950Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,

2.3.71951This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.

2.3.72952I know you wise, but yet no farther wise

2.3.73953Than Harry Percy's wife; constant you are,

2.3.74954But yet a woman; and for secrecy

2.3.75955No lady closer, for I well believe

2.3.76956Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.

2.3.77957And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

How, so far?

Not an inch further. But hark you Kate,

2.3.80960Whither I go, thither shall you go too.

2.3.81961Today will I set forth, tomorrow you.

2.3.82962Will this content you, Kate?

It must of force.

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.

[Within] Francis!

Thou art perfect.

[Within] Francis!

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?

What, standest thou still, and hearest such a calling? Look 1045to the guests within.

2.4.36My lord, old Sir John with half a dozen 1046more are at the door. Shall I let them in?

Let them alone a while, and then open the door.

2.4.38Poins!

Anon, anon sir!

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.

2.4.43What's o'clock 1060Francis?

Anon, anon, sir.

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?

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.

2.4.581115A plague of all cowards, still say I.

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.

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.

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.

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,

2.4.1551353For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.

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.

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.

Call in the sheriff.

Now Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?

First pardon me my lord. A hue and cry

2.4.188Hath followed 1472certain men unto this house.

What men?

One of them is well known, my gracious lord,

2.4.191A gross 1475fat man.

As fat as butter.

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

2.4.1941478For I myself at this time have employed him.

2.4.1951479And, Sheriff, I will engage my word to thee

2.4.1961480That I will by tomorrow dinner-time

2.4.1971481Send him to answer thee, or any man,

2.4.1981482For anything he shall be charged withal.

2.4.1991483And so let me entreat you leave the house.

I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen

2.4.2011485Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.

It may be so. If he have robbed these men,

2.4.2031487He shall be answerable. And so, farewell.

Good night, my noble lord.

I think it is good morrow, is it not?

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

This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go call 1493him forth.

Falstaff!

2.4.209Fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting 1495like a horse.

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.

2.4.2151504Item: sauce. 4d.

2.4.2161505Item: sack, two gallons. 5s. 8d.

2.4.2171506Item: anchovies and sack after supper. 2s. 6d.

2.4.2181507Item: bread. ob.

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.

These promises are fair, the parties sure,

3.1.21523And our induction full of prosperous hope.

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;

3.1.51529Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin Hotspur;

3.1.61530For by that name as oft as Lancaster doth speak of you,

3.1.71531His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh

3.1.81532He wisheth you in heaven.

He wisheth you in heaven. And you in hell,

3.1.91534As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

I cannot blame him. At my nativity

3.1.111536The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

3.1.121537Of burning cressets, and at my birth

3.1.131538The frame and huge foundation of the earth

3.1.141539Shaked like a coward.

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,

3.1.181545If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

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

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

3.1.211550And not in fear of your nativity.

3.1.221551Diseasèd nature oftentimes breaks forth

3.1.231552In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth

3.1.241553Is with a kind of colic pinched and vexed

3.1.251554By the imprisoning of unruly wind

3.1.261555Within her womb, which for enlargement striving

3.1.271556Shakes the old beldam earth, and topples down

3.1.281557Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth

3.1.291558Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,

3.1.301559In passion shook.

In passion shook. Cousin, of many men

3.1.331561I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave

3.1.341562To tell you once again that at my birth

3.1.351563The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

3.1.361564The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds

3.1.371565Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.

3.1.381566These signs have marked me extraordinary,

3.1.391567And all the courses of my life do show

3.1.401568I am not in the roll of common men.

3.1.411569Where is he living, clipped in with the sea

3.1.421570That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,

3.1.431571Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?

3.1.441572And bring him out that is but woman's son

3.1.451573Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,

3.1.461574And hold me pace in deep experiments.

I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.

3.1.481576I'll to dinner.

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,

3.1.521580But will they come when you do call for them?

Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.

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

3.1.551584By telling truth: "Tell truth, and shame the devil."

3.1.561585If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,

3.1.571586And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.

3.1.581587Oh, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil.

Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head

3.1.611591Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye

3.1.621592And sandy-bottomed Severn have I sent him

3.1.631593Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

3.1.651596How scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

Come, here is the map. Shall we divide our right,

3.1.671599According to our threefold order ta'en?

The Archdeacon hath divided it

3.1.691601Into three limits very equally:

3.1.701602England from Trent and Severn hitherto

3.1.711603By south and east is to my part assigned;

3.1.721604All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore

3.1.731605And all the fertile land within that bound,

3.1.741606To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you

3.1.751607The remnant northward lying off from Trent.

3.1.761608And our indentures tripartite are drawn,

3.1.771609Which, being sealèd interchangeably --

3.1.781610A business that this night may execute --

3.1.791611Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I

3.1.801612And my good lord of Worcester will set forth

3.1.811613To meet your father and the Scottish power,

3.1.821614As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

3.1.831615My father Glendower is not ready yet,

3.1.841616Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.

3.1.851617[To Glendower] Within that space you may have drawn together

3.1.861618Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen.

A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;

3.1.881620And in my conduct shall your ladies come,

3.1.891621From whom you now must steal and take no leave;

3.1.901622For there will be a world of water shed

3.1.911623Upon the parting of your wives and you.

Methinks my moiety north from Burton here

3.1.931625In quantity equals not one of yours.

3.1.941626See how this river comes me cranking in,

3.1.951627And cuts me from the best of all my land

3.1.961628A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle, out.

3.1.971629I'll have the current in this place dammed up,

3.1.981630And here the smug and silver Trent shall run

3.1.991631In a new channel fair and evenly.

3.1.1001632It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

3.1.1011633To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

Not wind? It shall, it must -- you see it doth.

Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs me up

3.1.1041636With like advantage on the other side,

3.1.1051637Gelding the opposèd continent as much

3.1.1061638As on the other side it takes from you.

Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,

3.1.1081640And on this north side win this cape of land,

3.1.1091641And then he runs straight and even.

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,

3.1.1181651For I was trained up in the English court,

3.1.1191652Where, being but young, I framèd to the harp

3.1.1201653Many an English ditty lovely well,

3.1.1211654And gave the tongue a helpful ornament --

3.1.1221655A virtue that was never seen in you.

Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.

3.1.1241657I had rather be a kitten and cry "mew"

3.1.1251658Than one of these same meter ballad-mongers.

3.1.1261659I had rather hear a brazen can'stick turned,

3.1.1271660Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree,

3.1.1281661And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

3.1.1291662Nothing so much as mincing poetry.

3.1.1301663'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

Come, you shall have Trent turned.

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

3.1.1331666To any well-deserving friend;

3.1.1341667But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

3.1.1351668I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

3.1.1361669Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?

The moon shines fair. You may away by night.

3.1.1381672I'll haste the writer, and withal

3.1.1391673Break with your wives of your departure hence.

3.1.1401674I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

3.1.1411675So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!

I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me

3.1.1441679With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,

3.1.1451680Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

3.1.1461681And of a dragon and a finless fish,

3.1.1471682A clip-winged griffin and a molten raven,

3.1.1481683A couching lion and a ramping cat,

3.1.1491684And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff

3.1.1501685As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,

3.1.1511686He held me last night at the least nine hours

3.1.1521687In reckoning up the several devils' names

3.1.1531688That were his lackeys. I cried "Hum," and "Well, go to,"

3.1.1541690But marked him not a word. Oh, he is as tedious

3.1.1551691As a tired horse, a railing wife,

3.1.1561692Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live

3.1.1571693With cheese and garlic, in a windmill, far,

3.1.1581694Than feed on cates and have him talk to me

3.1.1591695In any summer house in Christendom.

In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,

3.1.1611697Exceedingly well read, and profited

3.1.1621698In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,

3.1.1631699And wondrous affable, and as bountiful

3.1.1641700As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?

3.1.1651702He holds your temper in a high respect,

3.1.1661703And curbs himself even of his natural scope

3.1.1671704When you come 'cross his humor, faith, he does.

3.1.1681705I warrant you, that man is not alive

3.1.1691706Might so have tempted him as you have done

3.1.1701707Without the taste of danger and reproof.

3.1.1711708But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.

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

3.1.1731710And since your coming hither have done enough

3.1.1741711To put him quite besides his patience.

3.1.1751712You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.

3.1.1761713Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood --

3.1.1771714And that's the dearest grace it renders you --

3.1.1781715Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,

3.1.1791716Defect of manners, want of government,

3.1.1801717Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,

3.1.1811718The least of which, haunting a nobleman,

3.1.1821719Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain

3.1.1831720Upon the beauty of all parts besides,

3.1.1841721Beguiling them of commendation.

Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed!

3.1.1861724Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

This is the deadly spite that angers me:

3.1.1881727My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

My daughter weeps; she'll not part with you.

3.1.1901729She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.

Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy

3.1.1921731Shall follow in your conduct speedily

She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,

3.1.1941736One that no persuasion can do good upon.

I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh

3.1.1961739Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens

3.1.1971740I am too perfect in, and but for shame

3.1.1981741In such a parley should I answer thee.

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,

3.1.2001744And that's a feeling disputation;

3.1.2011745But I will never be a truant, love,

3.1.2021746Till I have learnt thy language, for thy tongue

3.1.2031747Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penned,

3.1.2041748Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower

3.1.2051749With ravishing division, to her lute.

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

3.1.2091755And rest your gentle head upon her lap,

3.1.2101756And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,

3.1.2111757And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,

3.1.2121758Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,

3.1.2131759Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep

3.1.2141760As is the difference betwixt day and night

3.1.2151761The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team

3.1.2161762Begins his golden progress in the east.

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

3.1.2181764By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.

Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you

3.1.2201767Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,

3.1.2211768And straight they shall be here. Sit and attend.

Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.

3.1.2231770Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

Go, ye giddy goose!

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;

3.1.2261775And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.

3.1.2271776By'r Lady, he is a good musician.

Then should you be nothing but musical,

3.1.2291778For you are altogether governed by humors.

3.1.2301779Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

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!

3.1.2431794Heart, you swear like a comfit-maker's wife:

3.1.2441795"Not you, in good sooth!" and "As true as I live!"

3.1.2451796And "As god shall mend me!" and "As sure as day!":

3.1.2461797And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths

3.1.2471798As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.

3.1.2481799Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,

3.1.2491800A good mouth-filling oath, and leave "in sooth"

3.1.2501801And such protest of pepper gingerbread

3.1.2511802To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens.

3.1.2521803Come sing.

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.

Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow

3.1.2561810As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.

3.1.2571811By this our book is drawn. We'll but seal,

3.1.2581812And then to horse immediately.

With all my heart.

Lords, give us leave. The Prince of Wales and I

3.2.21818Must have some private conference; but be near at hand,

3.2.31820For we shall presently have need of you.

3.2.41822I know not whether god will have it so

3.2.51823For some displeasing service I have done,

3.2.61824That in his secret doom out of my blood

3.2.71825He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me,

3.2.81826But thou dost in thy passages of life

3.2.91827Make me believe that thou art only marked

3.2.101828For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven

3.2.111829To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,

3.2.121830Could such inordinate and low desires,

3.2.131831Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,

3.2.141832Such barren pleasures, rude society,

3.2.151833As thou art matched withal and grafted to,

3.2.161834Accompany the greatness of thy blood,

3.2.171835And hold their level with thy princely heart?

So please your majesty, I would I could

3.2.191837Quit all offenses with as clear excuse

3.2.201838As well as I am doubtless I can purge

3.2.211839Myself of many I am charged withal.

3.2.221840Yet such extenuation let me beg

3.2.231841As, in reproof of many tales devised --

3.2.241842Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear --

3.2.251843By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers,

3.2.261844I may, for some things true wherein my youth

3.2.271845Hath faulty wandered and irregular,

3.2.281846Find pardon on my true submission.

God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,

3.2.301849At thy affections, which do hold a wing

3.2.311850Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.

3.2.321851Thy place in Council thou hast rudely lost,

3.2.331852Which by thy younger brother is supplied,

3.2.341853And art almost an alien to the hearts

3.2.351854Of all the court and princes of my blood.

3.2.361855The hope and expectation of thy time

3.2.371856Is ruined, and the soul of every man

3.2.381857Prophetically do forethink thy fall.

3.2.391858Had I so lavish of my presence been,

3.2.401859So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,

3.2.411860So stale and cheap to vulgar company,

3.2.421861Opinion, that did help me to the crown,

3.2.431862Had still kept loyal to possession,

3.2.441863And left me in reputeless banishment,

3.2.451864A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.

3.2.461865By being seldom seen, I could not stir

3.2.471866But, like a comet, I was wondered at,

3.2.481867That men would tell their children "This is he!"

3.2.491868Others would say "Where, which is Bolingbroke?"

3.2.501869And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,

3.2.511870And dressed myself in such humility

3.2.521871That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,

3.2.531872Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,

3.2.541873Even in the presence of the crownèd king.

3.2.551874Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,

3.2.561875My presence, like a robe pontifical,

3.2.571876Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state,

3.2.581877Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast,

3.2.591878And won by rareness such solemnity.

3.2.601879The skipping king, he ambled up and down

3.2.611880With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,

3.2.621881Soon kindled and soon burnt, carded his state,

3.2.631882Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools,

3.2.641883Had his great name profanèd with their scorns,

3.2.651884And gave his countenance, against his name,

3.2.661885To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push

3.2.671886Of every beardless vain comparative;

3.2.681887Grew a companion to the common streets,

3.2.691888Enfeoffed himself to popularity,

3.2.701889That, being daily swallowed by men's eyes,

3.2.711890They surfeited with honey, and began

3.2.721891To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little

3.2.731892More than a little is by much too much.

3.2.741893So when he had occasion to be seen,

3.2.751894He was but as the cuckoo is in June,

3.2.761895Heard, not regarded -- seen, but with such eyes

3.2.771896As, sick and blunted with community,

3.2.781897Afford no extraordinary gaze

3.2.791898Such as is bent on sun-like majesty

3.2.801899When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,

3.2.811900But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,

3.2.821901Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect

3.2.831902As cloudy men use to their adversaries,

3.2.841903Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.

3.2.851904And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;

3.2.861905For thou hast lost thy princely privilege

3.2.871906With vile participation. Not an eye

3.2.881907But is a-weary of thy common sight

3.2.891908Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more,

3.2.901909Which now doth that I would not have it do:

3.2.911910Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,

3.2.931912Be more myself.

Be more myself. For all the world,

3.2.941914As thou art to this hour was Richard then,

3.2.951915When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,

3.2.961916And even as I was then is Percy now.

3.2.971917Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,

3.2.981918He hath more worthy interest to the state

3.2.991919Than thou, the shadow of succession;

3.2.1001920For, of no right, nor color like to right,

3.2.1011921He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,

3.2.1021922Turns head against the lion's armèd jaws,

3.2.1031923And, being no more in debt to years than thou,

3.2.1041924Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on

3.2.1051925To bloody battles, and to bruising arms.

3.2.1061926What never-dying honor hath he got

3.2.1071927Against renownèd Douglas, whose high deeds,

3.2.1081928Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,

3.2.1091929Holds from all soldiers chief majority

3.2.1101930And military title capital

3.2.1111931Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.

3.2.1121932Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling-clothes,

3.2.1131933This infant warrior, in his enterprises

3.2.1141934Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once;

3.2.1151935Enlargèd him, and made a friend of him

3.2.1161936To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,

3.2.1171937And shake the peace and safety of our throne.

3.2.1181938And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,

3.2.1191939The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,

3.2.1201940Capitulate against us, and are up.

3.2.1211941But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?

3.2.1221942Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,

3.2.1231943Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?

3.2.1241944Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,

3.2.1251945Base inclination, and the start of spleen,

3.2.1261946To fight against me under Percy's pay,

3.2.1271947To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,

3.2.1281948To show how much thou art degenerate.

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

3.2.1301950And god forgive them that so much have swayed

3.2.1311951Your majesty's good thoughts away from me.

3.2.1321952I will redeem all this on Percy's head,

3.2.1331953And in the closing of some glorious day

3.2.1341954Be bold to tell you that I am your son,

3.2.1351955When I will wear a garment all of blood,

3.2.1361956And stain my favors in a bloody mask,

3.2.1371957Which, washed away, shall scour my shame with it.

3.2.1381958And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,

3.2.1391959That this same child of honor and renown,

3.2.1401960This gallant Hotspur, this all-praisèd knight,

3.2.1411961And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.

3.2.1421962For every honor sitting on his helm,

3.2.1431963Would they were multitudes, and on my head

3.2.1441964My shames redoubled; for the time will come

3.2.1451965That I shall make this northern youth exchange

3.2.1461966His glorious deeds for my indignities.

3.2.1471967Percy is but my factor, good my lord,

3.2.1481968To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;

3.2.1491969And I will call him to so strict account

3.2.1501970That he shall render every glory up,

3.2.1511971Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,

3.2.1521972Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.

3.2.1531973This, in the name of god, I promise here,

3.2.1541974The which, if he be pleased I shall perform,

3.2.1551975I do beseech your majesty may salve

3.2.1561976The long-grown wounds of my intemperance;

3.2.1571977If not, the end of life cancels all bonds,

3.2.1581978And I will die a hundred thousand deaths

3.2.1591979Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.

A hundred thousand rebels die in this.

3.2.1611981Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.

3.2.1621983How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed.

So hath the business that I come to speak of.

3.2.1641985Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word

3.2.1651986That Douglas and the English rebels met

3.2.1661987The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.

3.2.1671988A mighty and a fearful head they are,

3.2.1681989If promises be kept on every hand,

3.2.1691990As ever offered foul play in a state.

The Earl of Westmorland set forth today,

3.2.1711992With him my son Lord John of Lancaster,

3.2.1721993For this advertisement is five days old.

3.2.1731994On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward,

3.2.1741995On Thursday we ourselves will march.

3.2.1751996Our meeting is Bridgnorth, and, Harry, you

3.2.1761997Shall march through Gloucestershire, by which account,

3.2.1771998Our business valuèd, some twelve days hence

3.2.1781999Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.

3.2.1792000Our hands are full of business; let's away.

3.2.1802001Advantage feeds him fat while men delay.

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.

3.3.102054How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired 2055yet who picked my pocket?

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.

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.

3.3.632184Now, Hal, to the news at court. For the robbery, lad, how is that 2185answered?

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!

My lord?

[Giving letters] Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,

3.3.742205To my brother John; this to my lord of Westmorland.

3.3.752206Go, Peto, to horse, to horse, for thou and I

3.3.762207Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

3.3.772208Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple Hall

3.3.782209At two o'clock in the afternoon.

3.3.792210There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive

3.3.802211Money and order for their furniture.

3.3.812212The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

3.3.822213And either we or they must lower lie.

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

3.3.842216Oh, I could wish this tavern were my drum!

Well said, my noble Scot! If speaking truth

4.1.22222In this fine age were not thought flattery,

4.1.32223Such attribution should the Douglas have

4.1.42224As not a soldier of this season's stamp

4.1.52225Should go so general current through the world.

4.1.62226By god, I cannot flatter, I do defy

4.1.72227The tongues of soothers, but a braver place

4.1.82228In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.

4.1.92229Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

Thou art the king of honor.

4.1.112231No man so potent breathes upon the ground

4.1.122232But I will beard him.

But I will beard him. Do so, and 'tis well.

4.1.132235What letters hast thou there? [To Douglas] I can but thank you.

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

4.1.182242In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

4.1.192243Under whose government come they along?

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

I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

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

4.1.232247And at the time of my departure thence

4.1.242248He was much feared by his physicians.

I would the state of time had first been whole

4.1.262250Ere he by sickness had been visited.

4.1.272251His health was never better worth than now.

Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

4.1.292253The very life-blood of our enterprise.

4.1.302254'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

4.1.312255He writes me here that inward sickness --

4.1.322256And that his friends by deputation

4.1.332257Could not so soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet

4.1.342258To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

4.1.352259On any soul removed but on his own.

4.1.362260Yet doth he give us bold advertisement

4.1.372261That with our small conjunction we should on,

4.1.382262To see how fortune is disposed to us;

4.1.392263For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

4.1.402264Because the king is certainly possessed

4.1.412265Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Your father's sickness is a maim to us.

A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.

4.1.442268And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

4.1.452269Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

4.1.462270To set the exact wealth of all our states

4.1.472271All at one cast? To set so rich a main

4.1.482272On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

4.1.492273It were not good, for therein should we read

4.1.502274The very bottom and the soul of hope,

4.1.512275The very list, the very utmost bound,

4.1.522276Of all our fortunes.

Faith, and so we should, where now remains

4.1.542278A sweet reversion -- we may boldly spend

4.1.552279Upon the hope of what is to come in.

4.1.562281A comfort of retirement lives in this.

A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

4.1.582283If that the devil and mischance look big

4.1.592284Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

But yet I would your father had been here.

4.1.612286The quality and hair of our attempt

4.1.622287Brooks no division. It will be thought

4.1.632288By some that know not why he is away

4.1.642289That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

4.1.652290Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence;

4.1.662291And think how such an apprehension

4.1.672292May turn the tide of fearful faction,

4.1.682293And breed a kind of question in our cause.

4.1.692294For, well you know, we of the off'ring side

4.1.702295Must keep aloof from strict arbitrament,

4.1.712296And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

4.1.722297The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

4.1.732298This absence of your father's draws a curtain

4.1.742299That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

4.1.752300Before not dreamt of.

Before not dreamt of. You strain too far.

4.1.762302I rather of his absence make this use:

4.1.772303It lends a luster, and more great opinion,

4.1.782304A larger dare to our great enterprise,

4.1.792305Than if the earl were here; for men must think

4.1.802306If we without his help can make a head

4.1.812307To push against a kingdom, with his help

4.1.822308We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.

4.1.832309Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

As heart can think, there is not such a word

4.1.852311Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!

Pray god my news be worth a welcome, lord.

4.1.882316The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

4.1.892317Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

No harm. What more?

No harm. What more? And further I have learned

4.1.912320The king himself in person is set forth,

4.1.922321Or hitherwards intended speedily,

4.1.932322With strong and mighty preparation.

He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

4.1.952325The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

4.1.962326And his comrades that daffed the world aside

4.1.972327And bid it pass?

And bid it pass? All furnished, all in arms,

4.1.982329All plumed like ostriches, that with the wind

4.1.992330Baited like eagles having lately bathed,

4.1.1002331Glittering in golden coats like images,

4.1.1012332As full of spirit as the month of May,

4.1.1022333And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;

4.1.1032334Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

4.1.1042335I saw young Harry with his beaver on,

4.1.1052336His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,

4.1.1062337Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,

4.1.1072338And vaulted with such ease into his seat

4.1.1082339As if an angel dropped down from the clouds

4.1.1092340To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,

4.1.1102341And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,

4.1.1122344This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come!

4.1.1132345They come like sacrifices in their trim,

4.1.1142346And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war

4.1.1152347All hot and bleeding will we offer them.

4.1.1162348The mailèd Mars shall on his altars sit

4.1.1172349Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

4.1.1182350To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

4.1.1192351And yet not ours! Come, let me taste my horse,

4.1.1202352Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

4.1.1212353Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.

4.1.1222354Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

4.1.1232355Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.

4.1.1242356Oh, that Glendower were come!

Oh, that Glendower were come! There is more news,

4.1.1252358I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,

4.1.1262359He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

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.

To thirty thousand. Forty let it be.

4.1.1322367My father and Glendower being both away,

4.1.1332368The powers of us may serve so great a day.

4.1.1342369Come, let us take a muster speedily.

4.1.1352370Doomsday is near: die all, die merrily.

Talk not of dying; I am out of fear

4.1.1372372Of death or death's hand for this one half year.

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.

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.

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

4.2.232455Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.

We'll fight with him tonight.

We'll fight with him tonight. It may not be.

You give him then advantage.

You give him then advantage. Not a whit.

Why say you so? Looks he not for supply?

So do we.

So do we. His is certain; ours is doubtful.

Good cousin, be advised. Stir not tonight.

Do not, my lord.

Do not, my lord. You do not counsel well.

4.3.72470You speak it out of fear and cold heart.

Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life --

4.3.92472And I dare well maintain it with my life --

4.3.102473If well-respected honor bid me on,

4.3.112474I hold as little counsel with weak fear

4.3.122475As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives.

4.3.132476Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle

4.3.142477Which of us fears.

Yea, or tonight.

Yea, or tonight. Content.

Yea, or tonight. Content. Tonight, say I.

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

4.3.172482Being men of such great leading as you are,

4.3.182483That you foresee not what impediments

4.3.192484Drag back our expedition. Certain horse

4.3.202485Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up.

4.3.212486Your uncle Worcester's horses came but today,

4.3.222487And now their pride and mettle is asleep,

4.3.232488Their courage with hard labor tame and dull,

4.3.242489That not a horse is half the half of himself.

So are the horses of the enemy

4.3.262491In general journey-bated and brought low.

4.3.272492The better part of ours are full of rest.

The number of the king exceedeth ours.

4.3.292494For god's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.

I come with gracious offers from the king,

4.3.312498If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.

Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt: and would to god

4.3.332500You were of our determination.

4.3.342501Some of us love you well, and even those some

4.3.352502Envy your great deservings and good name,

4.3.362503Because you are not of our quality,

4.3.372504But stand against us like an enemy.

And god defend but still I should stand so,

4.3.392506So long as out of limit and true rule

4.3.402507You stand against anointed majesty.

4.3.412508But to my charge. The king hath sent to know

4.3.422510The nature of your griefs, and whereupon

4.3.432511You conjure from the breast of civil peace

4.3.442512Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land

4.3.452513Audacious cruelty. If that the king

4.3.462514Have any way your good deserts forgot,

4.3.472515Which he confesseth to be manifold,

4.3.482516He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed

4.3.492517You shall have your desires with interest

4.3.502518And pardon absolute for yourself and these

4.3.512519Herein misled by your suggestion.

The king is kind, and well we know the king

4.3.532522Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.

4.3.542523My father and my uncle and myself

4.3.552524Did give him that same royalty he wears;

4.3.562525And when he was not six-and-twenty strong,

4.3.572526Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,

4.3.582527A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,

4.3.592528My father gave him welcome to the shore;

4.3.602529And when he heard him swear and vow to god

4.3.612530He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,

4.3.622531To sue his livery, and beg his peace

4.3.632532With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,

4.3.642533My father, in kind heart and pity moved,

4.3.652534Swore him assistance, and performed it too.

4.3.662535Now when the lords and barons of the realm

4.3.672536Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,

4.3.682537The more and less came in with cap and knee,

4.3.692538Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,

4.3.702539Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,

4.3.712540Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths,

4.3.722541Gave him their heirs as pages, followed him

4.3.732542Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.

4.3.742543He presently, as greatness knows itself,

4.3.752544Steps me a little higher than his vow

4.3.762545Made to my father while his blood was poor

4.3.772546Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh,

4.3.782547And now forsooth takes on him to reform

4.3.792548Some certain edicts and some strait decrees

4.3.802549That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,

4.3.812550Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep

4.3.822551Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,

4.3.832552This seeming brow of justice, did he win

4.3.842553The hearts of all that he did angle for;

4.3.852554Proceeded further, cut me off the heads

4.3.862555Of all the favorites that the absent king

4.3.872556In deputation left behind him here

4.3.882557When he was personal in the Irish war.

Tut, I came not to hear this.

Tut, I came not to hear this. Then to the point.

4.3.912560In short time after, he deposed the king,

4.3.922561Soon after that deprived him of his life,

4.3.932562And in the neck of that tasked the whole state;

4.3.942563To make that worse, suffered his kinsman March

4.3.952564(Who is, if every owner were well placed,

4.3.962565Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales,

4.3.972566There without ransom to lie forfeited;

4.3.982567Disgraced me in my happy victories,

4.3.992568Sought to entrap me by intelligence,

4.3.1002569Rated mine uncle from the council-board,

4.3.1012570In rage dismissed my father from the court,

4.3.1022571Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,

4.3.1032572And in conclusion drove us to seek out

4.3.1042573This head of safety, and withal to pry

4.3.1052574Into his title, the which we find

4.3.1062575Too indirect for long continuance.

Shall I return this answer to the king?

Not so, Sir Walter. We'll withdraw awhile.

4.3.1092579Go to the king, and let there be impawned

4.3.1102580Some surety for a safe return again;

4.3.1112581And in the morning early shall mine uncle

4.3.1122582Bring him our purposes. And so, farewell.

I would you would accept of grace and love.

And may be so we shall.

And may be so we shall. Pray god you do.

Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealèd brief

4.4.22589With wingèd haste to the Lord Marshal,

4.4.32590This to my cousin Scrope, and all the rest

4.4.42591To whom they are directed. If you knew

4.4.52592How much they do import, you would make haste.

My good lord, I guess their tenor.

My good lord, I guess their tenor. Like enough you do.

4.4.72596Tomorrow, good Sir Michael, is a day

4.4.82597Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men

4.4.92598Must bide the touch. For, sir, at Shrewsbury,

4.4.102599As I am truly given to understand,

4.4.112600The king with mighty and quick-raisèd power

4.4.122601Meets with Lord Harry. And I fear, Sir Michael,

4.4.132602What with the sickness of Northumberland,

4.4.142603Whose power was in the first proportion,

4.4.152604And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,

4.4.162605Who with them was a rated sinew too,

4.4.172606And comes not in, overruled by prophecies,

4.4.182607I fear the power of Percy is too weak

4.4.192608To wage an instant trial with the king.

Why, my good lord, you need not fear,

4.4.212610There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.

No, Mortimer is not there.

But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy;

4.4.242613And there is my lord of Worcester, and a head

4.4.252614Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

And so there is. But yet the king hath drawn

4.4.272617The special head of all the land together:

4.4.282618The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,

4.4.292619The noble Westmorland, and warlike Blunt,

4.4.302620And many more corrivals, and dear men

4.4.312621Of estimation and command in arms.

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

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

4.4.342624And to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed.

4.4.352625For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the king

4.4.362626Dismiss his power he means to visit us,

4.4.372627For he hath heard of our confederacy,

4.4.382628And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him.

4.4.392629Therefore make haste. I must go write again

4.4.402630To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael.

How bloodily the sun begins to peer

5.1.22636Above yon bulky hill! The day looks pale

5.1.32637At his distemperature.

At his distemperature. The southern wind

5.1.42639Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,

5.1.52640And by his hollow whistling in the leaves

5.1.62641Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.

Then with the losers let it sympathize,

5.1.82643For nothing can seem foul to those that win.

How now, my lord of Worcester? 'Tis not well

5.1.102647That you and I should meet upon such terms

5.1.112648As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,

5.1.122649And made us doff our easy robes of peace

5.1.132650To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.

5.1.142651This is not well, my lord, this is not well.

5.1.152652What say you to it? Will you again unknit

5.1.162653This churlish knot of all-abhorrèd war,

5.1.172654And move in that obedient orb again

5.1.182655Where you did give a fair and natural light,

5.1.192656And be no more an exhaled meteor,

5.1.202657A prodigy of fear, and a portent

5.1.212658Of broachèd mischief to the unborn times?

Hear me, my liege:

5.1.232660For mine own part, I could be well content

5.1.242661To entertain the lag-end of my life

5.1.252662With quiet hours; for I protest,

5.1.262663I have not sought the day of this dislike.

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

5.1.312668Of favor from myself and all our house;

5.1.322669And yet I must remember you, my lord,

5.1.332670We were the first and dearest of your friends.

5.1.342671For you my staff of office did I break

5.1.352672In Richard's time, and posted day and night

5.1.362673To meet you on the way and kiss your hand

5.1.372674When yet you were in place and in account

5.1.382675Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.

5.1.392676It was myself, my brother, and his son

5.1.402677That brought you home, and boldly did outdare

5.1.412678The dangers of the time. You swore to us,

5.1.422679And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,

5.1.432680That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state,

5.1.442681Nor claim no further than your new-fallen right,

5.1.452682The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:

5.1.462683To this we swore our aid. But in short space

5.1.472684It rained down fortune showering on your head,

5.1.482685And such a flood of greatness fell on you,

5.1.492686What with our help, what with the absent king,

5.1.502687What with the injuries of a wanton time,

5.1.512688The seeming sufferances that you had borne,

5.1.522689And the contrarious winds that held the king

5.1.532690So long in his unlucky Irish wars

5.1.542691That all in England did repute him dead;

5.1.552692And from this swarm of fair advantages

5.1.562693You took occasion to be quickly wooed

5.1.572694To gripe the general sway into your hand,

5.1.582695Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster,

5.1.592696And being fed by us, you used us so

5.1.602697As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,

5.1.612698Useth the sparrow -- did oppress our nest,

5.1.622699Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk

5.1.632700That even our love durst not come near your sight

5.1.642701For fear of swallowing. But with nimble wing

5.1.652702We were enforced for safety sake to fly

5.1.662703Out of your sight, and raise this present head,

5.1.672704Whereby we stand opposèd by such means

5.1.682705As you yourself have forged against yourself,

5.1.692706By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,

5.1.702707And violation of all faith and troth

5.1.712708Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

These things indeed you have articulate,

5.1.732710Proclaimed at market crosses, read in churches,

5.1.742711To face the garment of rebellion

5.1.752712With some fine color that may please the eye

5.1.762713Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,

5.1.772714Which gape and rub the elbow at the news

5.1.782715Of hurly-burly innovation;

5.1.792716And never yet did insurrection want

5.1.802717Such water-colors to impaint his cause,

5.1.812718Nor moody beggars starving for a time

5.1.822719Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.

In both your armies there is many a soul

5.1.842721Shall pay full dearly for this encounter

5.1.852722If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew

5.1.862723The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world

5.1.872724In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,

5.1.882725This present enterprise set off his head,

5.1.892726I do not think a braver gentleman,

5.1.902727More active-valiant or more valiant-young,

5.1.912728More daring, or more bold, is now alive

5.1.922729To grace this latter age with noble deeds.

5.1.932730For my part -- I may speak it to my shame --

5.1.942731I have a truant been to chivalry,

5.1.952732And so I hear he doth account me too.

5.1.962733Yet this, before my father's majesty:

5.1.972734I am content that he shall take the odds

5.1.982735Of his great name and estimation,

5.1.992736And will, to save the blood on either side,

5.1.1002737Try fortune with him in a single fight.

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

5.1.1022739Albeit considerations infinite

5.1.1032740Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no.

5.1.1042741We love our people well, even those we love

5.1.1052742That are misled upon your cousin's part,