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Henry IV, Part 1 (Modern)
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964[2.4]
965Enter Prince and Poins.
Ned, prithee come out of that fat room, and lend me 967thy hand to laugh a little.
Where hast been, Hal?
With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or 970fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very bass-string of humility. 971Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers, and 972can call them all by their Christian names, as Tom, Dick, and 973Francis. They take it already upon their salvation that though I 974be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy, and tell me 975flatly I am no proud Jack like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad 976of mettle, a good boy (by the lord, so they call me) and when I 977am king of England I shall command all the good lads in 978Eastcheap. They call drinking deep "dyeing scarlet," and when you 979breathe in your watering they cry "hem!" and bid you "play it off!" 980To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour 981that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during 982my life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor that thou 984wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned -- to sweeten 985which name of Ned I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped 986even now into my hand by an underskinker, one that never spake 987other English in his life than "Eight shillings and sixpence," and 988"You are welcome," with this shrill addition, "Anon, anon, sir! Score a 989pint of bastard in the Half-moon!" or so. But, Ned, to drive 990away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand in 991some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end 992he gave me the sugar, and do thou never leave calling "Francis!" 993that his tale to me may be nothing but "Anon!" Step aside, and I'll 995show thee a precedent.
[Exit Poins.]
[Within] Francis!
Thou art perfect.
[Within] Francis!
2.4.6.1Enter Drawer.
Anon, anon, sir! [Calling] Look down into the Pomgarnet, 1001Ralph!
Come hither, Francis.
My lord.
How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Forsooth, five years, and as much as to --
[Within] Francis!
Anon, anon, sir.
Five year! By'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of 1009pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward 1010with thy indenture, and show it a fair pair of heels, and run 1011from it?
O lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in 1013England, I could find in my heart --
[Within] Francis!
Anon sir.
How old art thou Francis?
Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shall be --
[Within] Francis!
Anon sir. Pray stay a little my lord.
Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest 1021me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not?
O lord, I would it had been two!
I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask me when 1024thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
[Within] Francis!
Anon, anon.
Anon, Francis? No, Francis, but tomorrow, Francis; or, 1028Francis, a-Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But 1029Francis --
My lord?
Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, 1032not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue 1033Spanish pouch?
O lord, sir, who do you mean?
Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink! For 1036look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. In 1037Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.
What sir?
[Within] Francis!
Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them call?
2.4.34.2Enter Vintner.
What, standest thou still, and hearest such a calling? Look 1045to the guests within.
2.4.35.1[Exit Francis.]
Let them alone a while, and then open the door.
2.4.37.1[Exit Vintner.]
2.4.38Poins!
Anon, anon sir!
2.4.39.1Enter Poins.
Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the 1053door. Shall we be merry?
As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye, what cunning 1055match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come, 1056what's the issue?
I am now of all humors that have showed themselves 1058humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil 1059age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
2.4.42.1[Enter Francis.]
Anon, anon, sir.
2.4.44.1[Exit Francis.]
That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a 1063parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs 1064and downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am 1065not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North, he that kills me 1066some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes 1067his hands, and says to his wife, "Fie upon this quiet life! I want 1068work." "O my sweet Harry," says she, "how many hast thou killed 1069today?" "Give my roan horse a drench," says he, and 1070answers, "Some fourteen," an hour after; "a trifle, a trifle." I prithee 1072call in Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall 1073play Dame Mortimer his wife. "Rivo!" says the drunkard. Call in 1074Ribs, call in Tallow.
Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too, 1078marry and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life 1079long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them and foot them too. 1080A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there 1081no virtue extant?
2.4.47.1 He drinketh.
Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter (pitiful 1083hearted Titan!) that melted at the sweet tale of the sun's? If thou 1084didst, then behold that compound.
You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. There is 1086nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man, yet a coward is 1087worse than a cup of sack with lime in it. A villainous coward! 1088Go thy ways, old Jack, die when thou wilt. If manhood, good 1089manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a 1090shotten herring. There lives not three good men unhanged in 1091England, and one of them is fat and grows old, god help the 1092while. A bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver, I could sing psalms, 1094or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say still.
How now, woolsack, what mutter you?
A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom 1097with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a 1098flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You, 1099Prince of Wales!
Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
Are not you a coward? Answer me to that. And 1102Poins there?
Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the 1104lord I'll stab thee.
I call thee coward? I'll see thee damned ere I call thee 1106coward, but I would give a thousand pound I could run as 1107fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you 1108care not who sees your back. Call you that backing of your 1109friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them that will 1110face me. Give me a cup of sack. I am a rogue if I drunk today.
O villain, thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunkest last.
All is one for that.
2.4.57.1He drinketh.
What's the matter?
What's the matter? There be four of us here have ta'en a 1118thousand pound this day morning.
Where is it, Jack, where is it?
Where is it? Taken from us it is. A hundred upon poor 1121four of us.
What, a hundred, man?
I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen 1124of them, two hours together. I have scaped by miracle. I am 1125eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hose, 1126my buckler cut through and through, my sword hacked like a 1127handsaw. Ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man. All 1128would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak. [Indicates Gadshill, Peto, and Bardolph.] If they 1129speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the sons 1131of darkness.
Speak sirs, how was it?
We four set upon some dozen --
Sixteen at least, my lord.
And bound them.
No, no, they were not bound.
You rogue, they were bound every man of them, or 1138I am a Jew else, an Hebrew Jew.
As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set 1140upon us.
And unbound the rest; and then come in the other.
What, fought you with them all?
All? I know not what you call all, but if I fought not with 1145fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish. If there were not two- or 1146three-and-fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged 1147creature.
Pray god you have not murdered some of them.
Nay, that's past praying for. I have peppered two of them. 1151Two I am sure I have paid -- two rogues in buckram suits. I tell 1152thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. 1153Thou knowest my old ward -- here I lay, and thus I bore my 1154point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me.
What, four? Thou saidst but two even now.
Four, Hal, I told thee four.
Ay, ay, he said four.
These four came all afront, and mainly thrust at me. 1160I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my 1161target, thus.
Seven? Why, there were but four even now.
In buckram?
Ay, four in buckram suits.
Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
Prithee, let him alone. We shall have more anon.
Dost thou hear me, Hal?
Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in 1170buckram that I told thee of --
So, two more already.
Their points being broken --
Down fell their hose.
Began to give me ground. But I followed me close, came 1175in foot and hand, and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.
Oh, monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out of two!
But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves 1180in Kendal green came at my back and let drive at me; for it 1181was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.
These lies are like their father that begets them, gross as 1184a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou 1185knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch --
What, art thou mad? Art thou mad? Is not the truth the 1188truth?
Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green 1190when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us 1191your reason. What sayst thou to this?
Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were at the 1195strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on 1196compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were 1197as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon 1198compulsion, I.
I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. This sanguine 1200coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill 1201of flesh --
'Sblood, you starveling, you eel-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you 1203bull's pizzle, you stock-fish. Oh, for breath to utter what is like thee! 1204You tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck!
Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again, and when thou 1207hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.
Mark, Jack.
We two saw you four set on four, and bound them, and 1211were masters of their wealth. Mark now how a plain tale shall 1212put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and, with a word, 1213outfaced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show 1214it you here in the house. And Falstaff, you carried your guts 1215away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and 1216still run and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou,1218 to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in 1219fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole canst thou 1220now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?
Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?
By the lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, 1225hear you, my masters. Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? 1226Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as 1227valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct. The lion will not touch 1228the true prince -- instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward 1229on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee during 1230my life: I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But by 1231the lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to 1232the doors. Watch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, 1233boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come 1234to you! What, shall we be merry, shall we have a play 1235extempore?
Content, and the argument shall be thy running away.
Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.
2.4.108.1Enter Hostess
O Jesu, my lord the prince!
How now, my lady the hostess, what sayst thou to me?
Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door 1244would speak with you. He says he comes from your father.
Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and 1247send him back again to my mother.
What manner of man is he?
An old man.
What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I 1251give him his answer?
Prithee do, Jack.
Faith, and I'll send him packing.
2.4.117.1Exit.
Now sirs, by'r Lady, you fought fair; so did you, Peto; so 1255did you, Bardolph. You are lions, too, you ran away upon instinct, you 1256will not touch the true prince, no fie!
Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's sword 1260so hacked?
Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would 1262swear truth out of England but he would make you believe 1263it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like.
Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass, to make 1266them bleed; and then to beslubber our garments with it, and 1267swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this 1268seven year before -- I blushed to hear his monstrous devices.
O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years 1271ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast 1272blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet 1273thou rannest away. What instinct hadst thou for it?
My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you 1276behold these exhalations?
I do.
What think you they portend?
Hot livers, and cold purses.
Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
2.4.128.1Enter Falstaff.
No, if rightly taken, halter. Here comes lean Jack; here 1283comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast? 1284How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was 1287not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any 1288alderman's thumb-ring. A plague of sighing and grief, it blows 1289a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad. Here 1290was Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in 1292the morning. That same mad fellow of the North, Percy, and 1293he of Wales that gave Amamon the bastinado, and made 1294Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross 1295of a Welsh hook -- what a plague call you him?
Owen Glendower.
Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law 1299Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of 1300Scots, Douglas, that runs a-horseback up a hill 1301perpendicular --
He that rides at high speed and with his pistol kills a 1303sparrow flying.
You have hit it.
So did he never the sparrow.
Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him, he will not 1307run.
Why, what a rascal art thou, then, to praise him so for 1309running!
A-horseback, ye cuckoo, but afoot he will not budge 1311a foot.
Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one 1314Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more. Worcester is stolen 1315away tonight. Thy father's beard is turned white with the news. 1316You may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.
Why then, it is like, if there come a hot June and this 1319civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy 1320hobnails: by the hundreds.
By the mass, lad, thou sayst true; it is like we shall have 1322good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, art not thou horrible 1323afeard? Thou being heir-apparent, could the world pick thee 1324out three such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that 1325spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? 1326Doth not thy blood thrill at it?
Not a whit, i'faith. I lack some of thy instinct.
Well, thou wilt be horribly chid tomorrow when 1330thou comest to thy father. If thou love me, practice an 1331answer.
Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the 1333particulars of my life.
Shall I? Content. This chair shall be my state, this 1335dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre 1338for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful 1339bald crown.
Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, 1341now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to make 1342my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; 1343for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein.1344
Well, here is my leg.
And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i'faith.
Weep not, sweet Queen, for trickling tears are vain.
O the Father, how he holds his countenance!
For god's sake, lords, convey my tristful Queen,
O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as 1355ever I see!
Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. --1357Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy 1358time, but also how thou art accompanied. For though the 1359camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, so youth, 1360the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son 1361I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, but 1362chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging 1363of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be 1364son to me, here lies the point. Why, being son to me, art 1365thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a 1367micher, and eat blackberries? A question not to be asked. Shall the 1368son of England prove a thief, and take purses? A question to 1369be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, 1370and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch. This 1371pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile. So doth the 1373company thou keepest. For, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in 1374drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words 1375only, but in woes also. And yet there is a virtuous man whom 1376I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.
What manner of man, an it like your majesty?
A goodly, portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful 1381look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, 1382his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore. And now 1383I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man should be 1384lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his 1385looks. If, then, the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit 1387by the tree, then peremptorily I speak it: there is virtue in that 1388Falstaff. Him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou 1389naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?
Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and 1392I'll play my father.
Depose me. If thou dost it half so gravely, so 1394majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a 1395rabbit sucker, or a poulter's hare.
Well, here I am set.
And here I stand. Judge, my masters.
Now, Harry, whence come you?
My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
'Sblood, my lord, they are false. [Aside] Nay, I'll tickle ye for a young 1402prince i'faith.
Swearest thou, ungracious boy? Henceforth ne'er look 1404on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace. There is a 1405devil haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat man; a tun of man 1406is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of 1407humors, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel 1409of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of 1410guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, 1411that reverend Vice, that gray Iniquity, that father Ruffian, that 1412Vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? 1413Wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? Wherein 1415cunning, but in craft? Wherein crafty, but in villainy? Wherein 1416villainous, but in all things? Wherein worthy, but in nothing?
I would your grace would take me with you. Whom 1419means your grace?
That villainous, abominable misleader of youth, 1421Falstaff; that old white-bearded Satan.
My lord, the man I know.
I know thou dost.
But to say I know more harm in him than in myself 1425were to say more than I know. That he is old, the more the 1426pity, his white hairs do witness it. But that he is, saving your reverence, 1427a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar 1428be a fault, god help the wicked. If to be old and merry be a sin, 1430then many an old host that I know is damned. If to be fat be to be 1431hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord, 1432banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins, but for sweet Jack 1433Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant 1434Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant being, as he is, old Jack 1436Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not 1437him thy Harry's company. Banish plump Jack, and banish all 1438the world.
I do, I will.
2.4.174.1 [Knocking within. Exeunt Hostess, Francis and Bardolph.] Enter Bardolph running.
O my lord, my lord, the sheriff with a most monstrous 1442watch is at the door.
Out, ye rogue! Play out the play! I have much to say in 1444the behalf of that Falstaff.
O Jesu! My lord, my lord!
Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick! What's 1448the matter?
The sheriff and all the watch are at the door. They are 1450come to search the house. Shall I let them in?
Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece of gold a 1453counterfeit. Thou art essentially made, without seeming so.
And thou a natural coward without instinct.
I deny your major. If you will deny the sheriff, so. If not, 1458let him enter. If I become not a cart as well as another man, a 1459plague on my bringing up. I hope I shall as soon be strangled 1460with a halter as another.
Go, hide thee behind the arras. The rest walk up above. 1463Now, my masters, for a true face and good conscience.
Both which I have had, but their date is out; and 1466therefore I'll hide me.
2.4.184.1[Falstaff hides.]
Call in the sheriff.
Now Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?
First pardon me my lord. A hue and cry
What men?
One of them is well known, my gracious lord,
As fat as butter.
The man, I do assure you, is not here,
I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
It may be so. If he have robbed these men,
Good night, my noble lord.
I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
2.4.206.1Exit [with Carrier.]
This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go call 1493him forth.
Falstaff!
2.4.208.1[He draws back the arras.]
Hark how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
What hast thou found?
Nothing but papers, my lord.
Let's see what they be, read them.
[reading] Item: a capon. 2s. 2d.
Oh, monstrous! But one halfpennyworth of bread to this 1509intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at 1510more advantage. There let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in 1511the morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place shall be 1512honorable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot, and I know 1514his death will be a march of twelve score. The money shall be 1515paid back again, with advantage. Be with me betimes in the 1516morning; and so good morrow, Peto.
Good morrow, good my lord.
2.4.220.1Exeunt.