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SCENE II.-London. A room in the palace. Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new; Enter King Henry, Prince of Wales, and
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at: and so my state, Lords.
Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast; K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the Prince of And won, by rareness, such solemnity. Wales and I,
The skipping king, he ambled up and down Must have some conference : But be near at With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits, hand,
Soon kindled, and soon burn'd: carded his state ; For we shall presently have need of you. Mingled his royalty with capering fools;
[Ereunt Lords. Had his great name profaned with their scorns ; I know not whether God will have it so, And gave his countenance, against his name, For some displeasing service I have done, To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push That in his secret doom, out of my blood Of every beardless vain comparative: He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; Grew a companion to the common streets, But thou dost, in thy passages of life,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity : Make me believe,—that thou art only mark'd That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven, They surfeited with honey; and began To punish my mis-treadings. Tell me else, To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little Could such inordinate, and low desires,
More than a little is by much too much. Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean at- So, when he had occasion to be seen, tempts,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Such barren pleasures, rude society,
Heard, not regarded ; seen, but with such eyes, As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to, As, sick and blunted with community, Accompany the greatness of thy blood, Afford no extraordinary gaze, And hold their level with thy princely heart? Such as is bent on sun-like majesty,
P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would, I could When it shines seldom in admiring eyes : Quit all offences with as clear excuse,
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down, As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect, Myself of many I am charg’d withal :
As cloudy men use to their adversaries ; Yét such extenuation let me beg,
Being with his presence glutted, gorg’d, and full. As, in reproof of many tales devis’d,
And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou : Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,-- For thou hast lost thy princely privilege, By smiling pick-thanks and base newsmongers, With vile participation; not an eye I may, for some things true, wherein my youth But is a-weary of thy common sight, Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more; Find pardon on my true submission.
Which now doth that I would not have it do, K. Hen. God pardon thee !-yet let me won- Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. der, Harry,
P. Hen. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious At thy affections, which do hold a wing
lord, Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. Be more myself. Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, R. Hen. For all the world, Which by thy younger brother is supplied ; As thou art to this hour, was Richard then And art almost an alien to the hearts
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg ; Of all the court and princes of my blood : And even as I was then is Percy now. The hope and expectation of thy time
Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot, Is ruin'à ; and the soul of every man
He hath more worthy interest to the state, Prophetically does fore-think thy fall.
Than thou, the shadow of succession : Had I so lavish of my presence been,
For, of no right, nor colour like to right, So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, He doth fill fields with harness in the realm ; So stale and cheap to vulgar company;
Turns head against the lion's armed jaws; Opinion, that did help me to the crown, And, being no more in debt to years than thou, Had still kept loyal to possession ;
Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on, And left me in reputeless banishment,
To bloody battles, and to bruising arms. A fellow of no mark, nor likelihood.
What never-dying honour hath he got By being seldom seen, I could not stir, Against renowned Douglas ; whose high deeds, But, like a comet, I was wonder'd at :
Whose hot incursions, and great name in arms, That men would tell their children, This is he; Holds from all soldiers chief majority, Others would say,–Where? Which is Boling- And military title capital, broke?
Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
Christ? And dress’d myself in such humility,
Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathing That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, clothes, Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, This infant warrior in his enterprizes Even in the presence of the crowned king. Discomfited great Douglas ; ta'en him once,
it so ;
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer'd foul play in a state.
With him my son, lord John of Lancaster; The archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mor- For this advertisement is five days old :timer,
On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set Capitulate against us, and are up.
Forward; on Thursday, we ourselves will march: But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? Our meeting is Bridgnorth : and, Harry, you Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, Shall march through Glostershire; by which acWhich art my near'st and dearest enemy?
count, Thou that art like enough,-through vassal fear, Our business valued, some twelve days hence Base inclination, and the start of spleen, Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet. To fight against me under Percy's pay,
Our hands are full of business ; let's away; To dog his heels, and court'sy at his frowns, Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. To show how much degenerate thou art.
[Ezeunt. P. Hen. Do not think so, you shall not find
SCENE III.—Eastcheap. A room in the Boar's And God forgive them that have so much sway'd
Enter Falstaff and BARDOLPH.
Fal. Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely Be bold to tell you, that I am your son ; since this last action ? do I not bate? do I not When I will wear a garment all of blood, dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like And stain my favours in a bloody mask, an old lady's loose gown ; I am wither'd like an Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame old apple-John. Well, I'll repent, and that sudwith it.
denly, while I am in some liking; I shall be out And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength That this same child of honour and renown, to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inThis gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, side of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet : a brewer's horse: the inside of a church ! ComFor every honour sitting on his helm,
pany, villainous company, hath been the spoil 'Would they were multitudes; and on my head of me. My shames redoubled ! for the time will come Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot That I shall make this northern youth exchange live long. His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Fal. Why, there is it :-come, sing me a base Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
dy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; given, as a gentleman need to be; virtuous And I will call him to so strict account, enough ; swore little ; diced, not above seven That he shall render every glory up,
times a week : went to a bawdy-house, not above Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, once in a quarter-of an hour; paid money that Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. I borrowed, three or four times; lived well, and This, in the name of God, I promise here: in good compass : and now I live out of all or. The which if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
der, out of all compass. I do beseech your majesty, may
Bard. Why, you are so fat, sir John, that you The long-grown wounds of my intemperance : must needs be out of all compass; out of all reaIf not, the end of life cancels all bands; sonable compass, sir John. And I will die a hundred thousand deaths, Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amnend Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. my life: Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the K. Hen. A hundred thousand rebels die in lantern in the poop,-but'tis in the nose of thee; this :
thou art the knight of the burning lamp. Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust Bard. Why, sir John, my face does you do herein.
Fal. No, I'll be sworn ; I make as good use Enter BLUNT.
of it as many a man doth of a death's-htad, or ? Ilow now, good Blunt ? thy looks are full of memento mori : I never see thy face, but I think speed.
on hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple ; for Biunt. So hath the business that I come to there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If speak of.
thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear Lord Micrtimer of Scotland hath sent word, by thy face; my cath should be, By this fre: That Douglas, and the English rebels, met, but thou art altogether given over ; and wert inThe eleventh of this month, at Shrewsbury: deed, but for the light in thy face, the son of uiA mighty and a fearful head they are,
ter darkness. When thou ran'st up Gadshill in
the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus, or a ball of wild- Enter Prince Henry and Poins, marching: fire, there's no purchase in money. 0, thou art a
Falstaff meets the Prince, playing on his perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light!
truncheon like a fife. Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links Fal. How now, lad ? is the wind in that door, and torches, walking with thee in the night be- i'faith? must we all march? twixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion ? hast drunk me, would have bought me lights as Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me. good cheap, at the dearest chandler's in Europe. P. Hen. What sayest thou, mistress Quickly? I have maintained that salamander of yours with How does thy husband ? I love him well, he is fire, any time this two and thirty years ; Heaven an honest man. reward me for it!
Host. Good my lord, hear me. Bard. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your Fal. Pr’ythee, let her alone, and list to me. belly!
P. Hen. What sayst thou, Jack ? Fal
. God-a-mercy ! so should I be sure to be Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind heart-burned.
the arras, and had my pocket picked: this house
P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack ?
Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four How now, dame Partlet the hen? have you in bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of quired yet, who picked my pocket ?
my grandfather's. Host. Why, sír John ! what do you think, sir P. Hen. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. John ? Do you think I keep thieves in my house? Host. So I told him, my lord ; and I said, I I have searched, I have inquired, so has my hus- heard your grace say so: And, my lord, he speaks band, man by man, boy by boy, servant by ser most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as vant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my he is; and said, he would cudgel you. house before.
P. Hen. What! he did not ? Fal. You lie, hostess ; Bardolph was shaved, Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanand lost many a hair: and I'll be sworn, my hood in me else. pocket was picked : Go to, you are a woman, Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a go.
stewed prune ; nor no more truth in thee, than Host. Who I? I defy thee: I was never call- in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, maid Maed so in mine own house before.
rian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to Fal. Go to, I know you well enough.
thee. Go, you thing, go. Host. No, sir John; you do not know me, Host. Say, what thing? what thing? sir John: I know you, sir John: you owe me Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God money, sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to on. beguile me of it : I bought you a dozen of shirts Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would to your back.
thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas : I have given them wife : and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou away to bakers' wives, and they have made bolt- art a knave to call me so. ers of them.
Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of a beast to say otherwise. eight shillings an ell. You owe money here be Host. Say, what beast, thou knave thou? sides, sir John, for your diet, and by-drinkings, Fal. What beast? why an otter. and money lent you, four and twenty pound. P. Hen. An otter, sir John ? why an otter?
Fal. He had his part of it ; let him pay. Fal. Why? she’s neither fish, nor flesh; a man Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath no knows not where to have her. thing.
Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so : Fal. How! poor ? look upon his face ; What thou or any man knows where to have me, thou call you rich ? let them coin his nose, let them knave thou ! coin his cheeks ; I'll not pay a denier. What, P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he will you make a younker of me? shall I not take slanders thee most grossly. mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket Host. So he doth you, my lord ; and said this picked ? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfa- other day, you ought him a thousand pound. ther's, worth forty mark.
P. Hen. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand Host. O Jesu!' I have heard the prince tell pound? him, I know not how oft, that that ring was Fal. A thousand pound, Hal! a million : thy copper.
love is worth a million ; thou owest me thy Fal. How ! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup ; | love. and if he were here, I would cudgel him like a Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and dog, if he would say so.
said, he would cudgel you.
Fal. Did I, Bardolph?
P. Hen. O, my sweet beef, I must still be Bard. Indeed, sir John, you said so. good angel to thee :- The money is paid back Fal. Yea; if he said my ring was copper. again.
P. Hen. I say, 'tis copper : Darest thou be as Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a good as thy word now?
double labour. Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, but man, I dare ; but, as thou art prince, I fear and may do any thing. thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing P. Hen. And why not, as the lion ?
thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the too. lion : Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear Bard. Do, my lord. thy father ? nay, an I do, I pray God, my gir P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge dle break!
of foot. P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where fall about thy knees ! But, sirrah, there's no room shall I find one that can steal well ? O for a fine for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thief, of the age of two and twenty, or there thine; it is filled up with guts, and midriff. abouts ! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God Charge an honest woman with picking thy pock- be thanked for these rebels, they offend none et! Why, thou whoreson, impudent, embossed but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them. rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket P. Hen. Bardolphbut tavern-reckonings, memorandums of bawdy Bard. My lord? houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-can P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of dy to make thee long winded ; if thy pocket Lancaster, were enriched with any other injuries but these, My brother John ; this to my lord of WestinordI am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; land. you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou not Go, Poins, to horse, to horse ; for thou, and I, ashamed ?
Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner timeFal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in Jack, the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what Meet me to-morrow in the Temple-ball should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of vil. At two o'clock i’the afternoon : lainy? thou seest, I have more flesh than another There shalt thou know thy charge; and there man; and therefore more frailty.—You confess receive then, you picked my pocket ?
Money, and order for their furniture. P. Hen. It appears so by the story.
The land is burning ; Percy stands on high ; Fal, Hostess, I forgive thee : Go, make ready And either they, or we, must lower lie. breakfast ; love thy husband, look to thy ser
[Ercunt Prince, Poins, and Bardolph. vants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me Fal. Rare words! brave world !-Hostess, my tractable to any honest reason : thou seest, I am breakfast; come :pacified. Still?-_Nay, pr’ythee, be gone. [Erit 0, I could wish, this tavern were my drum. Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,-How is that answered ?
SCENE I.—The rebel camp near Shrewsbury. No man so potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard him. Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and Douglas.
Hot. Do so, and 'tis well:Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: If speaking
Enter a Messenger, with letters. truth, In this fine age, were not thought flattery, What letters hast thou there?-I can but then Such attribution should the Douglas have,
you. As not a soldier of this season's stamp
Mess. These letters come from your fath?,Should go so general current through the world. Hot. Letters from him! why comes be not By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy
himself? The tongues of soothers; but a braver place Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's geIn my heart's love, hath no man than yourself: vous sick. Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord. Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be Doug. Thou art the king of honour:
In such a justling time? Who leads his power? Hot. You strain too far.
Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I,my lord. It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,
If we, without his help, can make a head
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.. Wor. I would, the state of time had first been Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole. whole,
Doug. As heart can think: there is not such Ere he by sickness had been visited ;
a word His health was never better worth than now. Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear. Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect
Enter Sir RICHARD VERNON. The very life-blood of our enterprize ; 'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my He writes me here,- that inward sickness
soul. And that his friends by deputation could not Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a welcome, So soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet,
lord. To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
The earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, On any soul remov’d, but on his own.
Ismarching hitherwards ; with him, prince John. Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
Hot. No harm: What more?
The king himself in person is set forth,
With strong and mighty preparation. Of all our purposes. What say you to it? Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
son, Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off: The nimble-footed mad-cap prince of Wales, And yet, in faith, 'tis not ; his present want And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside, Seems more than we shall find it:-Were it good, And bid it pass ? To set the exact wealth of all our states
Ver. All furnish’d, all in arms, All at one cast? to set so rich a main
All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind; On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour? Bated like eagles having lately bath’d; It were not good : for therein should we read Glittering in golden coats, like images; The very bottom and the soul of hope ; As full of spirit as the month of May, The very list, the very utmost bound
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer ; Of all our fortunes.
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. Doug. Faith, and so we should ;
I saw young Harry,--with his beaver on, Where now remains a sweet reversion :
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, We may boldly spend upon the hope of what Rise from the ground like feather'a Mercury, Is to come in :
And vaulted with such ease into his seat, A comfort of retirement lives in this.
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, If that the devil and mischance look big And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
Hot. No more, no more ; worse than the sun Wor. But yet, I would your father had been in March, here.
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come; The quality and hair of our attempt
They come like sacrifices in their trim, Brooks no division: It will be thought
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war, By some, that know not why he is away, All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them: That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit, Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence; Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire, And think, how such an apprehension
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh, May turn the tide of fearful faction,
And yet not ours :—Come, let me take my horse, And breed a kind of question in our cause: Who is to bear me, like a thunderbolt, For, well you know, we of the offering side Against the bosom of the prince of Wales : Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement; Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse, And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a corse. The eye of reason may pry in upon us :
0, that Glendower were come! This absence of your father's draws a curtain, Ver. There is more news : That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
I learn’d in Worcester, as I rode along, Before not dreamt of.
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.