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History of Henry IV, Part II

Act 0

#Scene 1

Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle

#Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues

#Rumour. Open your ears; for which of you will stopThe vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?I, from the orient to the drooping west,Making the wind my post-horse, still unfoldThe acts commenced on this ball of earth.Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,The which in every language I pronounce,Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.I speak of peace while covert emnity,Under the smile of safety, wounds the world;And who but Rumour, who but only I,Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,And no such matter? Rumour is a pipeBlown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,And of so easy and so plain a stopThat the blunt monster with uncounted heads,The still-discordant wav'ring multitude,Can play upon it. But what need I thusMy well-known body to anatomizeAmong my household? Why is Rumour here?I run before King Harry's victory,Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,Quenching the flame of bold rebellionEven with the rebels' blood. But what mean ITo speak so true at first? My office isTo noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fellUnder the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,And that the King before the Douglas' rageStoop'd his anointed head as low as death.This have I rumour'd through the peasant townsBetween that royal field of ShrewsburyAnd this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,And not a man of them brings other newsThan they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tonguesThey bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

Act 1

#Scene 1

Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle

#Enter LORD BARDOLPH

#Lord Bardolph. Who keeps the gate here, ho? [The PORTER opens the gate]Where is the Earl?

#Porter. What shall I say you are?

#Lord Bardolph. Tell thou the EarlThat the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.

#Porter. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard.Please it your honour knock but at the gate,And he himself will answer.

#Enter NORTHUMBERLAND

#Lord Bardolph. Here comes the Earl. Exit PORTER

#Earl of Northumberland. What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute nowShould be the father of some stratagem.The times are wild; contention, like a horseFull of high feeding, madly hath broke looseAnd bears down all before him.

#Lord Bardolph. Noble Earl,I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.

#Earl of Northumberland. Good, an God will!

#Lord Bardolph. As good as heart can wish.The King is almost wounded to the death;And, in the fortune of my lord your son,Prince Harry slain outright; and both the BluntsKill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John,And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,Came not till now to dignify the times,Since Cxsar's fortunes!

#Earl of Northumberland. How is this deriv'd?Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?

#Lord Bardolph. I spake with one, my lord, that came fromA gentleman well bred and of good name,That freely rend'red me these news for true.

#Enter TRAVERS

#Earl of Northumberland. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sentOn Tuesday last to listen after news.

#Lord Bardolph. My lord, I over-rode him on the way;And he is furnish'd with no certaintiesMore than he haply may retail from me.

#Earl of Northumberland. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?

#Travers. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me backWith joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,Out-rode me. After him came spurring hardA gentleman, almost forspent with speed,That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse.He ask'd the way to Chester; and of himI did demand what news from Shrewsbury.He told me that rebellion had bad luck,And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.With that he gave his able horse the headAnd, bending forward, struck his armed heelsAgainst the panting sides of his poor jadeUp to the rowel-head; and starting so,He seem'd in running to devour the way,Staying no longer question.

#Earl of Northumberland. Ha! Again:Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellionHad met ill luck?

#Lord Bardolph. My lord, I'll tell you what:If my young lord your son have not the day,Upon mine honour, for a silken pointI'll give my barony. Never talk of it.

#Earl of Northumberland. Why should that gentleman that rode by TraversGive then such instances of loss?

#Lord Bardolph. Who--he?He was some hilding fellow that had stol'nThe horse he rode on and, upon my life,Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.

#Enter Morton

#Earl of Northumberland. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.So looks the strand whereon the imperious floodHath left a witness'd usurpation.Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?

#Morton. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;Where hateful death put on his ugliest maskTo fright our party.

#Earl of Northumberland. How doth my son and brother?Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheekIs apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,So dull, so dread in look, so woe-begone,Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of nightAnd would have told him half his Troy was burnt;But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.This thou wouldst say: 'Your son did thus and thus;Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas'--Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds;But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,Ending with 'Brother, son, and all, are dead.'

#Morton. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;But for my lord your son--

#Earl of Northumberland. Why, he is dead.See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!He that but fears the thing he would not knowHath by instinct knowledge from others' eyesThat what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;Tell thou an earl his divination lies,And I will take it as a sweet disgraceAnd make thee rich for doing me such wrong.

#Morton. You are too great to be by me gainsaid;Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.

#Earl of Northumberland. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead.I see a strange confession in thine eye;Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sinTo speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:The tongue offends not that reports his death;And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,Not he which says the dead is not alive.Yet the first bringer of unwelcome newsHath but a losing office, and his tongueSounds ever after as a sullen bell,Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.

#Lord Bardolph. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.

#Morton. I am sorry I should force you to believeThat which I would to God I had not seen;But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd,To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat downThe never-daunted Percy to the earth,From whence with life he never more sprung up.In few, his death--whose spirit lent a fireEven to the dullest peasant in his camp--Being bruited once, took fire and heat awayFrom the best-temper'd courage in his troops;For from his metal was his party steeled;Which once in him abated, all the restTurn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.And as the thing that's heavy in itselfUpon enforcement flies with greatest speed,So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,Lend to this weight such lightness with their fearThat arrows fled not swifter toward their aimThan did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,Fly from the field. Then was that noble WorcesterToo soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring swordHad three times slain th' appearance of the King,Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shameOf those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight,Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of allIs that the King hath won, and hath sent outA speedy power to encounter you, my lord,Under the conduct of young LancasterAnd Westmoreland. This is the news at full.

#Earl of Northumberland. For this I shall have time enough to mourn.In poison there is physic; and these news,Having been well, that would have made me sick,Being sick, have in some measure made me well;And as the wretch whose fever-weak'ned joints,Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fireOut of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'd with grief,Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steelMust glove this hand; and hence, thou sickly coif!Thou art a guard too wanton for the headWhich princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.Now bind my brows with iron; and approachThe ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bringTo frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature's handKeep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die!And let this world no longer be a stageTo feed contention in a ling'ring act;But let one spirit of the first-born CainReign in all bosoms, that, each heart being setOn bloody courses, the rude scene may endAnd darkness be the burier of the dead!

#Lord Bardolph. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.

#Morton. Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.The lives of all your loving complicesLean on your health; the which, if you give o'erTo stormy passion, must perforce decay.You cast th' event of war, my noble lord,And summ'd the account of chance before you said'Let us make head.' It was your pre-surmiseThat in the dole of blows your son might drop.You knew he walk'd o'er perils on an edge,More likely to fall in than to get o'er;You were advis'd his flesh was capableOf wounds and scars, and that his forward spiritWould lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;Yet did you say 'Go forth'; and none of this,Though strongly apprehended, could restrainThe stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forthMore than that being which was like to be?

#Lord Bardolph. We all that are engaged to this lossKnew that we ventured on such dangerous seasThat if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one;And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'dChok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd;And since we are o'erset, venture again.Come, we will put forth, body and goods.

#Morton. 'Tis more than time. And, my most noble lord,I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth:The gentle Archbishop of York is upWith well-appointed pow'rs. He is a manWho with a double surety binds his followers.My lord your son had only but the corpse,But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;For that same word 'rebellion' did divideThe action of their bodies from their souls;And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,As men drink potions; that their weapons onlySeem'd on our side, but for their spirits and soulsThis word 'rebellion'--it had froze them up,As fish are in a pond. But now the BishopTurns insurrection to religion.Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,He's follow'd both with body and with mind;And doth enlarge his rising with the bloodOf fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones;Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;And more and less do flock to follow him.

#Earl of Northumberland. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,This present grief had wip'd it from my mind.Go in with me; and counsel every manThe aptest way for safety and revenge.Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed--Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt

#Scene 2

London. A street

#Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, with his PAGE bearing his sword and buckler

#Falstaff. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?

#Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water;for the party that owed it, he might have moe diseases thanknew for.

#Falstaff. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. Thethis foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to inventthat intends to laughter, more than I invent or is inventedme. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit isother men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hathoverwhelm'd all her litter but one. If the Prince put theemy service for any other reason than to set me off, why thenhave no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter toworn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'dan agate till now; but I will inset you neither in gold norsilver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to yourmaster, for a jewel--the juvenal, the Prince your master,chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard grow inpalm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek; and yetwill not stick to say his face is a face-royal. God maywhen he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it stilla face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out ofand yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since hisfather was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he'sout of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dommeltonthe satin for my short cloak and my slops?

#Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assuranceBardolph. He would not take his band and yours; he liked notsecurity.

#Falstaff. Let him be damn'd, like the Glutton; pray God hisbe hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! A rascal-yea-forsoothbear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! Thewhoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, andbunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is throughthem in honest taking-up, then they must stand upon security.had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer toit with security. I look'd 'a should have sent me two andyards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends meWell, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn ofabundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it;yet cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to lightWhere's Bardolph?

#Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship horse.

#Falstaff. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse inSmithfield. An I could get me but a wife in the stews, I weremann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.

#Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE and SERVANT

#Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed thePrince for striking him about Bardolph.

#Falstaff. Wait close; I will not see him.

#Lord Chief Justice. What's he that goes there?

#Servant. Falstaff, an't please your lordship.

#Lord Chief Justice. He that was in question for the robb'ry?

#Servant. He, my lord; but he hath since done good service atShrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge toLord John of Lancaster.

#Lord Chief Justice. What, to York? Call him back again.

#Servant. Sir John Falstaff!

#Falstaff. Boy, tell him I am deaf.

#Page. You must speak louder; my master is deaf.

#Lord Chief Justice. I am sure he is, to the hearing of anythingGo, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him.

#Servant. Sir John!

#Falstaff. What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not wars?there not employment? Doth not the King lack subjects? Do notrebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any sideone, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side,it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.

#Servant. You mistake me, sir.

#Falstaff. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? Settingknighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throathad said so.

#Servant. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and yoursoldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you you in yourthroat, if you say I am any other than an honest man.

#Falstaff. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside thatgrows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thoutak'st leave, thou wert better be hang'd. You hunt counter.Hence! Avaunt!

#Servant. Sir, my lord would speak with you.

#Lord Chief Justice. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

#Falstaff. My good lord! God give your lordship good time ofam glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say yourwas sick; I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Yourlordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet someof age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and Ihumbly beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of yourhealth.

#Lord Chief Justice. Sir John, I sent for you before your expeditionShrewsbury.

#Falstaff. An't please your lordship, I hear his Majesty iswith some discomfort from Wales.

#Lord Chief Justice. I talk not of his Majesty. You would not comesent for you.

#Falstaff. And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fall'n intosame whoreson apoplexy.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well God mend him! I pray you let me speak with

#Falstaff. This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy,please your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, atingling.

#Lord Chief Justice. What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.

#Falstaff. It hath it original from much grief, from study, andperturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of hisin Galen; it is a kind of deafness.

#Lord Chief Justice. I think you are fall'n into the disease, for youhear not what I say to you.

#Falstaff. Very well, my lord, very well. Rather an't pleaseis the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking,I am troubled withal.

#Lord Chief Justice. To punish you by the heels would amend theof your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician.

#Falstaff. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient.lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me inof poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow yourprescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, orindeed a scruple itself.

#Lord Chief Justice. I sent for you, when there were matters againstfor your life, to come speak with me.

#Falstaff. As I was then advis'd by my learned counsel in theof this land-service, I did not come.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in greatinfamy.

#Falstaff. He that buckles himself in my belt cannot live in

#Lord Chief Justice. Your means are very slender, and your waste isgreat.

#Falstaff. I would it were otherwise; I would my means wereand my waist slenderer.

#Lord Chief Justice. You have misled the youthful Prince.

#Falstaff. The young Prince hath misled me. I am the fellow withgreat belly, and he my dog.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well, I am loath to gall a new-heal'd wound.day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over yournight's exploit on Gadshill. You may thank th' unquiet timeyour quiet o'erposting that action.

#Falstaff. My lord--

#Lord Chief Justice. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not asleeping wolf.

#Falstaff. To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox.

#Lord Chief Justice. What! you are as a candle, the better part burntout.

#Falstaff. A wassail candle, my lord--all tallow; if I did saywax, my growth would approve the truth.

#Lord Chief Justice. There is not a white hair in your face buthave his effect of gravity.

#Falstaff. His effect of gravy, gravy,

#Lord Chief Justice. You follow the young Prince up and down, likeill angel.

#Falstaff. Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light; but hopethat looks upon me will take me without weighing. And yet inrespects, I grant, I cannot go--I cannot tell. Virtue is oflittle regard in these costermongers' times that true valourturn'd berod; pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick witwasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts appertinentman, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth agooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities ofthat are young; you do measure the heat of our livers withbitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward ofyouth, must confess, are wags too.

#Lord Chief Justice. Do you set down your name in the scroll ofthat are written down old with all the characters of age?you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a whitedecreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voiceyour wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and everypart about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet callyourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!

#Falstaff. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in theafternoon, with a white head and something a round belly. Forvoice--I have lost it with hallooing and singing of anthems.approve my youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am onlyin judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with mea thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him.the box of the ear that the Prince gave you--he gave it likerude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I havehim for it; and the young lion repents--marry, not in ashessackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well, God send the Prince a better companion!

#Falstaff. God send the companion a better prince! I cannot ridhands of him.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well, the King hath sever'd you. I hear you aregoing with Lord John of Lancaster against the Archbishop andEarl of Northumberland.

#Falstaff. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But lookpray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at home, that ourjoin not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but twoout with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If ithot day, and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would Inever spit white again. There is not a dangerous action canout his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot lastbut it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if theyhave a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will needsam an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God mywere not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better toeaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing withperpetual motion.

#Lord Chief Justice. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless yourexpedition!

#Falstaff. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound toforth?

#Lord Chief Justice. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatientbear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousinWestmoreland.

#Exeunt CHIEF JUSTICE and SERVANT

#Falstaff. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man canmore separate age and covetousness than 'a can part youngand lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinchesother; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!

#Page. Sir?

#Falstaff. What money is in my purse?

#Page. Seven groats and two pence.

#Falstaff. I can get no remedy against this consumption of thepurse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but theis incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster;to the Prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this toMistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since Iperceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. About it; you knowwhere to find me. [Exit PAGE] A pox of this gout! or, athis pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with mytoe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for myand my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good witmake use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.

#Scene 3

York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace

#Enter the ARCHBISHOP, THOMAS MOWBRAY the EARL MARSHAL, LORD HASTINGS, and LORD BARDOLPH

#Archbishop Scroop. Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;And, my most noble friends, I pray you allSpeak plainly your opinions of our hopes-And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?

#Lord Mowbray. I well allow the occasion of our amis;But gladly would be better satisfiedHow, in our means, we should advance ourselvesTo look with forehead bold and big enoughUpon the power and puissance of the King.

#Lord Hastings. Our present musters grow upon the fileTo five and twenty thousand men of choice;And our supplies live largely in the hopeOf great Northumberland, whose bosom burnsWith an incensed fire of injuries.

#Lord Bardolph. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:Whether our present five and twenty thousandMay hold up head without Northumberland?

#Lord Hastings. With him, we may.

#Lord Bardolph. Yea, marry, there's the point;But if without him we be thought too feeble,My judgment is we should not step too farTill we had his assistance by the hand;For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,Conjecture, expectation, and surmiseOf aids incertain, should not be admitted.

#Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeedIt was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

#Lord Bardolph. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,Eating the air and promise of supply,Flatt'ring himself in project of a powerMuch smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;And so, with great imaginationProper to madmen, led his powers to death,And, winking, leapt into destruction.

#Lord Hastings. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurtTo lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.

#Lord Bardolph. Yes, if this present quality of war-Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-Lives so in hope, as in an early springWe see th' appearing buds; which to prove fruitHope gives not so much warrant, as despairThat frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,We first survey the plot, then draw the model;And when we see the figure of the house,Then we must rate the cost of the erection;Which if we find outweighs ability,What do we then but draw anew the modelIn fewer offices, or at least desistTo build at all? Much more, in this great work--Which is almost to pluck a kingdom downAnd set another up--should we surveyThe plot of situation and the model,Consent upon a sure foundation,Question surveyors, know our own estateHow able such a work to undergo-To weigh against his opposite; or elseWe fortify in paper and in figures,Using the names of men instead of men;Like one that draws the model of a houseBeyond his power to build it; who, half through,Gives o'er and leaves his part-created costA naked subject to the weeping cloudsAnd waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

#Lord Hastings. Grant that our hopes--yet likely of fair birth--Should be still-born, and that we now possess'dThe utmost man of expectation,I think we are so a body strong enough,Even as we are, to equal with the King.

#Lord Bardolph. What, is the King but five and twenty thousand?

#Lord Hastings. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;For his divisions, as the times do brawl,Are in three heads: one power against the French,And one against Glendower; perforce a thirdMust take up us. So is the unfirm KingIn three divided; and his coffers soundWith hollow poverty and emptiness.

#Archbishop Scroop. That he should draw his several strengths togetherAnd come against us in full puissanceNeed not be dreaded.

#Lord Hastings. If he should do so,He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and WelshBaying at his heels. Never fear that.

#Lord Bardolph. Who is it like should lead his forces hither?

#Lord Hastings. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;But who is substituted against the FrenchI have no certain notice.

#Archbishop Scroop. Let us on,And publish the occasion of our arms.The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.An habitation giddy and unsureHath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.O thou fond many, with what loud applauseDidst thou beat heaven with blessing BolingbrokeBefore he was what thou wouldst have him be!And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of himThat thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorgeThy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him dieAre now become enamour'd on his grave.Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,When through proud London he came sighing onAfter th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accurs'd!Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.

#Lord Mowbray. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?

#Lord Hastings. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.

#Exeunt

Act 2

#Scene 1

London. A street

#Enter HOSTESS with two officers, FANG and SNARE

#Hostess Quickly. Master Fang, have you ent'red the action?

#Fang. It is ent'red.

#Hostess Quickly. Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? Will 'ato't?

#Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare?

#Hostess Quickly. O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.

#Snare. Here, here.

#Fang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.

#Hostess Quickly. Yea, good Master Snare; I have ent'red him and all.

#Snare. It may chance cost some of our lives, for he will stab.

#Hostess Quickly. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabb'd me in minehouse, and that most beastly. In good faith, 'a cares notmischief he does, if his weapon be out; he will foin like anydevil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

#Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.

#Hostess Quickly. No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow.

#Fang. An I but fist him once; an 'a come but within my vice!

#Hostess Quickly. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's aninfinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold himGood Master Snare, let him not scape. 'A comes continuantlyPie-corner--saving your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he isindited to dinner to the Lubber's Head in Lumbert Street, toMaster Smooth's the silkman. I pray you, since my exion isent'red, and my case so openly known to the world, let him bebrought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for alone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne;have been fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, fromday to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. Therehonesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an assa beast, to bear every knave's wrong.[Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, PAGE, and BARDOLPH]Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave,with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang andMaster Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.

#Falstaff. How now! whose mare's dead? What's the matter?

#Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.

#Falstaff. Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph. Cut me off thehead. Throw the quean in the channel.

#Hostess Quickly. Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in theWilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder!thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers andKing's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed; aman-queller and a woman-queller.

#Falstaff. Keep them off, Bardolph.

#Fang. A rescue! a rescue!

#Hostess Quickly. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wot, wotthou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!

#Page. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian!I'll tickle your catastrophe.

#Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE and his men

#Lord Chief Justice. What is the matter? Keep the peace here, ho!

#Hostess Quickly. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to

#Lord Chief Justice. How now, Sir John! what, are you brawling here?Doth this become your place, your time, and business?You should have been well on your way to York.Stand from him, fellow; wherefore hang'st thou upon him?

#Hostess Quickly. O My most worshipful lord, an't please your Grace, Ipoor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.

#Lord Chief Justice. For what sum?

#Hostess Quickly. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all--allhave. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put allsubstance into that fat belly of his. But I will have some ofout again, or I will ride thee a nights like a mare.

#Falstaff. I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have anyvantage of ground to get up.

#Lord Chief Justice. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! What man of goodtemper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you notashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to comeher own?

#Falstaff. What is the gross sum that I owe thee?

#Hostess Quickly. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and thetoo. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet,my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire,Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head forliking his father to singing-man of Windsor--thou didst swearme then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make melady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech,butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly?in to borrow a mess of vinegar, telling us she had a goodprawns, whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I toldthee they were ill for green wound? And didst thou not, whenwas gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiaritysuch poor people, saying that ere long they should call meAnd didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch the thirtyshillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it, if thoucanst.

#Falstaff. My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says up anddown the town that her eldest son is like you. She hath beengood case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her.for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redressagainst them.

#Lord Chief Justice. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted withmanner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not aconfident brow, nor the throng of words that come with suchthan impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a levelconsideration. You have, as it appears to me, practis'd uponeasy yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve yourboth in purse and in person.

#Hostess Quickly. Yea, in truth, my lord.

#Lord Chief Justice. Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her,unpay the villainy you have done with her; the one you may dowith sterling money, and the other with current repentance.

#Falstaff. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply.call honourable boldness impudent sauciness; if a man willcurtsy and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, myduty rememb'red, I will not be your suitor. I say to you I dodesire deliverance from these officers, being upon hastyemployment in the King's affairs.

#Lord Chief Justice. You speak as having power to do wrong; butth' effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman.

#Falstaff. Come hither, hostess.

#Enter GOWER

#Lord Chief Justice. Now, Master Gower, what news?

#Gower. The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of WalesAre near at hand. The rest the paper tells. [Gives a letter]

#Falstaff. As I am a gentleman!

#Hostess Quickly. Faith, you said so before.

#Falstaff. As I am a gentleman! Come, no more words of it.

#Hostess Quickly. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain toboth my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.

#Falstaff. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and for thywalls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of thethe German hunting, in water-work, is worth a thousand ofbed-hangers and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be tenif thou canst. Come, and 'twere not for thy humours, there'sa better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw theaction. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dostknow me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.

#Hostess Quickly. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles;i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la!

#Falstaff. Let it alone; I'll make other shift. You'll be a foolstill.

#Hostess Quickly. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown.I hope you'll come to supper. you'll pay me all together?

#Falstaff. Will I live? [To BARDOLPH] Go, with her, with her;on, hook on.

#Hostess Quickly. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?

#Falstaff. No more words; let's have her.

#Exeunt HOSTESS, BARDOLPH, and OFFICERS

#Lord Chief Justice. I have heard better news.

#Falstaff. What's the news, my lord?

#Lord Chief Justice. Where lay the King to-night?

#Gower. At Basingstoke, my lord.

#Falstaff. I hope, my lord, all's well. What is the news, my

#Lord Chief Justice. Come all his forces back?

#Gower. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster,Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.

#Falstaff. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord?

#Lord Chief Justice. You shall have letters of me presently.Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.

#Falstaff. My lord!

#Lord Chief Justice. What's the matter?

#Falstaff. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?

#Gower. I must wait upon my good lord here, I thank you, goodJohn.

#Lord Chief Justice. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being youtake soldiers up in counties as you go.

#Falstaff. Will you sup with me, Master Gower?

#Lord Chief Justice. What foolish master taught you these manners,John?

#Falstaff. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fooltaught them me. This is the right fencing grace, my lord; taptap, and so part fair.

#Lord Chief Justice. Now, the Lord lighten thee! Thou art a great

#Exeunt

#Scene 2

London. Another street

#Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS

#Henry V. Before God, I am exceeding weary.

#Edward Poins. Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst notattach'd one of so high blood.

#Henry V. Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexionmy greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in medesire small beer?

#Edward Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as toremember so weak a composition.

#Henry V. Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, bytroth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. Butindeed these humble considerations make me out of love withgreatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name,to know thy face to-morrow, or to take note how many pair ofstockings thou hast--viz., these, and those that were thypeach-colour'd ones--or to bear the inventory of thy shirts-one for superfluity, and another for use! But that thetennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebblinen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thounot done a great while, because the rest of thy low countrieshave made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knowsthose that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen shall inheritkingdom; but the midwives say the children are not in thewhereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightilystrengthened.

#Edward Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, youshould talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princesdo so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is?

#Henry V. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?

#Edward Poins. Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.

#Henry V. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than

#Edward Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you willtell.

#Henry V. Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad,my father is sick; albeit I could tell to thee--as to one itpleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend--I couldsad and sad indeed too.

#Edward Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject.

#Henry V. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil'sas thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let thetry the man. But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly that myfather is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou artin reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.

#Edward Poins. The reason?

#Henry V. What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep?

#Edward Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.

#Henry V. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessedfellow to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought inworld keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man wouldme an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipfulthought to think so?

#Edward Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffedFalstaff.

#Henry V. And to thee.

#Edward Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it withown ears. The worst that they can say of me is that I am abrother and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and thosethings, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comesBardolph.

#Enter BARDOLPH and PAGE

#Henry V. And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A had him from meChristian; and look if the fat villain have not transform'dape.

#Bardolph. God save your Grace!

#Henry V. And yours, most noble Bardolph!

#Edward Poins. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you beblushing? Wherefore blush you now? What a maidenlyare you become! Is't such a matter to get a pottle-pot'smaidenhead?

#Page. 'A calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, andcould discern no part of his face from the window. At last Ispied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in thealewife's new petticoat, and so peep'd through.

#Henry V. Has not the boy profited?

#Bardolph. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!

#Page. Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away!

#Henry V. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?

#Page. Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamt she was delivered of afirebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.

#Henry V. A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis,

#[Giving a crown]

#Edward Poins. O that this blossom could be kept from cankers!Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.

#Bardolph. An you do not make him be hang'd among you, theshall have wrong.

#Henry V. And how doth thy master, Bardolph?

#Bardolph. Well, my lord. He heard of your Grace's coming toThere's a letter for you.

#Edward Poins. Deliver'd with good respect. And how doth the martlemas,your master?

#Bardolph. In bodily health, sir.

#Edward Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but thatnot him. Though that be sick, it dies not.

#Henry V. I do allow this well to be as familiar with me as myand he holds his place, for look you how he writes.

#Edward Poins. [Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight'--Every man must knowas oft as he has occasion to name himself, even like thoseare kin to the King; for they never prick their finger butsay 'There's some of the King's blood spilt.' 'How comessays he that takes upon him not to conceive. The answer is asready as a borrower's cap: 'I am the King's poor cousin,

#Henry V. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it fromJaphet. But the letter: [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight,the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince ofgreeting.'

#Edward Poins. Why, this is a certificate.

#Henry V. Peace! [Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romansbrevity.'-

#Edward Poins. He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded.

#Henry V. [Reads] 'I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and Ileave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misusesfavours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sisterRepent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell.Thine, by yea and no--which is as much as to say asthou usest him--JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars,JOHN with my brothers and sisters, and SIR JOHN withall Europe.'

#Edward Poins. My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat

#Henry V. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do youme thus, Ned? Must I marry your sister?

#Edward Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said

#Henry V. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and theof the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your masterLondon?

#Bardolph. Yea, my lord.

#Henry V. Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

#Bardolph. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.

#Henry V. What company?

#Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.

#Henry V. Sup any women with him?

#Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress DollTearsheet.

#Henry V. What pagan may that be?

#Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my

#Henry V. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the townShall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

#Edward Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.

#Henry V. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your masterI am yet come to town. There's for your silence.

#Bardolph. I have no tongue, sir.

#Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it.

#Henry V. Fare you well; go. Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGEThis Doll Tearsheet should be some road.

#Edward Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint AlbansLondon.

#Henry V. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night intrue colours, and not ourselves be seen?

#Edward Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait uponhis table as drawers.

#Henry V. From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It was Jove'scase. From a prince to a prentice? A low transformation! Thatshall be mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh withfolly. Follow me, Ned.

#Exeunt

#Scene 3

Warkworth. Before the castle

#Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY

#Earl of Northumberland. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,Give even way unto my rough affairs;Put not you on the visage of the timesAnd be, like them, to Percy troublesome.

#Lady Northumberland. I have given over, I will speak no more.Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.

#Earl of Northumberland. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;And but my going nothing can redeem it.

#Lady Percy. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!The time was, father, that you broke your word,When you were more endear'd to it than now;When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,Threw many a northward look to see his fatherBring up his powers; but he did long in vain.Who then persuaded you to stay at home?There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!For his, it stuck upon him as the sunIn the grey vault of heaven; and by his lightDid all the chivalry of England moveTo do brave acts. He was indeed the glassWherein the noble youth did dress themselves.He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,Became the accents of the valiant;For those who could speak low and tardilyWould turn their own perfection to abuseTo seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,In diet, in affections of delight,In military rules, humours of blood,He was the mark and glass, copy and book,That fashion'd others. And him--O wondrous him!O miracle of men!--him did you leave--Second to none, unseconded by you--To look upon the hideous god of warIn disadvantage, to abide a fieldWhere nothing but the sound of Hotspur's nameDid seem defensible. So you left him.Never, O never, do his ghost the wrongTo hold your honour more precise and niceWith others than with him! Let them alone.The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

#Earl of Northumberland. Beshrew your heart,Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from meWith new lamenting ancient oversights.But I must go and meet with danger there,Or it will seek me in another place,And find me worse provided.

#Lady Northumberland. O, fly to ScotlandTill that the nobles and the armed commonsHave of their puissance made a little taste.

#Lady Percy. If they get ground and vantage of the King,Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,First let them try themselves. So did your son;He was so suff'red; so came I a widow;And never shall have length of life enoughTo rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,For recordation to my noble husband.

#Earl of Northumberland. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mindAs with the tide swell'd up unto his height,That makes a still-stand, running neither way.Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,But many thousand reasons hold me back.I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt

#Scene 4

London. The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap

#Enter FRANCIS and another DRAWER

#Francis. What the devil hast thou brought there-apple-johns?knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.

#Second Drawer. Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set aof apple-johns before him, and told him there were five moreJohns; and, putting off his hat, said 'I will now take myof these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It ang'redto the heart; but he hath forgot that.

#Francis. Why, then, cover and set them down; and see if thoufind out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hearmusic.

#Enter third DRAWER

#Third Drawer. Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;they'll come in straight.

#Francis. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon;they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir Johnnot know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.

#Third Drawer. By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be anexcellent stratagem.

#Second Drawer. I'll see if I can find out Sneak.

#Exeunt second and third DRAWERS

#Enter HOSTESS and DOLL TEARSHEET

#Hostess Quickly. I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in angood temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily aswould desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red asrose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk toocanaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and itthe blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?

#Doll Tearsheet. Better than I was--hem.

#Hostess Quickly. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold.Lo, here comes Sir John.

#Enter FALSTAFF

#Falstaff. [Singing] 'When Arthur first in court'--Empty theJordan. [Exit FRANCIS]--[Singing] 'And was a worthy king'--now, Mistress Doll!

#Hostess Quickly. Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.

#Falstaff. So is all her sect; and they be once in a calm, theysick.

#Doll Tearsheet. A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfortgive me?

#Falstaff. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.

#Doll Tearsheet. I make them! Gluttony and diseases make them: I make themnot.

#Falstaff. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help tothe diseases, Doll. We catch of you, Doll, we catch of you;that, my poor virtue, grant that.

#Doll Tearsheet. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.

#Falstaff. 'Your brooches, pearls, and ouches.' For to serveis to come halting off; you know, to come off the breach withpike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture uponcharg'd chambers bravely--

#Doll Tearsheet. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

#Hostess Quickly. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two neverbut you fall to some discord. You are both, i' good truth, asrheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear withconfirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and thatyou. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptiervessel.

#Doll Tearsheet. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?There's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him;have not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'llfriends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars; andI shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.

#Re-enter FRANCIS

#Francis. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below and would speak with you.

#Doll Tearsheet. Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither; itthe foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.

#Hostess Quickly. If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith!must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am inname and fame with the very best. Shut the door. There comesswaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to haveswaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.

#Falstaff. Dost thou hear, hostess?

#Hostess Quickly. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes noswaggerers here.

#Falstaff. Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.

#Hostess Quickly. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me; and your ancientswagg'rer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick,debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me--'twas no longerthan Wednesday last, i' good faith!--'Neighbour Quickly,'he--Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then--'Neighboursays he 'receive those that are civil, for' said he 'you arean ill name.' Now 'a said so, I can tell whereupon. 'For''you are an honest woman and well thought on, therefore takewhat guests you receive. Receive' says he 'no swaggeringcompanions.' There comes none here. You would bless you towhat he said. No, I'll no swagg'rers.

#Falstaff. He's no swagg'rer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith;may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He'll notwith a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show ofresistance. Call him up, drawer.

#Exit FRANCIS

#Hostess Quickly. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man mynor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth. Ithe worse when one says 'swagger.' Feel, masters, how Ilook you, I warrant you.

#Doll Tearsheet. So you do, hostess.

#Hostess Quickly. Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspencannot abide swagg'rers.

#Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and PAGE

#Pistol. God save you, Sir John!

#Falstaff. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge youa cup of sack; do you discharge upon mine hostess.

#Pistol. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.

#Falstaff. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly offendher.

#Hostess Quickly. Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I'll drinkmore than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

#Pistol. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.

#Doll Tearsheet. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor,base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldyrogue, away! I am meat for your master.

#Pistol. I know you, Mistress Dorothy.

#Doll Tearsheet. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! Bywine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you playsaucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! youbasket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir?God's light, with two points on your shoulder? Much!

#Pistol. God let me not live but I will murder your ruff for

#Falstaff. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here.Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.

#Hostess Quickly. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

#Doll Tearsheet. Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou notto be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they wouldtruncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before youhave earn'd them. You a captain! you slave, for what? Fora poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,rogue! He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. Acaptain! God's light, these villains will make the word asas the word 'occupy'; which was an excellent good word beforewas ill sorted. Therefore captains had need look to't.

#Bardolph. Pray thee go down, good ancient.

#Falstaff. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.

#Pistol. Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I couldher; I'll be reveng'd of her.

#Page. Pray thee go down.

#Pistol. I'll see her damn'd first; to Pluto's damn'd lake, byhand, to th' infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vileHold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors!we not Hiren here?

#Hostess Quickly. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i'beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

#Pistol. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them withKing Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.Shall we fall foul for toys?

#Hostess Quickly. By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.

#Bardolph. Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl

#Pistol. Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we nothere?

#Hostess Quickly. O' my word, Captain, there's none such here. What thegood-year! do you think I would deny her? For God's sake, bequiet.

#Pistol. Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis.Come, give's some sack.'Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.'Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire.Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there.[Laying down his sword]Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothings?

#Falstaff. Pistol, I would be quiet.

#Pistol. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen thestars.

#Doll Tearsheet. For God's sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endurefustian rascal.

#Pistol. Thrust him down stairs! Know we not Galloway nags?

#Falstaff. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groatNay, an 'a do nothing but speak nothing, 'a shall be nothinghere.

#Bardolph. Come, get you down stairs.

#Pistol. What! shall we have incision? Shall we imbrue?[Snatching up his sword]Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping woundsUntwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!

#Hostess Quickly. Here's goodly stuff toward!

#Falstaff. Give me my rapier, boy.

#Doll Tearsheet. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.

#Falstaff. Get you down stairs.

#[Drawing and driving PISTOL out]

#Hostess Quickly. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping houseI'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrantAlas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked

#Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH

#Doll Tearsheet. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, youwhoreson little valiant villain, you!

#Hostess Quickly. Are you not hurt i' th' groin? Methought 'a made athrust at your belly.

#Re-enter BARDOLPH

#Falstaff. Have you turn'd him out a doors?

#Bardolph. Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir,th' shoulder.

#Falstaff. A rascal! to brave me!

#Doll Tearsheet. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thousweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you whoresonchops. Ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorousHector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times betterthan the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!

#Falstaff. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

#Doll Tearsheet. Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou dost, I'llthee between a pair of sheets.

#Enter musicians

#Page. The music is come, sir.

#Falstaff. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Don. Abragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quick-silver.

#Doll Tearsheet. I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thouwhoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thoufighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch upold body for heaven?Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers

#Falstaff. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head;not bid me remember mine end.

#Doll Tearsheet. Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?

#Falstaff. A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have made apantler; 'a would ha' chipp'd bread well.

#Doll Tearsheet. They say Poins has a good wit.

#Falstaff. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit's as thickTewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is inmallet.

#Doll Tearsheet. Why does the Prince love him so, then?

#Falstaff. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'aquoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks offends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys,jumps upon join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, andhis boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, andno bate with telling of discreet stories; and such otherfaculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, forwhich the Prince admits him. For the Prince himself is suchanother; the weight of a hair will turn the scales betweenavoirdupois.

#Henry V. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

#Edward Poins. Let's beat him before his whore.

#Henry V. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'dlike a parrot.

#Edward Poins. Is it not strange that desire should so many yearsperformance?

#Falstaff. Kiss me, Doll.

#Henry V. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What saysalmanac to that?

#Edward Poins. And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be notto his master's old tables, his note-book, his

#Falstaff. Thou dost give me flattering busses.

#Doll Tearsheet. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

#Falstaff. I am old, I am old.

#Doll Tearsheet. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy ofthem all.

#Falstaff. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receiveThursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'Agrows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.

#Doll Tearsheet. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.hearken a' th' end.

#Falstaff. Some sack, Francis.

#Henry V. [with POINS:] Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]

#Falstaff. Ha! a bastard son of the King's? And art thou nothis brother?

#Henry V. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dostlead!

#Falstaff. A better than thou. I am a gentleman: thou art a

#Henry V. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.

#Hostess Quickly. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcomeLondon. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

#Falstaff. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this lightflesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.

#[Leaning his band upon DOLL]

#Doll Tearsheet. How, you fat fool! I scorn you.

#Edward Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turnto a merriment, if you take not the heat.

#Henry V. YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speakme even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

#Hostess Quickly. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, bytroth.

#Falstaff. Didst thou hear me?

#Henry V. Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away byGadshill. You knew I was at your back, and spoke it ontry my patience.

#Falstaff. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast withinhearing.

#Henry V. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, andthen I know how to handle you.

#Falstaff. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.

#Henry V. Not to dispraise me, and call me pander, andbread-chipper, and I know not what!

#Falstaff. No abuse, Hal.

#Edward Poins. No abuse!

#Falstaff. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. Idisprais'd him before the wicked--that the wicked might notin love with thee; in which doing, I have done the part of acareful friend and a true subject; and thy father is to givethanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no, faith,none.

#Henry V. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice dothmake thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us?she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or isboy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns innose, of the wicked?

#Edward Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

#Falstaff. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable;his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothingroast malt-worms. For the boy--there is a good angel aboutbut the devil outbids him too.

#Henry V. For the women?

#Falstaff. For one of them--she's in hell already, and burnssouls. For th' other--I owe her money; and whether she befor that, I know not.

#Hostess Quickly. No, I warrant you.

#Falstaff. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit forMarry, there is another indictment upon thee for sufferingto be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the whichthink thou wilt howl.

#Hostess Quickly. All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or twowhole Lent?

#Henry V. You, gentlewoman--

#Doll Tearsheet. What says your Grace?

#Falstaff. His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against.

#[Knocking within]

#Hostess Quickly. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door there,Francis.

#Enter PETO

#Henry V. Peto, how now! What news?

#Peto. The King your father is at Westminster;And there are twenty weak and wearied postsCome from the north; and as I came alongI met and overtook a dozen captains,Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.

#Henry V. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blameSo idly to profane the precious time,When tempest of commotion, like the south,Borne with black vapour, doth begin to meltAnd drop upon our bare unarmed heads.Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.

#Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH

#Falstaff. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and wemust hence, and leave it unpick'd. [Knocking within] Moreknocking at the door![Re-enter BARDOLPH]How now! What's the matter?

#Bardolph. You must away to court, sir, presently;A dozen captains stay at door for you.

#Falstaff. [To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.--Farewell,hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men ofmerit are sought after; the undeserver may sleep, when theaction is call'd on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sentaway post, I will see you again ere I go.

#Doll Tearsheet. I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

#Falstaff. Farewell, farewell.

#Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

#Hostess Quickly. Well, fare thee well. I have known thee theseyears, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted

#Bardolph. [Within] Mistress Tearsheet!

#Hostess Quickly. What's the matter?

#Bardolph. [Within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.

#Hostess Quickly. O, run Doll, run, run, good Come. [To BARDOLPH] Shecomes blubber'd.--Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt

Act 3

#Scene 1

Westminster. The palace

#Enter the KING in his nightgown, with a page

#Henry IV. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these lettersAnd well consider of them. Make good speed. Exit pageHow many thousands of my poorest subjectsAre at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down,And steep my senses in forgetfulness?Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,Under the canopies of costly state,And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vileIn loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couchA watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mastSeal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brainsIn cradle of the rude imperious surge,And in the visitation of the winds,Who take the ruffian billows by the top,Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging themWith deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,That with the hurly death itself awakes?Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy reposeTo the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;And in the calmest and most stillest night,With all appliances and means to boot,Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

#Enter WARWICK and Surrey

#Earl of Warwick. Many good morrows to your Majesty!

#Henry IV. Is it good morrow, lords?

#Earl of Warwick. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

#Henry IV. Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?

#Earl of Warwick. We have, my liege.

#Henry IV. Then you perceive the body of our kingdomHow foul it is; what rank diseases grow,And with what danger, near the heart of it.

#Earl of Warwick. It is but as a body yet distempered;Which to his former strength may be restoredWith good advice and little medicine.My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.

#Henry IV. O God! that one might read the book of fate,And see the revolution of the timesMake mountains level, and the continent,Weary of solid firmness, melt itselfInto the sea; and other times to seeThe beachy girdle of the oceanToo wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,And changes fill the cup of alterationWith divers liquors! O, if this were seen,The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,What perils past, what crosses to ensue,Would shut the book and sit him down and die.'Tis not ten years goneSince Richard and Northumberland, great friends,Did feast together, and in two years afterWere they at wars. It is but eight years sinceThis Percy was the man nearest my soul;Who like a brother toil'd in my affairsAnd laid his love and life under my foot;Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of RichardGave him defiance. But which of you was by--[To WARWICK] You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember--When Richard, with his eye brim full of tears,Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy?'Northumberland, thou ladder by the whichMy cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne'--Though then, God knows, I had no such intentBut that necessity so bow'd the stateThat I and greatness were compell'd to kiss--'The time shall come'--thus did he follow it--'The time will come that foul sin, gathering head,Shall break into corruption' so went on,Foretelling this same time's conditionAnd the division of our amity.

#Earl of Warwick. There is a history in all men's lives,Figuring the natures of the times deceas'd;The which observ'd, a man may prophesy,With a near aim, of the main chance of thingsAs yet not come to life, who in their seedsAnd weak beginning lie intreasured.Such things become the hatch and brood of time;And, by the necessary form of this,King Richard might create a perfect guessThat great Northumberland, then false to him,Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;Which should not find a ground to root uponUnless on you.

#Henry IV. Are these things then necessities?Then let us meet them like necessities;And that same word even now cries out on us.They say the Bishop and NorthumberlandAre fifty thousand strong.

#Earl of Warwick. It cannot be, my lord.Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,The numbers of the feared. Please it your GraceTo go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,The powers that you already have sent forthShall bring this prize in very easily.To comfort you the more, I have receiv'dA certain instance that Glendower is dead.Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill;And these unseasoned hours perforce must adUnto your sickness.

#Henry IV. I will take your counsel.And, were these inward wars once out of hand,We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. Exeunt

#Scene 2

Gloucestershire. Before Justice, SHALLOW'S house

#Enter SHALLOW and SILENCE, meeting; MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULLCALF, and servants behind

#Robert Shallow. Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, sir;your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by the rood! And how dothgood cousin Silence?

#Silence. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. And how doth my cousin, your bed-fellow? and yourdaughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?

#Silence. Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow!

#Robert Shallow. By yea and no, sir. I dare say my cousin William isa good scholar; he is at Oxford still, is he not?

#Silence. Indeed, sir, to my cost.

#Robert Shallow. 'A must, then, to the Inns o' Court shortly. I wasClement's Inn; where I think they will talk of mad Shallow

#Silence. You were call'd 'lusty Shallow' then, cousin.

#Robert Shallow. By the mass, I was call'd anything; and I would haveanything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and littleJohn Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, andPickbone, and Will Squele a Cotsole man--you had not fourswinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again. And I may sayyou we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best ofall at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John,and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

#Silence. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon aboutsoldiers?

#Robert Shallow. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him breakScoggin's head at the court gate, when 'a was a crack nothigh; and the very same day did I fight with one SampsonStockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, thedays that I have spent! and to see how many of my oldacquaintance are dead!

#Silence. We shall all follow, cousin.

#Robert Shallow. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure. Death, asPsalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a goodof bullocks at Stamford fair?

#Silence. By my troth, I was not there.

#Robert Shallow. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living

#Silence. Dead, sir.

#Robert Shallow. Jesu, Jesu, dead! drew a good bow; and dead! 'A shot afine shoot. John a Gaunt loved him well, and betted muchhis head. Dead! 'A would have clapp'd i' th' clout at twelvescore, and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen andand a half, that it would have done a man's heart good toHow a score of ewes now?

#Silence. Thereafter as they be--a score of good ewes may beten pounds.

#Robert Shallow. And is old Double dead?

#Enter BARDOLPH, and one with him

#Silence. Here come two of Sir John Falstaffs men, as I think.

#Robert Shallow. Good morrow, honest gentlemen.

#Bardolph. I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?

#Robert Shallow. I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of thisand one of the King's justices of the peace. What is yourpleasure with me?

#Bardolph. My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, SirJohn Falstaff--a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a mostleader.

#Robert Shallow. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good back-swordHow doth the good knight? May I ask how my lady his wife

#Bardolph. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated thanwife.

#Robert Shallow. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well saidtoo. 'Better accommodated!' It is good; yea, indeed, is it.phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.'Accommodated!' It comes of accommodo. Very good; a good

#Bardolph. Pardon, sir; I have heard the word. 'Phrase' call youBy this day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain thewith my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word ofgood command, by heaven. Accommodated: that is, when a manthey say, accommodated; or, when a man is being-whereby 'athought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.

#Enter FALSTAFF

#Robert Shallow. It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir John. Giveyour good hand, give me your worship's good hand. By myyou like well and bear your years very well. Welcome, goodJohn.

#Falstaff. I am glad to see you well, good Master RobertMaster Surecard, as I think?

#Robert Shallow. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.

#Falstaff. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be ofpeace.

#Silence. Your good worship is welcome.

#Falstaff. Fie! this is hot weather. Gentlemen, have youhere half a dozen sufficient men?

#Robert Shallow. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?

#Falstaff. Let me see them, I beseech you.

#Robert Shallow. Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Where's the roll?me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so,--so, so--yea,marry, sir. Rafe Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let themso, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?

#Ralph Mouldy. Here, an't please you.

#Robert Shallow. What think you, Sir John? A good-limb'd fellow; young,strong, and of good friends.

#Falstaff. Is thy name Mouldy?

#Ralph Mouldy. Yea, an't please you.

#Falstaff. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.

#Robert Shallow. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith! Things that aremouldy lack use. Very singular good! In faith, well said, SirJohn; very well said.

#Falstaff. Prick him.

#Ralph Mouldy. I was prick'd well enough before, an you could have letalone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do herand her drudgery. You need not to have prick'd me; there areother men fitter to go out than I.

#Falstaff. Go to; peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it isyou were spent.

#Ralph Mouldy. Spent!

#Robert Shallow. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; know you where youFor th' other, Sir John--let me see. Simon Shadow!

#Falstaff. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He's likea cold soldier.

#Robert Shallow. Where's Shadow?

#Simon Shadow. Here, sir.

#Falstaff. Shadow, whose son art thou?

#Simon Shadow. My mother's son, sir.

#Falstaff. Thy mother's son! Like enough; and thy father'sSo the son of the female is the shadow of the male. It isso indeed; but much of the father's substance!

#Robert Shallow. Do you like him, Sir John?

#Falstaff. Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him; for we havenumber of shadows fill up the muster-book.

#Robert Shallow. Thomas Wart!

#Falstaff. Where's he?

#Thomas Wart. Here, sir.

#Falstaff. Is thy name Wart?

#Thomas Wart. Yea, sir.

#Falstaff. Thou art a very ragged wart.

#Robert Shallow. Shall I prick him, Sir John?

#Falstaff. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built uponback, and the whole frame stands upon pins. Prick him no

#Robert Shallow. Ha, ha, ha! You can do it, sir; you can do it. Iyou well. Francis Feeble!

#Francis Feeble. Here, sir.

#Falstaff. What trade art thou, Feeble?

#Francis Feeble. A woman's tailor, sir.

#Robert Shallow. Shall I prick him, sir?

#Falstaff. You may; but if he had been a man's tailor, he'd ha'prick'd you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy'sthou hast done in a woman's petticoat?

#Francis Feeble. I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.

#Falstaff. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageousFeeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or mostmagnanimous mouse. Prick the woman's tailor--well, MasterShallow, deep, Master Shallow.

#Francis Feeble. I would Wart might have gone, sir.

#Falstaff. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightsthim and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a privatesoldier, that is the leader of so many thousands. Let thatsuffice, most forcible Feeble.

#Francis Feeble. It shall suffice, sir.

#Falstaff. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next?

#Robert Shallow. Peter Bullcalf o' th' green!

#Falstaff. Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf.

#Peter Bullcalf. Here, sir.

#Falstaff. Fore God, a likely fellow! Come, prick me Bullcalfhe roar again.

#Peter Bullcalf. O Lord! good my lord captain-

#Falstaff. What, dost thou roar before thou art prick'd?

#Peter Bullcalf. O Lord, sir! I am a diseased man.

#Falstaff. What disease hast thou?

#Peter Bullcalf. A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caughtringing in the King's affairs upon his coronation day, sir.

#Falstaff. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. We willaway thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friendsring for thee. Is here all?

#Robert Shallow. Here is two more call'd than your number. You mustbut four here, sir; and so, I pray you, go in with me to

#Falstaff. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarrydinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night inwindmill in Saint George's Field?

#Falstaff. No more of that, Master Shallow, no more of that.

#Robert Shallow. Ha, 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?

#Falstaff. She lives, Master Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. She never could away with me.

#Falstaff. Never, never; she would always say she could notMaster Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. By the mass, I could anger her to th' heart. She wasa bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?

#Falstaff. Old, old, Master Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old;certain she's old; and had Robin Nightwork, by old Nightwork,before I came to Clement's Inn.

#Silence. That's fifty-five year ago.

#Robert Shallow. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that thatknight and I have seen! Ha, Sir John, said I well?

#Falstaff. We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith,John, we have. Our watchword was 'Hem, boys!' Come, let's todinner; come, let's to dinner. Jesus, the days that we haveCome, come.

#Exeunt FALSTAFF and the JUSTICES

#Peter Bullcalf. Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend; andhere's four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. Intruth, sir, I had as lief be hang'd, sir, as go. And yet, formine own part, sir, I do not care; but rather because I amunwilling and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay withfriends; else, sir, I did not care for mine own part so much.

#Bardolph. Go to; stand aside.

#Ralph Mouldy. And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old dame'sstand my friend. She has nobody to do anything about her whenam gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself. You shallforty, sir.

#Bardolph. Go to; stand aside.

#Francis Feeble. By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owea death. I'll ne'er bear a base mind. An't be my destiny, so;an't be not, so. No man's too good to serve 's Prince; and,it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit fornext.

#Bardolph. Well said; th'art a good fellow.

#Francis Feeble. Faith, I'll bear no base mind.

#Re-enter FALSTAFF and the JUSTICES

#Falstaff. Come, sir, which men shall I have?

#Robert Shallow. Four of which you please.

#Bardolph. Sir, a word with you. I have three pound to freeand Bullcalf.

#Falstaff. Go to; well.

#Robert Shallow. Come, Sir John, which four will you have?

#Falstaff. Do you choose for me.

#Robert Shallow. Marry, then--Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and Shadow.

#Falstaff. Mouldy and Bullcalf: for you, Mouldy, stay at homeyou are past service; and for your part, Bullcalf, grow youunto it. I will none of you.

#Robert Shallow. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. They arelikeliest men, and I would have you serv'd with the best.

#Falstaff. Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose aCare I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and bigassemblance of a man! Give me the spirit, Master Shallow.Wart; you see what a ragged appearance it is. 'A shall chargeand discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's hammer,off and on swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer'sAnd this same half-fac'd fellow, Shadow--give me this man. Hepresents no mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as greatlevel at the edge of a penknife. And, for a retreat--howwill this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off! O, give me thespare men, and spare me the great ones. Put me a caliver intoWart's hand, Bardolph.

#Bardolph. Hold, Wart. Traverse--thus, thus, thus.

#Falstaff. Come, manage me your caliver. So--very well. Go to;good; exceeding good. O, give me always a little, lean, old,chopt, bald shot. Well said, i' faith, Wart; th'art a goodHold, there's a tester for thee.

#Robert Shallow. He is not his craft's master, he doth not do it right.remember at Mile-end Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn--Ithen Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show--there was a little quiverfellow, and 'a would manage you his piece thus; and 'a wouldabout and about, and come you in and come you in. 'Rah, tah,tah!' would 'a say; 'Bounce!' would 'a say; and away again'a go, and again would 'a come. I shall ne'er see such a

#Falstaff. These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God keepMaster Silence, I will not use many words with you: Fare youwell! Gentlemen both, I thank you. I must a dozen mileBardolph, give the soldiers coats.

#Robert Shallow. Sir John, the Lord bless you; God prosper yourGod send us peace! At your return, visit our house; let ouracquaintance be renewed. Peradventure I will with ye to thecourt.

#Falstaff. Fore God, would you would.

#Robert Shallow. Go to; I have spoke at a word. God keep you.

#Falstaff. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. [Exeunt JUSTICES] On,Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt all but FALSTAFF] As Ireturn, I will fetch off these justices. I do see the bottom ofjustice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to thisvice of lying! This same starv'd justice hath done nothing butprate to me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hathdone about Turnbull Street; and every third word a lie, duer paidto the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him atClement's Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring.When 'a was naked, he was for all the world like a fork'd radish,with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife. 'A was soforlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible. 'Awas the very genius of famine; yet lecherous as a monkey, and thewhores call'd him mandrake. 'A came ever in the rearward of thefashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutch'd huswifes thathe heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies orhis good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger become a squire,and talks as familiarly of John a Gaunt as if he had been swornbrother to him; and I'll be sworn 'a ne'er saw him but once inthe Tiltyard; and then he burst his head for crowding among themarshal's men. I saw it, and told John a Gaunt he beat his ownname; for you might have thrust him and all his apparel into aneel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him, acourt--and now has he land and beeves. Well, I'll be acquaintedwith him if I return; and 't shall go hard but I'll make him aphilosopher's two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait forthe old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snapat him. Let time shape, and there an end. Exit

Act 4

#Scene 1

Yorkshire. Within the Forest of Gaultree

#Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, MOWBRAY, HASTINGS, and others

#Archbishop Scroop. What is this forest call'd

#Lord Hastings. 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an't shall please your Grace.

#Archbishop Scroop. Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers forthTo know the numbers of our enemies.

#Lord Hastings. We have sent forth already.

#Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis well done.My friends and brethren in these great affairs,I must acquaint you that I have receiv'dNew-dated letters from Northumberland;Their cold intent, tenour, and substance, thus:Here doth he wish his person, with such powersAs might hold sortance with his quality,The which he could not levy; whereuponHe is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes,To Scotland; and concludes in hearty prayersThat your attempts may overlive the hazardAnd fearful meeting of their opposite.

#Lord Mowbray. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch groundAnd dash themselves to pieces.

#Enter A MESSENGER

#Lord Hastings. Now, what news?

#Messenger. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,In goodly form comes on the enemy;And, by the ground they hide, I judge their numberUpon or near the rate of thirty thousand.

#Lord Mowbray. The just proportion that we gave them out.Let us sway on and face them in the field.

#Enter WESTMORELAND

#Archbishop Scroop. What well-appointed leader fronts us here?

#Lord Mowbray. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Health and fair greeting from our general,The Prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster.

#Archbishop Scroop. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace,What doth concern your coming.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Then, my lord,Unto your Grace do I in chief addressThe substance of my speech. If that rebellionCame like itself, in base and abject routs,Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags,And countenanc'd by boys and beggary-I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'dIn his true, native, and most proper shape,You, reverend father, and these noble lords,Had not been here to dress the ugly formOf base and bloody insurrectionWith your fair honours. You, Lord Archbishop,Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd,Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd,Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd,Whose white investments figure innocence,The dove, and very blessed spirit of peace-Wherefore you do so ill translate yourselfOut of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war;Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,Your pens to lances, and your tongue divineTo a loud trumpet and a point of war?

#Archbishop Scroop. Wherefore do I this? So the question stands.Briefly to this end: we are all diseas'dAnd with our surfeiting and wanton hoursHave brought ourselves into a burning fever,And we must bleed for it; of which diseaseOur late King, Richard, being infected, died.But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland,I take not on me here as a physician;Nor do I as an enemy to peaceTroop in the throngs of military men;But rather show awhile like fearful warTo diet rank minds sick of happiness,And purge th' obstructions which begin to stopOur very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.I have in equal balance justly weigh'dWhat wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,And find our griefs heavier than our offences.We see which way the stream of time doth runAnd are enforc'd from our most quiet thereBy the rough torrent of occasion;And have the summary of all our griefs,When time shall serve, to show in articles;Which long ere this we offer'd to the King,And might by no suit gain our audience:When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs,We are denied access unto his person,Even by those men that most have done us wrong.The dangers of the days but newly gone,Whose memory is written on the earthWith yet appearing blood, and the examplesOf every minute's instance, present now,Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms;Not to break peace, or any branch of it,But to establish here a peace indeed,Concurring both in name and quality.

#Earl of Westmoreland. When ever yet was your appeal denied;Wherein have you been galled by the King;What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on youThat you should seal this lawless bloody bookOf forg'd rebellion with a seal divine,And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?

#Archbishop Scroop. My brother general, the commonwealth,To brother horn an household cruelty,I make my quarrel in particular.

#Earl of Westmoreland. There is no need of any such redress;Or if there were, it not belongs to you.

#Lord Mowbray. Why not to him in part, and to us allThat feel the bruises of the days before,And suffer the condition of these timesTo lay a heavy and unequal handUpon our honours?

#Earl of Westmoreland. O my good Lord Mowbray,Construe the times to their necessities,And you shall say, indeed, it is the time,And not the King, that doth you injuries.Yet, for your part, it not appears to me,Either from the King or in the present time,That you should have an inch of any groundTo build a grief on. Were you not restor'dTo all the Duke of Norfolk's signiories,Your noble and right well-rememb'red father's?

#Lord Mowbray. What thing, in honour, had my father lostThat need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me?The King that lov'd him, as the state stood then,Was force perforce compell'd to banish him,And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he,Being mounted and both roused in their seats,Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,And the loud trumpet blowing them together--Then, then, when there was nothing could have stay'dMy father from the breast of Bolingbroke,O, when the King did throw his warder down--His own life hung upon the staff he threw--Then threw he down himself, and all their livesThat by indictment and by dint of swordHave since miscarried under Bolingbroke.

#Earl of Westmoreland. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.The Earl of Hereford was reputed thenIn England the most valiant gentleman.Who knows on whom fortune would then have smil'd?But if your father had been victor there,He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry;For all the country, in a general voice,Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and loveWere set on Hereford, whom they doted on,And bless'd and grac'd indeed more than the King.But this is mere digression from my purpose.Here come I from our princely generalTo know your griefs; to tell you from his GraceThat he will give you audience; and whereinIt shall appear that your demands are just,You shall enjoy them, everything set offThat might so much as think you enemies.

#Lord Mowbray. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer;And it proceeds from policy, not love.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Mowbray. you overween to take it so.This offer comes from mercy, not from fear;For, lo! within a ken our army lies-Upon mine honour, all too confidentTo give admittance to a thought of fear.Our battle is more full of names than yours,Our men more perfect in the use of arms,Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;Then reason will our hearts should be as good.Say you not, then, our offer is compell'd.

#Lord Mowbray. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley.

#Earl of Westmoreland. That argues but the shame of your offence:A rotten case abides no handling.

#Lord Hastings. Hath the Prince John a full commission,In very ample virtue of his father,To hear and absolutely to determineOf what conditions we shall stand upon?

#Earl of Westmoreland. That is intended in the general's name.I muse you make so slight a question.

#Archbishop Scroop. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,For this contains our general grievances.Each several article herein redress'd,All members of our cause, both here and hence,That are insinewed to this action,Acquitted by a true substantial form,And present execution of our willsTo us and to our purposes confin'd-We come within our awful banks again,And knit our powers to the arm of peace.

#Earl of Westmoreland. This will I show the general. Please you, lords,In sight of both our battles we may meet;And either end in peace--which God so frame!-Or to the place of diff'rence call the swordsWhich must decide it.

#Archbishop Scroop. My lord, we will do so. Exit WESTMORELAND

#Lord Mowbray. There is a thing within my bosom tells meThat no conditions of our peace can stand.

#Lord Hastings. Fear you not that: if we can make our peaceUpon such large terms and so absoluteAs our conditions shall consist upon,Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.

#Lord Mowbray. Yea, but our valuation shall be suchThat every slight and false-derived cause,Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,Shall to the King taste of this action;That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,We shall be winnow'd with so rough a windThat even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,And good from bad find no partition.

#Archbishop Scroop. No, no, my lord. Note this: the King is wearyOf dainty and such picking grievances;For he hath found to end one doubt by deathRevives two greater in the heirs of life;And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,And keep no tell-tale to his memoryThat may repeat and history his losTo new remembrance. For full well he knowsHe cannot so precisely weed this landAs his misdoubts present occasion:His foes are so enrooted with his friendsThat, plucking to unfix an enemy,He doth unfasten so and shake a friend.So that this land, like an offensive wifeThat hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes,As he is striking, holds his infant up,And hangs resolv'd correction in the armThat was uprear'd to execution.

#Lord Hastings. Besides, the King hath wasted all his rodsOn late offenders, that he now doth lackThe very instruments of chastisement;So that his power, like to a fangless lion,May offer, but not hold.

#Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis very true;And therefore be assur'd, my good Lord Marshal,If we do now make our atonement well,Our peace will, like a broken limb united,Grow stronger for the breaking.

#Lord Mowbray. Be it so.Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.

#Re-enter WESTMORELAND

#Earl of Westmoreland. The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth yourTo meet his Grace just distance 'tween our armies?

#Lord Mowbray. Your Grace of York, in God's name then, set forward.

#Archbishop Scroop. Before, and greet his Grace. My lord, we come.

#Exeunt

#Scene 2

Another part of the forest

#Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, attended; afterwards, the ARCHBISHOP, HASTINGS, and others; from the other side, PRINCE JOHN of LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, OFFICERS, and others

#Prince John. You are well encount'red here, my cousin Mowbray.Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop;And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.My Lord of York, it better show'd with youWhen that your flock, assembled by the bell,Encircled you to hear with reverenceYour exposition on the holy textThan now to see you here an iron man,Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,Turning the word to sword, and life to death.That man that sits within a monarch's heartAnd ripens in the sunshine of his favour,Would he abuse the countenance of the king,Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroachIn shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord Bishop,It is even so. Who hath not heard it spokenHow deep you were within the books of God?To us the speaker in His parliament,To us th' imagin'd voice of God himself,The very opener and intelligencerBetween the grace, the sanctities of heaven,And our dull workings. O, who shall believeBut you misuse the reverence of your place,Employ the countenance and grace of heav'nAs a false favourite doth his prince's name,In deeds dishonourable? You have ta'en up,Under the counterfeited zeal of God,The subjects of His substitute, my father,And both against the peace of heaven and himHave here up-swarm'd them.

#Archbishop Scroop. Good my Lord of Lancaster,I am not here against your father's peace;But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,The time misord'red doth, in common sense,Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous formTo hold our safety up. I sent your GraceThe parcels and particulars of our grief,The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,Whereon this hydra son of war is born;Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleepWith grant of our most just and right desires;And true obedience, of this madness cur'd,Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

#Lord Mowbray. If not, we ready are to try our fortunesTo the last man.

#Lord Hastings. And though we here fall down,We have supplies to second our attempt.If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;And so success of mischief shall be born,And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel upWhiles England shall have generation.

#Prince John. YOU are too shallow, Hastings, much to shallow,To sound the bottom of the after-times.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directlyHow far forth you do like their articles.

#Prince John. I like them all and do allow them well;And swear here, by the honour of my blood,My father's purposes have been mistook;And some about him have too lavishlyWrested his meaning and authority.My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,Discharge your powers unto their several counties,As we will ours; and here, between the armies,Let's drink together friendly and embrace,That all their eyes may bear those tokens homeOf our restored love and amity.

#Archbishop Scroop. I take your princely word for these redresses.

#Prince John. I give it you, and will maintain my word;And thereupon I drink unto your Grace.

#Lord Hastings. Go, Captain, and deliver to the armyThis news of peace. Let them have pay, and part.I know it will please them. Hie thee, Captain.

#Exit Officer

#Archbishop Scroop. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.

#Earl of Westmoreland. I pledge your Grace; and if you knew what painsI have bestow'd to breed this present peace,You would drink freely; but my love to yeShall show itself more openly hereafter.

#Archbishop Scroop. I do not doubt you.

#Earl of Westmoreland. I am glad of it.Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.

#Lord Mowbray. You wish me health in very happy season,For I am on the sudden something ill.

#Archbishop Scroop. Against ill chances men are ever merry;But heaviness foreruns the good event.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrowServes to say thus, 'Some good thing comes to-morrow.'

#Archbishop Scroop. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.

#Lord Mowbray. So much the worse, if your own rule be true.

#[Shouts within]

#Prince John. The word of peace is rend'red. Hark, how they

#Lord Mowbray. This had been cheerful after victory.

#Archbishop Scroop. A peace is of the nature of a conquest;For then both parties nobly are subdu'd,And neither party loser.

#Prince John. Go, my lord,And let our army be discharged too.[Exit WESTMORELAND]And, good my lord, so please you let our trainsMarch by us, that we may peruse the menWe should have cop'd withal.

#Archbishop Scroop. Go, good Lord Hastings,And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.

#Exit HASTINGS

#Prince John. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together.[Re-enter WESTMORELAND]Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?

#Earl of Westmoreland. The leaders, having charge from you to stand,Will not go off until they hear you speak.

#Prince John. They know their duties.

#Re-enter HASTINGS

#Lord Hastings. My lord, our army is dispers'd already.Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their coursesEast, west, north, south; or like a school broke up,Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.

#Earl of Westmoreland. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the whichI do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason;And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,Of capital treason I attach you both.

#Lord Mowbray. Is this proceeding just and honourable?

#Earl of Westmoreland. Is your assembly so?

#Archbishop Scroop. Will you thus break your faith?

#Prince John. I pawn'd thee none:I promis'd you redress of these same grievancesWhereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,I will perform with a most Christian care.But for you, rebels--look to taste the dueMeet for rebellion and such acts as yours.Most shallowly did you these arms commence,Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.Strike up our drums, pursue the scatt'red stray.God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.Some guard these traitors to the block of death,Treason's true bed and yielder-up of breath. Exeunt

#Scene 3

Another part of the forest

#Alarum; excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLVILLE, meeting

#Falstaff. What's your name, sir? Of what condition are you, andwhat place, I pray?

#Sir John Colville. I am a knight sir; and my name is Colville of the

#Falstaff. Well then, Colville is your name, a knight is yourdegree, and your place the Dale. Colville shall still be yourname, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place--adeep enough; so shall you be still Colville of the Dale.

#Sir John Colville. Are not you Sir John Falstaff?

#Falstaff. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do you yield,sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are theof thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rousefear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

#Sir John Colville. I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in thatyield me.

#Falstaff. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly ofand not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but myAn I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply theactive fellow in Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.Here comes our general.

#Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, BLUNT, and others

#Prince John. The heat is past; follow no further now.Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.[Exit WESTMORELAND]Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?When everything is ended, then you come.These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,One time or other break some gallows' back.

#Falstaff. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: Iknew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Dothink me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in my poorold motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hitherthe very extremest inch of possibility; I have found'red ninescore and odd posts; and here, travel tainted as I am, have,my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colville of theDale,a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what ofHe saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with thefellow of Rome-I came, saw, and overcame.

#Prince John. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

#Falstaff. I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him; and Ibeseech your Grace, let it be book'd with the rest of thisdeeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular balladelse, with mine own picture on the top on't, Colville kissingfoot; to the which course if I be enforc'd, if you do not allshow like gilt twopences to me, and I, in the clear sky ofo'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders ofelement, which show like pins' heads to her, believe not theof the noble. Therefore let me have right, and let desert

#Prince John. Thine's too heavy to mount.

#Falstaff. Let it shine, then.

#Prince John. Thine's too thick to shine.

#Falstaff. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do meand call it what you will.

#Prince John. Is thy name Colville?

#Sir John Colville. It is, my lord.

#Prince John. A famous rebel art thou, Colville.

#Falstaff. And a famous true subject took him.

#Sir John Colville. I am, my lord, but as my betters areThat led me hither. Had they been rul'd by me,You should have won them dearer than you have.

#Falstaff. I know not how they sold themselves; but thou, like akind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; and I thank thee forthee.

#Re-enter WESTMORELAND

#Prince John. Now, have you left pursuit?

#Earl of Westmoreland. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd.

#Prince John. Send Colville, with his confederates,To York, to present execution.Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.[Exeunt BLUNT and others]And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords.I hear the King my father is sore sick.Our news shall go before us to his Majesty,Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort himAnd we with sober speed will follow you.

#Falstaff. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go throughGloucestershire; and, when you come to court, stand my goodpray, in your good report.

#Prince John. Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition,Shall better speak of you than you deserve.

#Exeunt all but FALSTAFF

#Falstaff. I would you had but the wit; 'twere better than yourdukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy dothlove me; nor a man cannot make him laugh--but that's nohe drinks no wine. There's never none of these demure boysto any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood,making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of malegreen-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches.are generally fools and cowards-which some of us should bebut for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-foldoperation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me therethe foolish and dull and crudy vapours which environ it;apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, anddelectable shapes; which delivered o'er to the voice, thewhich is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The secondyour excellent sherris is the warming of the blood; whichcold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is thebadge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warmsand makes it course from the inwards to the parts extremes.illumineth the face, which, as a beacon, gives warning to allrest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vitalcommoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to theircaptain, the heart, who, great and puff'd up with thisdoth any deed of courage--and this valour comes of sherris.that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for thatit a-work; and learning, a mere hoard of gold kept by a deviltill sack commences it and sets it in act and use. Hereofit that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he didnaturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, sterile,bare land, manured, husbanded, and till'd, with excellentendeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris,that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousandthe first humane principle I would teach them should be toforswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.[Enter BARDOLPH]How now, Bardolph!

#Bardolph. The army is discharged all and gone.

#Falstaff. Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire, and thereI visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I have him alreadytemp'ring between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will Iwith him. Come away. Exeunt

#Scene 4

Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber

#Enter the KING, PRINCE THOMAS OF CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others

#Henry IV. Now, lords, if God doth give successful endTo this debate that bleedeth at our doors,We will our youth lead on to higher fields,And draw no swords but what are sanctified.Our navy is address'd, our power connected,Our substitutes in absence well invested,And everything lies level to our wish.Only we want a little personal strength;And pause us till these rebels, now afoot,Come underneath the yoke of government.

#Earl of Warwick. Both which we doubt not but your MajestyShall soon enjoy.

#Henry IV. Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,Where is the Prince your brother?

#Prince Humphrey. I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at

#Henry IV. And how accompanied?

#Prince Humphrey. I do not know, my lord.

#Henry IV. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him?

#Prince Humphrey. No, my good lord, he is in presence here.

#Prince Thomas. What would my lord and father?

#Henry IV. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.How chance thou art not with the Prince thy brother?He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas.Thou hast a better place in his affectionThan all thy brothers; cherish it, my boy,And noble offices thou mayst effectOf mediation, after I am dead,Between his greatness and thy other brethren.Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love,Nor lose the good advantage of his graceBy seeming cold or careless of his will;For he is gracious if he be observ'd.He hath a tear for pity and a handOpen as day for melting charity;Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he is flint;As humorous as winter, and as suddenAs flaws congealed in the spring of day.His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd.Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth;But, being moody, give him line and scopeTill that his passions, like a whale on ground,Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas,And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends,A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,That the united vessel of their blood,Mingled with venom of suggestion--As, force perforce, the age will pour it in--Shall never leak, though it do work as strongAs aconitum or rash gunpowder.

#Prince Thomas. I shall observe him with all care and love.

#Henry IV. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas?

#Prince Thomas. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.

#Henry IV. And how accompanied? Canst thou tell that?

#Prince Thomas. With Poins, and other his continual followers.

#Henry IV. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;And he, the noble image of my youth,Is overspread with them; therefore my griefStretches itself beyond the hour of death.The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape,In forms imaginary, th'unguided daysAnd rotten times that you shall look uponWhen I am sleeping with my ancestors.For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,When rage and hot blood are his counsellorsWhen means and lavish manners meet together,O, with what wings shall his affections flyTowards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

#Earl of Warwick. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite.The Prince but studies his companionsLike a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language,'Tis needful that the most immodest wordBe look'd upon and learnt; which once attain'd,Your Highness knows, comes to no further useBut to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,The Prince will, in the perfectness of time,Cast off his followers; and their memoryShall as a pattern or a measure liveBy which his Grace must mete the lives of other,Turning past evils to advantages.

#Henry IV. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her combIn the dead carrion.[Enter WESTMORELAND]Who's here? Westmoreland?

#Earl of Westmoreland. Health to my sovereign, and new happinessAdded to that that am to deliver!Prince John, your son, doth kiss your Grace's hand.Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,Are brought to the correction of your law.There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd,But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere.The manner how this action hath been borneHere at more leisure may your Highness read,With every course in his particular.

#Henry IV. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,Which ever in the haunch of winter singsThe lifting up of day.[Enter HARCOURT]Look here's more news.

#Harcourt. From enemies heaven keep your Majesty;And, when they stand against you, may they fallAs those that I am come to tell you of!The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,With a great power of English and of Scots,Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown.The manner and true order of the fightThis packet, please it you, contains at large.

#Henry IV. And wherefore should these good news make me sick?Will Fortune never come with both hands full,But write her fair words still in foulest letters?She either gives a stomach and no food-Such are the poor, in health--or else a feast,And takes away the stomach--such are the richThat have abundance and enjoy it not.I should rejoice now at this happy news;And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy.O me! come near me now I am much ill.

#Prince Humphrey. Comfort, your Majesty!

#Prince Thomas. O my royal father!

#Earl of Westmoreland. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.

#Earl of Warwick. Be patient, Princes; you do know these fitsAre with his Highness very ordinary.Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.

#Prince Thomas. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs.Th' incessant care and labour of his mindHath wrought the mure that should confine it inSo thin that life looks through, and will break out.

#Prince Humphrey. The people fear me; for they do observeUnfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature.The seasons change their manners, as the yearHad found some months asleep, and leapt them over.

#Prince Thomas. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;And the old folk, Time's doting chronicles,Say it did so a little time beforeThat our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died.

#Earl of Warwick. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers.

#Prince Humphrey. This apoplexy will certain be his end.

#Henry IV. I pray you take me up, and bear me henceInto some other chamber. Softly, pray. Exeunt

#Scene 5

Westminster. Another chamber

#The KING lying on a bed; CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others in attendance

#Henry IV. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;Unless some dull and favourable handWill whisper music to my weary spirit.

#Earl of Warwick. Call for the music in the other room.

#Henry IV. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.

#Prince Thomas. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.

#Earl of Warwick. Less noise! less noise!

#Enter PRINCE HENRY

#Henry V. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

#Prince Thomas. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

#Henry V. How now! Rain within doors, and none abroad!How doth the King?

#Prince Humphrey. Exceeding ill.

#Henry V. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.

#Prince Humphrey. He alt'red much upon the hearing it.

#Henry V. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic.

#Earl of Warwick. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet Prince, speak low;The King your father is dispos'd to sleep.

#Prince Thomas. Let us withdraw into the other room.

#Earl of Warwick. Will't please your Grace to go along with us?

#Henry V. No; I will sit and watch here by the King.[Exeunt all but the PRINCE]Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,Being so troublesome a bedfellow?O polish'd perturbation! golden care!That keep'st the ports of slumber open wideTo many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweetAs he whose brow with homely biggen boundSnores out the watch of night. O majesty!When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sitLike a rich armour worn in heat of dayThat scald'st with safety. By his gates of breathThere lies a downy feather which stirs not.Did he suspire, that light and weightless downPerforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleepThat from this golden rigol hath divorc'dSo many English kings. Thy due from meIs tears and heavy sorrows of the bloodWhich nature, love, and filial tenderness,Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.My due from thee is this imperial crown,Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where itWhich God shall guard; and put the world's whole strengthInto one giant arm, it shall not forceThis lineal honour from me. This from theeWill I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit

#Henry IV. Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!

#Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE

#Prince Thomas. Doth the King call?

#Earl of Warwick. What would your Majesty? How fares your Grace?

#Henry IV. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?

#Prince Thomas. We left the Prince my brother here, my liege,Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

#Henry IV. The Prince of Wales! Where is he? Let me see him.He is not here.

#Earl of Warwick. This door is open; he is gone this way.

#Prince Humphrey. He came not through the chamber where we

#Henry IV. Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow?

#Earl of Warwick. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.

#Henry IV. The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go, seek him out.Is he so hasty that he doth supposeMy sleep my death?Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither.[Exit WARWICK]This part of his conjoins with my diseaseAnd helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are!How quickly nature falls into revoltWhen gold becomes her object!For this the foolish over-careful fathersHave broke their sleep with thoughts,Their brains with care, their bones with industry;For this they have engrossed and pil'd upThe cank'red heaps of strange-achieved gold;For this they have been thoughtful to investTheir sons with arts and martial exercises;When, like the bee, tolling from every flowerThe virtuous sweets,Our thighs with wax, our mouths with honey pack'd,We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees,Are murd'red for our pains. This bitter tasteYields his engrossments to the ending father.[Re-enter WARWICK]Now where is he that will not stay so longTill his friend sickness hath determin'd me?

#Earl of Warwick. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knifeWith gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.

#Henry IV. But wherefore did he take away the crown?[Re-enter PRINCE HENRY]Lo where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.

#Exeunt all but the KING and the PRINCE

#Henry V. I never thought to hear you speak again.

#Henry IV. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chairThat thou wilt needs invest thee with my honoursBefore thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignityIs held from falling with so weak a windThat it will quickly drop; my day is dim.Thou hast stol'n that which, after some few hours,Were thine without offense; and at my deathThou hast seal'd up my expectation.Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not,And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it.Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,To stab at half an hour of my life.What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour?Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;And bid the merry bells ring to thine earThat thou art crowned, not that I am dead.Let all the tears that should bedew my hearseBe drops of balm to sanctify thy head;Only compound me with forgotten dust;Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;For now a time is come to mock at form-Harry the Fifth is crown'd. Up, vanity:Down, royal state. All you sage counsellors, hence.And to the English court assemble now,From every region, apes of idleness.Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum.Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,Revel the night, rob, murder, and commitThe oldest sins the newest kind of ways?Be happy, he will trouble you no more.England shall double gild his treble guilt;England shall give him office, honour, might;For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucksThe muzzle of restraint, and the wild dogShall flesh his tooth on every innocent.O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!When that my care could not withhold thy riots,What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?O, thou wilt be a wilderness again.Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!

#Henry V. O, pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,The moist impediments unto my speech,I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebukeEre you with grief had spoke and I had heardThe course of it so far. There is your crown,And he that wears the crown immortallyLong guard it yours! [Kneeling] If I affect it moreThan as your honour and as your renown,Let me no more from this obedience rise,Which my most inward true and duteous spiritTeacheth this prostrate and exterior bending!God witness with me, when I here came inAnd found no course of breath within your Majesty,How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,O, let me in my present wildness die,And never live to show th' incredulous worldThe noble change that I have purposed!Coming to look on you, thinking you dead-And dead almost, my liege, to think you were-I spake unto this crown as having sense,And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee dependingHath fed upon the body of my father;Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,Preserving life in med'cine potable;But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,Accusing it, I put it on my head,To try with it--as with an enemyThat had before my face murd'red my father--The quarrel of a true inheritor.But if it did infect my blood with joy,Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;If any rebel or vain spirit of mineDid with the least affection of a welcomeGive entertainment to the might of it,Let God for ever keep it from my head,And make me as the poorest vassal is,That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!

#Henry IV. O my son,God put it in thy mind to take it hence,That thou mightst win the more thy father's love,Pleading so wisely in excuse of it!Come hither, Harry; sit thou by my bed,And hear, I think, the very latest counselThat ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,By what by-paths and indirect crook'd waysI met this crown; and I myself know wellHow troublesome it sat upon my head:To thee it shall descend with better quiet,Better opinion, better confirmation;For all the soil of the achievement goesWith me into the earth. It seem'd in meBut as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand;And I had many living to upbraidMy gain of it by their assistances;Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fearsThou seest with peril I have answered;For all my reign hath been but as a sceneActing that argument. And now my deathChanges the mood; for what in me was purchas'dFalls upon thee in a more fairer sort;So thou the garland wear'st successively.Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do,Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;By whose fell working I was first advanc'd,And by whose power I well might lodge a fearTo be again displac'd; which to avoid,I cut them off; and had a purpose nowTo lead out many to the Holy Land,Lest rest and lying still might make them lookToo near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,Be it thy course to busy giddy mindsWith foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out,May waste the memory of the former days.More would I, but my lungs are wasted soThat strength of speech is utterly denied me.How I came by the crown, O God, forgive;And grant it may with thee in true peace live!

#Henry V. My gracious liege,You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;Then plain and right must my possession be;Which I with more than with a common pain'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others

#Henry IV. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.

#Prince John. Health, peace, and happiness, to my royal father!

#Henry IV. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John;But health, alack, with youthful wings is flownFrom this bare wither'd trunk. Upon thy sightMy worldly business makes a period.Where is my Lord of Warwick?

#Henry V. My Lord of Warwick!

#Henry IV. Doth any name particular belongUnto the lodging where I first did swoon?

#Earl of Warwick. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.

#Henry IV. Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.It hath been prophesied to me many years,I should not die but in Jerusalem;Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land.But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie;In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt

Act 5

#Scene 1

Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S house

#Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and PAGE

#Robert Shallow. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.What, Davy, I say!

#Falstaff. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.

#Robert Shallow. I will not excuse you; you shall not be excus'd;shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; younot be excus'd. Why, Davy!

#Enter DAVY

#Davy. Here, sir.

#Robert Shallow. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see,Davy; let me see--yea, marry, William cook, bid him comeSir John, you shall not be excus'd.

#Davy. Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and,again, sir--shall we sow the headland with wheat?

#Robert Shallow. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook--are thereyoung pigeons?

#Davy. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing andplough-irons.

#Robert Shallow. Let it be cast, and paid. Sir John, you shall not beexcused.

#Davy. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had;sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages about thelost the other day at Hinckley fair?

#Robert Shallow. 'A shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple ofshort-legg'd hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty littlekickshaws, tell William cook.

#Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?

#Robert Shallow. Yea, Davy; I will use him well. A friend i' th' courtbetter than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; forare arrant knaves and will backbite.

#Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they havemarvellous foul linen.

#Robert Shallow. Well conceited, Davy--about thy business, Davy.

#Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor ofagainst Clement Perkes o' th' hill.

#Robert Shallow. There, is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor.Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.

#Davy. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet Godforbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at hisfriend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak forhimself, when a knave is not. I have serv'd your worshipsir, this eight years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarterbear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a verycredit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend,therefore, I beseech you, let him be countenanc'd.

#Robert Shallow. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about,

#Davy. [Exit DAVY] Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come,with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.

#Bardolph. I am glad to see your worship.

#Robert Shallow. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph.[To the PAGE] And welcome, my tall fellow. Come, Sir John.

#Falstaff. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.[Exit SHALLOW] Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeuntand PAGE] If I were sawed into quantities, I should makedozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. Itwonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men'sspirits and his. They, by observing of him, do bearlike foolish justices: he, by conversing with them, is turnedinto a justice-like serving-man. Their spirits are so marriedconjunction with the participation of society that they flocktogether in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a suitMaster Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation ofbeing near their master; if to his men, I would curry withShallow that no man could better command his servants. It iscertain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage isas men take diseases, one of another; therefore let men takeof their company. I will devise matter enough out of thisto keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out offashions, which is four terms, or two actions; and 'a shallwithout intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slightoath, and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow thathad the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laughhis face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!

#Robert Shallow. [Within] Sir John!

#Falstaff. I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.

#Exit

#Scene 2

Westminster. The palace

#Enter, severally, WARWICK, and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE

#Earl of Warwick. How now, my Lord Chief Justice; whither away?

#Lord Chief Justice. How doth the King?

#Earl of Warwick. Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.

#Lord Chief Justice. I hope, not dead.

#Earl of Warwick. He's walk'd the way of nature;And to our purposes he lives no more.

#Lord Chief Justice. I would his Majesty had call'd me with him.The service that I truly did his lifeHath left me open to all injuries.

#Earl of Warwick. Indeed, I think the young king loves you not.

#Lord Chief Justice. I know he doth not, and do arm myselfTo welcome the condition of the time,Which cannot look more hideously upon meThan I have drawn it in my fantasy.

#Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WESTMORELAND, and others

#Earl of Warwick. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry.O that the living Harry had the temperOf he, the worst of these three gentlemen!How many nobles then should hold their placesThat must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

#Lord Chief Justice. O God, I fear all will be overturn'd.

#Prince John. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.

#Prince Humphrey. [with CLARENCE:] Good morrow, cousin.

#Prince John. We meet like men that had forgot to speak.

#Earl of Warwick. We do remember; but our argumentIs all too heavy to admit much talk.

#Prince John. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

#Lord Chief Justice. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!

#Prince Humphrey. O, good my lord, you have lost a friendAnd I dare swear you borrow not that faceOf seeming sorrow--it is sure your own.

#Prince John. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find,You stand in coldest expectation.I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.

#Prince Thomas. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;Which swims against your stream of quality.

#Lord Chief Justice. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour,Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul;And never shall you see that I will begA ragged and forestall'd remission.If truth and upright innocency fail me,I'll to the King my master that is dead,And tell him who hath sent me after him.

#Earl of Warwick. Here comes the Prince.

#Enter KING HENRY THE FIFTH, attended

#Lord Chief Justice. Good morrow, and God save your Majesty!

#Henry IV. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,Sits not so easy on me as you think.Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear.This is the English, not the Turkish court;Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.Sorrow so royally in you appearsThat I will deeply put the fashion on,And wear it in my heart. Why, then, be sad;But entertain no more of it, good brothers,Than a joint burden laid upon us all.For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,I'll be your father and your brother too;Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I;But Harry lives that shall convert those tearsBy number into hours of happiness.

#Brothers. We hope no otherwise from your Majesty.

#Henry V. You all look strangely on me; and you most.You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

#Lord Chief Justice. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

#Henry V. No?How might a prince of my great hopes forgetSo great indignities you laid upon me?What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison,Th' immediate heir of England! Was this easy?May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten?

#Lord Chief Justice. I then did use the person of your father;The image of his power lay then in me;And in th' administration of his law,Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,Your Highness pleased to forget my place,The majesty and power of law and justice,The image of the King whom I presented,And struck me in my very seat of judgment;Whereon, as an offender to your father,I gave bold way to my authorityAnd did commit you. If the deed were ill,Be you contented, wearing now the garland,To have a son set your decrees at nought,To pluck down justice from your awful bench,To trip the course of law, and blunt the swordThat guards the peace and safety of your person;Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image,And mock your workings in a second body.Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;Be now the father, and propose a son;Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;And then imagine me taking your partAnd, in your power, soft silencing your son.After this cold considerance, sentence me;And, as you are a king, speak in your stateWhat I have done that misbecame my place,My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

#Henry V. You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well;Therefore still bear the balance and the sword;And I do wish your honours may increaseTill you do live to see a son of mineOffend you, and obey you, as I did.So shall I live to speak my father's words:'Happy am I that have a man so boldThat dares do justice on my proper son;And not less happy, having such a sonThat would deliver up his greatness soInto the hands of justice.' You did commit me;For which I do commit into your handTh' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;With this remembrance--that you use the sameWith the like bold, just, and impartial spiritAs you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.You shall be as a father to my youth;My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;And I will stoop and humble my intentsTo your well-practis'd wise directions.And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you,My father is gone wild into his grave,For in his tomb lie my affections;And with his spirits sadly I survive,To mock the expectation of the world,To frustrate prophecies, and to raze outRotten opinion, who hath writ me downAfter my seeming. The tide of blood in meHath proudly flow'd in vanity till now.Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,And flow henceforth in formal majesty.Now call we our high court of parliament;And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,That the great body of our state may goIn equal rank with the best govern'd nation;That war, or peace, or both at once, may beAs things acquainted and familiar to us;In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.Our coronation done, we will accite,As I before rememb'red, all our state;And--God consigning to my good intents-No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,God shorten Harry's happy life one day. Exeunt

#Scene 3

Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S orchard

#Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the PAGE, and DAVY

#Robert Shallow. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, wewill eat a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with aof caraways, and so forth. Come, cousin Silence. And then to

#Falstaff. Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and rich.

#Robert Shallow. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir-marry, good air. Spread, Davy, spread, Davy; well said,

#Falstaff. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is yourserving-man and your husband.

#Robert Shallow. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, SirJohn. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. Avarlet. Now sit down, now sit down; come, cousin.

#Silence. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a--we shall [Singing]Do nothing but eat and make good cheer,And praise God for the merry year;When flesh is cheap and females dear,And lusty lads roam here and there,So merrily,And ever among so merrily.

#Falstaff. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll givea health for that anon.

#Robert Shallow. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.

#Davy. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet sir,Master Page, good Master Page, sit. Proface! What you want inmeat, we'll have in drink. But you must bear; the heart's

#Robert Shallow. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldierbe merry.

#Silence. [Singing]Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;For women are shrews, both short and tall;'Tis merry in hall when beards wag an;And welcome merry Shrove-tide.Be merry, be merry.

#Falstaff. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of thismettle.

#Silence. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.

#Re-enter DAVY

#Davy. [To BARDOLPH] There's a dish of leather-coats for you.

#Robert Shallow. Davy!

#Davy. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. [To BARDOLPH]A cup of wine, sir?

#Silence. [Singing]A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,And drink unto the leman mine;And a merry heart lives long-a.

#Falstaff. Well said, Master Silence.

#Silence. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' th'

#Falstaff. Health and long life to you, Master Silence!

#Silence. [Singing]Fill the cup, and let it come,I'll pledge you a mile to th' bottom.

#Robert Shallow. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st anything andwilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tinyand welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and tothe cabileros about London.

#Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die.

#Bardolph. An I might see you there, Davy!

#Robert Shallow. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together--ha! willnot, Master Bardolph?

#Bardolph. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.

#Robert Shallow. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stickthee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out, 'a; 'tis truebred.

#Bardolph. And I'll stick by him, sir.

#Robert Shallow. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing; be merry.[One knocks at door] Look who's at door there, ho! Who

#Exit DAVY

#Falstaff. [To SILENCE, who has drunk a bumper] Why, now youdone me right.

#Silence. [Singing]Do me right,And dub me knight.Samingo.Is't not so?

#Falstaff. 'Tis so.

#Silence. Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.

#Re-enter DAVY

#Davy. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come fromcourt with news.

#Falstaff. From the court? Let him come in.[Enter PISTOL]How now, Pistol?

#Pistol. Sir John, God save you!

#Falstaff. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

#Pistol. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweetthou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

#Silence. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

#Pistol. Puff!Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,And golden times, and happy news of price.

#Falstaff. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this

#Pistol. A foutra for the world and worldlings base!I speak of Africa and golden joys.

#Falstaff. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

#Silence. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.

#Pistol. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?And shall good news be baffled?Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.

#Robert Shallow. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

#Pistol. Why, then, lament therefore.

#Robert Shallow. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news fromcourt, I take it there's but two ways--either to utter themconceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority.

#Pistol. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die.

#Robert Shallow. Under King Harry.

#Pistol. Harry the Fourth--or Fifth?

#Robert Shallow. Harry the Fourth.

#Pistol. A foutra for thine office!Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King;Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth.When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, likeThe bragging Spaniard.

#Falstaff. What, is the old king dead?

#Pistol. As nail in door. The things I speak are just.

#Falstaff. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robertchoose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol,will double-charge thee with dignities.

#Bardolph. O joyful day!I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

#Pistol. What, I do bring good news?

#Falstaff. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my LordShallow, be what thou wilt--I am Fortune's steward. Get onboots; we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph![Exit BARDOLPH] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withaldevise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, MasterI know the young King is sick for me. Let us take any man'shorses: the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessedthey that have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief

#Pistol. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!'Where is the life that late I led?' say they.Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt

#Scene 4

London. A street

#Enter BEADLES, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET

#Hostess Quickly. No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die,that I might have thee hang'd. Thou hast drawn my shoulder out ofjoint.

#First Beadle. The constables have delivered her over to me; and sheshall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her. There hath beena man or two lately kill'd about her.

#Doll Tearsheet. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what,thou damn'd tripe-visag'd rascal, an the child I now go with domiscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thoupaper-fac'd villain.

#Hostess Quickly. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He would make this abloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her wombmiscarry!

#First Beadle. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again;you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; forthe man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.

#Doll Tearsheet. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have youas soundly swing'd for this--you blue-bottle rogue, you filthyfamish'd correctioner, if you be not swing'd, I'll forswearhalf-kirtles.

#First Beadle. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.

#Hostess Quickly. O God, that right should thus overcome might!Well, of sufferance comes ease.

#Doll Tearsheet. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.

#Hostess Quickly. Ay, come, you starv'd bloodhound.

#Doll Tearsheet. Goodman death, goodman bones!

#Hostess Quickly. Thou atomy, thou!

#Doll Tearsheet. Come, you thin thing! come, you rascal!

#First Beadle. Very well. Exeunt

#Scene 5

Westminster. Near the Abbey

#Enter GROOMS, strewing rushes

#First Groom. More rushes, more rushes!

#Second Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice.

#Third Groom. 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come from thecoronation. Dispatch, dispatch. Exeunt

#Trumpets sound, and the KING and his train pass over the stage. After them enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and page

#Falstaff. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will make theKing do you grace. I will leer upon him, as 'a comes by; and dobut mark the countenance that he will give me.

#Pistol. God bless thy lungs, good knight!

#Falstaff. Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. [To SHALLOW] O, ifI had had to have made new liveries, I would have bestowed thethousand pound I borrowed of you. But 'tis no matter; this poorshow doth better; this doth infer the zeal I had to see him.

#Robert Shallow. It doth so.

#Falstaff. It shows my earnestness of affection-

#Robert Shallow. It doth so.

#Falstaff. My devotion--

#Robert Shallow. It doth, it doth, it doth.

#Falstaff. As it were, to ride day and night; and not tonot to remember, not to have patience to shift me--

#Robert Shallow. It is best, certain.

#Falstaff. But to stand stained with travel, and sweating withdesire to see him; thinking of nothing else, putting allelse in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be donesee him.

#Pistol. 'Tis 'semper idem' for 'obsque hoc nihil est.' 'Tis allevery part.

#Robert Shallow. 'Tis so, indeed.

#Pistol. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liverAnd make thee rage.Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts,Is in base durance and contagious prison;Hal'd thitherBy most mechanical and dirty hand.Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's snake,For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth.

#Falstaff. I will deliver her.

#[Shouts,within, and the trumpets sound]

#Pistol. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds.

#Enter the KING and his train, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE among them

#Falstaff. God save thy Grace, King Hal; my royal Hal!

#Pistol. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of

#Falstaff. God save thee, my sweet boy!

#Henry V. My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man.

#Lord Chief Justice. Have you your wits? Know you what 'tis you

#Falstaff. My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart!

#Henry V. I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!I have long dreamt of such a kind of man,So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane;But being awak'd, I do despise my dream.Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gapeFor thee thrice wider than for other men--Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;Presume not that I am the thing I was,For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,That I have turn'd away my former self;So will I those that kept me company.When thou dost hear I am as I have been,Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,The tutor and the feeder of my riots.Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,As I have done the rest of my misleaders,Not to come near our person by ten mile.For competence of life I will allow you,That lack of means enforce you not to evils;And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,We will, according to your strengths and qualities,Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,To see perform'd the tenour of our word.Set on. Exeunt the KING and his train

#Falstaff. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pounds.

#Robert Shallow. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let mehome with me.

#Falstaff. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grievethis; I shall be sent for in private to him. Look you, heseem thus to the world. Fear not your advancements; I will beman yet that shall make you great.

#Robert Shallow. I cannot perceive how, unless you give me yourand stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John,have five hundred of my thousand.

#Falstaff. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that youwas but a colour.

#Robert Shallow. A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John.

#Falstaff. Fear no colours; go with me to dinner. Come,Pistol; come, Bardolph. I shall be sent for soon at night.

#Re-enter PRINCE JOHN, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, with officers

#Lord Chief Justice. Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet;Take all his company along with him.

#Falstaff. My lord, my lord--

#Lord Chief Justice. I cannot now speak. I will hear you soon.Take them away.

#Pistol. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.

#Exeunt all but PRINCE JOHN and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE

#Prince John. I like this fair proceeding of the King's.He hath intent his wonted followersShall all be very well provided for;But all are banish'd till their conversationsAppear more wise and modest to the world.

#Lord Chief Justice. And so they are.

#Prince John. The King hath call'd his parliament, my lord.

#Lord Chief Justice. He hath.

#Prince John. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,We bear our civil swords and native fireAs far as France. I heard a bird so sing,Whose music, to my thinking, pleas'd the King.Come, will you hence? Exeunt

#EPILOGUE.

#[who says this???] First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My fear, is your

#displeasure; my curtsy, my duty; and my speech, to beg your pardons.

#If you look for a good speech now, you undo me; for what I have

#to say is of mine own making; and what, indeed, I should say will, I doubt,

#prove mine own marring. But to the purpose, and so to the

#venture.

#Be it known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the

#end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it and to

#promise you a better. I meant, indeed, to pay you with this; which if like an

#ill venture it come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle

#creditors, lose. Here I promis'd you I would be, and here I

#commit my body to your mercies. Bate me some, and I will pay you some,

#and, as most debtors do, promise you infinitely; and so I kneel down

#before you--but, indeed, to pray for the Queen.

#If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command

#me to use my legs? And yet that were but light payment--to dance out of

#your debt. But a good conscience will make any possible

#satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen here have

#forgiven me. If the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not agree

#with the gentlewomen, which was never seen before in such an assembly.

#One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloy'd

#with fat meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in

#it, and make you merry with fair Katherine of France; where, for

#anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already 'a

#be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr and

#this is not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will

#bid you good night.

#THE END