rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it could not be else; I have drunk medicines. - Poins! - Hal ! - a plague upon you both ! - Bardolph ! Peto! I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man, and leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true to one another! [They whistle.] Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged. P. Hen. Peace, lie down; lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers. Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt 7 me thus? Thieves. Stand. Trav. Heaven bless us ! Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats : Ah ! caterpillars ! bacon-fed knaves ! they hate us youth : down with them; fleece them. 1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for ever. Fal. Hang ye, knaves; Are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs 8; I would, your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves? young men must live; You are grand-jurors are ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith. [Exeunt FALS. &c. driving the Travellers out. Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and PoINS. P. Hen. The thieves have bound the true men: Now, could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming. Re-enter Thieves. Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art | to horse before day. An the prince and Poins be uncolted. not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: Fal. I pr'ythee, good prince Hal, help me to my there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild horse : good king's son. Gads. Case ye, case ye: on with your visors there's money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's exchequer. duck. Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the king's SCENE III.-Warkworth. A Room in the Castle. tavern. Gads. There's enough to make us all Fal. To be hanged. P. Hen. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins, and I will walk lower: if they 'scape from your encounter, then they light on us. Peto. How many be there of them? Gads. Some eight, or ten. Fal. Will they not rob us? P. Hen. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal. P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof. Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge; when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast. Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises? [Exeunt P. HENRY and POINS. Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business. Enter Travellers. 1 Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our Enter HOTSPUR, reading a Letter. But, for mine own par!, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your house. - He could be contented, . Why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house - he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous; Why, that's certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink : but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoise of so great an opposition. . Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this? Our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this? Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot awhile, and lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, ease our legs. 7 Make a youngster of me. 8 Clowns. and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are they not, some of them, set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this? an infidel? Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: We are prepared: I will set forward to-night. Enter LADY PERCY. Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone? Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Hot. Not an inch farther. But hark you, Kate! Whither I go, thither shall you go too; SCENE IV. It must, of force. [Exeunt. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS. Poins. Where hast been, Hal? three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst very base string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their Christian names, as- Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that, though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff; but a lad of mettle, a good boy, so they call me; and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned, to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now in my hand by an under-skinker 3; one that never spake other English in his life, than-Eight shillings and sixpence, and - You are welcome; with this shrill addition, Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon, or so. But, Ned, to drive the time till Falstaff come, I pr'ythice, away do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my 3 Tapster. 2 Puppets. Сс Poins. Francis! P. Hen. Thou art perfect. Enter FRANCIS. [Exit POINS. P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman ! — Fran. Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the His industry is-up stairs, and down stairs; his Pomegranate, Ralph. P. Hen. Come hither, Francis. P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis? P. Hen. Five years! by'r lady, a long lease for Fran. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis? shall be Poins. [Within.] Francis! eloquence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet Entar FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO. About Michaelmas next I of sack, boy. - Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, lord. rogue. my P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis: For the sugar thou gavest me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't not? Fran. O, sir! I would it had been two. P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. Poins. [Within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, anon. P. Hen. Anon, Francis? No, Francis: but tomorrow, Francis; or Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis, Fran. My lord? P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, nott-pated, agate-ring, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch, Fran. O sir, who do you mean? : P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard 4 is your only drink for, look you, Francis, your white canvass doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. Fran. What, sir? Poins. [Within.] Francis! P. Hen. Away, you rogue; them call? Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too : There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward.-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgotten upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: Heaven help the while! a bad world, I say! I would, I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any thing: A plague of all cowards, I say still. P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince Dost thou not hear of Wales! [Here they both call him; the Drawer stands Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRAN.] My lord, old Sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in? P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! Re-enter POINS. P. Hen. Why, you round man! what's the matter? Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? Poins. Ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here | them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why have ta'en a thousand pound this morning. P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us. P. Hen. What, a hundred, man? thou knotty-pated fool. Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth? P. Hen. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? come tell us your reason; What sayest thou to this? Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. the doublet; four through the hose; my buckler Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at cut through and through; my sword hacked like a the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on was a man; all would not do. A plague of all cow-compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackards! Let them speak: if they speak more or less berries, I would give no man a reason upon comthan truth, they are villains, and the sons of darkness. pulsion, I. P. Hen. Speak, sirs; how was it? Gads. We four set upon some dozen, Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord. Gads. And bound them. Peto. No, no, they were not bound. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh; Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you stock-fish, - O, for breath Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of to utter what is like thee?—you tailor's yard, you them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us, sheath, you bow-case! P. Hen. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again and when thou hast tired thyself in base Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in comparisons, hear me speak but this. the other. P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged creature. Poins. Pray heaven you have not murdered some of them. Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in ny face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward; here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, P. Hen. What, four? thou saidst but two, even now. Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Fal. In buckram. Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. Fal. Seven by these hilts, or I am a villain else. P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have Poins. Mark, Jack. and P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. · Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house : Falstaff, you ran away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard a bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in fight? What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now? Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life. I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? P. Hen. Content; - and the argument shall be thy running away. Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me. Enter Hostess. Host. My lord, the prince, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men sayst thou to me? grown out of two! Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal 6 green, came at my back, and let drive at me; - for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets 6 A town in Westmoreland famous for making cloth. Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you: he says, he comes from your father. P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother. Fal. What manner of man is he? Host. An old man. Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I give him his answer. P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack. Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. [Exit. P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true prince; no, -fye! Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's sword so hacked? Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like. Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass to make them bleed: and then to beslubber our garments with it, and to swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices. P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner 7, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hast thou for it? Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations? P. Hen. I do. Bard. What think you they portend? Re-enter FALStaff. Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast? 9 How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: here was sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado, What, a plague, call you him? ther's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackarel.— But tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it? P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life. Fal. Shall I? content: This chair shall be my state, this dagger my scepter, and this cushion my crown. P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden scepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown, for a pitiful bald crown. Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses'3 vein. P. Hen. Well, here is my leg. 4 Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, nobility. Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance ! queen, For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players, as I ever see. Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklebrain. 5- Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; - Why, being son to me, art thou so Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; - and his son-in-pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horseback up a hill perpendicular. Poins. O, Glendower. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it. P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running? Fal. O'horseback, ye cuckoo? but afoot, he will not budge a foot. P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps 2 more: Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy faDrunkenness and poverty. 7 In the fact. 9 Bombast is the stuffing of clothes. A dæmon; who is described as one of the four kings, who rule over all the dæmons in the world. Scotsmen in blue bonnets. a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keep'st: for, Harry, now, I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also: And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. P. Hen. What manner of man, an it like your majesty? Fal. A good portly man, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r-lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man 3 A character in a Tragedy by T. Preston, 1570. Name of a strong liquor. 6 A truant boy |