June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy lent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundred.most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like, we shall have good trading that way.-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.

fifty, or, by 'rlady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?

P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou father.

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, stand for me, and I'll play dost it half so gravely,

when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.

Fal. Depose me? if thou

so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and ex-up by the heels for a rabbet-sucker, or a poulter's amine me upon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I content :-This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my

crown.

P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre 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 sion, and I will do it in king Camby ses"2 vein. P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.3 Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, bility.

Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith.

hare.

P. Hen. Well, here I am set.

Fal. And here I stand:-judge, my masters.
P. Hen. Now, Harry? whence come you?
Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.

P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.

Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false :-nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith.

P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? hencepas-forth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy no-companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bomroasted Manningtree10 ox with the pudding in his

Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears bard9 of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that

are vain.

Host. O, the father, how he holds his counte-belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that

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.

father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

Fal. would, your grace would take me with you;11 Whom means your grace?

P. Hen. That villanous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. Fal. My lord, the man I know.

P. Hen. I know, thou dost.

Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklebrain. 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 Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him than my own opinion; but chiefly, a villanous trick of in myself, were to say more than I know. That he thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, is old (the more the pity,) his white hairs do witthat doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me,ness it: but that he is (saving your reverence) a here lies the point-Why, being son to me, art whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and suthou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven gar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins: heard of, and it is known to many in our land by but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therereport, doth defile; so doth the company thou fore more valiant, being as he is, old Jack Falstaff, keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in banish not him thy Harry's company; banish plump drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion;Jack, and banish all the world. 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, i'faith, and a corpu

P. Hen. I do, I will.

(A knocking heard. [Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph. Re-enter Bardolph, running. Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door.

Fol. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

(8) The machine which separates flour from bran
(9) A leather black-jack to hold beer.
(10) In Essex, where a large ox was roasted whole.
(11) Go no faster than I can follow.

Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fid- me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow,

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious Shak'd like a coward.

Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me
With telling me of the moldwarpl0 and the ant,
-Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies;
And of a dragon and a finless fish,"
A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,
A couching lion, and a ramping cat,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,—
He held me, but last night, at least nine hours
In reckoning up the several devils' names,
That were his lackeys: I cried, humph,-and
well,-go to,-

But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious
As is a tired horse, a railing wife;

Worse than a smoky house :-I had rather live
With cheese and garlic, in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any summer-house in Christendom.

Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments;12 valiant as a lion,
And wond'rous affable; and as bountiful
it As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himself even of his natural scope,

But mark, how he bears his course, and runs When you do cross his humour; faith, he does:

And since your coming hither have done enough
To put him quite beside his patience.

You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:
Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood
(And that's the dearest grace it renders you,)
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain :
The least of which, baunting a nobleman,
Loseth men's hearts; and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation.

Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be
your speed!

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

Re-enter Glendower, with the Ladies.
Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me,-
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part
with you,

She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
Mort. Good father, tell her,—that she, and my

aunt Percy,

Shall follow in your conduct! speedily.
[Glendower speaks to his daughter in Welsh,

and she answers him in the same.

Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish self. will'd harlotry,

One no persuasion can do good upon.

[Lady M. speaks to Mortimer in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens,

I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
In such a parley would I answer thee.

[Lady M. speaks

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
And that's a feeling disputation:
But I will never be a truant, love,
Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
With ravishing division, to her lute.2

Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
[Lady M. speaks again.
Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this.
Glend. She bids you
Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness;
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep,
As is the difference betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
Begins his golden progress in the east.
Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear her
sing:

By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.
Glend. Do so;

And those musicians that shall play to you,
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence;
Yet straight they shall be here; sit, and attend.
Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down:
Come, quick, quick; that I may lay my head in thy
lap.

Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose.

Hot. Now I perceive, the devil understands
Welsh;

And 'tis no marvel, he's so humorous.
By'r-lady, he's a good musician.

Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical; for you are altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.

Lady P. Would'st thou have thy head broken?
Hot. No.

Lady P. Then be still.

Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault.
Lady P. Now God help thee!
Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed.
Lady P. What's that?
Hot. Peace! she sings.

A Welsh SONG sung by Lady M.
Hot. Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.
Lady P. Not mine, in good sooth.

like a comfit-maker's wife! Not you, in good sooth;
Hot. Not yours, in good sooth! 'Heart, you swear
and, As true as I live; and, As God shall mend
me; and, As sure as day:

And giv'st such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
As if thou never walk'dst further than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady, as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath; and leave in sooth,
To velvet-guards, and Sunday-citizens.
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,

Come, sing.

you.[Exeunt Lords.

I know not whether God will have it so,
For some displeasing service I have done,
That in his secret doom out of my blood
He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
Make me believe, that thou art only mark'd
But thou dost, in thy passages of life,
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven,
To punish my mis-treadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate, and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean at-
tempts,7

Such barren pleasures, rude society,
As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to,
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?
P. Hen So please your majesty, I would, I could

Glendower speaks some Welsh words, and then the Quit all offences with as clear excuse,

music plays.

As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

Myself of many I am charg'd withal:
Yet such extenuation let me beg,
As, in reproof of many tales devis'd,-
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,-
By smiling pick-thanks! and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.

K. Hen. God pardon thee!-yet let me wonder,
Harry,

men,

At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
Which by thy younger brother is supplied;
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court and princes of my blood:
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin'd; and the soul of every man
Prophetically does fore-think thy fall.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney'd in the
So stale and cheap to vulgar company;
eyes of
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession;2
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark, nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir,
But, like a comet, I was wonder'd at:
That men would tell their children, This is he:
Others would say,-Where? which is Bolingbroke?
And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
And dress'd myself in such humility,

That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new ;
My presence, like a robe pontifical,

Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at: and so my state,
Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast;
And won, by rareness, such solemnity.
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin3 wits,
Soon kindled, and soon burn'd: carded his state;
Mingled his royalty with capering fools;
Had his great name profaned with their scorns;
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative :4
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:
That being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey; and began

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes,
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes:
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down,
Slept in his face, and render'd such aspéct
As cloudy men use to their adversaries;
Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full.
And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou :
For thou hast lost thy princely privilege,
With vile participation; not an eye
But is a-weary of thy common sight,

Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more;

(1) Officious parasites.

(2) True to him that had then possession of the

Act III.

Which now doth that I would not have it do,
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
P. Hen. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
Be more myself.
K. Hen.

For all the world,

As thou art to this hour, was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg;
Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,
And even as I was then, is Percy now.
He hath more worthy interest to the state,
Than thou, the shadow of succession;
For, of no right, nor colour like to right,
He doth fill fields with harness in the realm;
Turns head against the lion's armed jaws;
And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on,
To bloody battles, and to bruising arms.
What never-dying honour hath he got
Against renowned Douglas; whose high deeds,
Whose hot incursions, and great name in arms,
Holds from all soldiers chief majority,
And military title capital,

Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ?
Thrice hath this Hotspur Mars in swathing clothes,
This infant warrior in his enterprises
Discomfited great Douglas: ta'en him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
The archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mor-
timer,

Capitulate against us, and are up.

But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?
Thou that art like enough,-through vassal fear,
Base inclination, and the start of spleen,-
To fight against me under Percy's pay,
To dog his heels, and court'sy at his frowns,
To show how much degenerate thou art.

P. Hen. Do not think so, you shall not find it so;
And God forgive them, that have so much sway'd
Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!
I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
And, in the closing of some glorious day,
Be bold to tell you, that I am your son;
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet :
For every honour sitting on his helm,

Would they were multitudes; and on my head
My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
And I will call him to so strict account,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This, in the name of God, I promise here:
The which if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
I do beseech your majesty, may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:
If not, the end of life cancels all bands;9

(3) Brushwood.
(4) Rival. (5) Possessed.
(6) Armour. (7) Combine. (8)Most fatal.
(9) Bonds.