And I will die a hundred thousand deaths, \ignis fatuus, or a ball of wildfire, there's no purEre break the smallest parcel' of this vow. chase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, K. Hen. A hundred thousand rebels die in this :-an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust, herein. a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night, betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me, would have bought me lights as good cheap, at the dearest How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. Blunt. So hath the business that I come to chandler's in Europe. I have maintained that speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,- A mighty and a fearful head they are, As ever offer'd foul play in a state. K. Hen. The earl of Westmoreland set forth With him my son, lord John of Lancaster; salamander of yours with fire, any time this two Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be How now, dame Partlet the hen? have you inquired yet, who pick'd my pocket? Host. Why, sir John! what do you think, sír John? Do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the ac-tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before. Fal. You lie, hostess; Bardolph was shaved, and lost many a hair: and I'll be sworn, my pocket was picked: Go to, you are a woman, go. Host. Who, I? I defy thee: I was never called so in mine own house before. Fal. Go to, I know you well enough. Our business valued, some twelve days hence some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, not forgotten what the inside of a church is made sir John, for your diet, and by drinkings, and of, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse: the inside money lent you, four and twenty pound. of a church! Company, villanous company, hath Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. been the spoil of me. Host. He? aias, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor? look upon his face; What call vou rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his checks; I'll not pay adel not take mine case in mine denier. What, will you make younker of me inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's, worth forty mark. Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. Fal. Why, there is it :-come, sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given, as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough: swore little; diced, not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house, not above once in a quarterof an hour; paid money that I borrowed, three or four times; lived well, and in good compass: and now I live out of all order, out of all compass. Bard. Why, you are so fat, sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass; out of all reasonable compass, sir John. Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: Thou art our admiral,' thou bearest the lantern in the poop,-but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the knight of the burning lamp. Bard. Why, sir John, my face does you no harm. Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a death's head, or a memento mori: I never see thy face, but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be, By this fire: but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. Host. O Jesu! I have heard the prince tell him, know not how oft, that that ring was copper. Fal. How! the prince is a Jack," a sneak-cup; and, if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so. Enter Prince Henry and Poins, marching. Falstaff meets the Prince, playing on his truncheon like a fife. Fal. How now, lad? is the wind in that door, i'faith? must we al' march? Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion. P. Hen. What sayest thou, mistress Quickly? How does thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest man. Host. Good my lord, hear me. Fal. Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me. Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind When thou ran'st up Gads-hill in the night to catch the arras, and had my pocket picked: this house, my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an (1) Part. (2) Intelligence. (3) Feeds himself. (4) Have some flesh. (5) Adiniral's ship. (6) In the story-book of Reynard the Fox, Shakspeare. 1s turned bawdy-house, they pick pockets. poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villany? Thou P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack? seest, I have more flesh than another man; and Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four therefore more frailty.You confess then, you bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my picked my pocket? grandfather's. P. Hen. It appears so by the story. P. Hen. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said, I breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, heard your grace say so: And, my lord, he speaks cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he any honest reason: thou seest, I am pacified.-Still? :s; and said, he would cudgel you. P. Hen. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womannood in me else. P. Hen. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune; nor no more truth in thee, than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, maid Marian' may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go. Host. Say, what thing? what thing? Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God on. Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. Host. Say, what beast, thou knave thou? P. Hen. An otter, sir John? why an otter? Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou! P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly. Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day, you ought him a thousand pound. P. Hen. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said, he would cudgel you. Fal. Did I, Bardolph? Bard. Indeed, sir John, you said so. Fal. Yea; if he said, my ring was copper. good as thy word now? -Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, P. Hen. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee:-The money is paid back again. Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour. P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing. Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too. Bard. Do, my lord. P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the age of two and twenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them. P. Hen. Bardolph Bard. My lord. P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of My brother John; this to my lord of Westmore- Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou, and I, Meet me to morrow i'the Temple hall, There shalt thou know thy charge; and there Money, and order for their furniture. [Exeunt Prince, Poins, and Bardolph. Fal. Rare words! brave world!--Hostess, my breakfast, come: Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but 0, I could wish, this tavern were my drum. [Ezit. man, I dare: but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. P. Hen. And why not, as the lion? Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion: Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God, my girdle break! ACT IV. SCENE I-The rebel camp, near Shrewsbury. P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas. about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine: it Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: If speaking truth, is filled up with guts, and midrit. Charge an In this fine age, were not thought flattery, honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou Such attribution should the Douglas' have, whoreson, impudent, embossed2 rascal, if there As not a soldier of this season's stamp were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, Should go so general current through the world. memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy penny-worth of sugar-candy, to make thee long- The tongues of soothers; but a braver place winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself: other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord. you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Doug. Thou art the king of honour: Art thou not ashamed? No man so potent breathes upon the ground, But I will beard' him. Hot. Do so, and 'tis well:(3) This expression is applied by way of preeminence to the head of the Douglas family. (4) Disdain. (5) Meet him face to face. Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should| (1) A man dressed like a woman, who attends morris-dancers. (2) Swoln, puffy. Enter a Messenger, with letters. self? Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous Hot. You strain too far. What letters hast thou there?-I can but thank you., rather, of his absence make this use ;- sick. Hot. Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick, Mess. His letters bear his maid, not I, my lord. Wor. I would, the state of time had first been Ere he by sickness had been visited; His health was never better worth than now. Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth The very life-blood of our enterprise; Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us. Doug. 'Faith, and so we should; A comfort of retirement lives in this. Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil and mischance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. Wor. But yet, I would your father had The quality and hair of our attempt Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence; Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear. Enter Sir Richard Vernon. Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul. The earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, Ver. And further, I have learn'd,- Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son, Ver. This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come; been Against the bosom of the prince of Wales: And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence (1) Forces. (2) Languishing. (3) Informed. Ver. There is more news: Doug. Talk not of dying; I am out of fear SCENE II.—A public road near Coventry. Enter Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march through; we'll to Sutton-Colfield to-night. Bard. Will you give me money, captain? Bard. This bottle makes an angel. Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end. [Erit. theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack; whose fellows are these that come after ? Fal. Mine, Hal, mine. P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit, as well as better: tush, man, mortal men, mortal men. West. Ay, but, sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare; too beggarly. Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that: and for their bareness,-I am sure, they never learned that of me. P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste; Percy is already in the field. Fal. What, is the king encamped? West. He is, sir John; I fear, we shall stay too Bard. I will, captain: farewell. Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am long. a souced gurnet. I have misused the king's press Fal. Well, damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. feast, SCENE III-The rebel camp near Shrewsbury. non. Hot. We'll fight with him to-night. It may not be. Hot. Doug. I press me none but good householders, yeomen's Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt. sons: inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lief hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver,2 worse than a struck fowl, or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pin's heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores and such as, indeed, were never soldiers; but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old faced ancient :3 and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services, that you would think, that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals, lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad-fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat:-Nay, and the villains march wide beCome, come, it may not be. twixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, wonder much, being men of such great leading, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but That you foresee not what impediments a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half- Drag back our expedition: Certain horse shirt is two napkins, tacked together, and thrown Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up: over the shoulders, like a herald's coat without Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day; sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from And now their pride and mettle is asleep, my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daintry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge. Enter Prince Henry and Westmoreland. P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire ?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury. West. 'Faith, sír John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already: The king, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all night. Fal. Tut, never fear me; I am as vigilant as a eat to steal cream. P. Hen. I think, to steal cream, indeed; for thy You do not counsel well; I Hot. To-night, say I. Content. Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, Hot. So are the horses of the enemy Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours: [The trumpet sounds a parley. Enter Sir Walter Blunt. You were of our determination! (6) Conduct, experience. (7) Fellowship. But stand against us like an enemy. So long as, out of limit, and true rule, He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. (1) Grievances. (2) The delivery of his lands. Too indirect for long continuance. Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king? Hot. And, may be, so we shall. SCENE IV-York. 'Pray heaven, you do! A room in the archbishop's house. Enter the Archbishop of York, and a Gentleman. Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed With winged haste, to the lord mareshal; I guess their tenor. Arch. The king, with mighty and quick-raised power, Gent. Why, good my lord, you need not fear; No, Mortimer's not there. Percy, And there's my lord of Worcester; and a head Arch. And so there is: but yet the king hath The special head of all the land together ;- Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear, ACT V. SCENE I.-The king's camp near Shrewsbury. K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer (5) A strength on which we reckoned. |