For I was train'd up in the English court: Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my I had rather be a kitten, and cry-mew, Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. by night: I'll haste the writer, and, withal, [hence: Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me, With telling me of the moldwarp|| and the ant, A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven, But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; Exceedingly well read, and profited In strange concealments;** valiant as a lion, And wond'rous affable; and as bountiful + Candlestick. Break the matter. ** Secrets. Cutting. The writer of the articles. Il Mole. ¶ Dainties. As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilfulblame; And since your coming hither have done enough (And that's the dearest grace it renders you,) Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your speed! Here comes 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 selfwill'd harlotry, One no persuasion can do good upon. [Lady M. speaks to MORTIMER in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh [heavens, Which thou pourest down from these swelling I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, In such a parley would I answer thee. [Lady M. speaks. [tongue 1 understand thy kisses, and thou mine, Upon the wanton rushes lay you down, Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. Glend. Do so; And those musicians that shall play to you,, * Guard, escort. A compliment to queen Elizabeth. + Our paper of conditions." 408 Hang in the air a thousand leagues from | Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean 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. GLENDOWER speaks some Welsh words, and Hot. Now I perceive, the devil understands And 'tis no marvel, he's so humorous. 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. Ludy P. Would'st thou have thy head broken? Hot. No. Lady P. Then be still. Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed. Hot. Peace! she sings. A Welsh SONG sung by Lady M. Swear me, Kate, like a lady, as thou art, Ludy P. I will not sing. Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; and so come in when ye will. [Exit. Glend. Come, come, lord Mortimer; you are as slow, As hot lord Percy is on fire to go. Mort. With all my heart. K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the Prince of I know not whether God will have it so, attempts,* Such barren pleasures, rude society, Quit all offences with as clear excuse, K. Hen. God pardon thee!-yet let me won- At thy affections, which do hold a wing And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, little More than a little is by much too much. Unworthy undertakings. + Officious parasites. When it shines seldom in admiring eyes: Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect Be more myself. K. Hen. For all the world, As thou art to this hour, was Richard then My shames redoubled! for the time will come, Enter BLUNT. How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg; Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust, Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on, This infant warrior, in his enterprizes The archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Capitulatet against us, and are up. But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? Base inclination, and the start of spleen,- with it. Blunt. So hath the business that I come to speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,- K. Hen. The earl of Westmoreland set forth march: Our meeting is Bridgnorth: and, Harry, you Shall march through Glostershire; by which account, Our business valued, some twelve days hence SCENE III-Eastcheap.-A Room in the Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH. Ful. Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am wither'd like an old apple-John. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking;|| I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a church! Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. Burd. 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 quarter-of 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 | my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of you must needs be out of all compass; out of my grandfather's worth forty mark. all reasonable compass, Sir John. 糖 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. When thou ran'st up Gads-hill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis futuus, or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me 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 chandler's in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire, any time this two and thirty years; Heaven reward me for it! Bard. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your Lelly! Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned. Enter HOSTESS. How now, dame Partlet the hen? have you inquired yet, who picked my pocket? Host. Why, Sir John! what do you think, Sir 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 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. Host. No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John: I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them. Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell.. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and twenty pound. Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Ful. How! poor? look upon his face; What call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks; I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have * Admiral's ship. In the story-book of Reynard the Fox. Host. O Jesu! I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper. Fal. How! the prince is a Jack, a sneakcup; 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. Ful. How now, lad? is the wind in that door, i'faith? must we all march? Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion? Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me. 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. P. Hen. What sayest thou, Jack? Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket picked: this house is turned bawdy-house, they pick pockets. P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack? Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a sealring of my grandfather's. P. Hen. A trille, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord'; and I said, I heard your grace say so: And, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul mouthed man as he is; and said, he would cudgel you. P. Hen. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else. Ful. 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 Mariant 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, 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? Ful. Why? she's neither fish, nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her. 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 owed 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? Burd. Indeed, Sir John, you said so. A term of contempt frequently used by Shakspeare + A man dressed like a woman, who attends morris dancers. . Hen. I say, 'tis copper: darest thou be Ful. Rare words! brave world as good as thy word now? my breakfast; come : Hostess, • [Exit. Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art O, I could wish, this tavern were my drum. but 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? Ful. 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! P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine; it is filled up with guts, and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent embossed rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee long winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong Art thou not ashamed? Fal. Dost thou hear, Ha!? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villany? Thou seest, I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.You confess then, you picked my pocket? P. Hen. It appears so by the story. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest I am pacified-Still?-Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit HOSTESS.] Now, Hal, to the news at court for the robbery, lad,-How is that answered? 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, praise them. P. Hen. BardolphBard. My lord. P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancaster, [land. My brother John; this to my lord of WestmoreGo, Poins, to horse,to horse; for thou, and I, Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.Jack, Meet me to-morrow i' the temple hall At two o'clock i' the afternoon : There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive Money, and order for their furniture. [Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, and BARDOLPH. Swoln, puffy. ACT IV. SCENE 1.-The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS. Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth, In this fine age, were not thought flattery, Hot. Do so, and 'tis well:— Enter a MESSENGER, with letters. What letters hast thou there?—I can but thank you. Mess. These letters come from your father,Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not himself? Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous sick. Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth; He was much fear'd by his physicians. Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole, His health was never better worth than now. The very life-blood of our enterprize; Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us. off: And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want All at one cast? to set so rich a main This expression is applied by way of preeminence to the head of the Douglas family. + Disdain. t Meet him face to face. Forces. | Languishing. ¶ Informed. |