1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity for ever. of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied' knaves; Are ye un- open all our proceedings. O, I could divide my done? No, ye fat chuffs; I would, your store self, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves? skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang young men must live: You are grand-jurors, are him! let him tell the king: We are prepared: ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith. will set forward to-night

[Exeunt Fal. &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 to horse before day. An the prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild duck.

P. Hen. Your money. [Rushing out upon them.
Poins. Villians.

[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set
upon them. Falstaff, after a blow or two,
and the rest, run away, leaving their booty
behind them.]

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse :

Lady. O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I, this fortnight, been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth;
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars:
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage!-to the field! And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin;
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream:
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are
these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Enter Servant.

Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the

sheriff?

Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought, even now.
Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv. It is, my lord.
Hot.

The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear So strongly, that they dare not meet each other; Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along: Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him. Poins. How the rogue roar'd! [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Warkworth. A room in the castle. Enter Hotspur, reading a letter. -But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I beer 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. That roan shall be my throne. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous; the Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!"friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. [Er. Serv. 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 lackbrain is this? By the Lord, our plot is a good plot My love, my horse. as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: Lady. a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen, an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-As you are toss'd with. In faith, spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York com- I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. mends the plot, and the general course of the I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I About his title; and hath sent for you, could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not To line his enterprize: But if you gomy father, my uncle, and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, 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 In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, next month? and are they not, some of them, set An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an Hot. Away,

Lady. But hear you, my lord.
Hot.
What say'st, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away?
Hot.
My horse,

Out, you mad-headed ape!

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito,' answer me
Directly to this question that I ask.

Away, you trifler!-Love ?-I love thee not,

(7) Motto of the Percy family.
(8) Strengthen. (9) Parrot.

Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, my lord. P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis: For the But hark you, sugar thou gavest me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't

words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman!- Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword His industry is-up-stairs, and down-stairs; his elo- with a dozen of them two hours together. I have quence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that the doublet; four, through the hose; my buckler kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a cut through and through; my sword hacked like a breakfast; washes his hands, and says to his wife, hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.-O my I was a man; all would not do. A plague of all sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed cowards!-Let them speak: if they speak more or to-day ?-Give my roan horse a drench, says he; less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, darkness. a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer, his wife. Rivo, says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow.

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.

Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them: or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us,——

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.

Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto. Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy.-Ere lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of raof butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the dish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon sweet tale of the son! if thou didst, then behold poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged creature. that compound. Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all?
Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: of them. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villa- Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have nous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have sack with lime in it; a villanous coward.-Go thy paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, what, Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the me horse. Thou knowest my old ward;-here I earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in three good men unhanged in England; and one of buckram let drive at me,them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would I were a weaver; 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 of Wales!

P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there?

Poins. Zounds, yet fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee.

P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st 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. Pry'thee, let him alone; we shall have

more anon.

Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These
nine men in buckram, that I told thee of,
P. Hen. So, two more already.
Fal. Their points being broken,-
Poins. Down fell their hose.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me Fal. Began to give me ground: But I followed them that will face me.-Give me a cup of sack.-me close, came in foot and hand; and, with a

I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day.

P. Hen. O, villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunk'st last.

Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all eow-
ards, still say I.
[He drinks.

P. Hen. What's the matter?
Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us
here have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.
P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it?

thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Hen. O, monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou could'st not see thy hand.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable.

Fal. Where is it? taken from as it is: a hun-Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-pated

Ared upon four of us.

P. Hen. What, a hundred, man?

fool thou whoreson, obscene, greasy, tallow keech.3.

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

(3) A round lump of fat.

P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou could'st not see thy hand? come, tell us your reason; What sayest thou to this?

Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England but he P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin: this would make you believe it was done in fight; and sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back- persuaded us to do the like. breaker, this huge hill of flesh;

Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish, O, for breath to utter what is like thee !-you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck ;

P. Hen. Well, breathe a while, and then to it again: and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.

Poins. Mark, Jack.

Bard Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-
grass, 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 man-
ner, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore;
Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet
thou ran'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it?
Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do
you behold these exhalations?
P. Hmm. I do.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.2
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.
Re-enter Falstaff.

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.Mark now, how plain a 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 :-and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare bone. How hast done; and then say, it was in fight! What now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? now find out, to hide thee from this open and ap- Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: thou now? A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that like a bladder. There's villanous news abroad: made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for here was sir John Bracy from your father; you me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon must to the court in the morning. That same mad the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as va- fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that liant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will gave Amaimon the bastinado, and made Lucifer not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great mat- cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon ter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the the cross of a Welsh hook,-What, a plague, call better of myself and thee, during my life; I, for a you him?-

parent shame?

valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by Poins. O, Glendower.

the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money.- Fal. Owen, Owen; the same;-and his son-inHostess, clap to the doors: watch to-night, pray law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and to-morrow.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs all the titles of good fellowship come to you! o'horseback up a hill perpendicular. 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
say'st thou to me?

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 roval man, and send him back again to my mother. Fal. What manner of man is he?

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 more: Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackarel. P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot

(4) A demon; who is described as one of the four kings, who rule over all the demons in the world.

(5) Scotsmen in blue bonnets.

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 fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to threescore; and now like, we shall have good trading that way. But, I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harbeing heir apparent, could the world pick thee out ry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Fal thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill staff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell at it? me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?

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. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father.

Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, 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 rabbit-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 passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses' vein.

P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.'

Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, nobility.

Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith.

Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.

Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance !

Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful

queen,

For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
Host. O rare! he doth it like as one of these
harlotry players, as I ever see.

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? henceforth 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 companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that 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. I 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 know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then a 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 P. Hen. I do, I will. 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

[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.

Fal. 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.