The History of Henrie the fovrth

Scene i. Rochester. An inn yard.
Scene ii. The highway, near Gadshill.
Scene iii. Warkworth castle
Scene iv. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.

Act II.

Scene i. Rochester. An inn yard.

Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand
First Carrier: Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be
hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and
yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!
Ostler: [Within] Anon, anon.
First Carrier: I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks
in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out
of all cess.
Enter another Carrier
Second Carrier: Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that
is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this
house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.
First Carrier: Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats
rose; it was the death of him.
Second Carrier: I think this be the most villanous house in all
London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.
First Carrier: Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king
christen could be better bit than I have been since
the first cock.
Second Carrier: Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we
leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds
fleas like a loach.
First Carrier: What, ostler! come away and be hanged!
Second Carrier: I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger,
to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.
First Carrier: God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite
starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou
never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An
'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate
on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged!
hast thou no faith in thee?
Enter Gadshill
Gadshill: Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
First Carrier: I think it be two o'clock.
Gadshill: I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding
in the stable.
First Carrier: Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.
Gadshill: I pray thee, lend me thine.
Second Carrier: Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth
he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first.
Gadshill: Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
Second Carrier: Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant
thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the
gentleman: they will along with company, for they
have great charge.
Exeunt carriers
Gadshill: What, ho! chamberlain!
Chamberlain: [Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse.
Gadshill: That's even as fair as—at hand, quoth the
chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking
of purses than giving direction doth from labouring;
thou layest the plot how.
Enter Chamberlain
Chamberlain: Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that
I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the
wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with
him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his
company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one
that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what.
They are up already, and call for eggs and butter;
they will away presently.
Gadshill: Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas'
clerks, I'll give thee this neck.
Chamberlain: No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the
hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas
as truly as a man of falsehood may.
Gadshill: What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang,
I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old
Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no
starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou
dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are
content to do the profession some grace; that would,
if matters should be looked into, for their own
credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no
foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers,
none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms;
but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and
great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will
strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than
drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds,
I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the
commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey
on her, for they ride up and down on her and make
her their boots.
Chamberlain: What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold
out water in foul way?
Gadshill: She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We
steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt
of fern-seed, we walk invisible.
Chamberlain: Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to
the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.
Gadshill: Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our
purchase, as I am a true man.
Chamberlain: Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
Gadshill: Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the
ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell,
you muddy knave.
Exeunt

Scene ii. The highway, near Gadshill.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins
Poins: Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's
horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
Prince Henry: Stand close.
Enter Falstaff
Falstaff: Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
Prince Henry: Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost
thou keep!
Falstaff: Where's Poins, Hal?
Prince Henry: He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him.
Falstaff: I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the
rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know
not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier
further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt
not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have
forsworn his company hourly any time this two and
twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the
rogue's company. If the rascal hath 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 to
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 it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
They whistle
Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you
rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!
Prince Henry: Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close
to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread
of travellers.
Falstaff: Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?
'Sblood, 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 me thus?
Prince Henry: Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
Falstaff: I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,
good king's son.
Prince Henry: Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?
Falstaff: Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I
have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy
tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest
is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.
Enter Gadshill, Bardolph and Peto
Gadshill: Stand.
Falstaff: So I do, against my will.
Poins: O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph,
what news?
Bardolph: Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's
money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going
to the king's exchequer.
Falstaff: You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern.
Gadshill: There's enough to make us all.
Falstaff: To be hanged.
Prince Henry: 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?
Gadshill: Some eight or ten.
Falstaff: 'Zounds, will they not rob us?
Prince Henry: What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
Falstaff: Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather;
but yet no coward, Hal.
Prince Henry: 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.
Falstaff: Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.
Prince Henry: Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins: Here, hard by: stand close.
Exeunt Prince Henry and Poins
Falstaff: Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
every man to his business.
Enter the Travellers
First Traveller: Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down
the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.
Thieves: Stand!
Travellers: Jesus bless us!
Falstaff: Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats:
ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they
hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.
Travellers: O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
Falstaff: Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye
fat chuffs: 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, 'faith.
Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt
Re-enter Prince Henry and Poins
Prince Henry: 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.
Enter the Thieves again
Falstaff: 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.
Prince Henry: Your money!
Poins: Villains!
As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them
Prince Henry: Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are all 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:
Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins: How the rogue roar'd!
Exeunt

Scene iii. Warkworth castle

Enter Hotspur, solus, reading a letter
Hotspur: 'But for mine own part, 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! By the Lord,
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 action. 'Zounds, an I were now by
this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan.
Is there not my 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
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
skim 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
How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.
Lady Percy: 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-eyed musing and cursed 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 hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Hotspur: What, ho!
Enter Servant
Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Servant: He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hotspur: Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
Servant: One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hotspur: What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Servant: It is, my lord.
Hotspur: That roan shall by my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
Exit Servant
Lady Percy: But hear you, my lord.
Hotspur: What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady Percy: What is it carries you away?
Hotspur: Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady Percy: Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss'd with. In faith,
I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title, and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise: but if you go,—
Hotspur: So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady Percy: Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto this question that I ask:
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
Hotspur: Away,
Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too. God's me, my horse!
What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou
have with me?
Lady Percy: Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
Hotspur: Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am on horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise, but yet no farther wise
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
Lady Percy: How! so far?
Hotspur: Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
Will this content you, Kate?
Lady Percy: It must of force.
Exeunt

Scene iv. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins
Prince Henry: Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me
thy hand to laugh a little.
Poins: Where hast been, Hal?
Prince Henry: With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four
score hogsheads. I have sounded the very
base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother
to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by
their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.
They take it already upon their salvation, that
though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king
of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack,
like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a
good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I
am king of England, I shall command all the good
lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing
scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they
cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. 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 sweet
action. But, sweet Ned,—to sweeten which name of
Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped
even now into my hand by an under-skinker, 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 away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee,
do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my
puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do
thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale
to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and
I'll show thee a precedent.
Poins: Francis!
Prince Henry: Thou art perfect.
Poins: Francis!
Exit Poins. Enter Francis
Francis: Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.
Prince Henry: Come hither, Francis.
Francis: My lord?
Prince Henry: How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Francis: Forsooth, five years, and as much as to—
Poins: [Within] Francis!
Francis: Anon, anon, sir.
Prince Henry: Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking
of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant
as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it
a fair pair of heels and run from it?
Francis: O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in
England, I could find in my heart.
Poins: [Within] Francis!
Francis: Anon, sir.
Prince Henry: How old art thou, Francis?
Francis: Let me see—about Michaelmas next I shall be—
Poins: [Within] Francis!
Francis: Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.
Prince Henry: Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou
gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not?
Francis: O Lord, I would it had been two!
Prince Henry: I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me
when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
Poins: [Within] Francis!
Francis: Anon, anon.
Prince Henry: Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis;
or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when
thou wilt. But, Francis!
Francis: My lord?
Prince Henry: Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button,
not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,—
Francis: O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
Prince Henry: Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink;
for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet
will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.
Francis: What, sir?
Poins: [Within] Francis!
Prince Henry: Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call?
Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go
Enter Vintner
Vintner: What, standest thou still, and hearest such a
calling? Look to the guests within.
Exit Francis
My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are
at the door: shall I let them in?
Prince Henry: Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.
Exit Vintner, Poins
Re-enter Poins
Poins: Anon, anon, sir.
Prince Henry: Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at
the door: shall we be merry?
Poins: As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what
cunning match have you made with this jest of the
drawer? come, what's the issue?
Prince Henry: I am now of all humours that have showed themselves
humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the
pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
Re-enter Francis
What's o'clock, Francis?
Francis: Anon, anon, sir.
Exit
Prince Henry: That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a
parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is
upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of
a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the
Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or
seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his
hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet
life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she,
'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan
horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some
fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I
prithee, 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.
Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto; Francis following with wine
Poins: Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?
Falstaff: A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too!
marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I
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
Prince Henry: Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?
pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale
of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound.
Falstaff: You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is
nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man:
yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime
in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack;
die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be
not forgot 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: God 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.
Prince Henry: How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?
Falstaff: 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!
Prince Henry: Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
Falstaff: Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there?
Poins: 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the
Lord, I'll stab thee.
Falstaff: 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 them that will
face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I
drunk to-day.
Prince Henry: O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
drunkest last.
Falstaff: All's one for that.
He drinks
A plague of all cowards, still say I.
Prince Henry: What's the matter?
Falstaff: What's the matter! there be four of us here have
ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.
Prince Henry: Where is it, Jack? where is it?
Falstaff: Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon
poor four of us.
Prince Henry: What, a hundred, man?
Falstaff: I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a
dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by
miracle. I am eight times thrust through the
doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut
through and through; my sword hacked like a
hand-saw—ecce signum! I never dealt better since
I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all
cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or
less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.
Prince Henry: Speak, sirs; how was it?
Gadshill: We four set upon some dozen—
Falstaff: Sixteen at least, my lord.
Gadshill: And bound them.
Peto: No, no, they were not bound.
Falstaff: You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I
am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.
Gadshill: As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us—
Falstaff: And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.
Prince Henry: What, fought you with them all?
Falstaff: All! I know not what you 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 am I no two-legged creature.
Prince Henry: Pray God you have not murdered some of them.
Falstaff: Nay, that's past praying 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 my 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—
Prince Henry: What, four? thou saidst but two even now.
Falstaff: Four, Hal; I told thee four.
Poins: Ay, ay, he said four.
Falstaff: 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.
Prince Henry: Seven? why, there were but four even now.
Falstaff: In buckram?
Poins: Ay, four, in buckram suits.
Falstaff: Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
Prince Henry: Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.
Falstaff: Dost thou hear me, Hal?
Prince Henry: Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Falstaff: Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine
in buckram that I told thee of—
Prince Henry: So, two more already.
Falstaff: Their points being broken,—
Poins: Down fell their hose.
Falstaff: Began to give me ground: but I followed me close,
came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of
the eleven I paid.
Prince Henry: O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!
Falstaff: 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 couldst
not see thy hand.
Prince Henry: These lies are like their father that begets them;
gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou
clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou
whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,—
Falstaff: What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth
the truth?
Prince Henry: 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?
Poins: Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
Falstaff: What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were 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 plentiful as
blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon
compulsion, I.
Prince Henry: I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine
coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker,
this huge hill of flesh,—
Falstaff: 'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried
neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O
for breath to utter what is like thee! you
tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile
standing-tuck,—
Prince Henry: Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and
when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons,
hear me speak but this.
Poins: Mark, Jack.
Prince Henry: We two saw you four set on four and 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: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts
away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared
for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard
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?
Falstaff: By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye.
Why, hear you, 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 now 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, by the Lord,
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?
Prince Henry: Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.
Falstaff: Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!
Enter Hostess
Hostess: O Jesu, my lord the prince!
Prince Henry: How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to
me?
Hostess: Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at
door would speak with you: he says he comes from
your father.
Prince Henry: Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and
send him back again to my mother.
Falstaff: What manner of man is he?
Hostess: An old man.
Falstaff: What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall
I give him his answer?
Prince Henry: Prithee, do, Jack.
Falstaff: 'Faith, and I'll send him packing.
Exit Falstaff
Prince Henry: 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, fie!
Bardolph: 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
Prince Henry: 'Faith, 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.
Bardolph: Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to
make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments
with it and 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.
Prince Henry: O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years
ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since
thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and
sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what
instinct hadst thou for it?
Bardolph: My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold
these exhalations?
Prince Henry: I do.
Bardolph: What think you they portend?
Prince Henry: Hot livers and cold purses.
Bardolph: Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
Prince Henry: No, if rightly taken, halter.
Re-enter Falstaff
Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone.
How now, my sweet creature of bombast!
How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
Falstaff: 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 villanous 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 Amamon the
bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the
devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh
hook—what a plague call you him?
Poins: O, Glendower.
Falstaff: Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer,
and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of
Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill
perpendicular,—
Prince Henry: He that rides at high speed and with his pistol
kills a sparrow flying.
Falstaff: You have hit it.
Prince Henry: So did he never the sparrow.
Falstaff: Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.
Prince Henry: Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so
for running!
Falstaff: O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot.
Prince Henry: Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
Falstaff: 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 mackerel.
Prince Henry: Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and
this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads
as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.
Falstaff: By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we
shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,
art not thou horrible 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?
Prince Henry: Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.
Falstaff: Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou
comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.
Prince Henry: Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the
particulars of my life.
Falstaff: Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state,
this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
Prince Henry: Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden
sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich
crown for a pitiful bald crown!
Falstaff: 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 my 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.
Prince Henry: Well, here is my leg.
Falstaff: And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
Hostess: O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
Falstaff: Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain.
Hostess: O, the father, how he holds his countenance!
Falstaff: For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;
For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
Hostess: O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
players as ever I see!
Falstaff: Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.
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 villanous 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 pointed at? Shall
the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat
blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall
the sun 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 keepest: 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.
Prince Henry: What manner of man, an it like your majesty?
Falstaff: A goodly portly man, i' faith, 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 three score; 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?
Prince Henry: Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me,
and I'll play my father.
Falstaff: Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so
majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by
the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare.
Prince Henry: Well, here I am set.
Falstaff: And here I stand: judge, my masters.
Prince Henry: Now, Harry, whence come you?
Falstaff: My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
Prince Henry: The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
Falstaff: 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle
ye for a young prince, i' faith.
Prince Henry: 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 an
old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why
dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that
bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen 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?
Falstaff: I would your grace would take me with you: whom
means your grace?
Prince Henry: That villanous abominable misleader of youth,
Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
Falstaff: My lord, the man I know.
Prince Henry: I know thou dost.
Falstaff: But to say I know more harm in him than in myself,
were to say more than I know. That he is old, the
more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but
that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster,
that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault,
God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a
sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if
to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine
are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto,
banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack
Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,
valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant,
being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him
thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's
company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.
Prince Henry: I do, I will.
A knocking heard
Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph. Re-enter Bardolph, running
Bardolph: O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most
monstrous watch is at the door.
Falstaff: Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to
say in the behalf of that Falstaff.
Re-enter the Hostess
Hostess: O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
Prince Henry: Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick:
what's the matter?
Hostess: The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they
are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?
Falstaff: Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of
gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad,
without seeming so.
Prince Henry: And thou a natural coward, without instinct.
Falstaff: I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff,
so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart
as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up!
I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another.
Prince Henry: Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up
above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good
conscience.
Falstaff: Both which I have had: but their date is out, and
therefore I'll hide me.
Prince Henry: Call in the sheriff.
Exeunt all except Prince Henry and [Peto: Enter Sheriff and the Carrier]
Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me?
Sheriff: First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
Prince Henry: What men?
Sheriff: One of them is well known, my gracious lord,
A gross fat man.
Carrier: As fat as butter.
Prince Henry: The man, I do assure you, is not here;
For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charged withal:
And so let me entreat you leave the house.
Sheriff: I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
Prince Henry: It may be so: if he have robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable; and so farewell.
Sheriff: Good night, my noble lord.
Prince Henry: I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Sheriff: Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier
Prince Henry: This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go,
call him forth.
Peto: Falstaff!—Fast asleep behind the arras, and
snorting like a horse.
Prince Henry: Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers
What hast thou found?
Peto: Nothing but papers, my lord.
Prince Henry: Let's see what they be: read them.
Peto: [Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d.
Item, Sauce,. . . 4d.
Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.
Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
Item, Bread, ob.
Prince Henry: O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to
this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else,
keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there
let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the
morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place
shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a
charge of foot; and I know his death will be a
march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid
back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in
the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto.
Exeunt
Peto: Good morrow, good my lord.

- --oOo-- -