Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at mid- ther's beard is turned white with the news; you night? Shall I give him his answer. Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. P. Hen. 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. Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass 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 manner 7, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hast thou for it? Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations? Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast? 9 How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? Fal. 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 villainous 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 Amaimon the bastinado, What, a plague, call you him? Poins. O, Glendower. - may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackarel. — But tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it? P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life. Fal. Shall I? content: - - This chair shall be my state, this dagger my scepter, and this cushion my crown. P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden scepter 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'3 vein. P. Hen. Well, here is my leg. 4 Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, nobility. Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance ! queen, For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players, as I ever see. Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklebrain. 5. - 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 villainous 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 Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; and his son-in-pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horse- be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, back up a hill perpendicular. and take purses? a question to be asked. 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 keep'st: 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 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 fa8 Drunkenness and poverty. 7 In the fact. 9 Bombast is the stuffing of clothes. A dæmon; who is described as one of the four kings, who rule over all the dæmons in the world. 2 Scotsh.en in blue bonnets. There is a virtuous man, whom 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, 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 threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man 3 A character in a Tragedy by T. Preston, 1570. 4 Obeisance. 5 Name of a strong liquor. 6 A truant boy. should be wantonly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month? P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king: Do thou 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 up by the heels for a rabbet-sucker, or a poulter's 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:tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith. - nay, I'll 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 huge bombard 7 of sack, that roasted Manningtree 8 ox, 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 villainy? wherein villainous, | but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you; whom means your grace? P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. 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 inan, a plague on my bring. ing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras; - -the rest walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience. Fal. Both which I have had: but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me. [Exeunt all but the PRINCE and POINS. P. Hen. Call in the Sheriff. Enter Sheriff and Carrier. Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me? Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord, A gross fat man. Car. As fat as butter. P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of And so let me entreat you leave the house. youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. Fal. My lord, the man I know. P. Hen. I know, thou dost. Fal. 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 villainous, 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 lost: 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 plump Jack, and banish all the world. P. Hen. I do, I will. [A knocking heard. [Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH. Re-enter BARDOLPH, running. Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door. Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. Re-enter Hostess, hastily. Host. O, my lord, my lord! stick: What's the matter? Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the 7 A leather black-jack to hold beer. 8 In Essex, where a large ox was roasted whole. Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, He shall be answerable; and so, farewell. Sher. Good night, my noble lord. P. Hen. I think it is good morrow; Is it not? Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. [Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, call him forth. Poins. Falstaff! fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse. P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: Search his pockets. [PoINS searches.] What hast thou found? Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord. : P. Hen. Let's see what they be read them. Item, Sauce, 4d. Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half-pennyworth 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 The money will be a march of twelve-score. shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins. Poins. Good morrow, good my lord. [Exeunt. АСТ III. A Room in the Archdeacon's House. Hot. Why, so can I; or so can any man: Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and The devil. Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure, Hot. Lord Mortimer-and cousin Glendower- A plague upon it! No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur : Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale; and, with Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity Hot. Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens And not in fear of your nativity. Glend. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil. No more of this unprofitable chat. Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye, Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too! According to our three-fold order ta'en? (A business that this night may execute,) Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. lords, And in my conduct shall your ladies come : Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton In quantity equals not one of yours: It shall not wind with such a deep indent, Hot. I think there is no man speaks better To rob me of so rich a bottom here. Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must; you see, it But mark, how he bears his course, and runs me up 1 Corner Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers: Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. Hot. I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land To any well-deserving friend; But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me, Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? Glend. The moon shines fair, you may away by night: I'll haste the writer, and, withal, Break with your wives of your departure hence : I am afraid, my daughter will run mad, So much she doteth on her Mortimer. [Exit Mort. Fye, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me, 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; Might so have tempted him as you have done, Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; And since your coming hither have done enough To put him quite beside his patience, You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your speed! Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. Re-enter GLENDOWER, with the Ladies. Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me, My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part with you, She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. Mort. Good father, tell her, - that she, and my aunt Percy, Shall follow in your conduct speedily. [GLENDOWER speaks to his daughter in Welsh, and she answers him in the same. Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry, One no persuasion can do good upon. [LADY M. speaks to MORTIMER in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks; that pretty Welsh Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens, I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, [LADY MORTIMER speaks Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. Upon the wanton rushes lay you down, Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear her Lady P. Then be still. Hot. Peace! she sings. A Welsh SONG, sung by LADY MORTIMER. Hot. Not yours, in good sooth! 'Heart, you swear Lady 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 By this our book's drawn; we'll but seal, and then To horse immediately. Mort. With all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE II. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, and Lords. K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the prince of Wales, and I, Must have some conference: But be near at hand, For we shall presently have need of you. [Exeunt Lords. Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would, I could As, in reproof of many tales devis'd, 6 Hound. Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, K. Hen. God pardon thee! — yet let me wonder, At thy affections, which do hold a wing Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more; |