Page images
PDF
EPUB

Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou With Cain go wander through the shade of hast wrought

A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this famous land. 36
Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did
I this deed.

Boling. They love not poison that do poison
need,

Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered. 40
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word nor princely favour:

night,

And never show thy head by day nor light. 44
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me
grow:

48

Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent.
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.
March sadly after; grace my mournings here,
In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]

K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd care,

4

Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote.
No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
Shall daub her lips with her own children's
blood;

No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs 8
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way, and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore,
friends,

For our advantage on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old, 28
And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree
In forwarding this dear expedience.

32

West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,

40

And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight; when all athwart there came
A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; 37
12 Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered;
Upon whose dead corpse' there was such misuse,
Such beastly shameless transformation
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
Without much shame re-told or spoken of.
K. Hen. It seems then that the tidings of
this broil

16

As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,-
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross 20
We are impressed and engag'd to fight,—

44

[blocks in formation]

The Earl of Douglas is discomfited;

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, 68

Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see On Holmedon's plains: of prisoners Hotspur took

Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son
To beaten Douglas, and the Earls of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.

And is not this an honourable spoil?

A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? West. In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

72

[blocks in formation]

SCENE II.-The Same. An Apartment of the PRINCE'S.

Enter the PRINCE and FALSTAFF.

Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? Prince. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

13

Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go by the moon and the 76 seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, 'that wandering knight so fair.' And, I prithee, sweet

K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad and wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy

mak'st me sin

80

84

In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father to so blest a son,
A son who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry. O! that it could be prov'd
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, 88
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet.
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts. What think
you, coz,

Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, 92
Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,
To his own use he keeps, and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.
West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is
Worcester,

Grace, majesty, I should say, for grace thou wilt have none,—

Prince. What! none?

20

[blocks in formation]

96

Tuesday morning; got with swearing 'Lay by;' and spent with crying 'Bring in:' now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? 46

100

talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. 98 Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. O! thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal; God forgive Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak robe of durance? 49 truly, little better than one of the wicked. I Fal. How now, how now, mad wag! what, must give over this life, and I will give it over; in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain: I'll be have I to do with a buff jerkin? 52 damned for never a king's son in Christendom. Prince. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?

Prince. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

56

Prince. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

60

Prince. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit.

III

Fal. Zounds! where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me a villain and baffle me. Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking. 115

Enter POINS, at a distance.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. Fal. Yea, and so used it that, were it not here O! if men were to be saved by merit, what hole apparent that thou art heir apparent.-But, I in hell were hot enough for him? This is the prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows stand-most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand!' ing in England when thou art king, and resolution thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

Prince. No; thou shalt.

70

Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

73 Prince. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. 76

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

80

Prince. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. Prince. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. 84 Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

to a true man.

Prince. Good morrow, Ned.

122

Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sackand-Sugar? Jack! how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on GoodFriday last for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg?

129

Prince. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs: he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.

Prince. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.

136

Poins. But my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill! There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards for you all; you have Prince. What sayest thou to a hare, or the horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies to night in melancholy of Moor-ditch? 88 Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep. If you will go I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hanged.

Fal. Thou hast the most unsavory similes, and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince; but, Hal, prithee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet he

147

Fal. Hear ye, Yedward: if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops?

Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

[blocks in formation]

Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go. 168 Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. 175 Prince. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer! [Exit FALSTAFF. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid; yourself and I will not be there; and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders.

185

Prince. But how shall we part with them in setting forth?

Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves, which they shall have no sooner achieved but we'll set upon them. 193 Prince. Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. 196 Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our vizards we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to inmask our noted outward garments.

201 Prince. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.

Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this

[blocks in formation]

The unyok'd humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world, 221
That when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. 225
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So, when this loose behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off. 237
I'll so offend to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will.
[Exit.

SCENE III.-The Same. The Palace.

229

232

[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »