SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV. KING HENRY THE FOURTH. PERSONS REPRESENTED. TRAVERS and MORTON, Domestics of NorthumberJand. FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and PAGE. POINS and PETO, Attendants on Prince Henry. MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, and BULL- FANG and SNARE, Sheriff's Officers. A DANCER, Speaker of the Epilogue. LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. LADY PERCY. Hostess QUICKLY.-DOLL TEAR-SHEET. Lords and other Attendants; Officers, Soldiers Messenger, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, &c. Scene, England. INDUCTION. Warkworth.-Before Northumberland's Castle. The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour speaks? Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, Tat the blunt monster with uncounted heads, Among my household? Why is Rumour here! Hath beaten down young Hotspur, and his troops, Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I je noise abroad,-that Harry Monmouth fell have I rumour'd through the peasant towns not a man of them brings other news at they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues by bring smooth comforts false, worse than true [Exit. wrongs. Northumberland castle. Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good as heart can wish :- North. How is this derived? Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; A gentleman well bred, and of good name, sent On Tuesday last to listen after news. • Important or dreadful eveir. And he is furnish'd with no certainties, Enter TRAVERS. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back North. Ha!-Again. Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what; If my young lord your son have not the day, But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by And Westmoreland: this is the news at full. Travers, Give then such instances of loss? Bard. Who, he? He was some bilding; fellow, that had stolen North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf North. How doth my son, and brother? thus; Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas; Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet: See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He, that but fears the thing he would not know, Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn. Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs, A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Let us make head. It was your pre-surmise, Of wounds, and scars; and that his forward spirit Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss, lord, I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, The gentle archbishop of York is up, Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, Of fair king Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones: Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were mann'd, horsed, and wived. Enter the LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE, and an ATTENDANT. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph. Fal. Wait close, I will not see him. Ch. Just. What's he that goes there? Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again. Atten. Sir John Falstaff! Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. I am sure, he is, to the hearing of any thing good.-Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. Atten. Sir John, Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? Do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. Atten. You mistake me, Sir. man? Setting my knighthood and my soldiership Fal. Why, Sir, did I say you were an honest aside, I had lied in my throat if I had said so. Atten. I pray you, Sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man. Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hang'd :-You hunt-counter+ hence! Avaunt! Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord!-God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: heard say your lordship was sick: I hope, your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saitness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care of your health. Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. I Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird || at me: the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to vent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelm'd all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with an agate ** till now but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, bat in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a bar-into this same whoreson apoplexy. ber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of legrace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure thargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleephim. What said master Dumbleton about the satining in the blood, a whoreson tingling. for my short cloak, and slops? Page. He said, Sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Fal. Let him be damn'd like the glutton! May his tongue be hotter!-A whoreson Achitophel! A rascally yea-forsooth knave! To bear a gentleman in band, and then stand upon security !-The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough++ with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon-security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I look'd he should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him.-Where's Bardolph ? Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is return'd with some discomfort from Wales. Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty :-You would not come when I sent for you. Fal. And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray, let me speak with you. Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? Be it as it is. Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from study, and perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of his effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness. Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you. Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not, if I do become your physician. Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your prescrip tions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself. Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Alluding to an old proverb: Who goes to Westminster for a wife, to St. Paul's for a man, and to Smithfield for a horse, may meet with a whore, a kuave, and a jade. A catch-pole or bum-bailiff. (h. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. Ful. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater, and my waist slenderer. Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God, my nanie were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be scour❜d to nothing with perpetual motion. Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your expedition! Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth? Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you weil: commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-heal'd [Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant. wound; your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. little gilded over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: A man can no more separate age and covetousyou may thank the unquiet time for your quietness, than he can part young limbs and lechery: o'er-posting that action. Fal. My lord? Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf. Fal. To wake a wolf, is as bad as to smell a fox. Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt out. Fal. A wassel candle, my lord; all tallow if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your face, but should have his effect of gravity. Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. Ful. Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but, I hope, he that looks upon me, will take me without weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these coster-monger times, that true valour is turn'd bear-herd :-Pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You, that are old, consider not the capacities of us that are young; you measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we that are in the vaward || of our youth, I must confess, are wags too. Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? A dry hand? A yellow cheek? A white beard? A decreasing leg? An increasing belly? Is not your Voice broken? Your wind short? Your chin double? Your wit single? And every part about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! Ful. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice,-I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him. For the box o' the ear that the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have check'd him for it; and the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes, and sackcloth; but in new silk, and old sack. Ch. Just. Well, heaven send the prince a better companion! Fut. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of hiin. Ch. Just. Well, the king hath sever'd you and prince Harry: I hear, you are going with lord John of Lancaster, against the archbishop, and the earl of Northumberland. Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day! For, by the lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees prevent + my curses.-Boy !~~ Page. Sir? Fal. What money is in my purse? Fal. I aan get no remedy against this consump tion of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.-Ga bear this letter to my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince: this to the earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin: about it; you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! For the one, or the other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable: a good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commit Exit. dity . SCENE III.-York.-A Room in the Archbishop's Palace. Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH. Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and known our means; And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, Mowb. I weil allow the occasion of our aims Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file To five and twenty thousand men of choice: And our supplies live largely in the hope Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns With an incensed fire of injuries. Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth thus; Whether our present five and twenty thousand Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point; Arch. 'Tis very true, lord Bardolph; for, indeed, It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. Eating the air on promise of supply, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope. Indeed the instant action, (a'cause on foot,) What do we then, but draw anew the model To build at all? Much more, in this great work, Using the names, of men instead of men : Should be still born, and that we now possess'd I think, we are a body strong enough, Burd. What! is the king but five and twenty thousand? Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Por his divisions, as the times do brawl, Hast. If he should do so, [Welsh He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Dand: Arch. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick in their own choice, Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. ACT H. SCENE 1.-London.-A Street. [die, Host. Where is your yeoman⚫ ? Is it a lusty yeoman ?, Will a' stand to't? Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare? Host. O lord, ay: good master Snare. Fung. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. Host. Yea, good master Suare; I have enter'd him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. Lost. Alas the day! Take heed of him; he stabi'd me in mine own house, and that most beastly in good faith, a' cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will foi + like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an infinitive thing upon my score:-Good master Fang, hold him sure;-good master Snare, let him not 'scape. He comes continuantly to Pyecorner, (saving your manhoods,) to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the Lubbar's Head, in Lumbert-street, to master Smooth's, the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is enter'd, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, PAGE, and BARDOLPH Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, master Fang, and master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices. Fal. How now? Whose mare's dead? What's the matter? Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of mistress Quickly. Fal. Away, varlets!-Draw, Bardolph; cut me on the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel. Host. Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? Wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue!-Murder, murder! O thou honeysuckle villain! Wilt thou kill God's officers, and the king's O thou honey-seed rogue! Thou art a honey-seed; a man-queller, and a woman-queller. Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. Fang. A rescue! A rescue! Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two.-Thou wo't, wo't thou? Thou wo't, wo't thou? Do, do, thou rogue! Do, thou hemp-seed! Fal. Away, you scullion! You rampallian! You fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. Enter the Lord CHIEF JUSTICE, attended. Ch. Just. What's the matter? Keep the peace here, ho! Host. Good my lord, be good to me! I beseech yon, stand to me! Ch. Just. How now, Sir John? What are you brawling here? Doth this become your place, your time, and business? You should have been well on your way to York.Stand from him, fellow? Wherefore hang'st thou on him? Host. O my most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. Ch. Just. For what sum? Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have: he hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his : but I will have some of it out again, or I'll ride thee o' nights, like the mare. Fal. I think, I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any 'vantage of ground to get up. Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir Jhi? Fie! What |