And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, Would they were multitudes, and on my head Eglorious deeds for my indignities. 145 150 155 - which if He be pleas'd I shall perform, I beseech your Majesty may salve The long-grown wounds of my intemperance. it not, the end of life cancels all bands; And I will die a hundred thousand deaths Ebreak the smallest parcel of this vow. 5. A hundred thousand rebels die in this. To shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. Enter BLUNT. 161 Our business valued, some twelve days hence Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. Our hands are full of business; let's away. Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. 180 [Exeunt. SCENE III. [Eastcheap. The Boar's - Head Tavern.] Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH. Fal. Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking. I shall [5 be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse. The inside of a church! Company, villanous company, hath [10 been the spoil of me. Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. 14 Fal. Why, there is it. Come sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough, swore little, dic'd not above seven times a week, went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter-of an hour, paid money that I borrowed three or four times, lived well [21 and in good compass; and now I live out of all order, out of all compass. Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. 26 Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art our admiral; thou bearest the lantern in the poop, but 't is in the nose of thee. Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp. 30 Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori; I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in [35 purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be, "By this fire, that's God's angel;" but thou art altogether given over, and wert indeed, [40 but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou ran'st up Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, [45 thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern; but the sack that thou hast drunk me would [0 have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintain'd that salamander of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years; God reward me for it! 55 go. 70 Host. Who? I? No; I defy thee. God's light, I was never call'd so in mine own house before. Fal. Go to, I know you well enough. Host. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John; you owe me [75 money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them away to bakers' wives; they have made bolters of them. 81 Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and twenty pound. 86 Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? Alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor? Look upon his face ; what call you rich? Let them coin his nose, let [90 them coin his cheeks. I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark. 95 Host. O Jesu, I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper! Fal. How! the Prince is a Jack, a sneakcup. 'Sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so. 101 This house is turn'd bawdy-house; they pick pockets. Prince. What didst thou lose, Jack? Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? Thre four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a sel ring of my grandfather's. Prince. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard your Grace say so; and, my lord. Is speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth man as he is, and said he would cudgel you. Prince. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor w manhood in me else. Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in | stew'd prune; nor no more truth in thee th in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, M Marian may be the deputy's wife of the war to thee. Go, you thing, go. Host. Say, what thing? what thing? Fal. What thing? Why, a thing to the God on. Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it. I am an hores man's wife; and, setting thy knighthood asi thou art a knave to call me so. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou ar a beast to say otherwise. Host. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou* Fal. What beast? Why, an otter. Prince. An otter, Sir John! Why an otter! Fal. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; man knows not where to have her. Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying s Thou or any man knows where to have m thou knave, thou! Prince. Thou say'st true, hostess; and slanders thee most grossly. Host. So he doth you, my lord; and s this other day you ought him a thousand pound Prince. Sirrah, do I owe you a thotsaD pound? Fal. A thousand pound, Hal! A milit Thy love is worth a million; thou ow'st me th love. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack. a said he would cudgel you. Fal. Did I, Bardolph ? Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so. Fal. Yea, if he said my ring was copper. Prince. I say 't is copper. Dar'st thou be a good as thy word now? Fal. Why, Hal, thou know'st, as thou but man, I dare; but as thou art Prince. It thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whe'r Prince. And why not as the lion? Fal. The King himself is to be feared the lion. Dost thou think I'll fear there fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray Goi girdle break. Prince. O, if it should, how would thy gy fall about thy knees! But, sirrah, there room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this b of thine; it is all filled up with guts and ra riff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impua emboss'd rascal, if there were anything in t 190 Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou know'st the state of innocency Adam fell; and what bald poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of iny? Thou seest I have more flesh than other man, and therefore more frailty. You Jess then, you pick'd my pocket? Prince. It appears so by the story. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee. Go, make ads breakfast'; love thy husband, look to thy vants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt find Betractable to any honest reason; thou seest I al pacified still. Nay, prithee, be gone. [Exit Hostess. Now, Hal, to the news at court. For the roby, lad, how is that answered? Frince. O, my sweet beef, I must still be dangel to thee. The money is paid back 196 Fal. I would it had been of horse. Where Cad I find one that can steal well? O for a fine f of the age of two and twenty or there ! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God banked for these rebels, they offend none the virtuous. I laud them, I praise them. fe. Bardolph! Brd. My lord? 216 Prince. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Later, to my brother John; this to my 4 of Westmoreland. [Exit Bardolph.] Go, to to horse, to horse; for thou and I have miles to ride yet ere dinner time. [Exit Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Teml at two o'clock in the afternoon. 224 are shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive ey and order for their furniture. and is burning; Percy stands on high; ther we or they must lower lie. Exit.] Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come! leald wish this tavern were my drum! 230 [Exit. In such a justling time? Who leads his power? Under whose government come they along? Mess. His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord. 20 Wor. I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth; And at the time of my departure thence Wor. I would the state of time had first been whole 25 Ere he by sickness had been visited. The very life-blood of our enterprise; 30 35 40 Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us. Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off. And yet, in faith, 't is not; his present want Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good To set the exact wealth of all our states Doug. Faith, and so we should; Where now remains a sweet reversion, We may boldly spend upon the hope of what 45 50 The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales, 95 And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside, And bid it pass? 100 Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms; All plum'd like estridges that with the wind Bated, like eagles having lately bath'd; Glittering in golden coats, like images; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds 105 come! They come like sacrifices in their trim, Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt There is more news I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along. of yet. Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a froery sound. Hot. What may the King's whole bartie reach unto? Ver. To thirty thousand. Forty let it be! My father and Glendower being both away, The powers of us may serve so great a day. Come, let us take a muster speedily. Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily. Doug. Talk not of dying; I am out of fear Of death or death's hand for this one-hal [Exeunt, year. SCENE II. [A public road near Coventry. Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH. Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry fill me a bottle of sack. Our soldiers sha march through; we'll to Sutton Cop-hill to night. Bard. Will you give me money, captain? Fal. Lay out, lay out. Bard. This bottle makes an angel. Fal. An if it do, take it for thy lab and if it make twenty, take them all; 1 answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Pet meet me at town's end. E Bard. I will, captain; farewell. Fal. If I be not asham'd of my soldiers am a sous'd gurnet. I have misus'd the King' press damnably. I have got, in exchange of hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred fu odd pounds. I press me none but good householders, yeoman's sons; inquire me contracted bachelors, such as had been ask twice on the banns; such a commodity of wart slaves, as had as lieve hear the devil as a drun such as fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck fowl or a hurt wild-duck. press'd me none but such toasts-and-butte with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pin heads; and they have bought out their serrices; and now my whole charge consists of [25 ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of mpanies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores; and such as, indeed, were never soldiers, but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters [s0 and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonorable ragged than an old feaz'd ancient : and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them abave bought out their services, that you [35 would think that I had a hundred and fifty tatiter'd prodigals lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met e on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and press'd the dead bodies. No [40 sre hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the Dust of them out of prison. There's but a [45 shirt and a half in all my company; and the half shirt is two napkins tack'd together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, the red-nose inn-keeper of Daventry. [50 But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge. Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND. Prince. How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt! 84 Fal. What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what ad-vil dost thou in Warwickshire? My good cry you mercy! I Lord of Westmoreland, dought your honour had already been at Carewsbury. 59 West. Faith, Sir John, 't is more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, koks for us all. We must away all night. Fal. Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream. 65 Prince. I think, to steal cream indeed, for ty theft hath already made thee butter. But ted me, Jack, whose fellows are these that Yuue after? Fol. Mine, Hal, mine. 69 - Prince. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food f powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit well as better. Tush, man, mortal men, mor tal men. ifest. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly. 75 Fa. Faith, for their poverty. I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I az sure they never learn'd that of me. 81 Prince. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, sirrah, Bike haste. Percy is already in the field. Fal. What, is the King encamp'd? West. He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long. Fal. Well, To the latter end of a fray and the beginning 85 Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest. [Exeunt. Hot. We'll fight with him to-night. Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful. night. 5 You do not counsel well. life, And I dare well maintain it with my life, 10 I hold as little counsel with weak fear Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle Doug. Ver. Yea, or to-night. Hot. To-night, say I. Content. 15 Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, 20 Being men of such great leading as you are, |