SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Enter the PRINCE OF WALES 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 Pupper 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? Caless hours were cups of sack and minutes Capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and ids the signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal for we that take purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that dering knight so fair.' And, I prithee, sweet wa, when thou art king, as, God save thy grace,-majesty I should say, for grace Do wilt have none, 20 Prince. What, none? Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will erve to be prologue to an egg and butter. Prince. Well, how then? come, roundly, andly. FL Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou rt king, let not us that are squires of the et's body be called thieves of the day's aty: let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen f the shade, minions of the moon; and let en say we be men of good government, being overned, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste istress the moon, under whose countenance e steal Prince. Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most dissolutely spent on 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 ? Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? 49 Fat. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? 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. 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. Fal. Yea, and so used it that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparentBut, I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic 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. Prince. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humor as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. Prince. For obtaining of suits? 80 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. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. Prince. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavory similes and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I 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 talked very wisely, but I regarded nim not; and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. 190 Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. Prince. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack ? 111 Fal. Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'n make one; an I do not, call me villain and baffle me. Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation. Enter POINS. Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried Stand' to a true man. Prince. Good morrow, Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse ? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday 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. Poms. 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 horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester: I have bespoke supper tomorrow 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. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not. I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? 150 Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? Prince. Who, I rob? I a thief 2 not I, by my faith. Fai. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou dares not stand for ten shillings 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. Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of per suasion 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. Prince. Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! [Exit Falston Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord ride with us to-morrow: I have a jest to CXecute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill shall rob thes men that we have already waylaid: yoursel and I will not be there; and when they the booty, if you and I do not rob them. this head off from my shoulders. Prince. How shall we part with them in setting forth? Poins. Why, we will set forth before e after them, and appoint them a place of meet ing, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail, au then will they adventure upon the ex themselves; when they shall have no soon? achieved, but we'll set upon them. Prince. Yea, but 'tis like that they wi know us by our horses, by our habits and b every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not se I'll tie them in the wood; our vizards we w change after we leave them and, sirrat have cases of buckram for the nonce, to in mask our noted outward garments. Prince. Yea, but I doubt they will be t hard for us. The vit Poins. Well, for two of them, I know the to be as true-bred cowards as ever te back; and for the third, if he fight longer L he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. of this jest will be, the incomprehensible that this same fat rogue will tell us when meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fou with; what wards, what blows, what extr ities he endured; and in the reproof of t lies the jest. Prince. Well, I'll go with thee: provide all things necessary and meet me to-morr night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farew Poins. Farewell, my lord. [E Prince. I know you all, and will aw uphold The unyoked humor of your idleness: Who doth permit the base contagious cloud eves Than that which hath no foil to set it off. SCENE III. London. The palace. Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others. King. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Chapt to stir at these indignities, And you have found me; for accordingly ou tread upon my patience: but be sure I will from henceforth rather be myself, Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition: Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, And therefore lost that title of respect Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves 10 The scourge of greatness to be used on it; hands Have holp to make so portly. North. My lord,— King. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye : 0, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, And majesty might never yet endure You have good leave to leave us when we need 20 Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. You were about to speak. manded. Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, Were, as he says, not with such strength de nied As is deliver'd to your majesty: Either envy, therefore, or misprision Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held 40 Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, To be so pester'd with a popinjay, 50 He should or he should not; for he made me mad To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet 60 And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, Hot. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took, When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; 110 Color her working with such deadly wounds; He never did encounter with Glendower : 'I tell thee, He durst as well have met the devil alone Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer : Or you shall hear in such a kind from me As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, We license your departure with your son. Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. [Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train. Hot. An if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them: I will after straight Re-enter WORCESTER. Hot. Speak of Mortimer! 130 'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him: Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer nephew mad. Wor. Who struck this heat up after I was gone? Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners: And when I urged the ransom once again 141 Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, Wor. I cannot blame him was not he proclaim'd By Richard that dead is the next of blood? North. He was; I heard the proclamation : And then it was when the unhappy king,— Whose wrongs in us God pardon-did set forth Upon his Irish expedition; From whence he intercepted did return 150 But shall it be that you, that set the crown 16 To show the line and the predicament And shall it in more shame be further spoker To answer all the debt he owes to you Hot. If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: Send danger from the east unto the west, North Imagination of some great exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. 200 Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, And pluck up drowned honor by the locks; Bat out upon this half-faced fellowship! Wor. He apprehends a world of figures But not the form of what he should attend. Those same noble Scots I'll keep them all ; I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Wor. Hear you, cousin; a word. And then the power of Scotland and of York, To join with Mortimer, ha? Wor. 281 And so they shall. Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, To save our heads by raising of a head; |