P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door. Shall we be merry? Poins. As merry, as crickets, my lad. But hark ye! What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue? P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that have shewed themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter Francis, with wine.] What's o'clock, Francis? Fran. Anon, anon, sir. - P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words, than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs, and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he, that kills me some six, or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, Fye upon this quiet life! I want work. Omy sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff! I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow! Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO. Poins. Welcome, Jack! Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy!Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue.-Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. se th P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? P. Hen. What a hundred, man? Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a P. Hen. Speak, sirs! how was it? Peto. No, no, they were not bound. P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of them. Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of but-rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what,Hal,—if I tell ter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse! Thou knowtale of the son? If thou didst, then behold that com- est my old ward;- here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me,pound! P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st but two, even now. Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. - Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man; yet a coward is worse, than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward, Go thy ways, old Jack! die, when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old. God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would, I were a weaver; I could sing psalms, or any thing. A plague of all cowards! I say still. P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee, like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales! P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter? Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee. Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned, ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast, as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not, who sees your back. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them, that will face me! Give me a cup of sack!-I am a rogue,if I drunk to-day. P.Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped, since thou drunk'st last. Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. [He drinks. P. Hen. What's the matter? Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here have ta'en thousand pound this morning. - P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father, that begets them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoresou, obscene, greasy tallow-keech,Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth? P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark, thou could'st not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason! What sayest thou to this? he would swear truth ont of England, but he would make you believe, it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like. Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason! Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass, strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our gartell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compul-ments with it, and to swear, it was the blood of true sion! if reasons were as plenty, as blackberries, I would men. I did that I did not this seven years before, I give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. blushed to hear his monstrous devices. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin, this san- P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen guine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever breaker, this huge hill of fleshsince thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; what instinct hadst thou for it? Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish!— O, for breath to utter, what is like thee! - you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck! P. Hen. Well, breath awhile, and then to it again! and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this! Poins. Mark, Jack! P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four ; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how plain a tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and with a word out-faced you from your prize, and have it, yea, and can show it you here in the house:-and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with a quick dexterity, and roar-I ed for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword, as thou hast done, and then say, it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack! What trick hast thou now? Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he, that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters! Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant, as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad, you have the money. -Hostess, clap to the doors, watch to-night, pray to-morrow! Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? P. Hen. Content! and the argument shall be thy running away. Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! Host. My lord the prince,- Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you : he says he comes from your father. P Hen. Give him as much, as will make him a royal Host. An old man. Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you Bard. What think you they portend? Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; and his son-inlaw, Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horseback up a hill perpendicular. 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 father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap, as stinking mackarel. P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads, as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like, we shall have good trading that way. - But, tell me, Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir-Shall I give him his answer? apparent, could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Doug'as, 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! Se Fal. Shall I? content: this chair shall be my mours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Man crown. P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy gol-ningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of Fal. And here is my speech.-Stand aside, nobility! Fal. Weep not, sweet queen! for trickling tears are vain. Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance! Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you. I P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of 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 (saving your reverence,) a whoremaster, that Fal. Peace, good pint-pot! peace, good tickle-brain! utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help -Harry, I do not only marvel, where thou spendest the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many thy time, but also how thou art accompanied; for an old host, that I know, is damned: if to be fat be to though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, basooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly nish Poins! but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falthy mother's word,partly my own opinion;but chiefly, staff,true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff,and there a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging|fore more valiant, being as he is,old JackFalstaff, banish of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou not him thy Harry's company,banish not him thy Harbe son to me, here lies the point: Why, being son ry's company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun world! of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked! Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked! There 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 keepest; 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 is a virtuous man, whom I 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, i'faith, 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 should be lewdly 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 Fal. And here I stand. - Iudge, my masters. P. Hen. The complaints, I hear of thee, are grievous. Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith. 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 hu PHen. I do, I will. [4 knocking heard. Re-enter Hostess, hastily. Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door; they are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit! thou art essentially mad, without seeming so. 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 man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras! walk up above! Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience. the rest 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. Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord: Car. As fat as butter. P. Hen. The man, I do assure you, is not here; Send him to answer thee, or any man, P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, P. Hen. I think, it is good morrow; is it not? Poins. Falstaff! - fast asleep behind the arras, and 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, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. P. Hen. O monstrous! but one halfpenny-worth 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 will be a march of twelvescore. The money 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! АС Т III. Exeunt. Sit, cousin Percy! sit, good cousin Hotspur! For by that name, as oft as Lancaster Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd Glend. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave Hot. Ithink, there is no man, speaks better Welsh. I will to dinner. Mort. Peace, cousin Percy! you will make him mad. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man ; But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command The devil. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth. Tell truth, and shame the devil!If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. 0, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil! Mort. Come, come, No more of this unprofitable chat! Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head 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? Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it Into three limits, very equally: England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale, and with All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, Arising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven. Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity, Hot. Why, so it would have done At the same season, if your mother's cat had Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity. And all the fertile land within that bound, Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours. It shall not wind with such a deep indent, Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must; you see, it doth. But mark, how he bears his course, and runs me up And wond'rous affable, and as bountiful, Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame, You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here, Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, And on this north side win this cape of land; And then he runs straight and even. Hot. I'll have it so; a little charge will do it. Hot. Will not you? Glend. No, nor you shall not. Hot. Who shall say me nay? Glend. Why, that will I. Hot. Let me not understand you then, Speak it in Welsh! Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you; Where, being but young, I framed to the harp A virtue, that was never seen in you! Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart. I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. 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, Defect of manners, want of government, [Exit. Break with your wives of your departure hence. Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your - Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. you, She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. 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, In strange concealments, valiant as a lion, aunt Percy, that she, and my 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 selfwill'd 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 M. speaks. And those musicians, that shall play to you, |