History of Henry IV, Part II (1597-8)

(Complete Text)
Intro
Title Variant: The Second Part of Henry the Fourth
Online Critical Edition in Progress - Version 1.a.
Shakespeare Network - https://shakespearenetwork.net/

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Prologue, Scene 1

Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle

Rumour
Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace while covert emnity,
Under the smile of safety, wounds the world;
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wav'ring multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory,
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,
Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? My office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
And that the King before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news
Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tongues
They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

Act I, Scene 1

Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle

Bardolph
Who keeps the gate here, ho? [The PORTER opens the gate]
Where is the Earl?

Porter
What shall I say you are?

Bardolph
Tell thou the Earl
That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.

Porter
His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard.
Please it your honour knock but at the gate,
And he himself will answer.

Bardolph
Here comes the Earl. Exit PORTER

Earl of Northumberland
What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
Should be the father of some stratagem.
The times are wild; contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
And bears down all before him.

Bardolph
Noble Earl,
I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.

Earl of Northumberland
Good, an God will!

Bardolph
As good as heart can wish.
The King is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John,
And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,
Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,
So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
Came not till now to dignify the times,
Since Cxsar's fortunes!

Earl of Northumberland
How is this deriv'd?
Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?

Bardolph
I spake with one, my lord, that came from
A gentleman well bred and of good name,
That freely rend'red me these news for true.

Earl of Northumberland
Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent
On Tuesday last to listen after news.

Bardolph
My lord, I over-rode him on the way;
And he is furnish'd with no certainties
More than he haply may retail from me.

Earl of Northumberland
Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?

Travers
My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back
With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
With that he gave his able horse the head
And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head; and starting so,
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.

Earl of Northumberland
Ha! Again:
Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion
Had met ill luck?

Bardolph
My lord, I'll tell you what:
If my young lord your son have not the day,
Upon mine honour, for a silken point
I'll give my barony. Never talk of it.

Earl of Northumberland
Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers
Give then such instances of loss?

Bardolph
Who--he?
He was some hilding fellow that had stol'n
The horse he rode on and, upon my life,
Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.

Earl of Northumberland
Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,
Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witness'd usurpation.
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?

Morton
I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
To fright our party.

Earl of Northumberland
How doth my son and brother?
Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dread in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night
And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
This thou wouldst say: 'Your son did thus and thus;
Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas'--
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds;
But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with 'Brother, son, and all, are dead.'

Morton
Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;
But for my lord your son--

Earl of Northumberland
Why, he is dead.
See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
He that but fears the thing he would not know
Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes
That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;
Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace
And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.

Morton
You are too great to be by me gainsaid;
Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.

Earl of Northumberland
Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead.
I see a strange confession in thine eye;
Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin
To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
The tongue offends not that reports his death;
And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
Not he which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.

Bardolph
I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.

Morton
I am sorry I should force you to believe
That which I would to God I had not seen;
But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd,
To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
From whence with life he never more sprung up.
In few, his death--whose spirit lent a fire
Even to the dullest peasant in his camp--
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
From the best-temper'd courage in his troops;
For from his metal was his party steeled;
Which once in him abated, all the rest
Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
And as the thing that's heavy in itself
Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester
Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword
Had three times slain th' appearance of the King,
Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame
Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight,
Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
Is that the King hath won, and hath sent out
A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster
And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.

Earl of Northumberland
For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
Being sick, have in some measure made me well;
And as the wretch whose fever-weak'ned joints,
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,
Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'd with grief,
Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!
A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
Must glove this hand; and hence, thou sickly coif!
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron; and approach
The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring
To frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!
Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die!
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a ling'ring act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end
And darkness be the burier of the dead!

Bardolph
This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.

Morton
Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
The lives of all your loving complices
Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
You cast th' event of war, my noble lord,
And summ'd the account of chance before you said
'Let us make head.' It was your pre-surmise
That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
You knew he walk'd o'er perils on an edge,
More likely to fall in than to get o'er;
You were advis'd his flesh was capable
Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
Yet did you say 'Go forth'; and none of this,
Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth
More than that being which was like to be?

Bardolph
We all that are engaged to this loss
Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one;
And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd
Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd;
And since we are o'erset, venture again.
Come, we will put forth, body and goods.

Morton
'Tis more than time. And, my most noble lord,
I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth:
The gentle Archbishop of York is up
With well-appointed pow'rs. He is a man
Who with a double surety binds his followers.
My lord your son had only but the corpse,
But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
For that same word 'rebellion' did divide
The action of their bodies from their souls;
And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,
As men drink potions; that their weapons only
Seem'd on our side, but for their spirits and souls
This word 'rebellion'--it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop
Turns insurrection to religion.
Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind;
And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones;
Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
And more and less do flock to follow him.

Earl of Northumberland
I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
This present grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me; and counsel every man
The aptest way for safety and revenge.
Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed--
Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt

Act I, Scene 2

London. A street

Falstaff
Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?

Page
He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water;
for the party that owed it, he might have moe diseases than
knew for.

Falstaff
Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The
this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent
that intends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented
me. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is
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
my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then
have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to
worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd
an agate till now; but I will inset you neither in gold nor
silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your
master, for a jewel--the juvenal, the Prince your master,
chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard grow in
palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek; and yet
will not stick to say his face is a face-royal. God may
when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it still
a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of
and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his
father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's
out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dommelton
the satin for my short cloak and my slops?

Page
He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance
Bardolph. He would not take his band and yours; he liked not
security.

Falstaff
Let him be damn'd, like the Glutton; pray God his
be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! A rascal-yea-forsooth
bear a gentleman in hand, 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 through
them in honest taking-up, then they must stand upon security.
had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to
it with security. I look'd 'a should have sent me two and
yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me
Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of
abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it;
yet cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to light
Where's Bardolph?

Page
He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship horse.

Falstaff
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, hors'd, and wiv'd.

Page
Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the
Prince for striking him about Bardolph.

Falstaff
Wait close; I will not see him.

Lord Chief Justice
What's he that goes there?

Servant
Falstaff, an't please your lordship.

Lord Chief Justice
He that was in question for the robb'ry?

Servant
He, my lord; but he hath since done good service at
Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to
Lord John of Lancaster.

Lord Chief Justice
What, to York? Call him back again.

Servant
Sir John Falstaff!

Falstaff
Boy, tell him I am deaf.

Page
You must speak louder; my master is deaf.

Lord Chief Justice
I am sure he is, to the hearing of anything
Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him.

Servant
Sir John!

Falstaff
What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not wars?
there not employment? Doth not the King lack subjects? Do not
rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side
one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side,
it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.

Servant
You mistake me, sir.

Falstaff
Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? Setting
knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat
had said so.

Servant
I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your
soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you you in your
throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man.

Falstaff
I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that
grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou
tak'st leave, thou wert better be hang'd. You hunt counter.
Hence! Avaunt!

Servant
Sir, my lord would speak with you.

Lord Chief Justice
Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

Falstaff
My good lord! God give your lordship good time of
am glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say your
was sick; I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your
lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some
of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I
humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of your
health.

Lord Chief Justice
Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition
Shrewsbury.

Falstaff
An't please your lordship, I hear his Majesty is
with some discomfort from Wales.

Lord Chief Justice
I talk not of his Majesty. You would not come
sent for you.

Falstaff
And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fall'n into
same whoreson apoplexy.

Lord Chief Justice
Well God mend him! I pray you let me speak with

Falstaff
This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy,
please your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a
tingling.

Lord Chief Justice
What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.

Falstaff
It hath it original from much grief, from study, and
perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his
in Galen; it is a kind of deafness.

Lord Chief Justice
I think you are fall'n into the disease, for you
hear not what I say to you.

Falstaff
Very well, my lord, very well. Rather an't please
is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking,
I am troubled withal.

Lord Chief Justice
To punish you by the heels would amend the
of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician.

Falstaff
I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient.
lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me in
of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your
prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or
indeed a scruple itself.

Lord Chief Justice
I sent for you, when there were matters against
for your life, to come speak with me.

Falstaff
As I was then advis'd by my learned counsel in the
of this land-service, I did not come.

Lord Chief Justice
Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great
infamy.

Falstaff
He that buckles himself in my belt cannot live in

Lord Chief Justice
Your means are very slender, and your waste is
great.

Falstaff
I would it were otherwise; I would my means were
and my waist slenderer.

Lord Chief Justice
You have misled the youthful Prince.

Falstaff
The young Prince hath misled me. I am the fellow with
great belly, and he my dog.

Lord Chief Justice
Well, I am loath to gall a new-heal'd wound.
day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your
night's exploit on Gadshill. You may thank th' unquiet time
your quiet o'erposting that action.

Falstaff
My lord--

Lord Chief Justice
But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a
sleeping wolf.

Falstaff
To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox.

Lord Chief Justice
What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt
out.

Falstaff
A wassail candle, my lord--all tallow; if I did say
wax, my growth would approve the truth.

Lord Chief Justice
There is not a white hair in your face but
have his effect of gravity.

Falstaff
His effect of gravy, gravy,

Lord Chief Justice
You follow the young Prince up and down, like
ill angel.

Falstaff
Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light; but hope
that looks upon me will take me without weighing. And yet in
respects, I grant, I cannot go--I cannot tell. Virtue is of
little regard in these costermongers' times that true valour
turn'd berod; pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit
wasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts appertinent
man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a
gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of
that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with
bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of
youth, must confess, are wags too.

Lord Chief Justice
Do you set down your name in the scroll of
that are written down old with all the characters of age?
you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white
decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice
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!

Falstaff
My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the
afternoon, with a white head and something a round belly. For
voice--I have lost it with hallooing and singing of anthems.
approve my youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am only
in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me
a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him.
the box of the ear that the Prince gave you--he gave it like
rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have
him for it; and the young lion repents--marry, not in ashes
sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.

Lord Chief Justice
Well, God send the Prince a better companion!

Falstaff
God send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid
hands of him.

Lord Chief Justice
Well, the King hath sever'd you. I hear you are
going with Lord John of Lancaster against the Archbishop and
Earl of Northumberland.

Falstaff
Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look
pray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at home, that our
join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two
out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If it
hot day, and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would I
never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can
out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last
but it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they
have a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will needs
am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my
were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to
eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with
perpetual motion.

Lord Chief Justice
Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your
expedition!

Falstaff
Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to
forth?

Lord Chief Justice
Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient
bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousin
Westmoreland.

Falstaff
If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man can
more separate age and covetousness than 'a can part young
and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches
other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!

Page
Sir?

Falstaff
What money is in my purse?

Page
Seven groats and two pence.

Falstaff
I can get no remedy against this consumption of the
purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the
is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster;
to the Prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to
Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I
perceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. About it; you know
where to find me. [Exit PAGE] A pox of this gout! or, a
this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my
toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my
and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit
make use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.

Act I, Scene 3

York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace

Archbishop Scroop
Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;
And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes-
And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?

Lord Mowbray
I well allow the occasion of our amis;
But gladly would be better satisfied
How, in our means, we should advance ourselves
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the power and puissance of the King.

Lord Hastings
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.

Bardolph
The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:
Whether our present five and twenty thousand
May hold up head without Northumberland?

Lord Hastings
With him, we may.

Bardolph
Yea, marry, there's the point;
But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My judgment is we should not step too far
Till we had his assistance by the hand;
For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,
Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
Of aids incertain, should not be admitted.

Archbishop Scroop
'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed
It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

Bardolph
It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,
Eating the air and promise of supply,
Flatt'ring himself in project of a power
Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;
And so, with great imagination
Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And, winking, leapt into destruction.

Lord Hastings
But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.

Bardolph
Yes, if this present quality of war-
Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-
Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
We see th' appearing buds; which to prove fruit
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair
That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
And when we see the figure of the house,
Then we must rate the cost of the erection;
Which if we find outweighs ability,
What do we then but draw anew the model
In fewer offices, or at least desist
To build at all? Much more, in this great work--
Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
And set another up--should we survey
The plot of situation and the model,
Consent upon a sure foundation,
Question surveyors, know our own estate
How able such a work to undergo-
To weigh against his opposite; or else
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men;
Like one that draws the model of a house
Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost
A naked subject to the weeping clouds
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

Lord Hastings
Grant that our hopes--yet likely of fair birth--
Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
The utmost man of expectation,
I think we are so a body strong enough,
Even as we are, to equal with the King.

Bardolph
What, is the King but five and twenty thousand?

Lord Hastings
To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
Are in three heads: one power against the French,
And one against Glendower; perforce a third
Must take up us. So is the unfirm King
In three divided; and his coffers sound
With hollow poverty and emptiness.

Archbishop Scroop
That he should draw his several strengths together
And come against us in full puissance
Need not be dreaded.

Lord Hastings
If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh
Baying at his heels. Never fear that.

Bardolph
Who is it like should lead his forces hither?

Lord Hastings
The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;
But who is substituted against the French
I have no certain notice.

Archbishop Scroop
Let us on,
And publish the occasion of our arms.
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.
An habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die
Are now become enamour'd on his grave.
Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came sighing on
After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accurs'd!
Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.

Lord Mowbray
Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?

Lord Hastings
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.

Act II, Scene 1

London. A street

Mistress Quickly
Master Fang, have you ent'red the action?

Fang
It is ent'red.

Mistress Quickly
Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? Will 'a
to't?

Fang
Sirrah, where's Snare?

Mistress Quickly
O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.

Snare
Here, here.

Fang
Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.

Mistress Quickly
Yea, good Master Snare; I have ent'red him and all.

Snare
It may chance cost some of our lives, for he will stab.

Mistress Quickly
Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabb'd me in mine
house, and that most beastly. In good faith, 'a cares not
mischief he does, if his weapon be out; he will foin like any
devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

Fang
If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.

Mistress Quickly
No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow.

Fang
An I but fist him once; an 'a come but within my vice!

Mistress Quickly
I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an
infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him
Good Master Snare, let him not scape. 'A comes continuantly
Pie-corner--saving your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is
indited to dinner to the Lubber's Head in Lumbert Street, to
Master Smooth's the silkman. I pray you, since my exion is
ent'red, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be
brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a
lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne;
have been fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, from
day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There
honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass
a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.
[Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, PAGE, and BARDOLPH]
Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave,
with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and
Master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.

Falstaff
How now! whose mare's dead? What's the matter?

Fang
Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.

Falstaff
Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph. Cut me off the
head. Throw the quean in the channel.

Mistress Quickly
Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the
Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder!
thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and
King's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed; a
man-queller and a woman-queller.

Falstaff
Keep them off, Bardolph.

Fang
A rescue! a rescue!

Mistress Quickly
Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wot, wot
thou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!

Page
Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian!
I'll tickle your catastrophe.

Lord Chief Justice
What is the matter? Keep the peace here, ho!

Mistress Quickly
Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to

Lord Chief Justice
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 upon him?

Mistress Quickly
O My most worshipful lord, an't please your Grace, I
poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.

Lord Chief Justice
For what sum?

Mistress Quickly
It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all--all
have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all
substance into that fat belly of his. But I will have some of
out again, or I will ride thee a nights like a mare.

Falstaff
I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any
vantage of ground to get up.

Lord Chief Justice
How comes this, Sir John? Fie! What man of good
temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not
ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come
her own?

Falstaff
What is the gross sum that I owe thee?

Mistress Quickly
Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the
too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet,
my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire,
Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head for
liking his father to singing-man of Windsor--thou didst swear
me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me
lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech,
butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly?
in to borrow a mess of vinegar, telling us she had a good
prawns, whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told
thee they were ill for green wound? And didst thou not, when
was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity
such poor people, saying that ere long they should call me
And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch the thirty
shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it, if thou
canst.

Falstaff
My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says up and
down the town that her eldest son is like you. She hath been
good case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her.
for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redress
against them.

Lord Chief Justice
Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with
manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a
confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such
than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level
consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practis'd upon
easy yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your
both in purse and in person.

Mistress Quickly
Yea, in truth, my lord.

Lord Chief Justice
Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her,
unpay the villainy you have done with her; the one you may do
with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.

Falstaff
My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply.
call honourable boldness impudent sauciness; if a man will
curtsy and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my
duty rememb'red, I will not be your suitor. I say to you I do
desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty
employment in the King's affairs.

Lord Chief Justice
You speak as having power to do wrong; but
th' effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman.

Falstaff
Come hither, hostess.

Lord Chief Justice
Now, Master Gower, what news?

Gower
The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
Are near at hand. The rest the paper tells. [Gives a letter]

Falstaff
As I am a gentleman!

Mistress Quickly
Faith, you said so before.

Falstaff
As I am a gentleman! Come, no more words of it.

Mistress Quickly
By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to
both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.

Falstaff
Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and for thy
walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the
the German hunting, in water-work, is worth a thousand of
bed-hangers and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten
if thou canst. Come, and 'twere not for thy humours, there's
a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw the
action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost
know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.

Mistress Quickly
Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles;
i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la!

Falstaff
Let it alone; I'll make other shift. You'll be a fool
still.

Mistress Quickly
Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown.
I hope you'll come to supper. you'll pay me all together?

Falstaff
Will I live? [To BARDOLPH] Go, with her, with her;
on, hook on.

Mistress Quickly
Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?

Falstaff
No more words; let's have her.

Lord Chief Justice
I have heard better news.

Falstaff
What's the news, my lord?

Lord Chief Justice
Where lay the King to-night?

Gower
At Basingstoke, my lord.

Falstaff
I hope, my lord, all's well. What is the news, my

Lord Chief Justice
Come all his forces back?

Gower
No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,
Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster,
Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.

Falstaff
Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord?

Lord Chief Justice
You shall have letters of me presently.
Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.

Falstaff
My lord!

Lord Chief Justice
What's the matter?

Falstaff
Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?

Gower
I must wait upon my good lord here, I thank you, good
John.

Lord Chief Justice
Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you
take soldiers up in counties as you go.

Falstaff
Will you sup with me, Master Gower?

Lord Chief Justice
What foolish master taught you these manners,
John?

Falstaff
Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool
taught them me. This is the right fencing grace, my lord; tap
tap, and so part fair.

Lord Chief Justice
Now, the Lord lighten thee! Thou art a great

Act II, Scene 2

London. Another street

Henry V
Before God, I am exceeding weary.

Edward Poins
Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not
attach'd one of so high blood.

Henry V
Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion
my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me
desire small beer?

Edward Poins
Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to
remember so weak a composition.

Henry V
Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, by
troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But
indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with
greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name,
to know thy face to-morrow, or to take note how many pair of
stockings thou hast--viz., these, and those that were thy
peach-colour'd ones--or to bear the inventory of thy shirts-
one for superfluity, and another for use! But that the
tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb
linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thou
not done a great while, because the rest of thy low countries
have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows
those that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen shall inherit
kingdom; but the midwives say the children are not in the
whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily
strengthened.

Edward Poins
How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you
should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes
do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is?

Henry V
Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?

Edward Poins
Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.

Henry V
It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than

Edward Poins
Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will
tell.

Henry V
Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad,
my father is sick; albeit I could tell to thee--as to one it
pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend--I could
sad and sad indeed too.

Edward Poins
Very hardly upon such a subject.

Henry V
By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil's
as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the
try the man. But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly that my
father is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou art
in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.

Edward Poins
The reason?

Henry V
What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep?

Edward Poins
I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.

Henry V
It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed
fellow to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought in
world keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would
me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
thought to think so?

Edward Poins
Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffed
Falstaff.

Henry V
And to thee.

Edward Poins
By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it with
own ears. The worst that they can say of me is that I am a
brother and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those
things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes
Bardolph.

Henry V
And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A had him from me
Christian; and look if the fat villain have not transform'd
ape.

Bardolph
God save your Grace!

Henry V
And yours, most noble Bardolph!

Edward Poins
Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you be
blushing? Wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly
are you become! Is't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's
maidenhead?

Page
'A calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, and
could discern no part of his face from the window. At last I
spied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in the
alewife's new petticoat, and so peep'd through.

Henry V
Has not the boy profited?

Bardolph
Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!

Page
Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away!

Henry V
Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?

Page
Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamt she was delivered of a
firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.

Henry V
A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis,

Edward Poins
O that this blossom could be kept from cankers!
Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.

Bardolph
An you do not make him be hang'd among you, the
shall have wrong.

Henry V
And how doth thy master, Bardolph?

Bardolph
Well, my lord. He heard of your Grace's coming to
There's a letter for you.

Edward Poins
Deliver'd with good respect. And how doth the martlemas,
your master?

Bardolph
In bodily health, sir.

Edward Poins
Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that
not him. Though that be sick, it dies not.

Henry V
I do allow this well to be as familiar with me as my
and he holds his place, for look you how he writes.

Edward Poins
[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight'--Every man must know
as oft as he has occasion to name himself, even like those
are kin to the King; for they never prick their finger but
say 'There's some of the King's blood spilt.' 'How comes
says he that takes upon him not to conceive. The answer is as
ready as a borrower's cap: 'I am the King's poor cousin,

Henry V
Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from
Japhet. But the letter: [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight,
the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of
greeting.'

Edward Poins
Why, this is a certificate.

Henry V
Peace! [Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans
brevity.'-

Edward Poins
He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded.

Henry V
[Reads] 'I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I
leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses
favours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sister
Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell.
Thine, by yea and no--which is as much as to say as
thou usest him--JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars,
JOHN with my brothers and sisters, and SIR JOHN with
all Europe.'

Edward Poins
My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat

Henry V
That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you
me thus, Ned? Must I marry your sister?

Edward Poins
God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said

Henry V
Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the
of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master
London?

Bardolph
Yea, my lord.

Henry V
Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

Bardolph
At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.

Henry V
What company?

Page
Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.

Henry V
Sup any women with him?

Page
None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll
Tearsheet.

Henry V
What pagan may that be?

Page
A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my

Henry V
Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town
Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Edward Poins
I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.

Henry V
Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master
I am yet come to town. There's for your silence.

Bardolph
I have no tongue, sir.

Page
And for mine, sir, I will govern it.

Henry V
Fare you well; go. Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE
This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.

Edward Poins
I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Albans
London.

Henry V
How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in
true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

Edward Poins
Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon
his table as drawers.

Henry V
From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It was Jove's
case. From a prince to a prentice? A low transformation! That
shall be mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh with
folly. Follow me, Ned.

Act II, Scene 3

Warkworth. Before the castle

Earl of Northumberland
I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,
Give even way unto my rough affairs;
Put not you on the visage of the times
And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.

Lady Northumberland
I have given over, I will speak no more.
Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.

Earl of Northumberland
Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;
And but my going nothing can redeem it.

Lady Percy
O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those who could speak low and tardily
Would turn their own perfection to abuse
To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd others. And him--O wondrous him!
O miracle of men!--him did you leave--
Second to none, unseconded by you--
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage, to abide a field
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible. So you left him.
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others than with him! Let them alone.
The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

Earl of Northumberland
Beshrew your heart,
Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
With new lamenting ancient oversights.
But I must go and meet with danger there,
Or it will seek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.

Lady Northumberland
O, fly to Scotland
Till that the nobles and the armed commons
Have of their puissance made a little taste.

Lady Percy
If they get ground and vantage of the King,
Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
First let them try themselves. So did your son;
He was so suff'red; so came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.

Earl of Northumberland
Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back.
I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt

Act II, Scene 4

London. The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap

Francis
What the devil hast thou brought there-apple-johns?
knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.

Second Drawer
Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set a
of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more
Johns; and, putting off his hat, said 'I will now take my
of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It ang'red
to the heart; but he hath forgot that.

Francis
Why, then, cover and set them down; and see if thou
find out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear
music.

Third Drawer
Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
they'll come in straight.

Francis
Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon;
they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John
not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.

Third Drawer
By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be an
excellent stratagem.

Second Drawer
I'll see if I can find out Sneak.

Mistress Quickly
I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an
good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as
would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as
rose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too
canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it
the blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?

Doll Tearsheet
Better than I was--hem.

Mistress Quickly
Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold.
Lo, here comes Sir John.

Falstaff
[Singing] 'When Arthur first in court'--Empty the
Jordan. [Exit FRANCIS]--[Singing] 'And was a worthy king'--
now, Mistress Doll!

Mistress Quickly
Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.

Falstaff
So is all her sect; and they be once in a calm, they
sick.

Doll Tearsheet
A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfort
give me?

Falstaff
You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.

Doll Tearsheet
I make them! Gluttony and diseases make them: I make them
not.

Falstaff
If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to
the diseases, Doll. We catch of you, Doll, we catch of you;
that, my poor virtue, grant that.

Doll Tearsheet
Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.

Falstaff
'Your brooches, pearls, and ouches.' For to serve
is to come halting off; you know, to come off the breach with
pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon
charg'd chambers bravely--

Doll Tearsheet
Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

Mistress Quickly
By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never
but you fall to some discord. You are both, i' good truth, as
rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with
confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that
you. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier
vessel.

Doll Tearsheet
Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?
There's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him;
have not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'll
friends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars; and
I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.

Francis
Sir, Ancient Pistol's below and would speak with you.

Doll Tearsheet
Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither; it
the foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.

Mistress Quickly
If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith!
must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am in
name and fame with the very best. Shut the door. There comes
swaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to have
swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.

Falstaff
Dost thou hear, hostess?

Mistress Quickly
Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes no
swaggerers here.

Falstaff
Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.

Mistress Quickly
Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me; and your ancient
swagg'rer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick,
debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me--'twas no longer
than Wednesday last, i' good faith!--'Neighbour Quickly,'
he--Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then--'Neighbour
says he 'receive those that are civil, for' said he 'you are
an ill name.' Now 'a said so, I can tell whereupon. 'For'
'you are an honest woman and well thought on, therefore take
what guests you receive. Receive' says he 'no swaggering
companions.' There comes none here. You would bless you to
what he said. No, I'll no swagg'rers.

Falstaff
He's no swagg'rer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith;
may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He'll not
with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of
resistance. Call him up, drawer.

Mistress Quickly
Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my
nor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth. I
the worse when one says 'swagger.' Feel, masters, how I
look you, I warrant you.

Doll Tearsheet
So you do, hostess.

Mistress Quickly
Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen
cannot abide swagg'rers.

Pistol
God save you, Sir John!

Falstaff
Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you
a cup of sack; do you discharge upon mine hostess.

Pistol
I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.

Falstaff
She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly offend
her.

Mistress Quickly
Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I'll drink
more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

Pistol
Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.

Doll Tearsheet
Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor,
base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy
rogue, away! I am meat for your master.

Pistol
I know you, Mistress Dorothy.

Doll Tearsheet
Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By
wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play
saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you
basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir?
God's light, with two points on your shoulder? Much!

Pistol
God let me not live but I will murder your ruff for

Falstaff
No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here.
Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.

Mistress Quickly
No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

Doll Tearsheet
Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not
to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would
truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you
have earn'd them. You a captain! you slave, for what? For
a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,
rogue! He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A
captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as
as the word 'occupy'; which was an excellent good word before
was ill sorted. Therefore captains had need look to't.

Bardolph
Pray thee go down, good ancient.

Falstaff
Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.

Pistol
Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could
her; I'll be reveng'd of her.

Page
Pray thee go down.

Pistol
I'll see her damn'd first; to Pluto's damn'd lake, by
hand, to th' infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile
Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors!
we not Hiren here?

Mistress Quickly
Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i'
beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

Pistol
These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,
And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,
Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Mistress Quickly
By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.

Bardolph
Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl

Pistol
Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we not
here?

Mistress Quickly
O' my word, Captain, there's none such here. What the
good-year! do you think I would deny her? For God's sake, be
quiet.

Pistol
Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
Come, give's some sack.
'Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.'
Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire.
Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there.
[Laying down his sword]
Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothings?

Falstaff
Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pistol
Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen the
stars.

Doll Tearsheet
For God's sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure
fustian rascal.

Pistol
Thrust him down stairs! Know we not Galloway nags?

Falstaff
Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
Nay, an 'a do nothing but speak nothing, 'a shall be nothing
here.

Bardolph
Come, get you down stairs.

Pistol
What! shall we have incision? Shall we imbrue?
[Snatching up his sword]
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!

Mistress Quickly
Here's goodly stuff toward!

Falstaff
Give me my rapier, boy.

Doll Tearsheet
I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.

Falstaff
Get you down stairs.

Mistress Quickly
Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house
I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant
Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked

Doll Tearsheet
I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you
whoreson little valiant villain, you!

Mistress Quickly
Are you not hurt i' th' groin? Methought 'a made a
thrust at your belly.

Falstaff
Have you turn'd him out a doors?

Bardolph
Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir,
th' shoulder.

Falstaff
A rascal! to brave me!

Doll Tearsheet
Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you whoreson
chops. Ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous
Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better
than the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!

Falstaff
A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Doll Tearsheet
Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou dost, I'll
thee between a pair of sheets.

Page
The music is come, sir.

Falstaff
Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Don. A
bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quick-silver.

Doll Tearsheet
I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up
old body for heaven?
Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers

Falstaff
Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head;
not bid me remember mine end.

Doll Tearsheet
Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?

Falstaff
A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have made a
pantler; 'a would ha' chipp'd bread well.

Doll Tearsheet
They say Poins has a good wit.

Falstaff
He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit's as thick
Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in
mallet.

Doll Tearsheet
Why does the Prince love him so, then?

Falstaff
Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'a
quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off
ends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys,
jumps upon join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, and
his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, and
no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other
faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for
which the Prince admits him. For the Prince himself is such
another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between
avoirdupois.

Henry V
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

Edward Poins
Let's beat him before his whore.

Henry V
Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.

Edward Poins
Is it not strange that desire should so many years
performance?

Falstaff
Kiss me, Doll.

Henry V
Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says
almanac to that?

Edward Poins
And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
to his master's old tables, his note-book, his

Falstaff
Thou dost give me flattering busses.

Doll Tearsheet
By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

Falstaff
I am old, I am old.

Doll Tearsheet
I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
them all.

Falstaff
What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive
Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.

Doll Tearsheet
By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.
hearken a' th' end.

Falstaff
Some sack, Francis.

Henry V
[with POINS:] Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]

Falstaff
Ha! a bastard son of the King's? And art thou not
his brother?

Henry V
Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost
lead!

Falstaff
A better than thou. I am a gentleman: thou art a

Henry V
Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Mistress Quickly
O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcome
London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

Falstaff
Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.

Doll Tearsheet
How, you fat fool! I scorn you.

Edward Poins
My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn
to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

Henry V
YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

Mistress Quickly
God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by
troth.

Falstaff
Didst thou hear me?

Henry V
Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
Gadshill. You knew I was at your back, and spoke it on
try my patience.

Falstaff
No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within
hearing.

Henry V
I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and
then I know how to handle you.

Falstaff
No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.

Henry V
Not to dispraise me, and call me pander, and
bread-chipper, and I know not what!

Falstaff
No abuse, Hal.

Edward Poins
No abuse!

Falstaff
No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I
disprais'd him before the wicked--that the wicked might not
in love with thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a
careful friend and a true subject; and thy father is to give
thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no, faith,
none.

Henry V
See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth
make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us?
she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is
boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in
nose, of the wicked?

Edward Poins
Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

Falstaff
The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable;
his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing
roast malt-worms. For the boy--there is a good angel about
but the devil outbids him too.

Henry V
For the women?

Falstaff
For one of them--she's in hell already, and burns
souls. For th' other--I owe her money; and whether she be
for that, I know not.

Mistress Quickly
No, I warrant you.

Falstaff
No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for
Marry, there is another indictment upon thee for suffering
to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which
think thou wilt howl.

Mistress Quickly
All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or two
whole Lent?

Henry V
You, gentlewoman--

Doll Tearsheet
What says your Grace?

Falstaff
His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against.

Mistress Quickly
Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door there,
Francis.

Henry V
Peto, how now! What news?

Peto
The King your father is at Westminster;
And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north; and as I came along
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.

Henry V
By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.

Falstaff
Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we
must hence, and leave it unpick'd. [Knocking within] More
knocking at the door!
[Re-enter BARDOLPH]
How now! What's the matter?

Bardolph
You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.

Falstaff
[To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.--Farewell,
hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of
merit are sought after; the undeserver may sleep, when the
action is call'd on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent
away post, I will see you again ere I go.

Doll Tearsheet
I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!
Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

Falstaff
Farewell, farewell.

Mistress Quickly
Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these
years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted

Bardolph
[Within] Mistress Tearsheet!

Mistress Quickly
What's the matter?

Bardolph
[Within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.

Mistress Quickly
O, run Doll, run, run, good Come. [To BARDOLPH] She
comes blubber'd.--Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt