. And not the king himself. I have two boys, Doug. I fear, thou art another counterfeit; And yet, in faith. thou bear'st thee like a king: But mine, I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be, And thus I win thee. [They fight; the KING being in danger, enter PRINCE HENRY. P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like Never to hold it up again! the spirits [They fight, DOUGLAS flies. P. Hen. O heaven! they did me too much injury That ever said I hearken'd for your death. If it were so, I might have let alone The insulting hand of Douglas over you; Which would have been as speedy in your end, As all the poisonous potions in the world, And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son. K. Hen. Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. [Exit KING HENRY. Enter HOTSpur. Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. P. Hen. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name. Hot. My name is Harry Percy. P. Hen. Why, then I see A very valiant rebel of the name. I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere; Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come Thy name in arms were now as great as mine! And all the budding honours on thy crest Enter FALSTAFF. [They fight. Fal. Well said, Hal! To it, Hal!-Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you. Enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls. Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth! I better brook the loss of brittle life, Than those proud titles thou hast won of me: They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh. But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop. O, I could prophesyth But that the earthy and cold hand of Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust, [Dies. P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy! Fare thee well, great heart! Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! A kingdom for it was too small a bound: But now, two paces of the vilest earth ls room enough. This earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. If thou wert sensible of courtesy, I should not make so dear a show of zeal: Thy ignomy sleep with thee in the grave, [He sees FALSTAFF on the ground. [Exit. Fal. [Rising slowly.] Embowell'd!-If thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me too, to-morrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me Scot and lot too. Counterfeit! I lie-I am no counterfeit. To die is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life. Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit: therefore I'll make him sure, yea, and I'll swear I killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, [stabbing him], with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. [Takes HOTSPUR on his back. Upon the ground. Art thou alive? Or is it phantasy That plays upon our eyesight? I pr'ythee speak; Fal. No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a jack. There is Percy [throwing the body down]: if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you. P. Hen. Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead. Fal. Didst thou? Lord, lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down, and out of breath, and so was he; but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believed, so; if not, let them that should reward valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'd take it upon my death I gave him this wound in the thigh; if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eat a piece of my sword. P. John. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard. P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother John. Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have. [A retreat is sounded. The trumpet sounds retreat-the day is ours. Come, brother, let's to the highest of the field, To see what friends are living, who are dead. [Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and PRINCE JOHN. Fal. I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for l'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do. [Exit bearing off the body. SCENE V.-Another part of the Field. The trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, PRINCE JOHN, WESTMORELAND, and others, with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners. K. Hen. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke. Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust? If, like a Christian, thou hadst truly borne Wor. What I have, done my safety urg'd me to; K. Hen. Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too; Other offenders we will pause upon. [Eveunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded. How goes the field? P. Hen. The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he With all my heart. K. Hen. P. Hen. Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you, This honourable bounty shall belong: Go to the Douglas, and deliver him` Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free; His valour, shown upon our crests to-day, Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, K. Hen. Then this remains, that we divide our power; You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland, Towards York shall bend you, with your dearest speed, To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop; Myself and you, son Harry, will toward Wales, [Exeunt. SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV. Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,- Can play upon it. But what need I thus My well-known body to anatomise Among my household ? Why is Rumour here? Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, And not a man of them brings other news Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. North. How is this derived? Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury? A gentleman well bred, and of good name, sent On Tuesday last to listen after news. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; Enter TRAVERS. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back North. Ha!-Again! Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Had met ill-luck? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what: If my young lord, your son, hath not the day, Upon mine honour, for a silken point I'll give my barony: never talk of it. And would have told him half his Troy was burn'd; North. Why, he is dead. ton: Tell thou thy earl his divination lies; Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid: Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. From whence with life he never more sprung up. And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn. In poison there is physic; and these news, North. Why should the gentleman that rode by Having been well, that would have made me sick, North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your Mor. The lives of all your loving 'complices And summ'd the account of chance, before you said Of wounds and scars; and that his forward spirit Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss, Mor. 'Tis more than time; and my most noble I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, Of fair King Richard, scap'd from Pomfret stones: North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, Get posts and letters, and make friends with speech, Never so few, and never yet more need. SCENE II.-London. A Street. [Eneunt. Enter Sir JOHN FASTAFF, with his Page, bearing his sword and buckler. Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? Page. He said, sir, the water of itself was good, healthy water: but for the party that owed it, he might have more diseases than he knew for. Ful. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me; the brain of this foolish compounded clay, man, is not able to vent anything that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate till now; but I will set 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, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak and slops? Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security. Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! may his tongue be hotter !-A whoreson Achitophel! A ras cally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security!-The whoreson smoothpates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon -security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it; and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him.-Where's Bardolph ? Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your wor ship a horse. Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, and an Attendant. Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph. Ful. Wait close, I will not see him. Ch. Just. What's he that goes there? Atten. Falstaff, an't please your lordship. Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? Atten. He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the lord John of Lancaster. Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again. Fal. Boy, tell him I am deaf. Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf. Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.-Go pluck him on the elbow; I must speak with him. Atten. Sir John Fal. What, a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars is there not employment? doth not the king lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. Atten. You mistake me, sir. Fal. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat if I had said so. Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man. Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that which grows to me. If thou gett'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged; you hunt counter, hence, avaunt! Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Jus. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord.-God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad; I heard say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the salt of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of your health. Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury. Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales. Ch. Jus. I talk not of his majesty: You would not come when I sent for you. Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into this whoreson apoplexy. Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray let me speak with you. Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling. Ch. Jus. What tell you me of it? Be it as it is. Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from study, and perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of its effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness. Ch. Jus. I think you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you. Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. Ch. Jus. To punish you by the heels would mend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician. Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me, in respect to 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. Ch. Jus. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me. Ful. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Ch. Jus. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. Fal. He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. Ch. Jus. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. Fal. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater, and my waist slenderer. Ch. Jus. You have misled the youthful prince. Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. Ch. Jus. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound; your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads-hill; you may thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'erposting that action. Fal. My lord? Ch. Jus. But, since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf. Fal. To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. Ch. Jus. What! you are as a candle the better part burnt out. Fal. A wassel candle, my lord; all tallow: if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. Ch. Jus. There is not a white hair on your face, but should have his effect of gravity. Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Jus. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill-angel. Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill-angel is light: but, I hope, he that looks upon me, will take me without weighing; and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell; virtue is of so little regard in these coster-monger times, that true valour is turned bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young: you measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too. You Ch. Jus. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old, with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John. Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head and somewhat of a round belly. For my voice,-I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money and have at him. For the box o'the ear that the prince gave you,-he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it; and the young lion repents: marry, not in ashes, and sackcloth; but in new silk, and old sack. Ch Jus. Well, heaven send the prince a better companion. Fal. Heaven send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him. Ch. Jus. Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster against the archbishop and the Earl of Northumverland. Fal. Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it.But look you, pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would Í might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever: but it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is! I were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. Ch. Jus. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your expedition! Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth? Ch. Jus. Not a penny-not a penny; you are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well; commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. [Exeunt CHIEF JUSTICE and Attendant. Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle.-A man can no more separate age and covetousness, than he can part young limbs and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! Page. Sir. Fal. What money is in my purse? Page. Seven groats and twopence. Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable. Go, bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chiu. About it; you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox!-for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. [Exit. SCENE III.--York. A room in the Archbishop's Palace. Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the Lords HASTINGS MOWBRAY and BARDOLPH. Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and known our means: And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file Eard. The question, then, Lord Hastings, standeth Eating the air on promise of supply, Proper to madmen, led his power to death, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, |