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P. Hen. And to thee.

Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear it with mine own ears: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a

profellow of my hands; and those two things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.

P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had him from me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not transformed him ape.

Enter BARDOLPH and Page.

Bard. 'Save your grace!

P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph!

Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, [To the Page] you bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you become! Is it such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead?

Page. He called me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I 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 peeped through.

P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away! P. Hen. Instruct us, boy: What dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was delivered of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation.There it is, boy. [Gives him Money. Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from cankers!-Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among you, the gallows shall have wrong.

P. Hen. And how doth thy master, Bardolph? Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to town; there's a letter for you.

P. Hen. Delivered with good respect.-And how doth the martlemas, your master?

Bard. In bodily health, sir.

Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician: but that moves not him; though that be sick, it dies not.

P. Hen. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog: and he holds his place; for, look you, how he writes.

Poins. [Reads] John Falstaff, knight.—Every man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself. Even like those that are kin to the king; for they never prick their finger, but they say, There is some of the king's blood spilt: How comes that? 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, sir. P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But the letter:-

Poins. Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the king, nearest his father, Harry, prince of Wales, greeting.— Why, this is a certificate.

P. Hen. Peace!

Poins. I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity:-he sure means brevity in breadth; short-winded. -1 commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may'st, 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.

My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and make him eat it.

P. Hen. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? Poins. May the wench have no worse fortune! but I never said so.

P. Hen. Well, thus we play the fools with the time; and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds, and mock us. Is your master here in London?

Bard. Yes, my lord.

P. Hen. Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

Bard. At the old place, my lord; in Eastcheap.
P. Hen. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church.
P. Hen. Sup any women with him?

Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and mistress Doll Tear-sheet.

of

P. Hen. What pagan may that be?

Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman

my

master's.

P. Hen. Even such kin, as the parish heifers are to the town bull.-Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy,-and Bardolph ;-no word to your master, that I am yet come to town: There's for your silence.

Bard. I have no tongue, sir.

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

P. Hen. Fare ye well; go. [Exeunt Bardolph and Page]-This Doll Tear-sheet should be some road. Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between St. Alban's and London.

P. Hen. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen! Poins. Put on two leather-jerkins, and aprons, and wait upon him at his table, as drawers.

P. Hen. 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 every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. WARK WORTH. Before the Castle. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY.

North. 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 N. I have given over, I will speak no more: Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.

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

Lady P. 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,-may heavenly glory 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 practised not his gait:
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant:

For those that 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.

North.

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 N.

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

Lady P. 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 suffer'd; 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.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with my mind,
As with the tide swell'd up unto its 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.

SCENE IV. LONDON. A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern, in Eastcheap.

Enter two Drawers.

1 Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-Johns? thou know'st, sir John cannot endure an apple-John.

2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true: The prince once set a dish of apple-Johns before him, and told him, there were five more sir Johns: and, putting off his hat, said, I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, wither'd knights. It angered him to the heart: but he hath forgot that.

1 Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down: And see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Despatch:-The

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