I will to dinner. Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can I; or so can any man: But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command The devil. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil.If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. Mort. Come, come, No more of this unprofitable chat. Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye, And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him, Bootless home, and weather-beaten back. Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too! How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? According to our three-fold order ta'en? Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. 4 Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours: It shall not wind with such a deep indent, Let me not understand you then, Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you; For I was train'd up in the English court: Where, being but young, I framed to the harp Many an English ditty, lovely well, And gave the tongue a helpful ornament; A virtue that was never seen in you. I I Hol. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart, had rather be a kitten, and cry-mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers: had rather hear a brazen canstick' turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry; 'Tis like the forc'd gate of a shuffling nag. Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. Hot. I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land To any well-deserving friend; But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? Glend. The moon shines fair, you may away by night: 8 I'll haste the writer, and, withal, · [Erit. Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me With telling me of the moldwarp10 and the ant, Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies; And of a dragon and a finless fish, A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven, A couching lion, and a ramping cat, And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,He held me, but last night, at least nine hours In reckoning up the several devils' names, That were his lackeys I cried, humph,-and well,-go to, But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious Worse than a smoky house:-I had rather live Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must; you see, it As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? doth. Mort. Yea, He holds your temper in a high respect, But mark, how he bears his course, and runs When you do cross his humour; faith, he does: I warrant you, that man is not alive, And since your coming hither have done enough Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me,- Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. Shall follow in your conduct' speedily. and she answers him in the same. Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish selfwill'd harlotry, One no persuasion can do good upon. [Lady M. speaks to Mortimer in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens, I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, [Lady M. speaks. I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, Upon the wanton rushes lay you down, By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. And those musicians that shall play to you, Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose. Hot. Now I perceive, the devil understands And 'tis no marvel, he's so humorous. Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical; for you are altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. Lady P. Would'st thou have thy head broken? Lady P. Then be still. Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed. Hot. Peace! she sings. A Welsh SONG sung by Lady M. like a comfit-maker's wife! Not you, in good sooth And giv'st such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red- As hot lord Percy is on fire to go. Mort. With all my heart. [Exe. SCENE II.-London. A room in the palace. En- K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the prince of Must have some conference: But be near at hand, [Exeunt Lords. I know not whether God will have it so, Such barren pleasures, rude society, Accompany the greatness of thy blood, P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would I could Glendower speaks some Welsh words, and then the Quit all offences with as clear excuse, music plays. As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge Myself of many I am charg'd withal : I may, for some things true, wherein my youth Find pardon on my true submission. Which now doth that I would not have i do, As thou art to this hour, was Richard then K. Hen. God pardon thee!-yet let me wonder, Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot, Harry, At thy affections, which do hold a wing That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Had his great name profaned with their scorns; That being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes, But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down, Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more; He hath more worthy interest to the state, Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ? Capitulate" against us, and are up. But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? P. Hen. Do not think so, you shall not find it so; And I will die a hundred thousand deaths, ignis fatuus, or a ball of wildfire, there's no pur chase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, -an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night, betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me, would have bought me lights as good cheap, at the dearest How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word, That Douglas, and the English rebels, met, A mighty and a fearful head they are, If promises be kept on every hand, As ever offer'd foul play in a state. K. Hen. The earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day: : With him my son, lord John of Lancaster; count, salamander of yours with fire, any time this two Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be How now, dame Partlet the hen ? have you inquired yet, who pick'd my pocket? Host. Why, sir John! what do you think, sir John? Do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before. Fal. You lie, hostess; Bardolph was shaved, and lost many a hair: and I'll be sworn, my pocket was picked: Go to, you are a woman, go. Host. Who, I? I defy thee: I was never called so in mine own house before. Fal. Go to, I know you well enough. Our business valued, some twelve days hence some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. money lent you, four and twenty pound. Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor? look upon his face; What call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his Fal. Why, there is it :-come, sing me a bawdy cheeks; I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make song; make me merry, I was as virtuously given, a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough: swore inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have little; diced, not above seven times a week; went lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's, worth forty to a bawdy-house, not above once in a quarter-mark. Host. O Jesu! I have heard the prince tell him, of an hour; paid money that I borrowed, three or four times; lived well, and in good compass: and I know not how oft, that that ring was copper. now I live out of all order, out of all compass. Fal. How! the prince is a Jack," a sneak-cup; Bard. Why, you are so fat, sir John, that you and, if he were here, I would cudgel him like a must needs be out of all compass; out of all rea-dog, if he would say so. sonable compass, sir John. Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: Thou art our admiral,' thou bearest the lantern in the poop,-but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the knight of the burning lamp. Enter Prince Henry and Poins, marching. Falstaff meets the Prince, playing on his truncheon like a fife. Fal. How now, lad? is the wind in that door, i'faith? must we all march? Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion. P. Hen. What sayest thou, mistress Quickly How does thy husband? I love him well, he is a. honest man. Bard. Why, sir John, my face does you no harm. Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a death's head, or a memento mori: I never see thy face, but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be, By this fire: but thou art Fal. Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me. altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for P. Hen. What sayest thou, Jack? the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind When thou ran'st up Gads-hill in the night to catch the arras, and had my pocket picked: this house, my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an Host. Good my lord, hear me. (6) In the story-book of Reynard the Fox. (7) A term of contempt frequently used by Shakspeare. SE is turned bawdy-house, they pick pockets. poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villany? Thou P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack? seest, I have more flesh than another man; and Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four therefore more frailty.You confess then, you bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my picked my pocket? grandfather's. P. Hen. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said, I heard your grace say so: And, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he s; and said, he would cudgel you. P. Hen. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womannood in me else. a P. Hen. There's no more faith in thee than in stewed prune; nor no more truth in thee, than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, maid Marian' may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go. Host. Say, what thing? what thing? Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God on. Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. Host. Say, what beast, thou knave thou? P. Hen. An otter, sir John? why an otter? Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou! P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly. Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day, you ought him a thousand pound. P. Hen. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said, he would cudgel you. Fal. Did I, Bardolph ? Bard. Indeed, sir John, you said so. Fal. Yea; if he said, my ring was copper. good as thy word now? P. Hen. It appears so by the story. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest, I am pacified.—Still ? -Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Erit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,— How is that answered? P. Hen. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee:-The money is paid back again. Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour. P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing. Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too. Bard. Do, my lord. P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. I Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the age of two and twenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them. P. Hen. Bardolph Bard. My lord. P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of My brother John; this to my lord of Westmore- Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou, and I, Meet me to morrow i'the Temple hall, Money, and order for their furniture. [Exeunt Prince, Poins, and Bardolph. Fal. Rare words! brave world!-Hostess, my breakfast, come : Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but O, I could wish, this tavern were my drum. [Erit. man, I dare: but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. P. Hen. And why not, as the lion? Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion: Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God, my girdle break! ACT IV. SCENE 1.-The rebel camp, near Shrewsbury. P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas. about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine: it Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: If speaking truth, is filled up with guts, and midriff. Charge an In this fine age, were not thought flattery, honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou Such attribution should the Douglas' have, whores, impudent, embossed' rascal, if there As not a soldier of this season's stamp were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, Should go so general current through the world. memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy penny-worth of sugar-candy, to make thee long- The tongues of soothers; but a braver place winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself: other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord. you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Doug. Thou art the king of honour: Art thou not ashamed? No man so potent breathes upon the ground, But I will beard' him. Hot. Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should (1) A man dressed like a woman, who attends morris-dancers. (2) Swoln, puffy. Do so, and 'tis well : : (3) This expression is applied by way of preeminence to the head of the Douglas family. (4) Disdain. (5) Meet him face to face. |