An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? Boling. Good aunt, stand up. Come, little ones; and then again, It is as hard to come, as for a camel Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. With all my heart A god on earth thou art. Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law, -and And so I am : Then crushing penury -- Persuades me I was better when a king; | For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock : Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Groom. Hail, royal prince! Thanks, noble peer; Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down, Of that proud man, that did usurp his back? Enter Keeper, with a dish. Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay. [To the Groom. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. [Erit. Keep. My lord, wilt please you to fall to? who Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land. Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. [Dies. Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood: Both have I spilt; O, would the deed were good! For now the devil, that told me - I did well, Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell. This dead king to the living king I'll bear? Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt. Is - A Room in the Castle Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE and YORK, with Lords and Attendants. Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news ve hear that the rebels have consum'd with fire Our town of Cicester in Glostershire; But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear not. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Welcome, my lord: What is the news? The next news is, piness. North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all hap I have to London sent The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: The manner of their taking may appear At large discoursed in this paper here. [Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Enter FITZWATER. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely; Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Enter PERCY, with the BISHOP OF CARLISLE. Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westminster, With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom : — Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a coffin. A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, this deed. Boling. They love not poison that do poison need, To wash this blood off from my guilty hand: - SCENE I. ACT I. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, SCENE II. The same. Palace. K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy land. West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; And shape of likelihood, the news was told; K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Betwixt that Hoinedon and this seat of ours; Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights, On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur took Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son It is a conquest for a prince coast of. K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and In envy that my lord Northumberland A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue; Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd, you, coz', Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, cester, Malevolent to you in all aspects; Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity. K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this: And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we [Exeunt. Another Room in the Enter HENRY, Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame colour'd taffata; I see no reason, why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus, he, that wandering knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,―as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,) P. Hen. What! none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. P. Hen. Thou say 'st well; and it holds well too : for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying bring in now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder: and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent, But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! brave judge. By the Lord, I'll be a P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. P. Hen. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similies; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince, But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration: and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned, for never a king's son in Christendom. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking. Enter POINS, at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried, Stand to a true man. P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says monsieur Remorse? What says sir John Sack-andSugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-friday last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg? P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil. P. Hen. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil. Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are vilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged. Fal. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. P. Hen. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a mad-cap. Fal. Why, that's well said. P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-hallown summer! [Erit FALSTAFF. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and I, will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth? Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail: and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves: which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. us. P. Hen. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he 1.ught with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jest P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all |