away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my 99 Keep. My lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, who lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help, help, help! And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, [Beats the keeper. Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; Exton. As full of valour as of royal blood: Both have I spill'd; O would the deed were good! For now the devil, that told me I did well, SCENE VI. Windsor castle. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, with other Lords, and Attendants. Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear Is that the rebels have consumed with fire But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies A deed of slander with thy fatal hand Boling. They love not poison that do poison 40 Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead, Welcome, my lord: what is the news? happiness. In weeping after this untimely bier. 50 [Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE I. London. The palace. POINS. LADY PERCY, wife to Hotspur, and sister to LADY MORTIMER, daughter to Glendower, MISTRESS QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, SCENE: England. In forwarding this dear expedience. West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCAS-A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; King. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Shall now, 40 Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, | By those Welshwomen done as may not be King. It seems then that the tidings of this Brake off our business for the Holy Land. For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; 50 And shape of likelihood, the news was told; King. Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, SCENE 1.] FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV. On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. 70 Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art King. Yea, there thou makest me sad and of good government, being governed, as the sea makest me sin In envy that my Lord Northumberland 80 Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved coz, 90 Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, Malevolent to you in all aspects; King. But I have sent for him to answer this; Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we ΙΟΙ [Exeunt. SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? Prince. 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 wouldst 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 leapinghouses and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, see no reason why thou shouldst 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 the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wanAnd, I prithee, sweet dering knight so fair. wag, when thou art king, as, God save thy grace,-majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none, Prince. What, none? 20 is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, Prince. Thou sayest well, and it holds well Fal. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. wench? And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? 49 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? Prince. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning Prince. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy many a time and oft. part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. 60 Prince. 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 prithee, 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 antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. Prince. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. 70 Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am Prince. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. Prince. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee, 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. Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. 100 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. Prince. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? III Fal. 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain and baffle me. Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking; Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Enter POINS. 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. Prince. Good morrow, Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? 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? 129 Prince. 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 damned for keeping thy word with the devil. Prince. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards 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 ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? 150 Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? Prince. 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 Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go. 169 Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. Prince. Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! Exit 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 waylaid; yourself and I will not be there; and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders. Prince. 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. Prince. Yea, 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 vizards we will change after we leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. Prince. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. 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 fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest. Prince. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. The unyoked humour of your idleness: 220 The scourge of greatness to be used on it; Have holp to make so portly. North. My lord, 39 And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, Out of my grief and my impatience, 50 He should, or he should not; for he made me mad 60 To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said King. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do What then he said, so he unsay it now. see Danger and disobedience in thine eye: 21 King Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, But with proviso and exception, 70 80 That we at our own charge shall ransom straight O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, 30 Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Hot. Revolted Mortimer! 99 |