Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; 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 proper fellow of my hands; and those two things I confess I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.

Enter BARDOLPH and Page.

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

Bird. God save your grace !

80

Prince. And yours, most noble Bardolph. Bard. To the Page. Come, you virtuous ass, you bishful 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. A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his fice from the window at last I spied his eyes, and methought he had made two holes in the ale wife's new petticoat, and peeped through. 90 Prince. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard, Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!

Paje. Away, you rascally Althæa'sdream,away! | Prince. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althæa dreamed she was delivered of a firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.

Prince. A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis, boy. Gives him money. 100 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 yon, the gallows shall have wrong.

Prince. 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.

Poins. Delivered with good respect. And how doth the martlemas, your master?

Bard. In bodily health, sir.

110

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

Prince. 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, 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's 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.' Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But to 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.

Prince. Peace !

130

Poins. I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity: he sure means brevity in breath, shortwinded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee,

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. 14 My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it.

Prince. That 's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?

Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! but I never said so.

Prince. 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.

153

Prince. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. Prince. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. Prince. Sup any women with him? Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.

161

SCENE III.-Warkworth. Before NORTHUM-
BERLAND'S Castle.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, Lady NORTH-
UMBERLAND, 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.

For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! For his, it stuck upon him as the sun

20

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,

30

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.

40

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, 50 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.

61

Doll. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?

Fal. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. Doll. I make them! gluttony and di eases make them; I make them not.

Fal. If the cook help to make the glutton", you help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, ny poor virtue, grant that.

6

Doll. Ay, marry; our chains and our jewels. Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and owches': for to serve bravely is to come halting off you know: to come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chambers bravely,

Doll. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

Quick. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet but you fall to some discord: you are both, in good troth, as rheumatic as

two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that must be you: you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel.

Doll. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him: you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.

Re-enter First Drawer.

71

First Draw. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with you.

Doll. Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the foul-mouthedest rogue in England.

Quick. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very best. Shut the door; there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while to have swaggering now: shut the door, I pray you.

Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess?

83

Pist. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.

Doll. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master.

131

Pist. I know you, Mistress Dorothy. Doll. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, pray you, sir? God's light! with two points on your shoulder? much!

Pist. God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff for this!

141

Fal. No more, Pistol: I would not have you go off here. Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.

Quick. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. Quick. Tilly-fally, Sir John, never tell me : your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the deputy, t' other day; and, as he said to me, 'twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, Neighbour Quickly,' says he; Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then; "Neighbour Quickly,' says he, 'receive those that are civil; for,' said he, 'you are in an ill name: ' now a' said so, I can tell whereupon; for,' says he, you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take heed what guests you receive: receive,' says he, 'no swaggering companions.' There comes none here: you would bless you to hear what he said. No, I'll no swaggerers.

101

Doll. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out for taking their names upon you before you have earned them. You a whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him, rogue! he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as odious as the word 'occupy,' which was an excellent good word before it was ill sorted: therefore captains had need look to't.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. 160 Fal. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.

Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph; I could tear her. I'll be revenged of her. Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pist. I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say Have we

I. Down, down, dogs! down, fates! not Hiren here?

Quick. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

172

Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack-horses,

And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,
And Troyan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

181

Quick. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. Bard. Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anon.

Pist. Die men like dogs! give crowns likepins! Have we not Hiren here?

Quick. O' my word, captain, there's none such

revenge and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat. 320 Prince. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

Quick. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

Prince. Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gadshill: you knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose to try my patience.

330

Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.

Prince. I shall drive you then to confess the wilfulabase; and then I know how to handle you. Ful. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse. Prince. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse!

399

Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which doing I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none: no, faith, boys, none.

Prince. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is the boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked?

Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer's privykitchen, where he doth nothing but roast maltworms. For the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too.

Prince. For the women?

359

Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls. For the other, I owe her money, and whether she be damned for that, I know not.

Quick. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.

371

Quick. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? Prince. You, gentlewoman.Doll. What says your grace? Fa'. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against. Knocking within. Quick. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.

So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak Falstaff, good night.
Exeunt the PRINCE, POINS, PETO,
and BARDOLPH.
Ful. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the
night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.
Knocking within.
More knocking at the door!

Re-enter BARDOLPH.
How now! what's the matter?
Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.

Fal. To the Page. Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my. good wenches, how men of merit are sought after the undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.

:

403

SCENE I.- Westminster. A Room in the Palace. Inter King HENRY in his night-gown, with a Page.

K. Hen. Go call the earls of Surrey and of Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'erread these letters,

And well consider of them. Make good speed.
Exit Page.

How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep! O gentle sleep!
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy
slumber,

10

Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god! why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruilian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them