Had my fweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To day might I, (hanging on Hot-fpur's neck)
Have talk'd of Monmouth's Grave.

North. Befhrew your heart,

Fair daughter, you do draw my fpirits from me,
With new-lamenting ancient over-fights.

But I must go and meet with danger there;
Or it will feek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.

L. North. Fly to Scotland,

"Till that the Nobles and the armed Commons Have of their puiffance made a little tafte.

L. Percy. If they get ground and 'vantage of the King,
Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
To make strength ftronger. But, for all our loves,
First let them try themfelves. So did your fon:
He was fo fuffer'd; fo 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 heav'n,
For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with
As with the tide fwell'd up unto his height,
That makes a ftill-ftand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
But many thoufand reafons hold me back :
I will refolve for Scotland; there am I,
'Till time and 'vantage crave my company.

my mind

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Boar's-head Tavern in

Eaftcheap.

Enter two Drawers.

1 Draw. W Apple-Johns ? thou know't, Sir John

HAT the devil haft thou brought there?

cannot endure an Apple-John.

2 Draw. Mafs! thou fayeft true; the Prince once fet a difh of Apple-Johns before him, and told him there were five more Sir Johns; and, putting off his hat,

faid, I will now take my leave of these fix dry, round, old, wither'd knights. It anger'd him to the heart; but he hath forgot That.

I Draw. Why then, cover, and fet them down ; and fee if thou can't find out Sneak's Noife; Mrs. Tear Sheet would fain hear fome mufick. Difpatch! the room where they fupt is too hot, they'll come in ftraight.

2 Draw. Sirrah, here will be the Prince, and Master Poins anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons, and Sir John must not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.

1 Draw. Then here will be old Utis: it will be an excellent ftratagem.

2 Draw. I'll fee, if I can find out Sneak. [Exeunt.

Enter Hoftefs and Dol.

Hoft. I'faith, fweet heart, methinks, now you are in an excellent good temperality; your pulfidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would defire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rofe: but, i'faith, you have drank too much canarys, and that's a marvellous fearching wine; and it perfumes the blood, ere we can fay what's this. How do you now?

Dol. Better than I was: hem.

Hoft. Why, that was well faid: a good heart's worth gold. Look, here comes Sir John.

Enter Falftaff.

Fal. When Arthur firft in Court- empty the jourden and was a worthy King: how now, Mrs. Dol.

Hoft. Sick of a calm: yea, good footh.

Fal. So is all her fect; if they be once in a calm, they are fick.

Dol. You muddy rafcal, is that all the comfort you give me?

Fal. You make fat rafcals, Mrs. Dol.

Dol. I make them! gluttony and diseases make them, I make them not.

Fal. If the cook make the gluttony, you help to make

the

the difeafes, Dol; we catch of you, Dol, we catch of you; grant That, my poor Vertue, grant That. Dol. 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 furgery bravely; to venture upon the charg'd chambers bravely

Dol. Hang your felf, you muddy Conger, hang your felf!

Hoft. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet, but you fall to fome difcord; you are both, in good troth, as rheumatick as two dry toafts, you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the good-jer? one muft bear, and that must be you: you are the weaker veffel, as they fay, the emptier veffel.

To Dol.

Dol. Can a weak empty veffel bear fuch a huge full hogfhead? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux ftuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuft in the Hold. Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars, and whether I shall ever fee thee again or no, there is no body cares.

Enter Drawer.

Draw. Sir, ancient Pistol is below and would speak with you.

Dol. Hang him, fwaggering rafcal, let him not come hither; it is the foul-mouth'dit rogue in England.

Hoft. If he fwagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith: I must live amongst my neighbours, I'll no fwaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very beft fhut the door, there comes no fwaggerers here: I have not liv'd all this while to have fwaggering now: fhut the door, I pray you.

Fal. Doft thou hear, Hoftefs?

Hoft. Pray you, pacify your felf, Sir John; there comes no fwaggerers here.

Fal. Do'st thou hear

it is mine Ancient.

Hoft. Tilly-fally, Sir John, never tell me ; your An

to me

cient fwaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before mafter Tifick the deputy the other day; and, as he faid it was no longer ago than Wednesday last · neighbour Quickly, fays he; mafter Domb our minifter was by then; neighbour Quickly, fays he, receive thofe that are civil; for faith he, you are in an ill name: (now he said fo, I can tell whereupon ;) for, fays he, you are an honeft woman, and well thought on; therefore take heed, what guests you receive: receive, fays he, no fwaggering companions. There come none here. You would bless you to hear what he said. No, I'll no fwaggerers.

C

Fal. He's no fwaggerer, Hoftefs; a tame cheater, i'faith; you may ftroak him as gently as a puppey-greyhound; he will not fwagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any fhew of refiftance. Call him up, drawer.

Hoft. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honeft man my house, nor no cheater; but I do not love fwaggering, by my troth; I am the worse, when one fays, fwagger: feel, masters, how I fhake, look you, I warrant you.

Dol. So you do, hostess.

Hoft. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, as if it were an afpen leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.

Enter Pistol, Bardolph and Page.

Pift. Save you, Sir John.

Fal. Welcome, ancient Piflol. Here, Piftol, I charge you with a cup of fack: do you difcharge upon mine hoftess.

Pift. I will difcharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.

Fal. She is Piftol-proof, Sir, you fhall hardly offend

her.

Hoft. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets: I will drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

Pift. Then to you, Mrs. Dorothy, I will charge you. Dol. Charge me! I fcorn you, fcurvy companion! VOL. IV.

K

what?

what? your poor, base, rafcally, cheating, lack-linnen mate; away, you mouldy rogue, away, I'm meat for your mafter.

Pift. I know you, Mistress Dorothy.

Dol. Away, you cut-purfe rafcal, you filthy bung, away: by this wine, I'll thruft my knife in your mouldy chaps, if you play the fawcy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rafcal, you basket-hilt ftale jugler, you. Since when, I pray you, Sir? what, with two points on your fhoulder much.

Pift. I will murther your ruff for this.

Fal. No more, Piftol; I wou'd not have you go off here difcharge your felf of our company, Piftol.

Hoft. No, good captain Pistol: not here, fweet captain. Dol. Captain! thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not asham'd to be call'd captain? if Captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out of taking their names upon you, before you have earn'd them. You a captain! you flave! for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-houfe? he a captain! hang him, rogue, he lives upon mouldy ftew'd prunes and dry'd cakes. A captain! these villains will make the word captain as odious as the word occupy; which was an excellent good word, before it was ill forted: therefore captains had need look to it.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good Ancient.
Fal. Hark thee hither, miftrefs Dol.

Pift. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her I'll be reveng'd on her.

Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pift. I'll fee her damn'd firft: to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, where Erebus and tortures vile alfo. Hold hook and line, fay I: down! down, dogs; down, fates: have we not Hiren here?

Hoft. Good captain Peefel, be quiet, it is very late : I befeech you now, aggravate your choler.

Pift. These be good humours, indeed. Shall packhorfes

And hollow-pamper'd jades of Afia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,

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