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A deed of slander with thy fatal hand,
Boling. They love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead,
But neither my good word, nor princely favour: With Cain go wander through the shade of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.-
Come, mourn with me for what I do lamer.t,
In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt. * Immediately.
SCENE 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
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
To chase these pagans, in those holy fields,
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet,
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many límits of the charge set down
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
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,
Balk'dt in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
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 of 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
K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and the moon, under whose countenance we
mak'st me sin
In envy that my lord Northumberland
Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
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 fadder: 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
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?
Ful. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have 1 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 reckon
K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answering, many a time and oft.
And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect
Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
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 crub of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
P. Hen. No; thou shalt.
Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
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 | morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as 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
P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Ful. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.t
P. Hen. 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, 1 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 taked 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 tomorrow, Jack?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffles 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 hath 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-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?
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 damned for keeping thy word with the devil.
P. Hen. 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 visors** for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester; I have bespoke supper tocat,-a Scotch term at this day + Croak of a frog. Treat me with ignominy. Honest. ** Masks.
Gib cat, should be lib for a gelded cat.
↑ Citation of holy texts. Made an appointment.
secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tar ry 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.
Ful. 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. I care not.
Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.
Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he 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 the time want countenance. Farewell: You shall find me in Eastcheap.
P. Hen. 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, Bar dolph, 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 from 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.
P. Hen. 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.
P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap, there I'll sup. Farewell.
* The value of a coin called real or royal. +Fine weather at All-hallown-tide, (i. c. All Saints, Nov. 1st,) is called a All-hallown summer. ↑ Occasion. Confutation.
Poins, Farewell, my lord.
P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while
The unyok'd humour of your idleness:
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
Enter King HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WOR-
K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and
And therefore lost that title of respect,
Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little
The scourge of greatness to be used on it;
North. My lord,
K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I see danger
And disobedience in thine eye: O, Sir, Your presence is too bold and peremptory, And majesty might never yet endure The moody frontiers of a servant brow. [need You have good leave to leave us; when we Your use and counsel, we shall send for You were about to speak. [Exit WORCESTER. North. Yea, my good lord. [To NORTH. Those prisoners in your highness' name de[manded, Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, Were, as he says, not with such strength deAs is deliver'd to your majesty: Either envy, therefore, or misprision Is guilty of this fault, and not my son. Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd, Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest home; * Expectations. Forehead. + Dull. ↑ Disposition. | Ready assent.
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,