Enter FRANCIS. To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: Fran. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis? Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I shall be Poins. [Within] Francis! Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you stay a little, my lord. P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: SCENE IV.-Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS. P. Hen. Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lead me thy hand to laugh a little. Poins. Where hast been, Hal? P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the very base string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their christian names, as- -Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that, though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy: and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff; but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in East cheap. They call drinking deep dying scarlet: and when you breathe in your watering,b ey cry-hem! and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour that thou wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned-to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker; one that never spake other English in his life, than-"Eight shillings and sixpence," and "You are welcome;" with this shrill addition,-" Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon," or 10. But, Ned, to drive away time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling Francis, that his tale me may be nothing but-anon. Step aside, and I'll show thee a precedent. Poins. Francis! P. Hen. Thou art perfect. Manmets-puppets. [Exit POINS. Breathe in your watering. To take breath when you are drinking. To water was a common word for to drink, as we still say to water a horse. Some mechanics have still their catering-time in the afternoon. * Penporth of sugar- to sweeten the wine. Fran. Anon, anon. P. Hen. Anon, Francis? No, Francis: but tomorrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis, Fran. My lord? b P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddisgarter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch, Fran. O lord, sir, who do you mean? P. Hen. Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink: for, look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. Fran. What, sir? Poins. [Within] Francis! P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear them call? [Here they both call him; the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go. Enter Vintner. Vint. What! stand'st thou still and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRANCIS.] My lord, old sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in? P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! Re-enter POINS. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door. Shall we be merry? Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But, hark ye; What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what 's the issue? P. Hen. I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. Re-enter FRANCIS with wine.] What's o'clock, Francis? Fran. Anon, anon, sir. a Nott-pated-with the hair cut close. b Puke stocking. Puke, puce, is a sober brown colour. Pupil age-the young time of this present midnight, cou trasted with the old days of goodman Adam. P. Hen. Speak, sirs; how was it? P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer | through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum. words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His I never dealt better since I was a man: all would not industry is-up-stairs, and down-stairs; his eloquence, do. A plague of all cowards!-Let them speak: if they the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's speak more or less than truth they are villains, and the mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some sons of darkness. six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife," Fie upon this quiet life! I want work." "O my sweet Harry," says she, "how many hast thou killed to-day ?" "Give my roan horse a drench," says he; and answers, "Some fourteen "--an hour after;" a trifle, a trifle." I prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer his wife. "Rivo," says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO. Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!—Give me a cup of sack, boy.Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! -Give me a cup of sack, rogue.-Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter (pitiful-hearted Titan) that melted at the sweet tale of the sun? If thou didst, then behold that compound. Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it: a villainous coward.-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or anything: A plague of all cowards, I say still. P. Hen. How now, woolsack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath," and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales! P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter? Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee. Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack :-I am a rogue if I drunk to-day. P. Hen. O villain! thy lins are scarce wiped since thou drunk'st last. Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. [He drinks. Peto. No, no, they were not bound. Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us, Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them I am a bunch of radish if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. Poins. Pray Heaven you have not murthered some of them. Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid: two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward;-here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st but two, even now. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. Fal. Their points being broken,— Fal. Began to give me ground: But I followed me close, came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of the eleven I paid. P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbe gotten knaves in Kendal green came at my back, and let drive at me;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-pated fool: thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-ketch,-b Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the P. Hen. What's the matter? ta'en a thousand pound this morning. P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? P. Hen. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is a hundred thy hand? come, tell us your reason; What sayest thou upon poor four us. P. Hen. What, a hundred, man? Fal. I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four through the hose; my buckler cut through and Dagger of lath. The Vice in the old moralities was thus armed. to this? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not a Kendal green was the livery of Robin Hood and his merry archers. Ketch is a tub-a cask; a tallow-cask is no unant com i parison for Falstafi tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries II would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back breaker, this huge hill of flesh;— P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you hound them, and were masters of their wealth.- Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.-Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house:-and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and rared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou new find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou Fel. By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that tale ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the e prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself, and thee, during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to the doors, watch to-night, pray to-morrow.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? P. Hen. Content;-and the argument shall be, thy running away. Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me. Enter Hostess. Host. My lord the prince, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what say'st them to me? Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the Court at door, would speak with you: he says he comes from your father. P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a yal man, and send him back again to my mother. Fal. What manner of man is he? Host. An old man. ments with it, and swear it was the blood of true men. did that I did not this seven years before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices. P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou rann'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it? Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations? P. Hen. I do. Bard. What think you they portend? How Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long is t ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: here was sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the North, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook,-What, a plague, call you him? Poins. O, Glendower. Fal. Owen, Owen; the same;-and his son-in-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and the sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs a horseback up a hil perpendicular. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it. P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. : Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him he will not run. P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou, then, to praise him so for running! Fal. A horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot. P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more : Worcester is stolen away by night; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. P. Hen. Then 't is like, if there come a hot June, and this civil bufieting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we shall have good trading that way.-But, tell me, Hal, Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? art not thou horribly afeard, thon being heir apparent? -Shall I give him his answer? P. Hen. Prithee, do, Jack. Fal. Faith, and I'll send him packing. [Exit. P. Hen. Now, sirs; by 'r lady, you fought fair; did you, Peto;-so did you, Bardolph: you are ons too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true prince; no,-fie! Bard. Faith, I ran when I saw others run. P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, how came staff's sword so hacked? Could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it? P. Hen. Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou do love me, Fal-practise an answer. Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, be would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like. Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass, to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our gar P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life. Fal. Shall I content:-This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy Taken with be manner-taken with a stolen thing in hand. golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful bald crown! Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses' vein. P. Hen. Well, here is my leg. Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, nobility. Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. Host. O the father, how he holds his countenance! Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen, For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see. that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein nea and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? whereit cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villainy wherein villainous, but in all things? wherein worthy, hut in nothing? Fal. I would your grace would take me with you. Whom means your grace? P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. Fal. My lord, the man I know. P. Hen. I know thou dost. Fal. But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, were to say more than I know. That he is old, (the more the pity,) his white hairs do witness it: but that he is (saving your reverence) a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, heaven Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.—help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy then many an old host that I know is damned: if to be time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be the camomile, the more it is trodden the faster it grows, loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Baryet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears. dolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word, Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company; banish that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here not him thy Harry's company; banish plump Jack, lieth the point-Why, being son to me, art thou so and banish all the world. pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also:-And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. P. Hen. What manner of man, an it like your majesty? P. Hen. I do, I will. [A knocking heard. [Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH. Re-enter BARDOLPH, running. Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most, most monstrous watch, is at the door. Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. Re-enter Hostess, hastily. Host. O, my lord, my lord!- Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door : seeming so. P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. A good portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; they are come to search the house; Shall I let them in? of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r-gold a counterfeit; thou art essentially mad, without lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given, he deceives me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month? P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so Fal. And here I stand :-judge, my masters. Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap. P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. Fal. Sblood, my lord, they are false-nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i' faith. P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloakbag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudling in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, a Micher-truant. Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff. so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras;-the rest walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience. Fal. Both which I have had but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me. [Exeunt all but the PRINCE and POINS. P. Hen. Call in the sheriff That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd these men He shall be answerable; and, so, farewell. P. Hen. I think it is good morrow; Is it not? Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse. P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: Search his pockets. [POINs searches.] What hast thou found? Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord. P. Hen. Let's see what be they: read them. Poins. Item, A capon, 2s. 2d. Item, Sauce, 4d. Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. Item, Bread, a halfpenny. P. Hen. O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!-What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at more advantage : there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning: we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins. Poins. Good morrow, good my lord. [Exeunt. ACT III SCENE L-Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's | These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; If Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born. Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my mind, you suppose as fearing you it shook. Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, Glend. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave And all the courses of my life do show I am not in the roll of common men. Where is the living,-clipp'd in with the sea That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, — And bring him out, that is but woman's son, Hot. I think there's no man speaks better Welsh: I'll to dinner. Mort. Peace, cousin Percy: you will make him mad. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. But will they come, when you do call for them? the devil. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil. If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.— Mort. Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye, Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too? How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? Glend. Come, here's the map; Shall we divide ou right, According to our three-fold order ta'en? Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, a Twelve-score. The common phraseology for twelve score yards. |