The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Adapted for Family Reading

Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor? look upon his face; What call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks; I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's, worth forty mark.

Host. O! I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper. Fal. How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup; and, if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS, marching. FALSTAFF meets the Prince, playing on his truncheon, like a fife.

Fal. How now, lad? is the wind in that door,
ust we all march?

Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion?
Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me.

man, I dare: but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. P. Hen. And why not as the lion?

Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion: Dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father?

P. Hen. O, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou impudent, rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavernreckonings, and one poor pennyworth of sugarcandy to make thee long-winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou not ashamed?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.-You con

P. Hen. What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly?fess, then, you picked my pocket? How does thy husband? I love him well; he is an honest man.

Host. Good my lord, hear me.

P. Hen. It appears so by the story.

Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest I am pacified. behind-Still?-Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,-How is that answered?

Fal. Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me.
P. Hen. What sayest thou, Jack?
Fal. The other night I fell asleep here
the arras, and had my pocket picked.

P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack?
Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four
Donds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of
my grandfather's.

P. Hen. A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say so: And, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and said he would cudgel you. P. Hen. What! he did not?

Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womannood in me else.

Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go.

Host. Say, what thing? what thing? I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

Host. Say, what beast, thou knave thou?
Fal. What beast? why, an otter.

P. Hen. An otter, Sir John! why an otter?
Fal. Why? she's neither fish nor flesh.
Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so.
P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he
slanders thee most grossly.

Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said this
other day, you ought him a thousand pound.
P. Hen. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand
pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would cudgel you.

Fal. Did I, Bardolph?

Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
Fal. Yea; if he said my ring was copper.
P. Hen. I say 'tis copper: Darest thou be as
good as thy word now?

Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but

* A term of contempt frequently used by Shakespeare.

P. Hen, O, my sweet beef, I must still be good
angel to thee:-The money is paid back again.
Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a
double labour.
[may do any thing.

P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and
Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou
doest, and do it with unwashed hands too.
Bard. Do, my lord.

[of foot.

P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge Fal. I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the age of two-and-twenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, heaven be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them. P. Hen. BardolphBard. My lord.

[Lancaster,

P. Hen. Go bear this letter to Lord John of My brother John; this to my lord of Westmoreland.

Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou and I
Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.-
Jack,

[ceive

Meet me to-morrow i' the Temple-hall,
At two o'clock i' the afternoon :
There shalt thou know thy charge; and there re-
Money, and order for their furniture.
The land is burning; Percy stands on high;
And either they or we must lower lie..

[Exeunt Prince, POINS, and Bard. Fal. Rare words! brave world!-Hostess, my breakfast; come :

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! [Exit.

Act Fourth.

SCENE I.-The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.
Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS.
Hot. WELL said, my noble Scot: if speak-
ing truth,

A female character, who attends morris dancers; generally a man dressed like a woman.

In this fine age, were not thought flattery,
Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a soldier of this season's stamp
Should go so general current through the world.
By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord.
Doug. Thou art the king of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard him.
Hot.

Do so, and 'tis well :-
Enter a Messenger, with Letters.
What letters hast thou there?-I can but
thank you.

Mess. These letters come from your father, Hot. Letters from him? why comes he not himself? [ous sick. Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievHot. O! how has he the leisure to be sick In such a justling time? Who leads his power? Under whose government come they along? Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.

[bed?

Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his physicians.

Wor. I would the state of time had first been whole,

Ere he by sickness had been visited;
His health was never better worth than now.
Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness
doth infect

The very life-blood of our enterprise :
"Tis catching hither, even to our camp.-
He writes me here,-that inward sickness--
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet,
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul remov'd, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,-
That with our small conjunction, we should on,
To see how fortune is dispos'd to us:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing † now;
Because the king is certainly possess'd
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us. Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:

And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it :-Were it
To set the exact wealth of all our states [good,
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good: for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope;
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.

Doug.

'Faith, and so we should;

Where now remains a sweet reversion;
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
Is to come in:

A comfort of retirement lives in this.
Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto.

That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence :
And think how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction,
And breed a kind of question in our cause:
For, well you know, we of the offering side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement;
And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us :
This absence of your father's draws a curtain,
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.

Hot.
You strain too far.
I, rather, of his absence make this use;-
It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the earl were here: for men must think,
If we, without his help, can make a head
To push against the kingdom; with his help,
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.-
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

Doug. As heart can think: there is not such a Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear. [word Enter Sir RICHARD VERNON.

Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.

Ver. Pray heaven, my news be worth a welcome, lord.

The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, [John. Is marching hitherwards; with him, Prince Hot. No harm: What more? Ver.

And further, I have learn'd,The king himself in person is set forth, Or hitherwards intended speedily, With strong and mighty preparation.

Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son?

The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales, And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside, And bid it pass?

Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms, All plum'd like estridges ¶ that wing the wind; Bated** like eagles having lately bath'd; Glittering in golden coats, like images; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses ++ on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Hot. No more, no more; worse than the sun

in March,

This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come;
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit,
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire,
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

And yet not ours :-Come, let me take my horse,
Who is to bear me, like a thunderbolt,

Wor. But yet, I would your father had Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:

been here.

The quality and hair? of our attempt
Brooks no division: It will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,

This expression is applied by way of preminence to the head of the Douglas family. + Languishing + Limit, boundary.

Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a

Per.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and WESTMORELAND. P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt?

There is more news: I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, He cannot draw his power this fourteen days. Doug. That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

Hot. What may the king's whole battle reach unto?

Ver. To thirty thousand.
Hot.
Forty let it be;
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day.
Come, let us make a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.

Doug. Talk not of dying; I am out of fear
Of death, or death's hand, for this one half-year.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II-A Public Road near Coventry.
Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.

Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack; our soldiers shall march through; we'll to Sutton-Colfield tonight.

Bard. Will you give me money, captain?
Fal. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This bottle makes an angel.

Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all: I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end.

Bard. I will, captain: farewell.

[Exit. Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. I have misused the king's press vilely. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and dd pounds. I press me none but good housenolders, yeomen's sons: inquire me out conracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the bans; such a commodity of warm slaves, is had as lief hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck fowl, or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me none but such toasts and butter, with nearts no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, and such as, indeed, were never soldiers; but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers tradefallen; the cankers of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more dishonourably ragged than an old faced ancient :+ and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scare-crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat:-Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company: and the half shirt is two napkins, tacked together, and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daintry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

* A musket. + Standard. Daventry, pronounced Daintry.

|| Conduct, experience.

+ Fetters.

Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire ?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

West. 'Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already: The king, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all night.

Fal. Tut, never fear me; I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.

P. Hen. I think, to steal cream indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack; Whose fellows are these that come after?

Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.

P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.

West. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.

Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that: and for their bareness,— I am sure they never learned that of me.

P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste; Percy is already in the field.

Fal. What, is the king encamped? [too long. West. He is, Sir John; I fear we shall stay Fal. Well,

[a feast, To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt. SCENE III.- The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and
VERNON.

Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.
Wor.
It may not be.
Doug. You give him then advantage.
Ver.
Not a whit.
[ply?
Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for sup-
Ver. So do we.

Hot.
His is certain, ours is doubtful.
Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not to-night.
Ver. Do not, my lord.
Doug.

You do not counsel well:
You speak it out of fear, and cold heart.
Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,
(And I dare well maintain it with my life,)
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear,
As you, my lord, or any Scot that lives :-
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle,
Which of us fears.
Doug.
Ver.

Yea, or to-night.

Hot. To-night, say I. Ver.

Content.

Come, come, it may not be.
I wonder much, being men of such great leading,||
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition: Certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.

Hot. So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated and brought low;
The better part of ours is full of rest.

Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours. For heaven's sake, cousin, stay till all come in. [The Trumpet sounds a parley.

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