P. Hen. 'Faith, it does me; though it discolours] the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me, to desire small beer?

Enter Bardolph and Page.

Bard. 'Save your grace!

P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph! Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, [To the page.] studied, as to remember so weak a composition. P. Hen. Belike then my appetite was not princely you bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore got; for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor blush you now? What a maidenly man at arms are creature, small beer. But, indeed, these humble you become! Is it such a matter, to get a potileconsiderations make me out of love with my great-pot's maidenhead?

ness. What a disgrace is it to me, to remember

Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit,

Page. He called me even now, my lord, through thy name? or to know thy face to-morrow? or to a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his take note how many pair of silk stockings thou face from the window: at last, I spied his eyes; hast; viz. these, and those that were the peach-and, methought, he had made two holes in the alecoloured ones? or to bear the inventory of thy wife's new petticoat, and peeped through. P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited? shirts; as, one for superfluity, and one other for use?-but that, the tennis-court keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee, away! when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy low-away! countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen,' shall inherit his kingdom; but the midwives say, the children are not in the fault: whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened.

Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is ?

P. Hen. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes; and let it be an excellent good thing. P. Hen. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.

Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.

P. Hen. Why, I tell thee,-it is not meet that I should be sad, now my father is sick albeit I could tell to thee (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend,) I could be sad, and sad indeed too.

Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream,

P. Hen. Instruct us, boy: What dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was delivered of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him

her dream.

P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation. -There it is, boy. [Gives him money. Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from cankers !-Well, there is sixpence to preserve Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among you, the gallows shall have wrong.

thee.

P. Hen. 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.

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

Bard. In bodily health, sir.

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

it dies not.

P. Hen. I do allow this went to be as familiar with me as my dog: and he holds his place; for, look you, how he writes.

Poins. Very hardly, upon such a subject. P. Hen. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in Poins. [Reads.] John Falstaff, knight,——Every the devil's book, as thou, and Falstaff, for obduracy and persistency: Let the end try the man. But man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to tell thee,-my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father name himself. Even like those that are kin to the is so sick and keeping such vile company as thou king; for they never prick their finger, but they art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation say, There is some of the king's blood spilt: How

of sorrow.

Poins. The reason?

P. Hen. What wouldst thou think of me, if should weep?

Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypo

crite.

P. Hen. It would be every man's thought: and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks; never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine: every man would think me a hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought, to think so?

Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so much engraffed to Falstaff.

P. Hen. And to thee.

Poins. By this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear it with my 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.

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.

P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But 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.
P. Hen. Peace!

Poins. I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity:-he sure means brevity in breath; shortwinded.-I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may'st, and so farewell.

P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he My lord, I will had him from me Christian; and look, if the fat him eat it. villain have not transformed him ape.

1 (1) Children wrapt up in his old shirts. An ale-house window.

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. steep this letter in sack, and make

P. Hen. That's to make him eat twenty of his

(3) Martinmas, St. Martin's day is Nov. 11. (4) Swollen excrescence.

words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. marry your sister?

Poins. May the wench have no worse fortune! but I never said so.

P. Hen. 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.

P. Hen. Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?'

Bard. At the old place, my lord; in Eastcheap.
P. Hen. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church.
P. Hen. Sup any women with him?

Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and mistress Doll Tear-sheet.

P. Hen. What pagan may that be? Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.

P. Hen. Even such kin, as the parish heifers are to the town bull.-Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.

P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy,-and Bardolph ;-no word to your master, that I am yet come to town: There's for your silence.

Bard. I have no tongue, sir.

Page. And for mine, sir,-I will govern it. P. Hen. Fare ye well; go-[Exeunt Bardolph and Page.]-this Doll Tear-sheet should be some road.

Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.

He had no legs, that practis'd 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,

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.
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,
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,

P. Hen. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not our-Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, selves be seen? 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;

Poins. Put on two leather jerkins, and aprons, and wait upon him at his table, as drawers.

P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descen-And never shall have length of life enough, sion! it was Jove's case. From a prince to a 'pren- To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, tice? a low transformation! that shall be mine: That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, for, in every thing, the purpose must weigh with For recordation to my noble husband. the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with SCENE III.-Warkworth. Before the castle. Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and Lady Perey.

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.

Lady P. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these
wars!

The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look, to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost; yours, and your son's.
For yours,-may heavenly glory brighten it!
For his,-it stuck upon him, as the sun

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

my mind,

As with the tide swell'd up into its height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back :-----
I will resolve for Scotland; there am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-London. A room in the Boar's
Head Tavern, in Eastcheap. Enter two Drawers.

1 Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-Johns? thou know'st, sir John cannot endure an apple-John.

2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true: The prince once set a dish of apple-Johns before him, and told him, there were five more sir Johns: and, putting off his hat, said, I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, wither'd knights. It angered him to the heart; but he hath forgot that.

1 Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down: And see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; mistress Tear-sheet would fain hear some music. Despatch:-The room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight..

2 Draw. Sirrah, here will be the prince, and master Poins anon: and they will put on two of our

(4) Sneak was a street minstrel: a noise of mu sicians anciently signified a concert.

jerkins, and aprons; and sir John must not know) of it: Bardolph hath brought word.

1 Draw. By the mass, here will be old utis: It will be an excellent stratagem.

2 Draw. I'll see, if I can find out Sneak. [Exit.

Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess ?Host. Pray you, pacify yourself, sir John; there comes no swaggerers' here.

Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. Host. Tilly-fally, sir John, never tell me ; your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was Enter Hostess and Doll Tear-sheet. before master Tisick, the deputy, the other day; Host. I'faith, sweet heart, methinks now you are and, as he said to me,-it was no longer ago than in an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge Wednesday last,-Neighbour Quickly, says he ;beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire: and master Dumb, our minister, was by then;-Neigh your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose: bour Quickly, says he, receive those that are civil; But, i'faith, you have drunk too much canaries; for, saith he, you are in an ill name ;-now he said and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it per- so, I can tell whereupon; for, says he, you are an fumes the blood ere one can say,-What's this? honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take How do you now?

Doll. Better than I was. Hem. Host. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold. Look, here comes sir John.

Enter Falstaff, singing.

Fal. When Arthur first in court.-Empty the jordan. And was a worthy king: [Exit Drawer.] How now, mistress Doll?

Host. Sick of a calm: yea, good sooth.

Fal. So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.

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 diseases make them; I make them not.

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.

Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, he; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound: he will not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance. -Call him up, drawer.

Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: But I do not love swaggering; by my troth, I am the worse, when one says-swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you.

Ful. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you an help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue, grant that.

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!

Doll. So you do, hostess.

Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere aspen leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.

Enter Pistol, Bardolph, and Page.

Pist. 'Save you, sir John!

Fal. Welcome, ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.

Pist. I will discharge upon her, sir John, with two bullets.

Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her.

Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets: Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no two never meet, but you fall to some discord: you man's pleasure, I.

are both, in good troth, as rheumatic as two dry Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy; I will toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confir- charge you.

mities. What the good-year! one must bear, and Doll. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy compathat must be you: [To Doll.] you are the weaker nion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel. lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away!

Doll. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge I am meat for your master. full hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy.

of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a Doll. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy hulk better stuffed in the hold.-Come, I'll be bung, away! by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle and whether I shall ever see thee again, or no, with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basketthere is nobody cares. hilt stale juggler, you!-Since when, I pray you, sir ?-What, with two points' on your shoulder? much!8

Re-enter Drawer.

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-mouth'dst rogue in England.

Pist. I will murder your ruff for this.

Ful. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. Host. No, good captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, Doll. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, by my faith; I must live amongst my neighbours; art thou not ashamed to be called-captain? If I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame captains were of my mind, they would truncheon with the very best :-Shut the door;-there comes you out, for taking their names upon you before no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, you have earned them. You a captain, you slave! to have swaggering now:-Shut the door, I pray for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a you. bawdy-house?-He a captain! Hang him, rogue!

(1) Merry doings. (2) Small pieces of ordnance. (3) Mrs. Quickly's blunder for goujere, i. e. pox. Ensign. (5) A blustering, fighting fellow.

(6) Gamester.

(7) Laces, marks of his commission.
(8) An expression of disdain.

He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and cakes. A captain! these villains will make the frights. So; murder, I warrant now.--Alas, word captain as odious as the word occupy; which alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your was an excellent good word before it was ill-sort-naked weapons. [Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph. ed: therefore, captains had need look to it. Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Doll.

Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you. Host. Are you not hurt i'the groin? methought,

Pist. Not I: tell thee what, corporal Bar- he made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon,' his where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For man, be not lisping to his master's old tables; his the boy,-there is a good angel about him; but note-book, his counsel-keeper. the devil outbids him too.

Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Doll. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

Fal. I am old, I am old.

Doll. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all.

P. Hen. For the women,

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

Host. No, I warrant you.

Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle2 of? I shall Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art receive money on Thursday: thou shalt have a cap quit for that: Marry, there is another indictment to-morrow. A merry song, come: it grows late, upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me, when I am gone. house, contrary to the law; for the which, I think, Doll. By my troth, thou'lt set me a weeping, an thou wilt howl. thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.—— -Well, hearken the end.

Fal. Some sack, Francis.

P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's-And art not thou Poins his brother?

P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead?

Fal. A better than thou; I am a gentleman, thou art a drawer.

P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Host. All victuallers do so: What's a joint of
mutton or two in a whole Lent?
P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,-
Doll. What says your grace?

Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.

Host. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the door there, Francis.

Enter Peto.

P. Hen. Peto, how now? what news? Peto. The king, your father, is at Westminster; Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by And there are twenty weak and wearied posts, my troth, welcome to London.-Now the Lord Come from the north: and, as I came along, bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, I met, and overtook, a dozen captains, come from Wales? And asking every one for sir John Falstaff. P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,

Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome. [Leaning his hand upon Doll.

Doll. How! you fat fool, I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you; how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman?

Host. 'Blessing o'your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

I

P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gads-hill: you knew, was at your back; and spoke it on purpose to try my patience.

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

So idly to profane the precious time;
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt,
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword, and cloak:-Falstaff, good
night.

[Exe. P. Henry, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. [Knocking heard.] 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. Pay the musicians, sirrah. To the Page.]Farewell, hostess;-Farewell, Doll.-You see, my P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honour; no abuse. is called on. Farewell, good wenches: If I be not P. Hen. Not! to dispraise me; and call me-sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal.

Poins. No abuse!

Doll. I cannot speak:-If my heart be not ready to burst:-Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Fal. Farewell, farewell. [Exe. Fal. and Bard. Fal. No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but wicked might not fall in love with him:-in which an honester, and truer-hearted man,—Well, fare doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and thee well.

a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, boys, none.

Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tear-sheet,——
Host. What's the matter?

Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come

Host. O run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. [Ere.

P. Hen. See, now, whether pure fear, and en- to my master. tire cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked? Is thinc 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 privy kitchen,

(1) An astronomical term. (2) A short cloak.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A room in the palace. Enter King
Henry, in his night-gown, with a Page.
K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey, and of
Warwick;