Enter Keeper, with a dish. Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. [Exit. Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. 99 Keep. My lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, who lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help, help, help! And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, [Beats the keeper. Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Enter EXTON and Servants, armed. K. Rich. How now! what means death in this rude assault? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instru ment. Enter PERCY, and the BISHOp of Carlisle. With clog of conscience and sour melancholy 20 [Snatching an axe from a Servant and kill-Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride. ing him. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [He kills another. Then Exton strikes him down. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce 110 hand Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land. Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to [Dies. die. Exton. As full of valour as of royal blood: Both have I spill'd; O would the deed were good! For now the devil, that told me I did well, Flourish. SCENE VI. Windsor castle. [Exeunt. Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, with Is that the rebels have consumed with fire But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. Welcome, my lord: what is the news? room, More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies A deed of slander with thy fatal hand Boling. They love not poison that do poison 40 Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead, North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all March sadly after; grace my mournings here; happiness. In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE I. London. The palace. Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL OF WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others. King. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenced in strands afar remote. No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood: No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, 10 All of one nature, of one substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, March all one way and be no more opposed Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross 20 We are impressed and engaged to fight, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy: Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb To chase these pagans in those holy fields Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. But this our purpose now is twelve month old, And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear 30 Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, What yesternight our council did decree' POINS. GADSHILL. PETO. BARDOLPH. LADY PERCY, wife to Hotspur, and sister to LADY MORTIMER, daughter to Glendower, MISTRESS QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, two Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants. SCENE: England. In forwarding this dear expedience. West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, And many limits of the charge set down A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; But yesternight: when all athwart there came Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, A thousand of his people butchered; Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, Such beastly shameless transformation, By those Welshwomen done as may not be Without much shame retold or spoken of. 40 King. It seems then that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy Land. For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; 50 And shape of likelihood, the news was told; King. Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son And is not this an honourable spoil? A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. 70 Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. Prince. 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 King. Yea, there thou makest me sad and of good government, being governed, as the sea Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, Malevolent to you in all aspects; King. But I have sent for him to answer this; Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we ΙΟΙ [Exeunt. SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? Prince. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a 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 the signs of leapinghouses and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst 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 the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, 'that wandering knight so fair. And, I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God save thy grace,-majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none, Prince. What, none? 20 is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. Prince. Thou sayest 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 ladder and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? 49 Fal. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? Prince. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?. Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft. Prince. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. 60 Prince. 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 prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolu tion thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when i thou art king, hang a thief. 70 Prince. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. Prince. 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 the court, I can tell you. 80 Prince. 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 bear, Prince. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. Fal Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. Prince. 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, I prithee, 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 talked wisely, and in the street too. Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. 100 the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. Prince. Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. 160 Fal. Why, that's well said. Prince. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. Prince. I care not. Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go. 169 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 Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of pernothing; and now am I, if a man should speak suasion and him the ears of profiting, that what truly, little better than one of the wicked. I thou speakest may move and what he hears may must give over this life, and I will give it over: be believed, that the true prince may, for recrea-. by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain: I'll tion sake, prove a false thief; for the poor abuses be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. of the time want countenance. Farewell: you Prince. Where shall we take a purse to-mor-shall find me in Eastcheap. row, Jack? III Prince. Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! (Exit Falstaff. Fal. 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain and baffle me. Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking, Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Enter POINS. Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have 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. Prince. 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? 129 Prince. 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. Prince. 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 vizards for you all; you have horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hanged. Fal. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? 150 Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? Prince. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid; yourself and I will not be there; and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders. Prince. How shall we part with 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. Prince. Yea, 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 vizards we will change after we leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. Prince. Yea, 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. Prince. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit. Prince. I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyoked humour of your idleness: Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, 220 By breaking through the foul and ugly mists And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held But when they seldom come, they wish'd for Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others. King. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to stir at these indignities, And therefore lost that title of respect ΙΟ The scourge of greatness to be used on it; And that same greatness too which our own hands Have holp to make so portly. North. My lord, And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, 39 He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, Out of my grief and my impatience, 50 He should, or he should not; for he made me 60 And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said King. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do What then he said, so he unsay it now. see Danger and disobedience in thine eye: 21 O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, 30 Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd King Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, But with proviso and exception, 70 80 That we at our own charge shall ransom straight |