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,

Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
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,

And never shall have length of life enough,

To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,

For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind,

As with the tide swell'd up unto 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.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

London. A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern, in Eastcheap.

Enter Two Drawers.

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

2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish of apple-John's before him, and told him, there were five more Sir John's; and, putting off his hat, said, "I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, withered 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. [Dispatch: - 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 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.

Enter Hostess and DOLL TEAR-SHEET.

[Exit.

Host. I faith, sweet heart, methinks now, you are in an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose; but, i' faith, you have drunk too much canaries, and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere

one can say, Dol.

What's this? How do you now?

Better than I was. Hem.

Host. Why, that 's well said; a good heart 's worth gold. Lo! here comes Sir John.

Enter FALSTAFF, singing.

Fal. "When Arthur first in court"

"And was a worthy king."

How now, mistress Doll?

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

Empty the jordan.

[Exit Drawer.

Fal. So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick. Dol. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?

Fal. You make fat rascals, mistress Doll.

Dol. I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not.

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

for to serve

Dol. Yea, joy; our chains, and our jewels. Fal. "Your brooches, pearls, and owches:" 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 :

Dol. [Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!] Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion: you two never meet, but you fall to some discord. You are both, in good troth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the good year! one must bear, and that must be you: you are the weaker vessel; as they say, the emptier

vessel.

Dol. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him: you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again, or no, there is nobody cares..

Re-enter Drawer.

Draw. Sir, ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with you. Dol. Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the foul mouth'dst rogue in England.

Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live amongst my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the very best. Shut the door; - there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now. -- Shut the door, I pray you.

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-valley, Sir John, never tell me: your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before master Tisick, the deputy, t' other day; and, as he said to me, it was no longer ago than Wednesday last, "Neighbour Quickly," says he; master Dumb, our minister, was by then; - "Neighbour Quickly," says he, "receive those that are civil; for," said he, "you are in an ill name:" - now, he said so, I can tell whereupon; "for," says he, "you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take 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, i' faith; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy grey-hound: he will not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistanse. - 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.

Dol. So you do, hostess.

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

Enter PISTOL, Bardolph, and Page.

Pist. God 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. I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy: I will charge you.

Dol. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master.

Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy.

Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal? you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, Sir?

God's light! with two points on your shoulder? much!

Pist. I will murder your ruff for this.

[Fal. 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.

Dol. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earned them. You a captain, you slave! for what? for tearing a poor whore 's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! Hang him, rogue! He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried cakes. A captain! these villains will make the word captain as odious [as the word occupy, which was an excellent good word before it was ill sorted:] therefore captains had need look to 't. Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient.

Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Doll.

Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, corporal Bardolph; I could tear

her. - I'll be revenged of her.

Page. Pray thee, go down.