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, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord: banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins; but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and, therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.

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 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.

Host. O Jesu! my lord, my lord!

P. Hen. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick. What's the matter?

Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit thou art essentially mad, without seeming so.

P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct.

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 PETO.

P. Hen.

Call in the sheriff.

Enter Sheriff and Carrier.

Now, master sheriff, what's your will with me?

Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.

P. Hen. What men?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord; A gross fat man.

Car.

P. Hen.

As fat as butter.

The man, I do assure you, is not here,
For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withal:
And so, let me entreat you, leave the house.

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.

Sher. Good night, my noble lord.

P. Hen. I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.

[Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, call him forth.

Peto. Falstaff!

fast asleep behind the arras,

and snorting

like a horse.

Search his

P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath. pockets. [PETO searches.] What hast thou found? Peto. Nothing but papers, my lord.

P. Hen. Let's see what they be read them.
Peto. Item, A capon,

Item, Sauce,

Item, Sack, two gallons,

Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper,
Item, Bread,

2s. 2d.

4d. 5s. 8d. 2s. 6d.

ob.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack! · What there is else, keep close: There let him sleep till day. I'll

we 'll read it at more advantage. 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, Peto.

Peto. Good morrow, good my lord.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's House.

[Exeunt.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER. Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure,

And our induction full of prosperous hope.

Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, will you sit down? And, uncle Worcester.

forgot the map.

Gled

No, here it is.

- A plague upon it! I have

Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur;

For by that name as oft as Lancaster

Doth speak of you,

His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh

He wisheth you in heaven.

Hot. And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity,

The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

Of burning cressets; and at my birth,

The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak'd like a coward.

Hot. Why, so it would have done at the same season, if your mother's cat had but kitten'd, though yourself had never been born.

Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born.

Hot. And I say the earth was not of my mind,

If 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

Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd

By the imprisoning of unruly wind

Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down
Steeples, and moss-grown towers. At your birth,
Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
In passion shook.

Glend.

Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave that at my birth,

To tell you once again,

The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes;
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark'd me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show,

I am not in the roll of common men.

Where is he living, - clipp'd in with the sea

That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, -
Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?

And bring him out, that is but woman's son,

Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,

And hold me pace in deep experiments.

Hot. I think, there is 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.

Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;

But will they come, when you do call for them?

Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command 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,

And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him,

Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

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 our right, According to our three-fold order ta'en?

Mort.

The archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits, very equally.

England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
By south and east is to my part assign'd:

All westward, Wales, beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,

To Owen Glendower: - and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
Which being sealed interchangeably,
(A business that this night may execute)
To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I,
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth,
To meet your father, and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,

Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
Within that space you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.

Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;
And in my conduct shall your ladies come:
From whom you now must steal, and take no leave;