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SCENE II – The Road by Gadshill.

Gads. Some eight, or ten.
Enter PRINCE HENRY and Poins; BARDOLPH and

Pal. Zounds! will they not rob us ?
Peto, at some distance.

P. Hen. What, a coward, sir John Paunch?

Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your Poins. Come, shelter, shelter ; I have removed grandfather : but yet no coward, Hal. Falstaff's borse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof. P. Hen. Stand close,

Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the Enter Falstaff.

hedge; when thou need’si him, there thou shalt find Fal. Poing' Poins, and be hanged ! Poins !

him. Farewell, and stand fast. P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal; What a

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be brawling dost thou keep!

hanged. Fal. Where's Poins, Hal?

P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises ? P. Hen. He is walked up to the top of the hill ;

Poins. Here, hard by; stand close. I'll go seek him. [Pretends to seek Poins.

(Éreunt P. Henry and Poins. Fal. I am accursed to rob in that thief's company:

Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I say I; every man to his business. know not where. If I travel but four foot by the

Enter Travellers. squire further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well,

1 Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I horses down the hill: we'll walk aloot awhile, and 'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have for ease our legs. sworn his company hourly any time this two-and- Thieves. Stand! twenty years; and yet I am bewitched with the

Trav. Jesu bless us ! rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains' medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it throats: Ah! whoreson caterpillars ! bacon- fed could not be else; I have drunk medicines.- Poins! knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; fleece -Hal!-a plague upon you both!- Bardolph!- them. Peto !- I'll starve, ere I'll rob a foot further. An

I Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for 'twere not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man, ever. and leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves; Are ye undone ? ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven No, ye fat chuffs ; I would, your store were bere ! ground, is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves ? young men and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: must live: You are grand-jurors, are ye? We'll A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true to one jure ye, i'faith. another! (They whistle.) Whew !-A plague upon (Eseunt Pals. &c. driving the Travellers out. you all! Give me my horse, you rogues ; give me my horse, and be hanged.

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and Poins. P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine P. Hen. The thieves have bound the true men : ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merthe tread of travellers.

rily to London, it would be argument for a week, Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, be- laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. ing down ? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own fesh so Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming. far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's ex

Re-enter Thieves. chequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus ? P. Hen. Thuu liest, thou art not colted, thou art to horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be

Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then uncolted. Pal. I prythee, good prince Hal, help me to my there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild

not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring : börse, good king's son.

duck. P. Hen. Out, you rogue ! shall I be your ostler ?

P. Hen. Your money. Fel. Go, hang thyself in thy own heir-apparent

(Rushing out upon them,

Poins. Villains. garters! If I bo ta’en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy tunes,

(As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set

upon them FALSTAFF, after a blow or two, let a cup of sack be my poison: When a jest is so

and the rest, run away, leaving their booty beforward, and afoot too, I hate it.

hind them. Enter GADSHILL.

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily to Gads. Stand.

horse : Fal. So I do, against my will.

The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear Poins, 0, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. So strongly, that they dare not meet each other; Enter BARDOLPH.

Each takes his fellow for an officer. Bard. What news ?

Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, Gads. Case ye, case ye; on with your visors ; And lards the lean earth as he walks along : there's money of the king's coming down the hill; Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him. 'tis going to the king's exchequer.

Poins. How the rogue roard !

(Ereun: Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the king'SCENE III.-Warkworth. A Room in the Castle. tavern. Gads. There's enough to make us all.

Enter HotSPUR, reading a letter. Fal. To be banged.

But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be P. Hen. Sirs, you four shall front them in the well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower; if your house. - He could be contented, -Why is he they 'scape from your encounter, then they light not then? In respect of the love he bears our house:

- he shows in this, he loves his own barn better Peto. How many be there of them?

than he loves our house. Let me see some more

On us

The purpose you underluke, is dangerous ; — Wby,


That roan shall be my throne. that's certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to Well, I will back him straight : O esperance. sleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord fool, out of Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.

(Exit Servant The purpose you undertake, is dangerous; the friends Lady. But hear you, my lord. you have named, uncertain; the time itself, unsorted; Hot.

What say’st, my lady? and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoise of Lady. What is it carries you away? 80 greal an opposition. -Say you so, say you so? I Hot.

My horse, say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly My love, my horse. hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this? By Lady.

Out, you mad-headed ape ! the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laido; A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen, our friends true and constant: a good plot, good As you are toss'd with. In faith, friends, and full of expectation: an excellent plot, I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir this? Why, my lord of York commends the plot, About his title; and hath sent for you, and the general course of the action. 'Zounds, an I To line his enterprize : But if you go were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, Direetly to this question that I ask. and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, Douglas ? Have I not all their letters, to meet me An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. in arms by the ninth of next month ? and are they Hot. Away, not, some of them, set forward already? What a Away, you trifler! - Love? --- I love thee not pagan rascal is this ? an infidel? Ha! you shall I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world, sce now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips : will he to the king, and lay open all our proceed- We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns, ings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, And pass them current too.-Gods me, my horse! for moving such a dish of skimmed milk with so What say'st thou, Kate ? what would’st thou have honourable an action! Hang him! Let him tell

with me? the king: We are prepared : I will set forward to- Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed ? night.

Well, do not then; for, since you love me not,
Enter Lady Percy.

I will not love myself. Do you not love me?

Nay, tell me, if you speak in jest, or no. How now, Kate ? I must leave you within these Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride? two hours.

And when I am o'horseback, I will swear Lady. O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; For what offence have I, this fortnight, been I must not have you henceforth question me A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed ?

Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee

Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep ? This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth; I know you wise ; but yet no further wise,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone ?

Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are;
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,

No lady closer; for I well believe,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy? Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd,

And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate!
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars :

Lady. How! so far? Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;

Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate ? Cry, Courage ; to the field! And thou hast talk'd Whither I go, thither shall you go too; Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,

To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets ;

Will this content you, Kate ? of basilisks, of cannon, culverin;


It must, of force. Of prisoners' ransome, and of soldiers slain,

(E.reunt. And all the 'currents of a heady right. Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, SCENE IV.—Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's And thus bath so bestir'd thee in thy sleep,

Head Tavern. That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,

Enter PRINCE HENRY and Poins. Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream:

P. Hen. Ned, pr'ythee, come out of that fat room, And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,

and lend me thy hand to laugh a little. Such as we see when men restrain their breath

Poins. Where hast been, Hal ? On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst these?

three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,

very base string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn And I must know it, else he loves me not. Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone ? by their Christian names, as-Tom, Dick, and

brother to a leash of drivers; and can call them all Enter Servant.

Francis. They take it already upon their salvation,

that, though I'be but prince of Wales, yet I am the Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago. (sheriff? king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the Jack, like Falstaff; but a Corinthian, a lad of metServ. One horse, my lord, he brought even now. tle, a good boy,—by the Lord, so they call me; and Hot. What horse ? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not ? when I am king of England, I shall command all Serv. It is, my lord.

the good lads in Eastcheap. They call--drinking deep, dying scarlet: and when you breathe in your

Enter Vintner. watering, they cry-hem! and bid you play it off. Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quar- a calling ? Look to the guests within. [Exit Fran.) ter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in My lord, old sir John, with half a dozen more, are his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, at the door; Shall I let them in ? thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open me in this action. But, sweet Ned, -to sweeten the door. [Erit Vintner.] Poins ! which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of

Re-enter Poins. sugar, clapped even now into my hand by an underskinner; one that never spake other English in his

Poins. Anon, anon, sir. life, than-Eight shillings and sixpence, and you

P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are welcome ; with this shrill addition, - Anon, anon,

are at the door; Shall we be merry ? sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon, or so.

Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff coine, ye; what cunning match have you made with this I prythee, do thou stand in some by-room, while i jest of the drawer ? come, what's the issue ? question my puny drawer, to what end he gave me showed themselves humours, since the old days of

P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that have the sugar; and do thou never leave calling-Francis, that his tale to me may be nothing but-anon. goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present Siep aside, and I'll show thee a precedent.

twelve o'clock at midnight. (Re-enter Francis, Poins. Francis !

with wine.) What's o'clock, Francis ? P. Hen. Thou art perfect.

Fran. Anon, anon, sir. Poins. Francis!

(Exit Poins.

P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer

words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! Enter FRANCIS.

His industry is-up-stairs, and down-stairs; his eloFran. Anon, anon, sir.-Look down into the po. Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that

quence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of megranate, Ralph. P. Hen. Come hither, Francis !

kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakFran. My lord.

fast, washes his hands, and says to his wife,-Fye P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis ?

upon this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet Fran. Forsooth, five year, and as much as to

Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Poins. (Within.] Francis !

Give my roan horse a drench, says he, and answers, Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I P. Hen. Five years! öy’rlady, a long lease for pr’ythee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and that the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer his wife. be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy inden-Rivo, says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. ture, and to shew it a fair pair of heels, and run Enter Falstaff, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and from it?

PETO. Fran. O lord, sir! I'll be sworn upon all the Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been ? books in England, I could find in my heart

Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a venPoins. [Within.] Francis !

geance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis ?

nether-stocks, and mend them, and foot them too. Fran. Let me see, -About Michaelmas nest, I A plague of all cowards !–Give me a cup of sack, shall be

rogue.-Is there no virtue extant ? [He drinks. Poins. | Within.] Francis !

P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of Fran. Anon, sir.--Pray you, stay a little, my lord. butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the

P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis :-For the sweet tale of the son! if thou didst, then behold sugar thou gavest me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't that compound. not?

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too : Fran. O lord, sir! I would it had been two. There is nothing but roguery to be found in vil. P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: lainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt bave it. sack with lime in it; a villainous coward.—Go thy Poins. (Within.) Francis !

ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, Fran. Anon, anon.

good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the P. Hen. Anon, Francis ? No, Francis: but to-earth, then I ain a shotten herring. There live not morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, in three good men ur banged in England; and one of deed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis, them is fat, and grows old; God help the while! a Fran. My lord,

bad world, I say? I would I were a weaver; I could P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crys- sing psalms or any thing : A plague of all cowards, tal button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, I say still. caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch, - P. Hen. How now, woolsack? what mutter you? Fran. O lord, sir, who do you mean?

Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of P. Hen. Why, then, your brown bastard is your thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy only drink: for, look you, Francis, your white can subjects afore thee like a Hock of wild geese, I'd vas doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot never wear hair on my face more. You prince of come to so much.

Wales ! Fran. What, sir ?

P. Hen Why, you whoreson round man! what's Poins. (Within.] Francis !

the matter ? P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear Fal. Are you not a coward ? answer me to that; 'hem call ?

and Poins there? (Here they both call him; the Drawer stands Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat punch, an ye call me cor.

amazed, not knowing which way ყი. ard, I'll stab thee.


Pal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned P. Hen. So, two more already.
ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand Fal. Their points being broken,
pound, I could run us fast as thou canst.

You are

Poins. Down fell their hose. straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who Fal. Began to give me ground : But I followed sees your back: Call you that, backing of your me close, came in foot and hand : and, with a friends ? A plague upon such backing? give me thought, seven of the eleven I paid. them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack :- P. Hen. monstrous ! cleven buckram men I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day.

grown out of two! P. Hen. Ő villain! thy lips are scarce wiped Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three mis. since thou drunk'st last.

begotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, Pal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, and let drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that still say I.

He drinks. thou could'st not see thy hand ? P. Hen. What's the matter?

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets Fal. What's the matter ? there be four of us here them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, have ta'en a thousand pound this morning. thou clay-brained guts ; thou knotty-pated fool

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack ? where is it? thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow.keech,

Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred Fal. What, art thou mad ? 'art thou mad ? is not upon poor four us.

the truth, the truth? P. Hen. What, a hundred, man?

P. Hen. Why, how could’st thou know these men Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou could'st with a dozen of them two hours together. I have not see thy hand ? come tell us your reason ; What 'scapd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through sayest thou to this ? the doublet; four through the hose ; my buckler Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. cut through and through, my sword hacked like a Fal. What, upon compulsion ? No; were I at hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason ou cowards !— Let them speak : if they speak more or compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberless than truth, they are villains, and the sons of ries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, darkness,

1P. Hen. Speak, sirs; how was it ?

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this Gads. We four set upon some dozen,

sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this borse backFal. Sixteen, at least, my lord.

breaker, this huge hill of flesh;Gads. And bound them.

Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried Peto. No, no, they were not bound.

neat’s-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish,-0, for Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of breath to utter what is like thee:-you tailor's yard, them; or I an am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck ;Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh P. Hen. Well, breathe a while, and then to i• men set upon us,

again: and when thou hast tired thyself in bas: Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in comparisons, hear me speak but this. the other.

Poins. Mark, Jack. P Hen. What, fought ye with them all ?

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you Fal. All? I kuow not what ye call, all; but if 1 bound them, and were masters of their wealth.--fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of ra- Mark now, how plain a tale shall put you if there were not two or three and fifty upon Then did we two set on you four : and, with a word, poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged creature. out-faced you from your prize, and have it, yea, and

Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some can show it you here in the house :-and, Falstaff, of them.

you carried your guts away as nimbly, wiin as quick Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: I have pep- dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and pered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid ; roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave ar. two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and thea if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. say, it was in fight! What trick, what device, what Thou knowest my old ward;-here I lay, and thus starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive from this open and apparent shame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast P. Hen. What, four ? thou said'st but two, even thou now?

Pal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four.

made ye. Wby, hear ye, my masters : Was it for Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.

me, to kill the heir apparent?

Should I turn upon Pal. These four came all a-front, and mainly the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as vathrust at me.

I made me no more ado, but took all liant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will their seven points in my target, thus.

not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; P. Hen. Seven ? why, there were but four, even I was a coward on instinct, I shall think the better

of myself, and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant Fal. In buckram.

lion, and thou, for a true prince. But, by the Lord, Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits.

lads, I am glad you have the money.- -Hostess, Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.' clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow. P. Hen. Pr’ythee, let him alone; we shall have Gallants, la is, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles

of good fellowship come to you? What, shall we Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal ?

be merry? shall we have o play extempore ? P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee + Jack.

P. Hen. Content;--and the argument shall be. Pal. Do so, for it is worth the listening tn. thy running away These nine in buckram, that I told thee of,


Fal. Ab? no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest m

at me,



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Enter Hostess.

Fal. () horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will Host. My lord the prince,

not budge a foot. P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess ? what P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. say'st thou to me?

Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps court at door, would speak with you: he says, he more: Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's wines from your father.

beard is turned white with the news; you may buy P. Hen. Give him as auch as will make him a land now as cheap as stinking mackarel. roval man, and send him back again to my mother. P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot Pal. What manner of man is he?

June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy Host. An old man.

maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. What doth gravity out of his bd a mid- Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like, night?-Shall I give him his answer ?

we shall have good trading that way.—But, tell me, P. Hen. Prythee, do, Jack.

Hal, art thou not horribly a feard ? thou being heir Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. (Erit. apparent, could the world pick thee out three such

P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r lady, you fought fair; enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit --so did you, Peto ;—so did you, Bardolph: you Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will horribly afraid ? doth not thy blood thrill at it ? not touch the true prince; no,-fye!

P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. instinct

P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, How came Fal- Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, staff's sword so hacked ?

when thou comest to thy father : if thou love me, Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and practise an answer. said, he would swear truth out of England, but he P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and exawould make you believe it was done in tight; and mine me upon the particulars of my life. persuaded us to do the like.

Fal. Shall I ? content:- This chair shall be my Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear- state, this dagger my sceptre, and inis cushion my grass, to make them bleed; and then to beslubber crown. cur garments with it, and to swear it was the blood P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy of trut men. I did that I did not this seven year golden sceptre for a leaden dayger, and thy precious before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices. rich crown, for a pitiful bald crown!

P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of and ever since thou hast blush'd extempore: Thou sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be hadst fire and swork on thy side, and yet thou ran’st thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, away; What instinct hadst thou for it?

and will do it in king Cambyses' vein Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors ? do you P. Hen. Well, here is my leg. behold these exhalations ?

Fal. And bere is my speech :-Stand aside, no P. Hen. I do.

bility. Burd. What think you they portend ?

Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith. P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.

Fal. Weep uot, sweet queen, for trickling tears Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.

are vain, P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.

Host, О the father, how he holds his countenance! Re-enter FALSTAFF.

Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful Here comes lean Jack, here comes barc-bone. How

queen, now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long is't For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. ag!, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?

Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these har. Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, lotry players, as I ever see. Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist ;-1 Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklecould have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: brain.-Harry, I do not only marvel where thou A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompalike a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: nied: for though the camomile, the more it is troduen here was sir John Bracy from your father; you must on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is to the court in the morning. That same mad fel- wasted, the sooner it wears.

That thou art my son, low of the North, Percy; and he of Wales, that I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opigave Amaimon the bastinado, and made Lucifer nion; but chietiy, a villainous trick of thine eye, cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon and a foolish hanging of thy netber lip, that doth the cross of a Welsh hook, What, a plague, call warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies

the point :- Why, being son to me, art thou so Poins. O, Glendower.

pointed at ?

Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; and his son-in-la micher, and eat blackberries ? a question not to be law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland ; and that asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and aprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o’horse take purses ? a question to be asked. There is a back up a hill perpendicular.

thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: pistol kills a sparrow flying.

this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile ; Fal. You have bit it.

so Joth the company thou keepest : for, Harry, now P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow.

I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in Fal. Well, that rascal hath good metal in him: pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in he will not run.

woes also ;And set there is a virtuons man, wholo P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to I have olteu aoted in thy company, but I know nox praise him so for running.

his game

you him ?

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