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and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much that he swears 69 thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayest, and so farewell.

Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it with mine 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.

Enter BARDOLPH and Page.

Prince. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not transformed him ape.

Bird. God save your grace !


Prince. And yours, most noble Bardolph. Bard. To the Page. Come, you virtuous ass, you bishful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is it such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead?

Page. A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his fice from the window at last I spied his eyes, and methought he had made two holes in the ale wife's new petticoat, and peeped through. 90 Prince. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard, Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!

Paje. Away, you rascally Althæa'sdream,away! | Prince. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althæa dreamed she was delivered of a firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.

Prince. A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis, boy. Gives him money. 100 Poins. O! that this good blossom could be kept from cankers. Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.

Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among yon, the gallows shall have wrong.

Prince. 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.

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

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.

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

Poins, John Falstaff, knight,-every man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself; even like those that are kin to the king, for they never prick their finger but they say 'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How 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.' Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But to 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.

Prince. Peace !


Poins. I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity: he sure means brevity in breath, shortwinded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee,

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. 14 My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it.

Prince. That 's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?

Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! but I never said so.

Prince. 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.


Prince. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. Prince. What company?

Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. Prince. Sup any women with him? Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.


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SCENE III.-Warkworth. Before NORTHUM-

North. I pray thee, loving wife and gentle

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.

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SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Boar's
Head Tavern in Eastcheap.

Enter two Drawers.

First Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there apple-johns? thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.

Second Draw. Mass, thou savest true. The and told him there were five more Sir Johns; prince once set a dish of apple-johns before him, 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.


First Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down: and see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the room where they supped is too hot; they 'll come in straight.

Second 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.

First Draw. By the mass, here will be o.d utis: it will be an excellent stratagem. Second Draw. I'll see if I can find out Sneak.



Enter Mistress QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET. Quick. I faith, sweetheart, 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

you have drunk too much canaries, and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?


Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name red as any rose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith,
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 1, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

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, 5)
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,

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Doll. Better than I was: hem! Quick. 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.-Empty the jordan,-And was a worthy king. Exit First Drawer.

How now, Mistress Doll!

Quick. Sick of a calm: yea, gool 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 di eases make them; I make them not.

Fal. If the cook help to make the glutton", you help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, n y poor virtue, grant that.

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Doll. Ay, marry; our chains and our jewels. Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and owches': for 'Tis 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,

As with the tide swelï'd up unto his 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.


Doll. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang


Quick. 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. Doll. 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 First Drawer.


First 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-mouthedest rogue in England.

Quick. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live among 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?


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Pist. I know you, Mistress Dorothy. Doll. 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. God let me not live, but 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.

Quick. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

Quick. Pray you, pacify yourself, Sir John: captain, you slave! for what? for tearing a poor there comes no swaggerers here.

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Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. Quick. Tilly-fally, 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, 'twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, Neighbour Quickly,' says he; Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then; "Neighbour Quickly,' says he, 'receive those that are civil; for,' said he, 'you are in an ill name: now a' 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 greyhound he will not swagger with a Barbary hen if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance. Call him up, drawer.

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Doll. 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 whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him, rogue! he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God's light, these villains will make the word 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. 10 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.

Pist. I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, fates! Have we not Hiren here?


Quick. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack-horses,

And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,
And Troyan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Quick. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.


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Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou
Laying down his sword.
Come we to full points here, and are et ceteras

Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif. What! we have seen the seven stars.

Doll. For God's sake, thrust him down stairs! I cannot endure such a fustian arscal.

Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags!

201 Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shovegroat shilling: nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing, a' shall be nothing here.

Bard. Come, get you down stairs. Pist. What shall we have incision? shall we Snatching up his sword. imbrue? Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!

Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I

Quick. Here's goodly stuff toward!
Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.


Doll. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. Drawing. Fal. Get you down stairs. Quick. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now. Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons; put up your naked weapons.


Exeunt BARDOLPH and PISTOL. Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's Ah! you whoreson little valiant villain, gone. you. Quick. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Re-enter BARDOLPH.

Fal. Have you turned him out o' doors? Bard. Yea, sir: the rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir, i' the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal, to brave me!

Doll. Ah! you sweet little rogue, you! Alas! Come, let me poor ape, how thou sweatest. wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops. Ah! rogue, i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the Nine Worthies. Ah! villain.


Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Doll. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Music.

Page. The music is come, sir.

Fal. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver.


Doll. I' faith, and thou followedst him like a
church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew
boar pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days,
and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up
thine old body for heaven?

Enter behind, the PRINCE and POINS, disguised
like Drawers.

Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a
death's head: do not bid me remember mine end.

Doll. Sirrah, what humour's the prince of?
Fal. A good shallow young fellow a' would
bread well.
have made a good pantler, a' would ha' chipped

Doll. They say Poins has a good wit.


Fal. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! his
wit's as thick as Tewksbury mustard: there 's-
no more conceit in him than is in a mallet.

Doll. Why does the prince love him so, then?
Fal. Because their legs are both of a biguess,
and a' plays at quoits well, and eats conger and.
fennel, and drinks off candles' ends for flap-
and jumps upon joint-stools, and swears with a
dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys,
good grace, and wears his boot very smooth,
like unto the sign of the leg, and breeds no bate
with telling of discreet stories; and such other
and an able body, for the which the prince
gambol faculties a' has, that show a weak mind
admits him: for the prince himself is such
scales between their avoirdupois.
another; the weight of a hair will turn the


Prince. Would not this nave of a wheel have
his ears cut off?

Poins. Let's beat him before his whore.
Prince. Look, whether the withered elder
Poins. Is it not strange that desire should so
hath not his poll clawed like a parrot.
Fal. Kiss me, Doll.
many years outlive performance ?


Prince. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanac to that? Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables, his note book, his counsel-keeper.

Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Doll. By my troth, 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.


Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money o' Thursday; shalt have a cap toA merry song! come: it grows late; Thou 'lt forget me when I am we'll to bed. morrow. gone.

Dol. By my troth, thou 'lt set me a-weeping an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return. Well, hearken at

the end.

Ful. Some sack, Francis!

Prince, Poins. Anon, anon, sir.



Coming forward. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's. art not thou Poins his brother? Prince. 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.

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


Quick. O the Lord preserve thy good grace;
O Jesu!
by my troth, welcome to London. Now, the
are you come from Wales?
Lord bless that sweet face of thine!
Ful. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,
by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art

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 | So idly to profane the precious time, not the heat.


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

Prince. I shall drive you then to confess the wilfulabase; and then I know how to handle you. Pal. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.

Prince. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse!


Fa'. No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which doing I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none: no, faith, boys, none.

Prince. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked? Is thine 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, where he doth nothing but roast maltworms. For the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too.

Prince. For the women?


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

Quick. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.


Quick. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? Prince. You, gentlewoman.Dll. What says your grace? Fa'. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against. Knocking within. Quick. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.

Enter PETO.

Prince. Peto, how now! what news? Peto The king your father is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north: and, as I came along, I met and overtook a dozen captains, 382 Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. Prince. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,

When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to meit
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak Fal-taff, good night.
Ful. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the
night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.
Knocking withia.
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. To the Page. Pay the musicians, sirrah.
You see, my
Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll.


good wenches, how men of merit are sought after the undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.


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K. Hen. Go call the earls of Surrey and of Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'eriead these letters,

And well consider of them. Make good speed.
Exit Paye

How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O'sleep! O gentle sleep!
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted the,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness!
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy

Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,


And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god! why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruilian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them

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