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ACT III. SCENE I.-Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's By telling truth : tell truth, and shame the devil.House.
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer, and Glen O! while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.
Mort. Come, come;
Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made · Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, will head you sit down ?-And, uncle Worcester. A plague Against my power : thrice from the banks of Wye, upon it! I have forgot the map:
And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him
Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.
Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too! For by that name as oft as Lancaster
How 'scap'd he agues, in the devil's name? Doth speak of you,
Glend. Come, here's the map: shall we divide our His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh
right, He wisheth you in heaven.
According to our three-fold order ta’en ? Hot. And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glen- Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it dower spoke of.
Into three limits, very equally.
By south and east is to my part assign'd:
All westward, Wales, beyond the Severn shore, The frame and huge foundation of the earth
And all the fertile land within that bound, Shak'd like a coward.
To Owen Glendower :-and, dear coz, to you Hot. Why, so it would have done at the same season, The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. if your mother's cat had but kitten'd, though yourself And our indentures tripartite are drawn, had never been born.
Which being sealed interchangeably, Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born. (A business that this night may execute)
Hot. And I say the earth was not of my mind, To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I, If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth, Glend. The heavens were all on fire; the earth did To meet your father, and the Scottish power, tremble.
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. Hot. O! then the earth shook to see the heavens on My father Glendower is not ready yet, fire,
Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.And not in fear of your nativity.
Within that space you may have drawn together Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
[To Glendower. In strange eruptions : oft the teeming earth
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vex'd
Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords; By the imprisoning of unruly wind
And in my conduct shall your ladies come :
In quantity equals not one of yours.
See, how this river comes me cranking in,
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I'll have the current in this place damm'd up,
It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
To rob me of so rich bottom here. I am not in the roll of common men.
Glend. Not wind ? it shall; it must: you see, it doth. Where is he living,-clipp'd in with the sea
Mort. Yea, but mark, how he bears his course, and That cbides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
runs me up Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
With like advantage on the other side ; And bring him out, that is but woman's son,
Gelding the opposed continent, as much Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
As on the other side it takes from you. And hold me pace in deep experiments.
Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here, Hot. I think, there is no man speaks better Welsh. And on this north side win this cape of land ; I'll to dinner.
And then he runs all straight and evenly. Mort. Peace, cousin Percy! you will make him mad. Hot. I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Glend. I will not have it alter'd. Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;
Will not you? But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. No, nor you
shall not Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command Hot.
Who shall say me nay? the devil.
Glend. Why, that will I. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, Hot.
Let me not understand you then : Percy,
Speak it in Welsh.
Beguiling them of commendation, Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you, Hot. Well, I am school'd : good manners be your For I was train'd up in the English court;
speed. Where, being but young, I framed to the harp Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. Many an English ditty, lovely well,
Re-enter GLENDOWER, with the Ladies. And gave the tongue a helpful ornament;
Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me; A virtue that was never seen in you.
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart. Glend. My daughter weeps: she will not part with I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew,
you; Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers : She'll be a soldier too; she'll to the wars. I had rather hear a brazen can'stick turn'd,
Mort. Good father, tell her, that she, and my aunt Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Shall follow in your conduct speedily. Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
[GLENDOWER speaks to her in Welsh, and she "Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.
answers him in the same. Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
Glend. She's desperate here;
A peevish self-will'd harlotry, and one I'll give thrice so much land to any well-deserving That no persuasion can do good upon. friend;
[She speaks to Mortimer in Welsh. But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
Mort. I understand thy looks : that pretty Welsh I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
Which thou pour'st down from these welling heavens, Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
Glend. The moon shines fair, you may away by night: In such a parley would I answer thee. I'll haste the writer, and withal, I'll break
[She speaks again. With your young wives of your departure hence. I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
And that's a feeling disputation : So much she doteth on her Mortimer.
[Exit. But I will never be a truant, love, Mort. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father. Till I have learn'd thy language ; for thy tongue
Hot. I cannot choose: sometime he angers me Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
With ravishing division, to her lute.
Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will she e'en run mad. A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,
[She speaks again. A couching lion, and a ramping cat,
Mort. O! I am ignorance itself in this. And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
Glend. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,
down, He held me, last night, at the least nine hours, And rest your gentle head upon In reckoning up the several devils' names,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, That were his lackeys: I cried, “humph,” and “well,” And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep, “go to,"
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness; But mark'd him not a word. O! he's as tedious Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep, As a tired horse, a railing wife ;
As is the difference betwixt day and night, Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team With cheese and garlick in a windmill, far,
Begins his golden progress in the east. Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear her sing: In any summer-house in Christendom.
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Glend. Do so; Exceedingly well read, and profited
And those musicians that shall play to you In strange concealments; valiant as a lion,
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence; And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
And straight they shall be here. Sit, and attend. As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin ?
Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down : He holds your temper in a high respect,
Come, quick, quick; that I may lay my head in thy And curbs himself even of his natural scope,
lap. When you do cross his humour; 'faith, he does. Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose. [The Music plays. I warrant you, that man is not alive,
Hot. Now I perceive, the devil understands Welsh ; Might so have tempted him as you have done, And 'tis no marvel, he is so humorous. Without the taste of danger and reproof :
By'r lady, he's a good musician. But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
Lady P. Then, should you be nothing but musical, Wor. In faith, my wilful lord, you are to blame, For you are altogether governed by humours. And since your coming hither have done enough Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing To put him quite beside his patience.
In Welsh. You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: Hot. I had rather hear, lady, my brach, howl in Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood, Irish. And that's the dearest grace it renders you,
Lady P. Would'st thou have thy head broken? Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Hot. No. Defect of manners, want of government,
Lady P. Then be still. Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain :
Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. The least of which, haunting a nobleman,
Lady P. Now, God help thee! Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed. Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Lady P. What's that?
Hot. Peace ? she sings. [A Welsh Song by Lady M. So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Had still kept loyal to possession,
And left me in reputeless banishment, You swear like to a comfit-maker's wife.
A fellow of no mark, nor likelihood. Not
yours, in good sooth; and, as true as I live; By being seldom seen, I could not stir,
And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, Come, sing.
Even in the presence of the crowned king. Lady P. I will not sing.
Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new; Hot! 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red- My presence, like a robe pontifical, breast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away Ne’er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, within these two hours; and so come in when ye will. Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast,
[Exit. And won by rareness such solemnity. Glend. Come on, lord Mortimer; you are as slow, The skipping king, he ambled up and down As hot lord Percy is on fire to go.
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits, By this our book is drawn: we'll seal, and part Soon kindled, and soon burn’d; discarded state; To horse immediately.
Mingled his royalty with carping fools ; Mort.
With all my heart. [Exeunt. Had his great name profaned with their scorns; SCENE II.-London. A Room in the Palace.
And gave his countenance, against his name, Enter King HenRY, Prince of Wales, and Lords.
To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative: K. Hen. Lords, give us leave. The Prince of Wales Grew a companion to the common streets, and I,
Enfeoff*d himself to popularity : Must have some private conference : but be near at That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, nd,
They surfeited with honey; and bega For we shall presently have need of you.
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
[Exeunt Lords. More than a little is by much too much. I know not whether God will have it so,
So, when he had occasion to be seen, For some displeasing service I have done,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June, That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes, He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; As, sick and blunted with community, But thou dost, in thy passages of life,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty,
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down, Could such inordinate, and low desires,
Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, As cloudy men use to their adversaries, Such barren pleasures, rude society,
Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full. As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to,
And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou; Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
For thou hast lost thy princely privilege, And hold their level with thy princely heart? With vile participation : not an eye
P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would, I could But is a-weary of thy common sight, Quit all offences with as clear excuse,
Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more ; As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge
Which now doth that I would not have it do, Myself of many I am charg'd withal:
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. Yet such extenuation let me beg,
P. Hen. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord, As, in reproof of many tales devis'd,
Be more myself.
K. Hen. For all the world,
And even as I was then is Percy now.
Now by my scepter, and my soul to boot, K. Hen. God pardon thee!-yet let me wonder, Harry, He hath more worthy interest to the state, At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Than thou the shadow of succession: Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
For of no right, nor colour like to right, Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
He doth fill
fields with harness in the realm, Wbich by thy younger brother is supplied ;
Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, And art almost an alien to the hearts
And, being no more in debt to years than thou, Of all the court, and princes of my blood :
Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on The hope and expectation of thy time
To bloody battles, and to bruising arms. Is ruin'd; and the soul of every man
What never-dying honour hath he got Prophetically doth fore-think thy fall.
Against renowned Douglas; whose high deeds, Had I so lavish of my presence been,
Whose hot incursions, and great name in arms, So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
Holds from all soldiers chief majority,
And military title capital,
Our hands are full of business : let's away;
Enter Falstaff and BARDOLPH.
Fal. Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this And shake the peace and safety of our throne. last action ? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why, And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown: The archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, I am wither'd like an old apple-John. Well, I'll repent, Capitulate against us, and are up.
and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shalí But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the Which art my near’st and dearest enemy?
inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, a Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, brewer's horse. The inside of a church! Company, Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
villainous company, hath been the spoil of me. To fight against me under Percy's pay,
Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. To dog his heels, and court'sy at his frowns,
Fal. Why, there is it.—Come, sing me a bawdy To show how much thou art degenerate.
song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a P. Hen. Do not think so; you shall not find it so: gentleman need to be; virtuous enough : swore little ; And God forgive them, that so much have sway'd diced not above seven times a week; went to a bawdyYour majesty's good thoughts away from me! house not above once in a quarter-of an hour; paid I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
money that I borrowed three or four times; lived well, And in the closing of some glorious day,
and in good compass; and now I live out of all order, Be bold to tell you that I am your son ;
out of all compass. When I will wear a garment all of blood,
Bard. Why, you are so fat, sir John, that you must And stain my favour in a bloody mask,
needs be out of all compass; out of all reasonable comWhich, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
pass, sir John. And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my That this same child of honour and renown,
life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern not This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
in the poop,—but 'tis in the nose of thee : thou art the And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. knight of the burning lamp. For every honour sitting on his helm,
Bard. Why, sir John, my face does you no harm. 'Would they were multitudes; and on my head Fal. No; I'll be sworn, I make as good use of it as My shames redoubled ! for the time will come, many a man doth of a death's head, or a memento mori: That I shall make this northern youth exchange I never see thy face, but I think upon hell-fire, and His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virTo engross up glorious deeds on my behalf ;
tue, I would swear by thy face : my oath should be, By And I will call him to so strict account,
this fire, that's God's angel: but thou art altogether That he shall render every glory up,
given over, and wert, indeed, but for the light in thy Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
face, the son of utter darkness. When thou ran'st up Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not This, in the name of God, I promise here:
think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus, or a ball of wildThe which, if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
fire, there's no purchase in money. 0! thou art a perI do beseech your majesty, may salve
petual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light. Thou hast The long-grown wounds of my intemperance : saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walkIf not, the end of life cancels all bands;
ing with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern : And I will die a hundred thousand deaths,
but the sack that thou hast drunk me, would have Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
bought me lights as good cheap, at the dearest chandK. Hen. A hundred thousand rebels die in this ! ler's in Europe. I have maintained that salamander Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust herein. of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years : Enter BLUNT.
God reward me for it! How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. Bard. 'Sblood ! I would my face were in your belly.
Blunt. So is the business that I come to speak of. Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heartLord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,
burned. That Douglas, and the English rebels met,
Enter Hostess. The eleventh of this month, at Shrewsbury.
How now, dame Partlet the hen? have you inquired A mighty and a fearful head they are,
yet who picked my pocket? If promises be kept on every hand,
Host. Why, sir John, what do you think, sir John ? As ever offer'd foul play in a state.
Do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have K. Hen. The earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day, searched, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by With him my son, lord John of Lancaster;
man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a For this advertisement is five days old.
hair was never lost in my house before. On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; Fal. You lie, hostess : Bardolph was shaved, and lost On Thursday we ourselves will march:
many a hair; and I'll be sworn, my pocket was picked. Our meeting is Bridgnorth; and, Harry, you
Go to, you are a woman; go. Shall march through Glostershire; by which account, Host. Who I? No. I defy thee: God's light! I Our business valued, some twelve days hence
was never called so in mine own house before. Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.
Fal. Go to; I know you well enough.
Host. No, sir John; you do not know me, sir John : Host. So he doth you, my lord ; and said this other I know you, sir John : you owe me money, sir John, day, you ought him a thousand pound. and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I P. Hen. Širrah! do I owe you a thousand pound? bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.
Fal. A thousand pound, Hal! a million : thy love Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. to bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said
Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight he would cudgel you. shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, sir Fal. Did I, Bardolph? John, for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent Bard. Indeed, sir John, you said so. you, four and twenty pound.
Fal. Yea; if he said my ring was copper. Fal. He had his part of it: let him pay.
P. Hen. I say, 'tis copper: darest thou be as good Host. He ? alas ! he is poor: he hath nothing: as thy word now?
Fal. How! poor? look upon his face; what call you Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, rich ? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks. I dare; but as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker the roaring of the lion's whelp. of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I P. Hen. And why not, as the lion. shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion. of my grandfather's, worth forty mark.
Dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, Host O Jesu! I have heard the prince tell him, I an I do, I pray God, my girdle break! know not how oft, that that ring was copper.
P. Hen. o! if it should, how would thy guts fall Fal. How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup; about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, Sblood ! an he were here, I would cudgel him like a truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine ; it is filled dog, if he would say so.
up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman Enter Prince Henry and Poins, marching. Falstaff with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, immeets the Prince, playing on his truncheon, like a fife. pudent, einbossed rascal, if there were any thing in thy
Fal. How now, lad ! is the wind in that door, i' pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdyfaith? must we all march?
houses, and one poor penny-worth of sugar-candy to Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion? make thee long winded; if thy pocket were enriched Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me.
with any other injuries but these, I am a villain : and P. Hen. What sayest thou, mistress Quickly? How yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong. does thy husband ? I love him well : he is an honest Art thou not ashamed ?
Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal ? thou knowest in the Host. Good my lord, hear me.
state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Fal. Pr’ythee let her alone, and list to me. Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? Thou seest P. Hen. What sayest thou, Jack ?
I have more flesh than another man, and therefore Fal. The other night I fell asleep, here, behind the more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my arras, and had my pocket picked : this house is turned pocket? bawdy-house ; they pick pockets.
P. Hen. It appears so by the story. P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack ?
Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee. Go, make ready Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, forty pound a-piece, and a seal ring of my grandfather's. cherish thy guests : thou shalt find me tractable to any
P. Hen. A trifle ; some eight-penny matter. honest reason : thou seest, I am pacified.—Still ?-Nay,
Host. So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard pr’ythee begone. (Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the your grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely news at court: for the robbery, lady-how is that of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is, and said, he answered ? would cudgel you.
P. Hen. O! my sweet beef, I must still be good P. Hen. What! he did not ?
angel to thee.—The money is paid back again. Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood Fal. O! I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double in me else.
labour. Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and may prune; nor no more truth in thee, than in a drawn fox; do any thing. and for womanhood, maid Marian may be the deputy's Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go.
and do it with unwashed hands too. Host. Say, what thing? what thing?
Bard. Do, my lord. Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God on. P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
Host. I am nothing to thank God on, I would thou Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall I should'st know it: I am an honest man's wife; and, find one that can steal well? O! for a fine thief, of the setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call age of two-and-twenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously
unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels; Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast they offend none but the virtuous : I laud them, Í to say otherwise. Host. Say, what beast, thou knave thou?
P. Hen. Bardolph ! Fal. What beast? why an otter.
Bard. My lord. P. Hen. An otter, sir John: why an otter?
P. Hen. Ġo bear this letter to lord John of Lancaster, Fal. Why? she's neither fish nor flesh; a man To my brother John; this to my lord of Westmoreland.knows not where to have her.
Go, Poins, to horse, to horse! for thou, and I, Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so: thou or Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou! Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-hall
P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders At two o'clock in the afternoon : thee most grossly.
There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive