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P. Hen. Belike then, my appetite was not princely become ? Is it such a matter to get a pottlepot's got; for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor maidenhead? creature, small beer. But, indeed, these humble con- Page. He called me even now, my lord, through a siderations make me out of love with my greatness. red lattice, and I could discern no part of his face What a disgrace is it to me, to remember thy name? from the window: at last, I spied his eyes; and, meor to know thy face to-morrow? or to take note how thought, he had made two holes in the ale-wife's new many pair of silk stockings thou hast; viz. these, and red petticoat, and peeped through. those that were thy peach-colour'd ones? or to bear P. Hen. Hath not the boy profited ? the inventory of thy shirts ; as, one for superfluity, and Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! one other for use ?—but that the tennis-court-keeper Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away! knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of linen with P. Hen. Instruct us, boy : what dream, boy? thee, when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dreamed she was denot done a great while, because the rest of thy low- livered of a fire-brand, and therefore I call him her countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: and dream. God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins of P. Hen. A crown's worth of good interpretation.thy linen, shall inherit his kingdom; but the midwives There it is, boy.

[Gives him money. say, the children are not in the fault, whereupon the Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from world increases, and kindreds are mightily strength- cankers ! - Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. ened.

Bard. An you do not make him be hanged among Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so you, the gallows shall have wrong. hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many P. Hen. And how doth thy master, Bardolph ? good young princes would do so, their fathers being Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's so sick as yours at this time is?

coming to town: there's a letter for you. P. Hen. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins ?

Poins. Delivered with good respect. And how doth Poins. Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good the martlemas, your master? thing

Bard. In bodily health, sir. P. Hen. It shall serve among wits of no higher Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; breeding than thine.

but that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies not. Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing P. Hen. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with that you will telí.

me as my dog; and he holds his place, for look you P. Hen. Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I how he writes. should be sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell Poins. [Reads.] “ John Falstaff

, knight,”—every to thee, (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to man must know that, as oft as he has occasion to name call my friend) I could be sad, and sad indeed too. himself; even like those that are kin to the king, for Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject.

they never prick their finger, but they say, “ There is P. Hen. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in the some of the king's blood spilt:” “How comes that?" devil's book, as thou and Falstaff, for obduracy and says he, that takes upon him not to conceive: the anpersistency: let the end try the man. But I tell thee, swer is, as ready as a borrower's cap; “I am the king's my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is so sick; poor cousin, sir." and keeping such vile company as thou art, hath in P. Hen. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. fetch it from Japheth. But to the letter :Poins. The reason ?

Poins. “Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the P. Hen. What would'st thou think of me, if I should king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greetweep?

ing."—Why, this is a certificate. Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypo- P. Hen. Peace! crite.

Poins. “I will imitate the honourable Romans in P. Hen. It would be every man's thought; and thou ' brevity:"—he sure means brevity in breath, shortart a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks : winded, "I commend me to thee, I commend thee, never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for better than thine: every man would think me an hypo- he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears, thou crite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thought to think so?

thou may'st, and so farewell. Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so

Thine, by yea and no, (which is as much much engraffed to Falstaff.

as to say, as thou usest him,) Jack FalP. Hen. And to thee.

staff, with my familiars; John, with Poins. By this light, I am well spoken on; I can

my brothers and sisters; and sir John hear it with mine own ears: the worst that they can

with all Europe.". say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and make him a proper fellow of my bands, and those two things, I eat it. confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bar- P. Hen. That's but to make him eat twenty of his dolph.

words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry P. Hen. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: he had your sister? him from me christian; and look, if the fat villain have Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! but not transformed him ape.

I never said so.
Enter BARDOLPH and Page.

P. Hen. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, Bard. God save your grace.

and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds, and mock P. Hen. And yours, most noble Bardolph.

us.—Is your master here in London? Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, [To the Page.) you Bard. Yes, my lord. bashful fool, must you be blushing? wherefore blush P. Hen. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in you now? What a maidenly man at arms are you the old frank?

your silence.

me, Ned.

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. In disadvantage; to abide a field,
P. Hen. What company?

Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Page. Ephesians, my lord; of the old church. Did seem defensible :-50 you left him.
P. Hen. Sup any women with him?

Never, O! never, do his ghost the wrong, Page. None, my lord, but old mistress Quickly, and To hold your honour more precise and nice mistress Doll Tear-sheet.

With others, than with him : let them alone. P. Hen. What pagan may that be?

The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong: Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, of my master's.

To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, P. Hen. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. the town bull.—Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at North.

Beshrew your heart, supper?

Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from me, Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. With new lamenting ancient oversights. P. Hen. Sirrah, you boy,—and Bardolph;

;-no word But I must go, and meet with danger there, to your master that I am yet come to town: there's for Or it will seek me in another place,

[Giving money. And find me worse provided. Bard. I have no tongue, sir.

Lady N.

0! fly to Scotland. Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it.

Till that the nobles, and the armed commons, P. Hen. Fare ye well; go. (Exeunt BARDOLPH and Have of their puissance made a little taste. Page.]—This Doil Tear-sheet should be some road. Lady P. If they get ground and vantage of the king,

Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way be- Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, tween Saint Alban's and London.

To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, P. Hen. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself First let them try themselves. So did your son ; to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? He was so suffer'd; so came I a widow,

Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins, and aprons, and And never shall have length of life enough, wait upon him at his table as drawers.

To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension! That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice ? a For recordation to my noble husband. low transformation! that shall be mine; for in every North. Come, come, go in with me.

'Tis with my thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow


[Exeunt. As with the tide swell'd up unto its height, SCENE III.—Warkworth. Before the Castle.

That makes a still-stand, running neither way:

Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, Enter NorthumBERLAND, Lady NORTHUMBERLAND,

But many thousand reasons hold me back.and Lady Percy.

I will resolve for Scotland : there am I, North. I pray thee, loving wife and gentle daughter, Till time and vantage crave my company. [Exeunt. Give even way unto my rough affairs :

SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Boar's Head Put not you on the visage of the times,

Tavern, in Eastcheap. And be like them to Percy troublesome.

Enter Two Drawers. Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more. Do what you will ; your wisdom be your guide. 1 Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there?

North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn, apple-Johns ? thou know'st sir John cannot endure an And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

apple-John. Lady P. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! 2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once The time was, father, that you broke your word, set a dish of apple-John's before him, and told him, When you were more endear'd to it than now; there were five more sir Johns; and, putting off his When your own Percy, when my heart-dear Harry, hat, said, “I will now take my leave of these six dry, Threw many a northward look, to see his father round, old, withered knights." It angered him to the Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. heart, but he hath forgot that. Who then persuaded you to stay at home ?

1 Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down : and There were two honours lost, yours, and your son's: see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise ; mistress TearFor yours,-may heavenly glory brighten it! sheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch :—the For his,-it stuck upon him, as the sun

room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in In the grey vault of heaven : and, by his light, straight. Did all the chivalry of England move

2 Draw. Sirrah, here will be the prince, and master To do brave acts, he was, indeed, the glass

Poins anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. and aprons, and sir John must not know of it: BarHe had no legs, that practised not his gait;

dolph hath brought word. And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, 1 Draw. By the mass, here will be old utis: it will Became the accents of the valiant;

be an excellent stratagem. For those that could speak low, and tardily,

2 Draw. I'll see, if I can find out Sneak. [Exit. Would turn their own perfection to abuse,

Enter Hostess and Doll TEAR-SHEET. To seem like him: so that, in speech, in gait,

Host. I'faith, sweet heart, methinks now, you are in In diet, in affections of delight,

an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as In military rules, humours of blood,

extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your colour, He was the mark and glass, copy and book,

I warrant you, is as red as any rose; but, j'faith, you That fashion'd others. And him,-0 wondrous bim! have drunk too much canaries, and that's a marvellous O miracle of men !-him did you leave,

searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can (Second to none, unseconded by you)

say, what's this? How do you now? To look upon the hideous god of war

Dol. Better than I was. Hem.

Host. Why, that's well said ; a good heart's worth i'faith ; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greygold. Lo! here comes sir John.

hound: he will not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her Enter Falstaff, singing.

feathers turn back in any show of resistance.- Call Fal. When Arthur first in court"-Empty the him up, drawer. jordan.—"And was a worthy king.” [Exit Drawer. Host. Cheater, call you him ? I will bar no bonest How now, mistress Doll?

man my house, nor no cheater; but I do not love Host. Sick of a calm : yea, good sooth.

swaggering : by my troth, I am the worse, when one Fal. So is all her sex; an they be once in a calm, says-swagger. Feel, masters, how I shake ; look you, they are sick.

I warrant you. Dol. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you Dol. So you do, hostess. give me?

Host. Do I? yea, in very truth do I, an 'twere an Fal. You make fat rascals, mistress Doll.

aspen leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers. Dol. I make them? gluttony and diseases make

Enter Pistol, BARDOLPH, and Page. them; I make them not.

Pist. God save you, sir John ! Fal. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you Fal. Welcome, ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon we catch of you; grant that, my pure virtue, grant mine hostess. that.

Pist. I will discharge upon her, sir John, with two Dol. Yea, joy; our chains, and our jewels. bullets.

Fal. “Your brooches, pearls, and owches :"-for to Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend serve bravely, is to come halting off, you know: to her. come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets. surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged cham- I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's bers bravely:

pleasure, I. Dol. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang your- Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy: I will charge self!

you. Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion : you two Dol. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. never meet, but you fall to some discord. You are What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen both, in good troth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What for your master. the good year! one must bear, and that must be you: Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy. you are the weaker vessel ; as they say, the emptier

Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal ! you filthy bung, vessel.

away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your Dol. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. full hogshead ? there's a whole merchant's venture of Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale Bourdeaux stuff in him : you have not seen a hulk juggler, you !-Since when, I pray you, sir ?-God's better stuffed in the hold.-Come, I'll be friends with light! with two points on your shoulder ? much! thee, Jack : thou art going to the wars; and whether Pist. I will murder your ruff for this. I shall ever see thee again, or no, there is nobody Fal. No more, Pistol : I would not have you go off

here. Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. Re-enter Drawer.

Host. No, good captain Pistol ; not here, sweet Draw. Sir, ancient Pistol's below, and would speak captain,

Dol. Captain ! thou abominable damned cheater, art Dol. Hang him, swaggering rascal ! let him not thou not ashamed to be called captain ? An captains come hither: it is the foul mouth'dst rogue in Eng- were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for land.

taking their names upon you before you have earned Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by them. You a captain, you slave! for what? for tearmy faith; I must live amongst my neighbours ; I'll no ing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house ?—He a capswaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the tain! Hang him, rogue! He lives upon mouldy very best.-Shut the door; there comes no swagger-stewed prunes, and dried cakes. A captain! these ers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swag- villains will make the word captain as odious as the gering now.-Shut the door, I pray you.

word occupy, which was an excellent good word Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess ?.

before it was ill sorted : therefore captains had need Host. Pray you, pacify yourself, sir John: there look to 't. comes no swaggerers here.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient,

Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Doll. Host. Tilly-valley, sir John, never tell me: your Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, corporal Bardolph ; I ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was could tear her.-- I'll be revenged of her. before master Tisick, the deputy, t'other day; and, as Page. Pray thee, go down. he said to me,,it was no longer ago than Wednesday Pist. I'll see her damned first;-to Pluto's damned last,—"Neighbour Quickly," says he ;-master Dumb, lake, by this hand, to the infernal deep, with Erebus our minister, was by then :-"Neighbour Quickly," and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. says he, “receive those that are civil; for," said he, Down? down, dogs ! down fates! Have we not Hiren

you are in an ill name:"-now, he said so, I can tell here? whereupon;“for," says he, "you are an honest woman, Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet; it is very late, and well thought on; therefore take heed what guests i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. you receive: "receive," says he, “no swaggering com- Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packpanions.”—There comes none here :-you would bless horses, you to hear what he said.—No, I'll no swaggerers. And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,

Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, which cannot go but thirty miles a day,


with you.


Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,

Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with wilt thou leave fighting o' days, and foining o' nights, King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar.

and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Shall we fall foul for toys ?

Enter behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised like Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter

Drawers. words.

Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's Bard. Begone, good ancient: this will grow to a head : do not bid me remember mine end. brawl anon.

Dol. Sirrah, what humour is the prince of? Pist. Die men, like dogs; give crowns like pins. Fal. A good shallow young fellow: he would have Have we not Hiren here?

made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread Host. On my word, captain, there's none such here. well. What the goodyear! do you think I would deny her? Dol. They say, Poins has a good wit. for God's sake, be quiet.

Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. as thick as Tewksbury mustard : there is no more conCome, give's some sack.

ceit in him, than is in a mallet. Se fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me contenta.

Dol. Why does the prince love him so, then? Fear we broadsides ? no, let the fiend give fire :

Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness; and Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there. he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel ;

[Laying down his sword. and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides Come we to full points here, and are et ceteras nothing? the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon jointFal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

stools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif.-What! we have boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and seen the seven stars.

breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories; and Dol. For God's sake, thrust him down stairs : I such other gambol faculties he has, that show a weak cannot endure such a fustian rascal.

mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits Pist. Thrust him down stairs ! know we not Galloway him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight nags?

of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his shilling: nay, an he do nothing but speak nothing, he ears cut off? shall be nothing here.

Poins. Let's beat him before his whore. Bard. Come, get you down stairs.

P. Hen. Look, whether the withered elder hath not Pist. What! shall we have incision ? shall we im- his poll clawed like a parrot. brue?

[Snatching up his sword. Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many Then, death, rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days ! years outlive performance ? Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Fal. Kiss me, Doll. Untwine the sisters three! Come, Atropos, I say! P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! Host. Here's goodly stuff toward !


says the almanack to that? Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.

Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, Dol. )

pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. be not clasping to his master's old tables, his note-book, Fal. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing. his counsel-keeper. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. house, afore I'll be in these territs and frights. So; Dol. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart. murder, I warrant now.--Alas, alas! put up your Fal. I am old, I am old. naked weapons; put up your naked weapons.

Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy (Exeunt BARDOLPH and Pistol. young boy of them all. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet: the rascal is gone.

Fai. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive Ah! you whoreson little valiant villain, you.

money on Thursday; thou shalt have a cap tomorrow. Host

. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought he A merry song! come: it grows late; we'll to bed. made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Thoul't forget me, when I am gone.
Re-enter BARDOLPH.

Dol. By my troth, thoul't set me a weeping, an thou Fal. Have you turned him out of doors ?

say'st so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till Bard. Yes, sir : the rascal's drunk. You have hurt thy return.--Well, hearken the end. him, sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. Some sack, Francis ! Fal. A rascal, to brave me !

P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing. Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's.-And art not ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face; thou Poins, his brother? -come on, you whoreson chops.--Ah, rogue ! i' faith, P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, a life dost thou lead. worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than Fal. A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou the nine worthies. Ah, villain!

art a drawer. Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a P. Hen. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out blanket.

by the ears. Dol. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.

troth, welcome to London.-Now, the Lord bless that Enter Music.

sweet face of thine! O Jesu! are you come from Page. The music is come, sir.

Wales ? Fal. Let them play.-Play, sirs.-Sit on my knee, Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome. me like quicksilver.

[Placing his hand upon Doll. Dol. I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Dol. How, you fat fool? I scorn you.

Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your re- P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,venge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the Dol. What says your grace ? heat.

Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely against.

[Knocking heard. did you speak of me even now, before this honest, Host. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the virtuous, civil gentlewoman.

door there, Francis. Host. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she

Enter Peto. is, by my troth.

P. Hen. Peto, how now! what news? Fal. Didst thou hear me?

Peto. The king your father is at Westminster, P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did, when And there are twenty weak and wearied posts you ran away by Gad's-hill: you knew, I was at your come from the north; and as I came along back, and spoke it on purpose to try my patience. I met, and overtook, a dozen captains,

Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, within hearing.

And asking every one for sir John Falstaff. P. Hen. I shall drive you, then, to confess the wilful P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to abuse; and then I know how to handle you.

blame, Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honour; no abuse. So idly to profane the precious time, P. Hen. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler, When tempest of commotion, like the south and bread-chipper, and I know not what?

Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt, Fal. No abuse, Hal.

And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Poins. No abuse !

Give me my sword, and cloak.-Falstaff, good night. Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none.

[Exeunt Prince Henry, Poins, Pero, and I disprais'd him before the wicked, that the wicked

BARDOLPH., might not fall in love with him :-in which doing, I Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, have done the part of a careful friend, and a true sub- and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. [Knocking ject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No heard.] More knocking at the door? abuse, Hal;none, Ned, none;-no, 'faith boys, none.

Re-enter BARDOLPH. P. Hen. See now, whether pure fear, and entire How now? what's the matter? cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous Bard. You must a way to court, sir, presently: gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the wicked ? A dozen captains stay at door for you. Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is thy boy of Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah. [To the Page.]the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns Farewell, hostess ;-farewell

, Doll. You see, my good in his nose, of the wicked ?

wenches, how men of merit are sought after: the undePoins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

server may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irreco- Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent away post, verably; and his face is Lucifer's privy kitchen, where I will see you again ere I go. he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy, Dol. I cannot speak;—if my heart be not ready to

-- there is a good angel about him, but the devil out- burst.-Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. bids him too.

Fal. Farewell, farewell. P. Hen. For the women?

[Exeunt Falstaff and BARDOLPH. Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these burns poor souls. For the other, I owe her money, twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester, and whether she be damned for that, I know not. and truer-hearted man,- Well, fare thee well. Host. No, I warrant you.

Bard. [Within.) Mistress Tear-sheet! Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art quit Host. What's the matter? for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come to for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to my master. the law; for the which, I think, thou wilt howl. Host. O! run, Doll, run; run, good Doll. Come.

Host. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton She comes blubbered.—Yea—will you come, Doll? or two in a whole Lent?



SCENE I.-A Room in the Palace.

Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,

Under high canopies of costly state, Enter King Henry in his Nightgown, with a Page.

And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody? K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of Warwick; 0, thou dull god! why liest thou with the vile, But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch, And well consider of them. Make good speed. A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell?

(Exit Page. Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast How many thousand of my poorest subjects

Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
Are at this hour asleep!-o sleep! O gentle sleep! In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, And in the visitation of the winds,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Apd steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, With deafʼning clamours in the slippery shrouds, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

That with the hurly death itself awakes ? And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Can'st thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose

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