(faies he) that takes vppon him not to conceiue the answer is as ready as a borowed cap: I am the kings poore cofin, fir.

Prince. Nay they will be kin to vs, or they will fetch it from Iaphet, but the letter, fir Iohn Falstaffe knight, to the fonne of the king, nearest his father, Harry prince of Wales, greeting.

Poynes. Why this is a certificate.

Prince. Peace.

I will imitate the honourable Romanes in breuitie.

Poynes. He fure meanes breuity in breath, short winded, I commend mee to thee, I commend thee, and, I leaue thee, be not too familiar with Poynes, for he mifufes thy fauours fo much, that he sweares thou art to mary his fifter Nel, repent at idle times as thou maift, and fo farwel.

Thine by yea, and no, which is as much as to fay, as thou vsest him, Iacke Falstaffe with my family, John with my brothers and fifters, and fir Iohn with all Europe.

Poynes. My lord, Ile fteep this letter in facke and make him 'eate it.

Prince. Thats to make him eate twenty of his words, but do you vfe me, thus Ned? muft I marrie your fifter? Poynes. God fend the wench no worfe fortune, but I neuer faid fo.

Prince. Wel, thus we play the fooles with the time, and the fpirits of the wife fit in the clowdes and mocke vs, is your mafter here in London?

Bard. Yea my lord.

Prince. Where fups he doth the old boare feede in the old franke?

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eaftcheape.

Prince. What companie?

Boy. Ephefians, my lord, of the old church.

Prince. Sup any women with him?

Boy.

Boy. None my lord, but old miftris Quickly, and miftris Dol Tere-fbeet.

Prince. What Pagan may that be?

Boy. A proper gentlewoman fir, and a kinfwoman of my

mafters.

Prince. Euen fuch kinne as the parish heicfors are to the towne bull, fhall we steale vpon them Ned at fupper?

Poynes. I am your fhadow my lord, Ile follow you. Prince. Sirra, you boy and Bardolfe, no worde to your mafter that I am yet come to towne; theres for your filence. Bar. I haue no tongue fir.

Boy. And for mine fir, I will gouerne it.

Prince. Fare you well: go, this Doil Tere Sheete fhould be fome rode.

Poyns. I warrant you, as common as the way between S. Albons and London.

Prince. How might we fee Falstaffe bestow himself to night in his true colours, and not our felues be seene?

Poynes. Put on two letherne ierkins and aprons, and waite vpon him at his table as drawers.

Prince. From a god to a bul, a heauy defcenfion, it was Joues cafe, from a prince to a prentise, a low transformation, that shal be mine, for in euery thing the purpose must weigh with the folly, follow me Ned. Exeunt.

Enter Northumberland his wife, and the wife to Harry Percie.

North. I pray thee louing wife and gentle daughter,

Giue euen way vnto my rough affaires,

Put not you on the vifage of the times,

And be like them to Percy troublesome.

Wife. I haue giuen ouer, I will speake no more, Do what you wil, your wifedome be your guide. North. Alas fweete wife, my honour is at pawne, And but my going, nothing can redeeme it.

Kate.

Kate. O yet for Gods fake, go not to these wars,
The time was father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endeere to it then now,

When your owne Percie, when my hearts deere Harry,
Threw many a northward looke, to fee his father,
Bring vp his powers, but he did long in vaine.
Who then perfwaded you to ftay at home?
There were two honors loft, yours, and your fonnes,
For yours, the God of heauen brighten it,

For his, it stucke vpon him as the funne
In the grey vault of heauen, and by his light
Did all the cheualry of England moue

To do braue acts, he was indeede the glaffe
Wherein the noble youth did dresse themselues.
North. Befhrew your heart,

Faire daughter, you do draw my fpirites from me,
With new lamenting ancient ouerfights,

But I must go and meete with danger there,
Or it will feeke me in another place,

And find me worse prouided.

Wife. O flie to Scotland,

Till that the nobles and the armed commons,
Haue of their puiffance made a little taste.

Kate. If they get ground and vantage of the king,
Then ioyne you with them like a ribbe of steele,
To make strength stronger: but for al our loues,
First let them trie themfelues, fo did your fonne,
He was fo fuffred, fo came I a widow,
And neuer shall haue length of life enough,
To raine vpon remembrance with mine eies,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heauen,

For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me, tis with my mind, As with the tide, fweld vp vnto his height,

That

That makes a ftil ftand, running neither way,
Faine would I go to meete the archbishop,
But many thousand reafons hold me backe,
I will refolue for Scotland, there am I,
Till time and vantage craue my company.

Enter a drawer or two.

Exeunt.

Francis. What the diuel haft thou brought there apple Johns? thou knoweft fir lohn cannot indure an apple Ichn.

Draw Mas thou faift true, the prince once fet a difh of apple Johns before him, and told him there were fiue more fir Johns, and putting off his hat, faid, I will now take my leaue of these fix drie, round, old, withered knights, it angred him to the heart, but he hath forgot that.

Fran. Why then couer and fet them downe, and fee if thou canft find out Sneakes noise, miftris Tere-fheet would faine heare fome mufique.

Dra. Dispatch, the roome where they fupt is too hot, theile come in straight.

Francis. Sirra, here wil be the prince and mafter Poynes anon, and they will put on two of our ierkins and aprons, and fir John muft not know of it, Bardolfe hath brought word.

Enter Will.

Dra. By the mas here will be old vtis, it wil be an excellent ftratagem.

Francis. Ile fee if I can find out Sneake.

Enter miftris Quickly, and Doll Tere-sheet.

Exit.

Quickly. Yfaith fweet heart, me thinkes now you are in an excellent good temperalitie. Your pulfidge beates as extraordinarily as heart would defire, and your colour I warrant you is as red as any rofe, in good truth law: but yfaith you haue

drunke

drunke too much cannaries, and thats a maruelous fearching wine, and it perfumes the bloud ere one can fay, whats this, how do you now?

Tere. Better then I was: hem.

Qui. Why thats well faid, a good heart's worth gold: loc here comes fir John.

Enter fir Iohn.

Sir John. When Arthur first in court, empty the iourdan and was a worthy king: how now miftris Doll?

Hoft. Sicke of a calme, yea and good faith.

Falt. So is all her fect, and they be once in a calme they are ficke.

Tere. A pox damne you, you muddie rafcall, is that all the comfort you giue me?

Falft. You make fat rafcals miftris Dol.

Tere. I make them? gluttonie, and diseases make, I make

them not.

Falt. If the cooke help to make the gluttonie, you helpe to make the diseases Doll, we catch of you Doll, we catch of you graunt that my poore vertue, grant that.

Doll. Yea ioy, our chaines and our iewels.

Fa. Your brooches, pearles, and ouches for to ferue brauely, is to come halting off, you know to come off the breach, with his pike bent brauely, and to furgerie brauely, to venture vpon the chargde chambers brauely.

Doll. Hang your felfe, you muddie cunger, hang your felfe.

Hoft. By my troth this is the old fashion, you two neuer meet but you fall to fome difcord, you are both ygood truth as rewmatique as two dry tofts, you cannot one beare with anothers cöfirmities, what the goodyere one must beare, and that must be you, you are the weaker veffell, as they fay, the emptier veffel.

Dorothy.