Enter BARDOlph.

Band. What news?

your house. He could be contented, -Why is he not then? In respect of the love, he bears our house:

Gads. Case ye, case ye! On with your visors! there's he shows in this, he loves his own barn better, than he

money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's exchequer.

Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the king's

tavern.

Gads. There's enough to make us all.
Fal. To be hanged.

P. Hen. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow
lane;
Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape
from your encounter, then they light on us.
Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight or ten.

Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?

P. Hen. What, a coward, sir John Paunch? Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your father; but yet no coward, Hal.

loves our house. Let me see some more! The purpose you undertake, is dangerous;—Why, that's certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink : but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoise of so great an opposition.-Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this? By the Lord, our plot is as good a plot, as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: an excelgrand-lent plot, very good friends. What a frosty spirited rogue is this? Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, beside, the Douglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are they not, some of them, set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this? an infidel? Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: We are prepared: I will set forward to-night.

P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof.
Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the
hedge; when thou needest him, there thou shalt find
him. Farewell, and stand fast!

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.
P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins. Here, hard by; stand close!

[Exeunt P. Henry and Poins. Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business!

Enter Travellers.

1 Trav. Come, neighbour! the boy shall lead our horses down the hill; we'll walk afoot a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand!

Trav. Jesu bless us !

Fal. Strike! down with them! cut the villains' throats! Ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them! fleece them! 1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for ever. Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves! Are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs! I would, your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves? young men must live: you are grand-jurors, are ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith. [Exeunt Falstaff,etc. driving the Travel

lers out.

Re-enter Prince HENRY and Poins. P. Hen. The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming. Re-enter Thieves.

Fal. Come, ny masters, let us share, and then to horse before day! Anthe prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild duck. P. Hen. Your money! [Rushing out upon them.

Poins. Villains!

[As they are sharing, the prince and
Poins set upon them. Falstaff, after a
blow or two, and the rest, run away,
leaving their booty behind them.]

P. Hen. Got with much ease! Now merrily to horse!
The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear
So strongly, that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned! Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth, as he walks along:
Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd!
SCENE III. - Warkworth. A room in the castle.
Enter HOTSPUR, reading a letter.

[Exeunt.

- But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love, I bear

Enter Lady PERCY.

How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two
hours.

Lady. O my good lord, why are youthus alone?
For what offence have I, this fortnight, been
A banished woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't, that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often, when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks,
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry, Courage!-to the field! And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies, and retires, of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransome, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestir'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see, when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are
these?

Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Enter Servant.
Sev. He is, my lord, an hour ago.

Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the she

riff?

Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot. What horse? aroan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv. It is, my lord.

P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door. Shall we be merry?

Poins. As merry, as crickets, my lad. But hark ye! What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue?

P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that have shewed themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter Francis, with wine.] What's o'clock, Francis?

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Hen. What a hundred, man?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four, through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man : all would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of darkness.

P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer
words, than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman!
His industry is upstairs, and downstairs; his elo-P. Hen. Speak, sirs! how was it?
quence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Gads. We four set upon some dozen, -
Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he, that kills Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord.
me some six, or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, Gads. And bound them.
washes his hands, and says to his wife, Fye upon
this quiet life! I want work. Omy sweet Harry, says
she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my
roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, Some four-|
teen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr'ythee, call
in Falstaff! I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn
shall play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, says the
drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow !

Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO.
Poins. Welcome, Jack! Where hast thou been?
Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance
too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy!-
Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and
mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all
cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue.-Is there no
virtue extant?
[He drinks.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound. Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us,

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of them. Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of but-rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal,—if I tell ter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse! Thou knowtale of the son? If thou didst, then behold that com- est my old ward; here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me,pound! P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st but two, even now. Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man; yet a coward is worse, than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward. Go thy ways, old Jack! die, when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old. God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would, I were a weaver; I could sing psalms, or any thing. A plague of all cowards! I say still.

P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee, like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales! P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man!, what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there?

Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward,

I'll stab thee.

Ful. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned, ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast, as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not, who sees your back. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them, that will face me! Give me a cup of sack!-I am a rogue,if I drunk to-day. P.Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped, since thou drunk'st last.

Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. [He drinks.

P. Hen. What's the matter?. Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here have ta'en thousand pound this morning.

Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus.

P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now.
Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits.

Pal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
P.Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more

Fal. Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, came in foot and hand, and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father, that begets them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-keech,Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth?

P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark, thou could'st not

see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason! What sayest he would swear truth out of England, but he would thon to this? make you believe, it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like.

Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason! Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass, strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our gartell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compul-ments with it, and to swear, it was the blood of true sion! if reasons were as plenty, as blackberries, I would men. I did that I did not this seven years before, I give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. blushed to hear his monstrous devices.

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin, this san- P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen guine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever breaker, this huge hill of flesh

Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish!-0, for breath to utter, what is like thee! - you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck! P. Hen. Well, breath awhile, and then to it again! and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this!

Poins. Mark, Jack!

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how plain a tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and with a word out-faced you from your prize, and have it, "yea, and can show it you here in the house:- and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with a quick dexterity, and roar- I ed for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword, as thou hast done, and then say, it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack! What trick hast thou now?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he, that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters! Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant, as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad, you have the money. Hostess, clap to the doors, watch to-night, pray to-morrow! Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? P. Hen. Content! and the argument shall be thy running away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!
Enter Hostess.

Host. My lord the prince,-
P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what say'st
thou to me?

Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you: he says he comes from your father.

P. Hen. Give him as much, as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother! Fal. What manner of man is he?

Host. An old man.

since thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; what instinct hadst thou for it?

Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you
behold these exhalations?
P. Hen. I do.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.
Re-enter FALSTAFF.

Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How
now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long is't ago,
Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal,
was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have
crept into any alderman's thumb-ring. A plague of
sighing and grief! it blows a man up, like a bladder.'
There's villainous news abroad: here was sir John
Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the
morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy,
and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado,
and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his
true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook,
What, a plague, call you him?
Poins. O, Glendower.

Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; and his son-inlaw, Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horseback up a hill perpendicular.

P. Hen. He, that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying.

Fal. You have hit it.

P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.

P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running?

Fal. O'horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct.

Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more. Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap, as stinking mackarel.

P.Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads, as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like, we shall have good trading that way. But, tell me,

Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir-Shall I give him his answer?

P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack!

Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. [Exit. P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r-lady, you fought fair; so did you, Peto; - so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true prince; no,fye!

Bard. 'Faith, I ran, when I saw others run.

P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's sword so hacked?

apparent, could the world pick thee ont three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it?

P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy instinct.

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father. If thou love me, practise an answer!

P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me

Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, upon the particulars of my life!

Fal. Shall I? content: this chair shall be my mours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Man

crown.

P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy gol-ningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that den sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father rufcrown for a pitiful bald crown! fian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack ad drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villainy? wherein villainous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of
thee, now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of
sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be
thought, I have wept ; for I must speak in passion, and
I will do it in king Cambyses' vein.
P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.

Fal. And here is my speech.- Stand aside, nobility!
Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith.

Fal. Weep not, sweet queen! for trickling tears are

vain.

Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance!
Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen,
For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry
players, as I ever see.

I

Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you.
Whom means your grace?

P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of
youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
Fal. My lord, the man I know.
P. Hen. I know, thou dost,

Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him, than in myself, were to say more, than I know. That he is old, (the more the pity,) his white hairs do witness it: but that he is (saving your reverence,) a whoremaster, that utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host, that I know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, ba

Fal. Peace, good pint-pot! peace, good tickle-brain! -Harry, I do not only marvel, where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied; for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly nish Poins! but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falthy mother's word,partly my own opinion;but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point: - Why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked! Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked! There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest; for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears, not in pleasure, but in passion, . not in words only, but in woes also. And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his

name.

P.Hen.What manner of man,an it like your majesty? Fal. A good portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent, of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage, and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish! And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?

P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father.

Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so
majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by
the heels for a rabbit-sucker, or a poulter's hare!
P. Hen. Well, here I am set.

Fal. And here I stand. - Iudge, my masters.
P. Hen. Now, Harry? whence come you?
Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.

P. Hen. The complaints, I hear of thee, are grievous. Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith.

staff,true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and there-
fore more valiant, being as he is,old JackFalstaff, banish
not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Har-
ry's company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the
world!
P Hen. I do, I will.
[4 knocking heard.
[Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph.
Re-enter BARDOLPH, running.
Bard. O, my lord, my lord, the sheriff, with a most
monstrous watch, is at the door.
Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play! I have much
to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.
Re-enter Hostess, hastily.
Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick.
What's the matter?

Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door; they are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit! thou art essentially mad, without seeming so.

P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, so; if not, let him enter! if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras! the rest walk up above! Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience.

I

Fal. Both which I have had : but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me.

[Exeunt all but the Prince and Poins. P. Hen. Call in the sheriff!

Enter Sheriff and Carrier.

Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me?
Sher. First, pardon me, my lord! A hue and cry
Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
P. Hen. What men?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord:
A gross fat man.

Car. As fat as butter.

P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me! Thou art violently carried P. Hen. The man, I do assure you, is not here; away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the For I myself at this time have employ'd him. likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy compa- And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee, nion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of hu- That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,