SHAKESPEARE ON DISK. THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH. ACT III. SCENE I. [Bangor. Glendower's castle.] [Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER.] EDMUND MORTIMER. These promises are fair, the parties sure, 3/1/1 And our induction full of prosperous hope. HOTSPUR. Lord Mortimer,- and cousin Glendower,- Will you sit down?- And uncle Worcester:- a plague upon it! I have forgot the map. OWEN GLENDOWER. No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy;- sit, good cousin Hotspur. For by that name as oft as Lancaster Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale, and with A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. 3/1/10 HOTSPUR. And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. OWEN GLENDOWER.. I cannot blame him: at my nativity The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets; and at my birth The frame and huge foundation of the earth Shaked like a coward. HOTSPUR. Why, so it would have done at the same season, if your mother's cat had but kitten'd, though yourself had never been born. OWEN GLENDOWER. I say the earth did shake when I was born. 3/1/20 HOTSPUR. And I say the earth was not of my mind, If you suppose as fearing you it shook. OWEN GLENDOWER. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. HOTSPUR. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd By the imprisoning of unruly wind Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, 3/1/30 Shakes the old beldam earth, and topples down Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, In passion shook. OWEN GLENDOWER. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave To tell you once again, that at my birth The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes; The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. 3/1/40 These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; And all the courses of my life do show I am not in the roll of common men. Where is he living,- clipp'd in with the sea That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,- Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? And bring him out that is but woman's son Can trace me in the tedious ways of art, And hold me pace in deep experiments. HOTSPUR. I think there is no man speaks better Welsh.- I'll to 3/1/50 dinner. EDMUND MORTIMER. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. OWEN GLENDOWER. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. HOTSPUR. Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come when you do call for them? OWEN GLENDOWER. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command The devil. HOTSPUR. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil By telling truth: tell truth, and shame the devil.- If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, 3/1/60 And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil! EDMUND MORTIMER. Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. OWEN GLENDOWER. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him Bootless home and weather-beaten back. HOTSPUR. Home without boots, and in foul weather too! How scapes he agues, in the devil's name? OWEN GLENDOWER. Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right 3/1/70 According to our threefold order ta'en? EDMUND MORTIMER. The archdeacon hath divided it Into three limits very equally:- England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, By south and east is to my part assign'd: All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, And all the fertile land within that bound, To Owen Glendower:- and, dear coz, to you The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. And our indentures tripartite are drawn; 3/1/80 Which being sealed interchangeably,- A business that this night may execute,- To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I, And my good Lord of Worcester, will set forth To meet your father and the Scottish power, As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. My father Glendower is not ready yet, Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days:- [to GLENDOWER.] Within that space you may have drawn together Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. 3/1/90 OWEN GLENDOWER. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: And in my conduct shall your ladies come; From whom you now must steal, and take no leave, For there will be a world of water shed Upon the parting of your wives and you. HOTSPUR. Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours: See how this river comes me cranking in, And cuts me from the best of all my land A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. 3/1/100 I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; And here the smug and silver Trent shall run In a new channel, fair and evenly: It shall not wind with such a deep indent, To rob me of so rich a bottom here. OWEN GLENDOWER. Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. EDMUND MORTIMER. Yea, but Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up With like advantage on the other side; Gelding the opposed continent as much 3/1/110 As on the other side it takes from you. EARL OF WORCESTER. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here, And on this north side win this cape of land; And then he runs straight and even. HOTSPUR. I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. OWEN GLENDOWER. I'll not have it alter'd. HOTSPUR. Will not you? OWEN GLENDOWER. No, nor you shall not. HOTSPUR. Who shall say me nay? OWEN GLENDOWER. Why, that will I. HOTSPUR. Let me not understand you, then; Speak it in Welsh. OWEN GLENDOWER. I can speak English, lord, as well as you; 3/1/120 For I was train'd up in the English court; Where, being but young, I framed to the harp Many an English ditty lovely well, And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,- A virtue that was never seen in you. HOTSPUR. Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart: I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers; I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree; 3/1/130 And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry:- 'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. OWEN GLENDOWER. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. HOTSPUR. I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land To any well-deserving friend; But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? OWEN GLENDOWER. The moon shines fair; you may away by night: 3/1/140 I'll in and haste the writer, and withal Break with your wives of your departure hence: I am afraid my daughter will run mad, So much she doteth on her Mortimer. [Exit.] EDMUND MORTIMER. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! HOTSPUR. I cannot choose: sometime he angers me With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant, Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, And of a dragon and a finless fish, A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, 3/1/150 A couching lion and a ramping cat, And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,- He held me last night at least nine hours In reckoning up the several devils' names That were his lackeys: I cried "hum," and "well, go to," But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious As a tired horse, a railing wife; Worse than a smoky house:- I had rather live With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, 3/1/160 Than feed on cates and have him talk to me In any summer-house in Christendom. EDMUND MORTIMER. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; Exceedingly well-read, and profited In strange concealments; valiant as a lion, And wondrous affable, and as bountiful As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? He holds your temper in a high respect, And curbs himself even of his natural scope When you do cross his humour; faith, he does: 3/1/170 I warrant you, that man is not alive Might so have tempted him as you have done, Without the taste of danger and reproof: But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. EARL OF WORCESTER. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; And since your coming hither have done enough To put him quite beside his patience. You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,- And that's the dearest grace it renders you,- 3/1/180 Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, Defect of manners, want of government, Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain: The least of which haunting a nobleman Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain Upon the beauty of all parts besides, Beguiling them of commendation. HOTSPUR. Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. [Enter GLENDOWER, with the LADIES.] EDMUND MORTIMER. This is the deadly spite that angers me,- 3/1/190 My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. OWEN GLENDOWER. My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. EDMUND MORTIMER. Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduct speedily. [GLENDOWER speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same.] OWEN GLENDOWER. She is desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry, one that no persuasion can do good upon. [The LADY speaks in Welsh.] EDMUND MORTIMER. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, 3/1/200 In such a parley should I answer thee. [The LADY speaks again in Welsh.] I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation: But I will never be a truant, love, Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division, to her lute. OWEN GLENDOWER. Nay, if you melt, then will she run quite mad. [The LADY speaks again in Welsh.] EDMUND MORTIMER. O, I am ignorance itself in this! 3/1/210 OWEN GLENDOWER. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down, And rest your gentle head upon her lap, And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep, Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness; Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep, As is the difference betwixt day and night, The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east. EDMUND MORTIMER. With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: 3/1/220 By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. OWEN GLENDOWER. Do so; And those musicians that shall play to you Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence; And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. HOTSPUR. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. LADY PERCY. Go, ye giddy goose. [The music plays.] HOTSPUR. Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. 3/1/230 By'r lady, he is a good musician. LADY PERCY. Then should you be nothing but musical; for you are altogether govern'd by humours. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. HOTSPUR. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. LADY PERCY. Wouldst thou have thy head broken? HOTSPUR. No. LADY PERCY. Then be still. HOTSPUR. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. LADY PERCY. Now God help thee! 3/1/240 HOTSPUR. To the Welsh lady's bed. LADY PERCY. What's that? HOTSPUR. Peace! she sings. [Here the LADY sings a Welsh song.] Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. LADY PERCY. Not mine, in good sooth. HOTSPUR. Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a comfit-maker's wife. "Not you, in good sooth;" and "as true as I live;" and "as God shall mend me;" and "as sure as day;" And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, 3/1/250 As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, A good mouth-filling oath; and leave "in sooth," And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. Come, sing. LADY PERCY. I will not sing. HOTSPUR. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. [Exit.] 3/1/260 OWEN GLENDOWER. Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, and then To horse immediately. EDMUND MORTIMER. With all my heart. [Exeunt.] SCENE II. [London. The Palace.] [Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, and LORDS.] KING HENRY. Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I 3/2/1 Must have some private conference: but be near at hand, For we shall presently have need of you. [Exeunt LORDS.] I know not whether God will have it so, For some displeasing service I have done, That, in his secret doom, out of my blood He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; But thou dost, in thy passages of life, Make me believe that thou art only mark'd For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven 3/2/10 To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, Could such inordinate and low desires, Such poor, such base, such lewd, such mean attempts, Such barren pleasures, rude society, As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, Accompany the greatness of thy blood, And hold their level with thy princely heart? PRINCE HENRY. So please your majesty, I would I could Quit all offences with as clear excuse As well as I am doubtless I can purge 3/2/20 Myself of many I am charged withal. Yet such extenuation let me beg, As, in reproof of many tales devised,- Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,- By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, I may, for some things true, wherein my youth Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, Find pardon on my true submission. KING HENRY. God pardon thee!- yet let me wonder, Harry, At thy affections, which do hold a wing 3/2/30 Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, Which by thy younger brother is supplied; And art almost an alien to the hearts Of all the court and princes of my blood: The hope and expectation of thy time Is ruin'd; and the soul of every man Prophetically do forethink thy fall. Had I so lavish of my presence been, So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, 3/2/40 So stale and cheap to vulgar company,- Opinion, that did help me to the crown, Had still kept loyal to possession, And left me in reputeless banishment, A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. By being seldom seen, I could not stir But, like a comet, I was wonder'd at; That men would tell their children, "This is he;" Others would say, "Where, which is Bolingbroke?" And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, 3/2/50 And dress'd myself in such humility That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, Even in the presence of the crowned king. Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; My presence, like a robe pontifical, Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, Seldom but sumptuous, show'd like a feast, And won by rareness such solemnity. The skipping king, he ambled up and down 3/2/60 With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state; Mingled his royalty with capering fools; Had his great name profaned with their scorns; And gave his countenance, against his name, To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push Of every beardless vain comparative; Grew a companion to the common streets, Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, 3/2/70 They surfeited with honey, and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded,- seen, but with such eyes As, sick and blunted with community, Afford no extraordinary gaze, Such as is bent on sun-like majesty When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; 3/2/80 But rather drowzed, and hung their eyelids down, Slept in his face and render'd such aspect As cloudy men use to their adversaries, Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full. And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou; For thou hast lost thy princely privilege With vile participation: not an eye But is a-weary of thy common sight, Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; Which now doth that I would not have it do,- 3/2/90 Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. PRINCE HENRY. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord, Be more myself. KING HENRY. For all the world, As thou art to this hour, was Richard then When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg; And even as I was then is Percy now. Now, by my sceptre, and my soul to boot, He hath more worthy interest to the state Than thou, the shadow of succession; 3/2/100 For, of no right, nor colour like to right, He doth fill fields with harness in the realm; Turns head against the lion's armed jaws; And, being no more in debt to years than thou, Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on To bloody battles and to bruising arms. What never-dying honour hath he got Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, Whose hot incursions, and great name in arms, Holds from all soldiers chief majority 3/2/110 And military title capital Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, This infant warrior, in his enterprises Discomfited great Douglas: ta'en him once, Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, To fill the mouth of deep defiance up, And shake the peace and safety of our throne. And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, The Archbishop's Grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, 3/2/120 Capitulate against us, and are up. But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? Thou that art like enough,- through vassal fear, Base inclination, and the start of spleen,- To fight against me under Percy's pay, To dog his heels, and court'sy at his frowns, To show how much thou art degenerate. PRINCE HENRY. Do not think so; you shall not find it so: 3/2/130 And God forgive them that so much have sway'd Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! I will redeem all this on Percy's head, And, in the closing of some glorious day, Be bold to tell you that I am your son; When I will wear a garment all of blood, And stain my favours in a bloody mask, Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, That this same child of honour and renown, 3/2/140 This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet. For every honour sitting on his helm, Would they were multitudes, and on my head My shames redoubled! for the time will come, That I shall make this northern youth exchange His glorious deeds for my indignities. Percy is but my factor, good my lord, To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; And I will call him to so strict account, 3/2/150 That he shall render every glory up, Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. This, in the name of God, I promise here: The which if He be pleased I shall perform, I do beseech your majesty, may salve The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: If not, the end of life cancels all bands; And I will die a hundred thousand deaths Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. 3/2/160 KING HENRY. A hundred thousand rebels die in this:- Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. [Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT]. How now, good Blunt! thy looks are full of speed. SIR WALTER BLUNT. So hath the business that I come to speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word That Douglas and the English rebels met The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury: A mighty and a fearful head they are, If promises be kept on every hand, As ever offer'd foul play in a state. 3/2/170 KING HENRY. The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster For this advertisement is five days old:- On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; On Thursday we ourselves will march: Our meeting is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you Shall march through Glostershire; by which account, Our business valued, some twelve days hence Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. Our hands are full of business: let's away; 3/2/180 Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. [Exeunt.] SCENE III. [Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.] [Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.] SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Bardolph, am I not fall'n away vilely since this last 3/3/1 action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am wither'd like an old apple-john. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a church! Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me. BARDOLPH. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. 3/3/10 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Why, there is it:- come, sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter- of an hour; paid money that I borrow'd- three or four times; lived well, and in good compass: and now I live out of all order, out of all compass. BARDOLPH. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass,- out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: thou art our 3/3/20 admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop,- but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp. BARDOLPH. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a death's-head or a `memento mori': I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be, "By this fire, that's God's angel:" but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for 3/3/30 the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou ran'st up Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an `ignis fatuus' or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintain'd that salamander of yours with fire any time this two-and- 3/3/40 thirty years; God reward me for it! BARDOLPH. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly! SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burn'd. [Enter HOSTESS.] How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired yet who pick'd my pocket? HOSTESS. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have search'd, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before. 3/3/50 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved, and lost many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was pick'd. Go to, you are a woman, go. HOSTESS. Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was never call'd so in mine own house before. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Go to, I know you well enough. HOSTESS. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. 3/3/60 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them. HOSTESS. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. He had his part of it; let him pay. HOSTESS. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks: I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not 3/3/70 take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark. HOSTESS. O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper! SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup: 'sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so. [Enter the PRINCE and POINS marching, and FALSTAFF meets them, playing on his truncheon like a fife.] How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith? must we all march? BARDOLPH. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion. 3/3/80 HOSTESS. My lord, I pray you, hear me. PRINCE HENRY. What say'st thou, Mistress Quickly! How doth thy husband? I love him well; he is an honest man. HOSTESS. Good my lord, hear me. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Prithee, let her alone, and list to me. PRINCE HENRY. What say'st thou, Jack? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket pick'd: this house is turn'd bawdy-house; they pick pockets. PRINCE HENRY. What didst thou lose, Jack? 3/3/90 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's. PRINCE HENRY. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. HOSTESS. So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your Grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul- mouth'd man as he is; and said he would cudgel you. PRINCE HENRY. What! he did not? HOSTESS. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, 3/3/100 Maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go. HOSTESS. Say, what thing? what thing? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. What thing! why, a thing to thank God on. HOSTESS. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. HOSTESS. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou? 3/3/110 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. What beast! why, an otter. PRINCE HENRY. An otter, Sir John! why an otter? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her. HOSTESS. Thou art an unjust man in saying so: thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou! PRINCE HENRY. Thou say'st true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly. HOSTESS. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you ought him a thousand pound. 3/3/120 PRINCE HENRY. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. A thousand pound, Hal! a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love. HOSTESS. Nay, my lord, he call'd you Jack, and said he would cudgel you. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Did I, Bardolph? BARDOLPH. Indeed, Sir John, you said so. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Yea,- if he said my ring was copper. PRINCE HENRY. I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Why, Hal, thou know'st, as thou art but man, I dare; but as 3/3/130 thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. PRINCE HENRY. And why not as the lion? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. The king himself is to be fear'd as the lion: dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break. PRINCE HENRY. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine,- it is all fill'd up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! 3/3/140 why, thou whoreson, impudent, emboss'd rascal, if there were anything in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee long-winded,- if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, I am a villain: and yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket-up wrong: art thou not ashamed? SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou know'st in the state of innocency Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man; 3/3/150 and therefore more frailty. You confess, then, you pick'd my pocket? PRINCE HENRY. It appears so by the story. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Hostess, I forgive thee: go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason; thou seest I am pacified still.- Nay, prithee, be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,- how is that answer'd? PRINCE HENRY. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee:- the 3/3/160 money is paid back again. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour. PRINCE HENRY. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do it with unwash'd hands too. BARDOLPH. Do, my lord. PRINCE HENRY. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief, of the age of two-and- twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God 3/3/170 be thank'd for these rebels,- they offend none but the virtuous: I laud them, I praise them. PRINCE HENRY. Bardolph,- BARDOLPH. My lord? PRINCE HENRY. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland. [Exit BARDOLPH.] Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner-time. [Exit POINS.] Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-hall at two o'clock in the afternoon: 3/3/180 There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive Money and order for their furniture. The land is burning; Percy stands on high; And either we or they must lower lie. [Exit.] SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. Rare words! brave world!- Hostess, my breakfast; come:- O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! [Exit.] ACT III. END.