The First part of King Henry the Fourth

Contents2024 Feb 20  13:01:29

 
Act 1Scene 1London. The palace.
Scene 2London. An apartment of the Prince's.
Scene 3London. The palace.
 
Act 2Scene 1Rochester. An inn yard.
Scene 2The highway, near Gadshill.
Scene 3Warkworth castle
Scene 4The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.
 
Act 3Scene 1Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.
Scene 2London. The palace.
Scene 3Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.
 
Act 4Scene 1The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene 2A public road near Coventry.
Scene 3The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene 4York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace.
 
Act 5Scene 1KING HENRY IV's camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene 2The rebel camp.
Scene 3Plain between the camps.
Scene 4Another part of the field.
Scene 5Another part of the field.
 
Finis
 
Contents

Act 1

Scene 1

London. The palace.

Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others
1.1.1 KING HENRY IV
So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in strands afar remote.
No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;
Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way and be no more opposed
Against acquaintance, kindred and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight,
Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
To chase these pagans in those holy fields
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
For our advantage on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose now is twelve month old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree
In forwarding this dear expedience.
1.1.34 WESTMORELAND
My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight: when all athwart there came
A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
A thousand of his people butchered;
Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
Such beastly shameless transformation,
By those Welshwomen done as may not be
Without much shame retold or spoken of.
1.1.47 KING HENRY IV
It seems then that the tidings of this broil
Brake off our business for the Holy Land.
1.1.49 WESTMORELAND
This match'd with other did, my gracious lord;
For more uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north and thus it did import:
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met,
Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,
As by discharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.
1.1.62 KING HENRY IV
Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.
Stain'd with the variation of each soil
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:
Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see
On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son
To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith:
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
1.1.76 WESTMORELAND
In faith,
It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
1.1.78 KING HENRY IV
Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin
In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father to so blest a son,
A son who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,
Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surprised,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.
1.1.96 WESTMORELAND
This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all aspects;
Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.
1.1.100 KING HENRY IV
But I have sent for him to answer this;
And for this cause awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said and to be done
Than out of anger can be uttered.
1.1.108 WESTMORELAND
I will, my liege.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 1

Scene 2

London. An apartment of the Prince's.

Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF
1.2.1 FALSTAFF
Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
1.2.2 PRINCE HENRY
Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack
and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon
benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to
demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know.
What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the
day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes
capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the
signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself
a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no
reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand
the time of the day.
1.2.13 FALSTAFF
Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take
purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not
by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,
I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God
save thy grace, – majesty I should say, for grace
thou wilt have none, –
1.2.19 PRINCE HENRY
What, none?
1.2.20 FALSTAFF
No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to
prologue to an egg and butter.
1.2.22 PRINCE HENRY
Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.
1.2.23 FALSTAFF
Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not
us that are squires of the night's body be called
thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's
foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the
moon; and let men say we be men of good government,
being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and
chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
1.2.30 PRINCE HENRY
Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the
fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and
flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is,
by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold
most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most
dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with
swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;'
now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder
and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
1.2.39 FALSTAFF
By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my
hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
1.2.41 PRINCE HENRY
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And
is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
1.2.43 FALSTAFF
How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and
thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a
buff jerkin?
1.2.46 PRINCE HENRY
Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
1.2.47 FALSTAFF
Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a
time and oft.
1.2.49 PRINCE HENRY
Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
1.2.50 FALSTAFF
No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
1.2.51 PRINCE HENRY
Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;
and where it would not, I have used my credit.
1.2.53 FALSTAFF
Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent
that thou art heir apparent – But, I prithee, sweet
wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when
thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is
with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do
not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
1.2.59 PRINCE HENRY
No; thou shalt.
1.2.60 FALSTAFF
Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
1.2.61 PRINCE HENRY
Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have
the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.
1.2.63 FALSTAFF
Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my
humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell
you.
1.2.66 PRINCE HENRY
For obtaining of suits?
1.2.67 FALSTAFF
Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman
hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy
as a gib cat or a lugged bear.
1.2.70 PRINCE HENRY
Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
1.2.71 FALSTAFF
Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
1.2.72 PRINCE HENRY
What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of
Moor-ditch?
1.2.74 FALSTAFF
Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed
the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young
prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more
with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a
commodity of good names were to be bought. An old
lord of the council rated me the other day in the
street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet
he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and
yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
1.2.83 PRINCE HENRY
Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the
streets, and no man regards it.
1.2.85 FALSTAFF
O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able
to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon
me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew
thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man
should speak truly, little better than one of the
wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give
it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:
I'll be damned for never a king's son in
Christendom.
1.2.94 PRINCE HENRY
Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
1.2.95 FALSTAFF
'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I
do not, call me villain and baffle me.
1.2.97 PRINCE HENRY
I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying
to purse-taking.
1.2.99 FALSTAFF
Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a
man to labour in his vocation.
Enter POINS
Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what
hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the
most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to
a true man.
1.2.106 PRINCE HENRY
Good morrow, Ned.
1.2.107 POINS
Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?
what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how
agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou
soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira
and a cold capon's leg?
1.2.112 PRINCE HENRY
Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have
his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of
proverbs: he will give the devil his due.
1.2.115 POINS
Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.
1.2.116 PRINCE HENRY
Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.
1.2.117 POINS
But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by four
o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going
to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders
riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards
for you all; you have horses for yourselves:
Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester: I have bespoke
supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it
as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff
your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry
at home and be hanged.
1.2.127 FALSTAFF
Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not,
I'll hang you for going.
1.2.129 POINS
You will, chops?
1.2.130 FALSTAFF
Hal, wilt thou make one?
1.2.131 PRINCE HENRY
Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.
1.2.132 FALSTAFF
There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good
fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood
royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.
1.2.135 PRINCE HENRY
Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
1.2.136 FALSTAFF
Why, that's well said.
1.2.137 PRINCE HENRY
Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
1.2.138 FALSTAFF
By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.
1.2.139 PRINCE HENRY
I care not.
1.2.140 POINS
Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:
I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure
that he shall go.
1.2.143 FALSTAFF
Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him
the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may
move and what he hears may be believed, that the
true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false
thief; for the poor abuses of the time want
countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.
1.2.149 PRINCE HENRY
Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!
Exit Falstaff
1.2.150 POINS
Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us
tomorrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot
manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill
shall rob those men that we have already waylaid:
yourself and I will not be there; and when they
have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut
this head off from my shoulders.
1.2.157 PRINCE HENRY
How shall we part with them in setting forth?
1.2.158 POINS
Why, we will set forth before or after them, and
appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at
our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure
upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have
no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.
1.2.163 PRINCE HENRY
Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our
horses, by our habits and by every other
appointment, to be ourselves.
1.2.166 POINS
Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them
in the wood; our vizards we will change after we
leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram
for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.
1.2.170 PRINCE HENRY
Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
1.2.171 POINS
Well, for two of them, I know them to be as
true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the
third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll
forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the
incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will
tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at
least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what
extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this
lies the jest.
1.2.180 PRINCE HENRY
Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things
necessary and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap;
there I'll sup. Farewell.
1.2.183 POINS
Farewell, my lord.
Exit Poins
1.2.184 PRINCE HENRY
I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So, when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will.
Exit
Contents

Act 1

Scene 3

London. The palace.

Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others
1.3.1 KING HENRY IV
My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
Unapt to stir at these indignities,
And you have found me; for accordingly
You tread upon my patience: but be sure
I will from henceforth rather be myself,
Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition;
Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
And therefore lost that title of respect
Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.
1.3.10 EARL OF WORCESTER
Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves
The scourge of greatness to be used on it;
And that same greatness too which our own hands
Have holp to make so portly.
1.3.14 NORTHUMBERLAND
My lord. –
1.3.15 KING HENRY IV
Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see
Danger and disobedience in thine eye:
O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
And majesty might never yet endure
The moody frontier of a servant brow.
You have good leave to leave us: when we need
Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.
Exit WORCESTER
You were about to speak.
To NORTHUMBERLAND
1.3.23 NORTHUMBERLAND
Yea, my good lord.
Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
Were, as he says, not with such strength denied
As is deliver'd to your majesty:
Either envy, therefore, or misprison
Is guilty of this fault and not my son.
1.3.30 HOTSPUR
My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
But I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner;
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose and took't away again;
Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd,
And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms
He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded
My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.
I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
To be so pester'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,
He should or he should not; for he made me mad
To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman
Of guns and drums and wounds, – God save the mark! –
And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said;
And I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accusation
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
1.3.71 SIR WALTER BLUNT
The circumstance consider'd, good my lord,
Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said
To such a person and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably die and never rise
To do him wrong or any way impeach
What then he said, so he unsay it now.
1.3.78 KING HENRY IV
Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,
But with proviso and exception,
That we at our own charge shall ransom straight
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
The lives of those that he did lead to fight
Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower,
Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March
Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,
Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we but treason? and indent with fears,
When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains let him starve;
For I shall never hold that man my friend
Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
To ransom home revolted Mortimer.
1.3.94 HOTSPUR
Revolted Mortimer!
He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
But by the chance of war; to prove that true
Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
In single opposition, hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an hour
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
Three times they breathed and three times did they drink,
Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;
Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,
Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.
Never did base and rotten policy
Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor could the noble Mortimer
Receive so many, and all willingly:
Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.
1.3.114 KING HENRY IV
Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him;
He never did encounter with Glendower:
I tell thee,
He durst as well have met the devil alone
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer:
Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
Or you shall hear in such a kind from me
As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,
We licence your departure with your son.
Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train
1.3.126 HOTSPUR
An if the devil come and roar for them,
I will not send them: I will after straight
And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,
Albeit I make a hazard of my head.
1.3.130 NORTHUMBERLAND
What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:
Here comes your uncle.
Re-enter WORCESTER
1.3.132 HOTSPUR
Speak of Mortimer!
'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
Want mercy, if I do not join with him:
Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,
And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer
As high in the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.
1.3.140 NORTHUMBERLAND
Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.
1.3.141 EARL OF WORCESTER
Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
1.3.142 HOTSPUR
He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;
And when I urged the ransom once again
Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale,
And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
1.3.147 EARL OF WORCESTER
I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd
By Richard that dead is the next of blood?
1.3.149 NORTHUMBERLAND
He was; I heard the proclamation:
And then it was when the unhappy king,
– Whose wrongs in us God pardon! – did set forth
Upon his Irish expedition;
From whence he intercepted did return
To be deposed and shortly murdered.
1.3.155 EARL OF WORCESTER
And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth
Live scandalized and foully spoken of.
1.3.157 HOTSPUR
But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then
Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
Heir to the crown?
1.3.160 NORTHUMBERLAND
He did; myself did hear it.
1.3.161 HOTSPUR
Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
That wished him on the barren mountains starve.
But shall it be that you, that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man
And for his sake wear the detested blot
Of murderous subornation, shall it be,
That you a world of curses undergo,
Being the agents, or base second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
O, pardon me that I descend so low,
To show the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this subtle king;
Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did gage them both in an unjust behalf,
As both of you – God pardon it! – have done,
To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
And shall it in more shame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off
By him for whom these shames ye underwent?
No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem
Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves
Into the good thoughts of the world again,
Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud king, who studies day and night
To answer all the debt he owes to you
Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:
Therefore, I say –
1.3.191 EARL OF WORCESTER
Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents
I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.
1.3.198 HOTSPUR
If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim:
Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it from the north to south,
And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs
To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
1.3.203 NORTHUMBERLAND
Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
1.3.205 HOTSPUR
By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,
To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
Without corrival, all her dignities:
But out upon this half-faced fellowship!
1.3.213 EARL OF WORCESTER
He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend.
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
1.3.216 HOTSPUR
I cry you mercy.
1.3.217 EARL OF WORCESTER
Those same noble Scots
That are your prisoners, –
1.3.219 HOTSPUR
I'll keep them all;
By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I'll keep them, by this hand.
1.3.223 EARL OF WORCESTER
You start away
And lend no ear unto my purposes.
Those prisoners you shall keep.
1.3.226 HOTSPUR
Nay, I will; that's flat:
He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'
Nay,
I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him
To keep his anger still in motion.
1.3.235 EARL OF WORCESTER
Hear you, cousin; a word.
1.3.236 HOTSPUR
All studies here I solemnly defy,
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,
But that I think his father loves him not
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale.
1.3.242 EARL OF WORCESTER
Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you
When you are better temper'd to attend.
1.3.244 NORTHUMBERLAND
Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
1.3.247 HOTSPUR
Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods,
Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard's time, – what do you call the place? –
A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;
'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke, –
'Sblood! –
When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
1.3.257 NORTHUMBERLAND
At Berkley castle.
1.3.258 HOTSPUR
You say true:
Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,'
And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;'
O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!
Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.
1.3.265 EARL OF WORCESTER
Nay, if you have not, to it again;
We will stay your leisure.
1.3.267 HOTSPUR
I have done, i' faith.
1.3.268 EARL OF WORCESTER
Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas' son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assured,
Will easily be granted. You, my lord,
To NORTHUMBERLAND
Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
Shall secretly into the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.
1.3.278 HOTSPUR
Of York, is it not?
1.3.279 EARL OF WORCESTER
True; who bears hard
His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
I speak not this in estimation,
As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
1.3.286 HOTSPUR
I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.
1.3.287 NORTHUMBERLAND
Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip.
1.3.288 HOTSPUR
Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
And then the power of Scotland and of York,
To join with Mortimer, ha?
1.3.291 EARL OF WORCESTER
And so they shall.
1.3.292 HOTSPUR
In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
1.3.293 EARL OF WORCESTER
And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head;
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king will always think him in our debt,
And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home:
And see already how he doth begin
To make us strangers to his looks of love.
1.3.301 HOTSPUR
He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.
1.3.302 EARL OF WORCESTER
Cousin, farewell: no further go in this
Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;
Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
1.3.310 NORTHUMBERLAND
Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.
1.3.311 HOTSPUR
Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short
Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!
Exeunt
Contents

Act 2

Scene 1

Rochester. An inn yard.

Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand
2.1.1 First Carrier
Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be
hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and
yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!
2.1.4 Ostler
[Within] Anon, anon.
2.1.5 First Carrier
I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks
in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out
of all cess.
Enter another Carrier
2.1.8 Second Carrier
Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that
is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this
house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.
2.1.11 First Carrier
Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats
rose; it was the death of him.
2.1.13 Second Carrier
I think this be the most villanous house in all
London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.
2.1.15 First Carrier
Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king
christen could be better bit than I have been since
the first cock.
2.1.18 Second Carrier
Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we
leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds
fleas like a loach.
2.1.21 First Carrier
What, ostler! come away and be hanged!
2.1.22 Second Carrier
I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger,
to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.
2.1.24 First Carrier
God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite
starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou
never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An
'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate
on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged!
hast thou no faith in thee?
Enter GADSHILL
2.1.30 GADSHILL
Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
2.1.31 First Carrier
I think it be two o'clock.
2.1.32 GADSHILL
I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding
in the stable.
2.1.34 First Carrier
Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.
2.1.35 GADSHILL
I pray thee, lend me thine.
2.1.36 Second Carrier
Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth
he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first.
2.1.38 GADSHILL
Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
2.1.39 Second Carrier
Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant
thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the
gentleman: they will along with company, for they
have great charge.
Exeunt carriers
2.1.43 GADSHILL
What, ho! chamberlain!
2.1.44 Chamberlain
[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse.
2.1.45 GADSHILL
That's even as fair as – at hand, quoth the
chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking
of purses than giving direction doth from labouring;
thou layest the plot how.
Enter Chamberlain
2.1.49 Chamberlain
Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that
I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the
wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with
him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his
company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one
that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what.
They are up already, and call for eggs and butter;
they will away presently.
2.1.57 GADSHILL
Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas'
clerks, I'll give thee this neck.
2.1.59 Chamberlain
No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the
hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas
as truly as a man of falsehood may.
2.1.62 GADSHILL
What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang,
I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old
Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no
starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou
dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are
content to do the profession some grace; that would,
if matters should be looked into, for their own
credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no
foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers,
none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms;
but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and
great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will
strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than
drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds,
I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the
commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey
on her, for they ride up and down on her and make
her their boots.
2.1.80 Chamberlain
What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold
out water in foul way?
2.1.82 GADSHILL
She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We
steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt
of fern-seed, we walk invisible.
2.1.85 Chamberlain
Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to
the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.
2.1.87 GADSHILL
Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our
purchase, as I am a true man.
2.1.89 Chamberlain
Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
2.1.90 GADSHILL
Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the
ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell,
you muddy knave.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 2

Scene 2

The highway, near Gadshill.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS
2.2.1 POINS
Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's
horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
2.2.3 PRINCE HENRY
Stand close.
Enter FALSTAFF
2.2.4 FALSTAFF
Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
2.2.5 PRINCE HENRY
Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost
thou keep!
2.2.7 FALSTAFF
Where's Poins, Hal?
2.2.8 PRINCE HENRY
He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him.
2.2.9 FALSTAFF
I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the
rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know
not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier
further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt
not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have
forsworn his company hourly any time this two and
twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the
rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me
medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it
could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins!
Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto!
I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere
not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to
leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that
ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven
ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me;
and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough:
a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
They whistle
Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you
rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!
2.2.30 PRINCE HENRY
Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close
to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread
of travellers.
2.2.33 FALSTAFF
Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?
'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot
again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer.
What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?
2.2.37 PRINCE HENRY
Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
2.2.38 FALSTAFF
I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,
good king's son.
2.2.40 PRINCE HENRY
Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?
2.2.41 FALSTAFF
Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I
have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy
tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest
is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.
Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO
2.2.46 GADSHILL
Stand.
2.2.47 FALSTAFF
So I do, against my will.
2.2.48 POINS
O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph,
what news?
2.2.50 BARDOLPH
Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's
money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going
to the king's exchequer.
2.2.53 FALSTAFF
You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern.
2.2.54 GADSHILL
There's enough to make us all.
2.2.55 FALSTAFF
To be hanged.
2.2.56 PRINCE HENRY
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.
2.2.59 PETO
How many be there of them?
2.2.60 GADSHILL
Some eight or ten.
2.2.61 FALSTAFF
'Zounds, will they not rob us?
2.2.62 PRINCE HENRY
What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
2.2.63 FALSTAFF
Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather;
but yet no coward, Hal.
2.2.65 PRINCE HENRY
Well, we leave that to the proof.
2.2.66 POINS
Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge:
when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him.
Farewell, and stand fast.
2.2.69 FALSTAFF
Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.
2.2.70 PRINCE HENRY
Ned, where are our disguises?
2.2.71 POINS
Here, hard by: stand close.
Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS
2.2.72 FALSTAFF
Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
every man to his business.
Enter the Travellers
2.2.74 First Traveller
Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down
the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.
2.2.76 Thieves
Stand!
2.2.77 Travellers
Jesus bless us!
2.2.78 FALSTAFF
Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats:
ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they
hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.
2.2.81 Travellers
O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
2.2.82 FALSTAFF
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, 'faith.
Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt
Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS
2.2.86 PRINCE HENRY
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.
2.2.90 POINS
Stand close; I hear them coming.
Enter the Thieves again
2.2.91 FALSTAFF
Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse
before day. An the 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.
2.2.95 PRINCE HENRY
Your money!
2.2.96 POINS
Villains!
As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them
2.2.97 PRINCE HENRY
Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are all 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:
Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.
2.2.104 POINS
How the rogue roar'd!
Exeunt
Contents

Act 2

Scene 3

Warkworth castle

Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter
2.3.1 HOTSPUR
'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well
contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear
your house.' He could be contented: why is he not,
then? In respect of the love he bears our house:
he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than
he 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 lack-brain is this! By the Lord,
our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our
friends true and constant: a good plot, good
friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot,
very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is
this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the
general course of 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 besides 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
skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him!
let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set
forward tonight.
Enter LADY PERCY
How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.
2.3.38 LADY PERCY
O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd 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-eyed musing and cursed 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' ransom 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 bestirr'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 hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
2.3.66 HOTSPUR
What, ho!
Enter Servant
Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
2.3.68 Servant
He is, my lord, an hour ago.
2.3.69 HOTSPUR
Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
2.3.70 Servant
One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
2.3.71 HOTSPUR
What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
2.3.72 Servant
It is, my lord.
2.3.73 HOTSPUR
That roan shall by my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
Exit Servant
2.3.76 LADY PERCY
But hear you, my lord.
2.3.77 HOTSPUR
What say'st thou, my lady?
2.3.78 LADY PERCY
What is it carries you away?
2.3.79 HOTSPUR
Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
2.3.80 LADY PERCY
Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss'd with. In faith,
I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title, and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise: but if you go, –
2.3.87 HOTSPUR
So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
2.3.88 LADY PERCY
Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto this question that I ask:
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
2.3.92 HOTSPUR
Away,
Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too. God's me, my horse!
What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou
have with me?
2.3.100 LADY PERCY
Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
2.3.104 HOTSPUR
Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am on horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise, but yet no farther wise
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
2.3.117 LADY PERCY
How! so far?
2.3.118 HOTSPUR
Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
Today will I set forth, tomorrow you.
Will this content you, Kate?
2.3.122 LADY PERCY
It must of force.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 2

Scene 4

The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS
2.4.1 PRINCE HENRY
Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me
thy hand to laugh a little.
2.4.3 POINS
Where hast been, Hal?
2.4.4 PRINCE HENRY
With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four
score hogsheads. I have sounded the very
base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother
to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by
their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.
They take it already upon their salvation, that
though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king
of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack,
like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a
good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I
am king of England, I shall command all the good
lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing
scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they
cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I
am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour,
that I can drink with any tinker in his own language
during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost
much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet
action. But, sweet Ned, – to sweeten which name of
Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped
even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that
never spake other English in his life than 'Eight
shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with
this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint
of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to
drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee,
do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my
puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do
thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale
to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and
I'll show thee a precedent.
2.4.35 POINS
Francis!
2.4.36 PRINCE HENRY
Thou art perfect.
2.4.37 POINS
Francis!
Exit POINS
Enter FRANCIS
2.4.38 FRANCIS
Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.
2.4.39 PRINCE HENRY
Come hither, Francis.
2.4.40 FRANCIS
My lord?
2.4.41 PRINCE HENRY
How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
2.4.42 FRANCIS
Forsooth, five years, and as much as to –
2.4.43 POINS
[Within] Francis!
2.4.44 FRANCIS
Anon, anon, sir.
2.4.45 PRINCE HENRY
Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking
of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant
as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it
a fair pair of heels and run from it?
2.4.49 FRANCIS
O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in
England, I could find in my heart.
2.4.51 POINS
[Within] Francis!
2.4.52 FRANCIS
Anon, sir.
2.4.53 PRINCE HENRY
How old art thou, Francis?
2.4.54 FRANCIS
Let me see – about Michaelmas next I shall be –
2.4.55 POINS
[Within] Francis!
2.4.56 FRANCIS
Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.
2.4.57 PRINCE HENRY
Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou
gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not?
2.4.59 FRANCIS
O Lord, I would it had been two!
2.4.60 PRINCE HENRY
I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me
when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
2.4.62 POINS
[Within] Francis!
2.4.63 FRANCIS
Anon, anon.
2.4.64 PRINCE HENRY
Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but tomorrow, Francis;
or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when
thou wilt. But, Francis!
2.4.67 FRANCIS
My lord?
2.4.68 PRINCE HENRY
Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button,
not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch, –
2.4.71 FRANCIS
O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
2.4.72 PRINCE HENRY
Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink;
for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet
will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.
2.4.75 FRANCIS
What, sir?
2.4.76 POINS
[Within] Francis!
2.4.77 PRINCE HENRY
Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call?
Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go
Enter Vintner
2.4.78 Vintner
What, standest thou still, and hearest such a
calling? Look to the guests within.
Exit Francis
My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are
at the door: shall I let them in?
2.4.82 PRINCE HENRY
Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.
Exit Vintner
Poins!
Re-enter POINS
2.4.84 POINS
Anon, anon, sir.
2.4.85 PRINCE HENRY
Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at
the door: shall we be merry?
2.4.87 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?
2.4.90 PRINCE HENRY
I am now of all humours that have showed themselves
humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the
pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
Re-enter FRANCIS
What's o'clock, Francis?
2.4.94 FRANCIS
Anon, anon, sir.
Exit
2.4.95 PRINCE HENRY
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 eloquence the parcel of
a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the
Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or
seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his
hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet
life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she,
'how many hast thou killed today?' 'Give my roan
horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some
fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I
prithee, 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; FRANCIS following with wine
2.4.109 POINS
Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?
2.4.110 FALSTAFF
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
2.4.115 PRINCE HENRY
Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?
pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale
of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound.
2.4.118 FALSTAFF
You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is
nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man:
yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime
in it. A villanous 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.
2.4.129 PRINCE HENRY
How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?
2.4.130 FALSTAFF
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!
2.4.134 PRINCE HENRY
Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
2.4.135 FALSTAFF
Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there?
2.4.136 POINS
'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the
Lord, I'll stab thee.
2.4.138 FALSTAFF
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 today.
2.4.146 PRINCE HENRY
O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
drunkest last.
2.4.148 FALSTAFF
All's one for that.
He drinks
A plague of all cowards, still say I.
2.4.150 PRINCE HENRY
What's the matter?
2.4.151 FALSTAFF
What's the matter! there be four of us here have
ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.
2.4.153 PRINCE HENRY
Where is it, Jack? where is it?
2.4.154 FALSTAFF
Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon
poor four of us.
2.4.156 PRINCE HENRY
What, a hundred, man?
2.4.157 FALSTAFF
I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a
dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped 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.
2.4.166 PRINCE HENRY
Speak, sirs; how was it?
2.4.167 GADSHILL
We four set upon some dozen –
2.4.168 FALSTAFF
Sixteen at least, my lord.
2.4.169 GADSHILL
And bound them.
2.4.170 PETO
No, no, they were not bound.
2.4.171 FALSTAFF
You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I
am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.
2.4.173 GADSHILL
As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us –
2.4.174 FALSTAFF
And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.
2.4.175 PRINCE HENRY
What, fought you with them all?
2.4.176 FALSTAFF
All! I know not what you 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.
2.4.180 PRINCE HENRY
Pray God you have not murdered some of them.
2.4.181 FALSTAFF
Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two
of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues
in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell
thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou
knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my
point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me –
2.4.187 PRINCE HENRY
What, four? thou saidst but two even now.
2.4.188 FALSTAFF
Four, Hal; I told thee four.
2.4.189 POINS
Ay, ay, he said four.
2.4.190 FALSTAFF
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.
2.4.193 PRINCE HENRY
Seven? why, there were but four even now.
2.4.194 FALSTAFF
In buckram?
2.4.195 POINS
Ay, four, in buckram suits.
2.4.196 FALSTAFF
Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
2.4.197 PRINCE HENRY
Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.
2.4.198 FALSTAFF
Dost thou hear me, Hal?
2.4.199 PRINCE HENRY
Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
2.4.200 FALSTAFF
Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine
in buckram that I told thee of –
2.4.202 PRINCE HENRY
So, two more already.
2.4.203 FALSTAFF
Their points being broken, –
2.4.204 POINS
Down fell their hose.
2.4.205 FALSTAFF
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.
2.4.208 PRINCE HENRY
O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!
2.4.209 FALSTAFF
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.
2.4.213 PRINCE HENRY
These lies are like their father that begets them;
gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou
clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou
whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch, –
2.4.217 FALSTAFF
What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth
the truth?
2.4.219 PRINCE HENRY
Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal
green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy
hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this?
2.4.222 POINS
Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
2.4.223 FALSTAFF
What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the
strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would
not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on
compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as
blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon
compulsion, I.
2.4.229 PRINCE HENRY
I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine
coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker,
this huge hill of flesh, –
2.4.232 FALSTAFF
'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried
neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O
for breath to utter what is like thee! you
tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile
standing-tuck, –
2.4.237 PRINCE HENRY
Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and
when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons,
hear me speak but this.
2.4.240 POINS
Mark, Jack.
2.4.241 PRINCE HENRY
We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and
were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain
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 as quick dexterity, and roared
for mercy and still run 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?
2.4.254 POINS
Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?
2.4.255 FALSTAFF
By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye.
Why, hear you, 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 now 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 tonight, pray tomorrow.
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?
2.4.269 PRINCE HENRY
Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.
2.4.270 FALSTAFF
Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!
Enter Hostess
2.4.271 Hostess
O Jesu, my lord the prince!
2.4.272 PRINCE HENRY
How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to
me?
2.4.274 Hostess
Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at
door would speak with you: he says he comes from
your father.
2.4.277 PRINCE HENRY
Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and
send him back again to my mother.
2.4.279 FALSTAFF
What manner of man is he?
2.4.280 Hostess
An old man.
2.4.281 FALSTAFF
What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall
I give him his answer?
2.4.283 PRINCE HENRY
Prithee, do, Jack.
2.4.284 FALSTAFF
'Faith, and I'll send him packing.
Exit FALSTAFF
2.4.285 PRINCE HENRY
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, fie!
2.4.289 BARDOLPH
'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
2.4.290 PRINCE HENRY
'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's
sword so hacked?
2.4.292 PETO
Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would
swear truth out of England but he would make you
believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like.
2.4.295 BARDOLPH
Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to
make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments
with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I
did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed
to hear his monstrous devices.
2.4.300 PRINCE HENRY
O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years
ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since
thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and
sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what
instinct hadst thou for it?
2.4.305 BARDOLPH
My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold
these exhalations?
2.4.307 PRINCE HENRY
I do.
2.4.308 BARDOLPH
What think you they portend?
2.4.309 PRINCE HENRY
Hot livers and cold purses.
2.4.310 BARDOLPH
Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
2.4.311 PRINCE HENRY
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?
2.4.315 FALSTAFF
My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I 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 villanous 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 Amamon 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?
2.4.326 POINS
O, Glendower.
2.4.327 FALSTAFF
Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer,
and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of
Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill
perpendicular, –
2.4.331 PRINCE HENRY
He that rides at high speed and with his pistol
kills a sparrow flying.
2.4.333 FALSTAFF
You have hit it.
2.4.334 PRINCE HENRY
So did he never the sparrow.
2.4.335 FALSTAFF
Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.
2.4.336 PRINCE HENRY
Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so
for running!
2.4.338 FALSTAFF
O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot.
2.4.339 PRINCE HENRY
Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
2.4.340 FALSTAFF
I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too,
and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more:
Worcester is stolen away tonight; thy father's
beard is turned white with the news: you may buy
land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.
2.4.345 PRINCE HENRY
Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and
this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads
as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.
2.4.348 FALSTAFF
By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we
shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,
art not thou horrible afeard? thou being
heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out 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?
2.4.356 PRINCE HENRY
Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.
2.4.357 FALSTAFF
Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou
comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.
2.4.359 PRINCE HENRY
Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the
particulars of my life.
2.4.361 FALSTAFF
Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state,
this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
2.4.363 PRINCE HENRY
Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden
sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich
crown for a pitiful bald crown!
2.4.366 FALSTAFF
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 my 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.
2.4.371 PRINCE HENRY
Well, here is my leg.
2.4.372 FALSTAFF
And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
2.4.373 Hostess
O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
2.4.374 FALSTAFF
Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain.
2.4.375 Hostess
O, the father, how he holds his countenance!
2.4.376 FALSTAFF
For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;
For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
2.4.378 Hostess
O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
players as ever I see!
2.4.380 FALSTAFF
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 thy mother's word, partly my own opinion,
but chiefly a villanous 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 sun 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.
2.4.403 PRINCE HENRY
What manner of man, an it like your majesty?
2.4.404 FALSTAFF
A goodly 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 three score; 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?
2.4.416 PRINCE HENRY
Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me,
and I'll play my father.
2.4.418 FALSTAFF
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.
2.4.421 PRINCE HENRY
Well, here I am set.
2.4.422 FALSTAFF
And here I stand: judge, my masters.
2.4.423 PRINCE HENRY
Now, Harry, whence come you?
2.4.424 FALSTAFF
My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
2.4.425 PRINCE HENRY
The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
2.4.426 FALSTAFF
'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle
ye for a young prince, i' faith.
2.4.428 PRINCE HENRY
Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look
on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace:
there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an
old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why
dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that
bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel
of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed
cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with
the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that
grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in
years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and
drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a
capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft?
wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous,
but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?
2.4.443 FALSTAFF
I would your grace would take me with you: whom
means your grace?
2.4.445 PRINCE HENRY
That villanous abominable misleader of youth,
Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
2.4.447 FALSTAFF
My lord, the man I know.
2.4.448 PRINCE HENRY
I know thou dost.
2.4.449 FALSTAFF
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 I 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, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack
Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,
valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant,
being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him
thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's
company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.
2.4.464 PRINCE HENRY
I do, I will.
A knocking heard
Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH
Re-enter BARDOLPH, running
2.4.465 BARDOLPH
O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most
monstrous watch is at the door.
2.4.467 FALSTAFF
Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to
say in the behalf of that Falstaff.
Re-enter the Hostess
2.4.469 Hostess
O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
2.4.470 PRINCE HENRY
Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick:
what's the matter?
2.4.472 Hostess
The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they
are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?
2.4.474 FALSTAFF
Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of
gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad,
without seeming so.
2.4.477 PRINCE HENRY
And thou a natural coward, without instinct.
2.4.478 FALSTAFF
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 I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another.
2.4.482 PRINCE HENRY
Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up
above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good
conscience.
2.4.485 FALSTAFF
Both which I have had: but their date is out, and
therefore I'll hide me.
2.4.487 PRINCE HENRY
Call in the sheriff.
Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO
Enter Sheriff and the Carrier
Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me?
2.4.489 Sheriff
First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
2.4.491 PRINCE HENRY
What men?
2.4.492 Sheriff
One of them is well known, my gracious lord,
A gross fat man.
2.4.494 Carrier
As fat as butter.
2.4.495 PRINCE HENRY
The man, I do assure you, is not here;
For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee
That I will, by tomorrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charged withal:
And so let me entreat you leave the house.
2.4.502 Sheriff
I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
2.4.504 PRINCE HENRY
It may be so: if he have robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable; and so farewell.
2.4.506 Sheriff
Good night, my noble lord.
2.4.507 PRINCE HENRY
I think it is good morrow, is it not?
2.4.508 Sheriff
Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier
2.4.509 PRINCE HENRY
This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go,
call him forth.
2.4.511 PETO
Falstaff! – Fast asleep behind the arras, and
snorting like a horse.
2.4.513 PRINCE HENRY
Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers
What hast thou found?
2.4.515 PETO
Nothing but papers, my lord.
2.4.516 PRINCE HENRY
Let's see what they be: read them.
2.4.517 PETO
[Reads] Item, A capon, two shillings and twopence.
Item, Sauce, fourpence.
Item, Sack, two gallons, five shillings and eightpence.
Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, two shillings and sixpence.
Item, Bread, half-penny.
2.4.522 PRINCE HENRY
O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to
this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else,
keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there
let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the
morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place
shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a
charge of foot; and I know his death will be a
march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid
back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in
the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto.
Exeunt
2.4.532 PETO
Good morrow, good my lord.
Contents

Act 3

Scene 1

Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER
3.1.1 MORTIMER
These promises are fair, the parties sure,
And our induction full of prosperous hope.
3.1.3 HOTSPUR
Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down?
And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!
I have forgot the map.
3.1.7 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.
3.1.12 HOTSPUR
And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.
3.1.13 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.
3.1.18 HOTSPUR
Why, so it would have done at the same season, if
your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself
had never been born.
3.1.21 GLENDOWER
I say the earth did shake when I was born.
3.1.22 HOTSPUR
And I say the earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
3.1.24 GLENDOWER
The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.
3.1.25 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,
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.
3.1.36 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.
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.
3.1.51 HOTSPUR
I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.
I'll to dinner.
3.1.53 MORTIMER
Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.
3.1.54 GLENDOWER
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
3.1.55 HOTSPUR
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
3.1.57 GLENDOWER
Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command
The devil.
3.1.59 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,
And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!
3.1.64 MORTIMER
Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
3.1.65 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.
3.1.69 HOTSPUR
Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?
3.1.71 GLENDOWER
Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right
According to our threefold order ta'en?
3.1.73 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;
Which being sealed interchangeably,
A business that this night may execute,
Tomorrow, 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,
Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.
Within that space you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.
3.1.92 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.
3.1.97 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.
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.
3.1.107 GLENDOWER
Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.
3.1.108 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
As on the other side it takes from you.
3.1.113 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.
3.1.116 HOTSPUR
I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.
3.1.117 GLENDOWER
I'll not have it alter'd.
3.1.118 HOTSPUR
Will not you?
3.1.119 GLENDOWER
No, nor you shall not.
3.1.120 HOTSPUR
Who shall say me nay?
3.1.121 GLENDOWER
Why, that will I.
3.1.122 HOTSPUR
Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.
3.1.123 GLENDOWER
I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
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.
3.1.129 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 ballad-mongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry:
'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.
3.1.138 GLENDOWER
Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
3.1.139 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?
3.1.144 GLENDOWER
The moon shines fair; you may away by night:
I'll 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 GLENDOWER
3.1.149 MORTIMER
Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!
3.1.150 HOTSPUR
I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
With telling me of the mouldwarp 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,
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,
Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
In any summer-house in Christendom.
3.1.167 MORTIMER
In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
And as 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 come 'cross his humour; faith, he does:
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.
3.1.179 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, –
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.
3.1.192 HOTSPUR
Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies
3.1.194 MORTIMER
This is the deadly spite that angers me;
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
3.1.196 GLENDOWER
My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;
She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
3.1.198 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
3.1.200 GLENDOWER
She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,
one that no persuasion can do good upon.
The lady speaks in Welsh
3.1.202 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,
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 learned 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.
3.1.213 GLENDOWER
Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
The lady speaks again in Welsh
3.1.214 MORTIMER
O, I am ignorance itself in this!
3.1.215 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.
3.1.224 MORTIMER
With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn
3.1.226 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.
3.1.230 HOTSPUR
Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come,
quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
3.1.232 LADY PERCY
Go, ye giddy goose.
The music plays
3.1.233 HOTSPUR
Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.
By'r lady, he is a good musician.
3.1.236 LADY PERCY
Then should you be nothing but musical for you are
altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief,
and hear the lady sing in Welsh.
3.1.239 HOTSPUR
I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.
3.1.240 LADY PERCY
Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
3.1.241 HOTSPUR
No.
3.1.242 LADY PERCY
Then be still.
3.1.243 HOTSPUR
Neither;'tis a woman's fault.
3.1.244 LADY PERCY
Now God help thee!
3.1.245 HOTSPUR
To the Welsh lady's bed.
3.1.246 LADY PERCY
What's that?
3.1.247 HOTSPUR
Peace! she sings.
Here the lady sings a Welsh song
3.1.248 HOTSPUR
Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.
3.1.249 LADY PERCY
Not mine, in good sooth.
3.1.250 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,
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.
3.1.261 LADY PERCY
I will not sing.
3.1.262 HOTSPUR
'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast
teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away
within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.
Exit
3.1.265 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.
3.1.269 MORTIMER
With all my heart.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 3

Scene 2

London. The palace.

Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others
3.2.1 KING HENRY IV
Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I
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
To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, 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?
3.2.18 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
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.
3.2.29 KING HENRY IV
God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing
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 doth forethink thy fall.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
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,
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, showed like a feast
And won by rareness such solemnity.
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
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,
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;
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, standest thou;
For thou has 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,
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
3.2.92 PRINCE HENRY
I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,
Be more myself.
3.2.94 KING HENRY IV
For all the world
As thou art to this hour was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,
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;
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
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,
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 curtsy at his frowns,
To show how much thou art degenerate.
3.2.130 PRINCE HENRY
Do not think so; you shall not find it so:
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,
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,
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.
3.2.161 KING HENRY IV
A hundred thousand rebels die in this:
Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.
Enter BLUNT
How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.
3.2.164 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 the state.
3.2.171 KING HENRY IV
The Earl of Westmoreland set forth today;
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 Gloucestershire; 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;
Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 3

Scene 3

Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.

Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH
3.3.1 FALSTAFF
Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last
action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my
skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose
gown; I am withered 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, villanous company, hath been the
spoil of me.
3.3.12 BARDOLPH
Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.
3.3.13 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 once
in a quarter – of an hour; paid money that I
borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in
good compass: and now I live out of all order, out
of all compass.
3.3.21 BARDOLPH
Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs
be out of all compass, out of all reasonable
compass, Sir John.
3.3.24 FALSTAFF
Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life:
thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in
the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the
Knight of the Burning Lamp.
3.3.28 BARDOLPH
Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
3.3.29 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 the light in thy face, the son of utter
darkness. When thou rannest 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
maintained that salamander of yours with fire any
time this two and thirty years; God reward me for
it!
3.3.51 BARDOLPH
'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
3.3.52 FALSTAFF
God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned.
Enter Hostess
How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired
yet who picked my pocket?
3.3.55 Hostess
Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you
think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched,
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.
3.3.60 FALSTAFF
Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many
a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go
to, you are a woman, go.
3.3.63 Hostess
Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was never
called so in mine own house before.
3.3.65 FALSTAFF
Go to, I know you well enough.
3.3.66 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.
3.3.70 FALSTAFF
Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to
bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.
3.3.72 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.
3.3.76 FALSTAFF
He had his part of it; let him pay.
3.3.77 Hostess
He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.
3.3.78 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 take mine case in mine inn but I
shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a
seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.
3.3.84 Hostess
O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not
how oft, that ring was copper!
3.3.86 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 PRINCE HENRY and PETO, marching, and FALSTAFF meets them playing on his truncheon like a life
How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith?
must we all march?
3.3.91 BARDOLPH
Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
3.3.92 Hostess
My lord, I pray you, hear me.
3.3.93 PRINCE HENRY
What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy
husband? I love him well; he is an honest man.
3.3.95 Hostess
Good my lord, hear me.
3.3.96 FALSTAFF
Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.
3.3.97 PRINCE HENRY
What sayest thou, Jack?
3.3.98 FALSTAFF
The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras
and had my pocket picked: this house is turned
bawdy-house; they pick pockets.
3.3.101 PRINCE HENRY
What didst thou lose, Jack?
3.3.102 FALSTAFF
Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of
forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my
grandfather's.
3.3.105 PRINCE HENRY
A trifle, some eight-penny matter.
3.3.106 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-mouthed man as he is; and said
he would cudgel you.
3.3.110 PRINCE HENRY
What! he did not?
3.3.111 Hostess
There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.
3.3.112 FALSTAFF
There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed
prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn
fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the
deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing,
go
3.3.117 Hostess
Say, what thing? what thing?
3.3.118 FALSTAFF
What thing! why, a thing to thank God on.
3.3.119 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.
3.3.123 FALSTAFF
Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say
otherwise.
3.3.125 Hostess
Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?
3.3.126 FALSTAFF
What beast! why, an otter.
3.3.127 PRINCE HENRY
An otter, Sir John! Why an otter?
3.3.128 FALSTAFF
Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not
where to have her.
3.3.130 Hostess
Thou art an unjust man in saying so: thou or any
man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!
3.3.132 PRINCE HENRY
Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.
3.3.133 Hostess
So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you
ought him a thousand pound.
3.3.135 PRINCE HENRY
Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
3.3.136 FALSTAFF
A thousand pound, Ha! a million: thy love is worth
a million: thou owest me thy love.
3.3.138 Hostess
Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would
cudgel you.
3.3.140 FALSTAFF
Did I, Bardolph?
3.3.141 BARDOLPH
Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
3.3.142 FALSTAFF
Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
3.3.143 PRINCE HENRY
I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now?
3.3.144 FALSTAFF
Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare:
but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the
roaring of a lion's whelp.
3.3.147 PRINCE HENRY
And why not as the lion?
3.3.148 FALSTAFF
The king himself is to be feared 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.
3.3.151 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
filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest
woman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whoreson,
impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything in
thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of
bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of
sugar-candy to make thee long-winded, if thy pocket
were enriched with any other injuries but these, I
am a villain: and yet you will stand to if; you will
not pocket up wrong: art thou not ashamed?
3.3.163 FALSTAFF
Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of
innocency Adam fell; and what should poor Jack
Falstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest I
have more flesh than another man, and therefore more
frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?
3.3.168 PRINCE HENRY
It appears so by the story.
3.3.169 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 answered?
3.3.176 PRINCE HENRY
O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to
thee: the money is paid back again.
3.3.178 FALSTAFF
O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour.
3.3.179 PRINCE HENRY
I am good friends with my father and may do any thing.
3.3.180 FALSTAFF
Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and
do it with unwashed hands too.
3.3.182 BARDOLPH
Do, my lord.
3.3.183 PRINCE HENRY
I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
3.3.184 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 be thanked for
these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous: I
laud them, I praise them.
3.3.190 PRINCE HENRY
Bardolph!
3.3.191 BARDOLPH
My lord?
3.3.192 PRINCE HENRY
Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my
brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.
Exit Bardolph
Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have
thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.
Exit Peto
Jack, meet me tomorrow in the temple hall at two
o'clock in the afternoon.
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 PRINCE HENRY
3.3.202 FALSTAFF
Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!
O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!
Exit
Contents

Act 4

Scene 1

The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS
4.1.1 HOTSPUR
Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth
In this fine age were not thought flattery,
Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a soldier of this season's stamp
Should go so general current through the world.
By God, I cannot flatter; I do defy
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
4.1.10 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Thou art the king of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground
But I will beard him.
4.1.13 HOTSPUR
Do so, and 'tis well.
Enter a Messenger with letters
What letters hast thou there? – I can but thank you.
4.1.15 Messenger
These letters come from your father.
4.1.16 HOTSPUR
Letters from him! why comes he not himself?
4.1.17 Messenger
He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.
4.1.18 HOTSPUR
'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick
In such a rustling time? Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?
4.1.21 Messenger
His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
4.1.22 EARL OF WORCESTER
I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
4.1.23 Messenger
He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
And at the time of my departure thence
He was much fear'd by his physicians.
4.1.26 EARL OF WORCESTER
I would the state of time had first been whole
Ere he by sickness had been visited:
His health was never better worth than now.
4.1.29 HOTSPUR
Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise;
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here, that inward sickness –
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul removed but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is disposed to us;
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now.
Because the king is certainly possess'd
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
4.1.43 EARL OF WORCESTER
Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
4.1.44 HOTSPUR
A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:
And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it: were it good
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good; for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope,
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.
4.1.54 EARL OF DOUGLAS
'Faith, and so we should;
Where now remains a sweet reversion:
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
Is to come in:
A comfort of retirement lives in this.
4.1.59 HOTSPUR
A rendezvous, a home to fly unto.
If that the devil and mischance look big
Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
4.1.62 EARL OF WORCESTER
But yet I would your father had been here.
The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no division: it will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike
Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence:
And think how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction
And breed a kind of question in our cause;
For well you know we of the offering side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,
And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us:
This absence of your father's draws a curtain,
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.
4.1.78 HOTSPUR
You strain too far.
I rather of his absence make this use:
It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the earl were here; for men must think,
If we without his help can make a head
To push against a kingdom, with his help
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
4.1.87 EARL OF DOUGLAS
As heart can think: there is not such a word
Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.
Enter SIR RICHARD VERNON
4.1.89 HOTSPUR
My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.
4.1.90 VERNON
Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
4.1.93 HOTSPUR
No harm: what more?
4.1.94 VERNON
And further, I have learn'd,
The king himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
4.1.98 HOTSPUR
He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside,
And bid it pass?
4.1.102 VERNON
All furnish'd, all in arms;
All plumed like estridges that with the wind
Baited like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd
Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
4.1.116 HOTSPUR
No more, no more: worse than the sun in March,
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come:
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war
All hot and bleeding will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh
And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:
Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.
O that Glendower were come!
4.1.130 VERNON
There is more news:
I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
4.1.133 EARL OF DOUGLAS
That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
4.1.134 WORCESTER
Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
4.1.135 HOTSPUR
What may the king's whole battle reach unto?
4.1.136 VERNON
To thirty thousand.
4.1.137 HOTSPUR
Forty let it be:
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day
Come, let us take a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
4.1.142 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Talk not of dying: I am out of fear
Of death or death's hand for this one-half year.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 4

Scene 2

A public road near Coventry.

Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH
4.2.1 FALSTAFF
Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a
bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march through;
we'll to Sutton Co'fil' tonight.
4.2.4 BARDOLPH
Will you give me money, captain?
4.2.5 FALSTAFF
Lay out, lay out.
4.2.6 BARDOLPH
This bottle makes an angel.
4.2.7 FALSTAFF
An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make
twenty, take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid
my lieutenant Peto meet me at town's end.
4.2.10 BARDOLPH
I will, captain: farewell.
Exit
4.2.11 FALSTAFF
If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused
gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably.
I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty
soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me
none but good house-holders, yeoman's sons; inquire
me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked
twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves,
as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum; such as
fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck
fowl or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such
toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no
bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out
their services; and now my whole charge consists of
ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of
companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the
painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his
sores; and such as indeed were never soldiers, but
discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to
younger brothers, revolted tapsters and ostlers
trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a
long peace, ten times more dishonourable ragged than
an old faced ancient: and such have I, to fill up
the rooms of them that have bought out their
services, that you would think that I had a hundred
and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from
swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad
fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded
all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye
hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through
Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the
villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had
gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of
prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my
company; and the half shirt is two napkins tacked
together and thrown over the shoulders like an
herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say
the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or
the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But that's all
one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND
4.2.50 PRINCE HENRY
How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt!
4.2.51 FALSTAFF
What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou
in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I
cry you mercy: I thought your honour had already been
at Shrewsbury.
4.2.55 WESTMORELAND
Faith, Sir John,'tis more than time that I were
there, and you too; but my powers are there already.
The king, I can tell you, looks for us all: we must
away all night.
4.2.59 FALSTAFF
Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to
steal cream.
4.2.61 PRINCE HENRY
I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath
already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose
fellows are these that come after?
4.2.64 FALSTAFF
Mine, Hal, mine.
4.2.65 PRINCE HENRY
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
4.2.66 FALSTAFF
Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food
for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better:
tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
4.2.69 WESTMORELAND
Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor
and bare, too beggarly.
4.2.71 FALSTAFF
'Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had
that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never
learned that of me.
4.2.74 PRINCE HENRY
No I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on
the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste: Percy is
already in the field.
4.2.77 FALSTAFF
What, is the king encamped?
4.2.78 WESTMORELAND
He is, Sir John: I fear we shall stay too long.
4.2.79 FALSTAFF
Well,
To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 4

Scene 3

The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON
4.3.1 HOTSPUR
We'll fight with him tonight.
4.3.2 EARL OF WORCESTER
It may not be.
4.3.3 EARL OF DOUGLAS
You give him then the advantage.
4.3.4 VERNON
Not a whit.
4.3.5 HOTSPUR
Why say you so? looks he not for supply?
4.3.6 VERNON
So do we.
4.3.7 HOTSPUR
His is certain, ours is doubtful.
4.3.8 EARL OF WORCESTER
Good cousin, be advised; stir not tonight.
4.3.9 VERNON
Do not, my lord.
4.3.10 EARL OF DOUGLAS
You do not counsel well:
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
4.3.12 VERNON
Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,
And I dare well maintain it with my life,
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear
As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives:
Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle
Which of us fears.
4.3.19 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Yea, or tonight.
4.3.20 VERNON
Content.
4.3.21 HOTSPUR
Tonight, say I.
4.3.22 VERNON
Come, come it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition: certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but today;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.
4.3.31 HOTSPUR
So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of rest.
4.3.34 EARL OF WORCESTER
The number of the king exceedeth ours:
For God's sake. cousin, stay till all come in.
The trumpet sounds a parley
Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT
4.3.36 SIR WALTER BLUNT
I come with gracious offers from the king,
if you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
4.3.38 HOTSPUR
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God
You were of our determination!
Some of us love you well; and even those some
Envy your great deservings and good name,
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
4.3.44 SIR WALTER BLUNT
And God defend but still I should stand so,
So long as out of limit and true rule
You stand against anointed majesty.
But to my charge. The king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty. If that the king
Have any way your good deserts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed
You shall have your desires with interest
And pardon absolute for yourself and these
Herein misled by your suggestion.
4.3.58 HOTSPUR
The king is kind; and well we know the king
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father and my uncle and myself
Did give him that same royalty he wears;
And when he was not six and twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore;
And when he heard him swear and vow to God
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery and beg his peace,
With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,
My father, in kind heart and pity moved,
Swore him assistance and perform'd it too.
Now when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less came in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs, as pages follow'd him
Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
He presently, as greatness knows itself,
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,
This seeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for;
Proceeded further; cut me off the heads
Of all the favourites that the absent king
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was personal in the Irish war.
4.3.95 SIR WALTER BLUNT
Tut, I came not to hear this.
4.3.96 HOTSPUR
Then to the point.
In short time after, he deposed the king;
Soon after that, deprived him of his life;
And in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March,
Who is, if every owner were well placed,
Indeed his king, to be engaged in Wales,
There without ransom to lie forfeited;
Disgraced me in my happy victories,
Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
Rated mine uncle from the council-board;
In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;
Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,
And in conclusion drove us to seek out
This head of safety; and withal to pry
Into his title, the which we find
Too indirect for long continuance.
4.3.113 SIR WALTER BLUNT
Shall I return this answer to the king?
4.3.114 HOTSPUR
Not so, Sir Walter: we'll withdraw awhile.
Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
Some surety for a safe return again,
And in the morning early shall my uncle
Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.
4.3.119 SIR WALTER BLUNT
I would you would accept of grace and love.
4.3.120 HOTSPUR
And may be so we shall.
4.3.121 SIR WALTER BLUNT
Pray God you do.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 4

Scene 4

York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace.

Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK and SIR MICHAEL
4.4.1 ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Hie, good Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief
With winged haste to the lord marshal;
This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest
To whom they are directed. If you knew
How much they do to import, you would make haste.
4.4.6 SIR MICHAEL
My good lord,
I guess their tenor.
4.4.8 ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Like enough you do.
Tomorrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly given to understand,
The king with mighty and quick-raised power
Meets with Lord Harry: and, I fear, Sir Michael,
What with the sickness of Northumberland,
Whose power was in the first proportion,
And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,
Who with them was a rated sinew too
And comes not in, o'er-ruled by prophecies,
I fear the power of Percy is too weak
To wage an instant trial with the king.
4.4.22 SIR MICHAEL
Why, my good lord, you need not fear;
There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.
4.4.24 ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
No, Mortimer is not there.
4.4.25 SIR MICHAEL
But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
And there is my Lord of Worcester and a head
Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.
4.4.28 ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn
The special head of all the land together:
The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
The noble Westmoreland and warlike Blunt;
And more corrivals and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.
4.4.34 SIR MICHAEL
Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.
4.4.35 ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;
And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed:
For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the king
Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,
For he hath heard of our confederacy,
And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him:
Therefore make haste. I must go write again
To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael.
Exeunt
Contents

Act 5

Scene 1

KING HENRY IV's camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, Lord John of LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and FALSTAFF
5.1.1 KING HENRY IV
How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.
5.1.4 PRINCE HENRY
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
5.1.8 KING HENRY IV
Then with the losers let it sympathize,
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
The trumpet sounds
Enter WORCESTER and VERNON
How now, my Lord of Worcester! 'tis not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms
As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,
And made us doff our easy robes of peace,
To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:
This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
What say you to it? will you again unknit
This curlish knot of all-abhorred war?
And move in that obedient orb again
Where you did give a fair and natural light,
And be no more an exhaled meteor,
A prodigy of fear and a portent
Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
5.1.23 EARL OF WORCESTER
Hear me, my liege:
For mine own part, I could be well content
To entertain the lag-end of my life
With quiet hours; for I do protest,
I have not sought the day of this dislike.
5.1.28 KING HENRY IV
You have not sought it! how comes it, then?
5.1.29 FALSTAFF
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
5.1.30 PRINCE HENRY
Peace, chewet, peace!
5.1.31 EARL OF WORCESTER
It pleased your majesty to turn your looks
Of favour from myself and all our house;
And yet I must remember you, my lord,
We were the first and dearest of your friends.
For you my staff of office did I break
In Richard's time; and posted day and night
To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,
When yet you were in place and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
It was myself, my brother and his son,
That brought you home and boldly did outdare
The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;
Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,
The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:
To this we swore our aid. But in short space
It rain'd down fortune showering on your head;
And such a flood of greatness fell on you,
What with our help, what with the absent king,
What with the injuries of a wanton time,
The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
And the contrarious winds that held the king
So long in his unlucky Irish wars
That all in England did repute him dead:
And from this swarm of fair advantages
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
To gripe the general sway into your hand;
Forget your oath to us at Doncaster;
And being fed by us you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest;
Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk
That even our love durst not come near your sight
For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
We were enforced, for safety sake, to fly
Out of your sight and raise this present head;
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you yourself have forged against yourself
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.
5.1.73 KING HENRY IV
These things indeed you have articulate,
Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches,
To face the garment of rebellion
With some fine colour that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
Of hurlyburly innovation:
And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours to impaint his cause;
Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
Of pellmell havoc and confusion.
5.1.84 PRINCE HENRY
In both your armies there is many a soul
Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,
If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes,
This present enterprise set off his head,
I do not think a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant or more valiant-young,
More daring or more bold, is now alive
To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant been to chivalry;
And so I hear he doth account me too;
Yet this before my father's majesty –
I am content that he shall take the odds
Of his great name and estimation,
And will, to save the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him in a single fight.
5.1.102 KING HENRY IV
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
Albeit considerations infinite
Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no,
We love our people well; even those we love
That are misled upon your cousin's part;
And, will they take the offer of our grace,
Both he and they and you, every man
Shall be my friend again and I'll be his:
So tell your cousin, and bring me word
What he will do: but if he will not yield,
Rebuke and dread correction wait on us
And they shall do their office. So, be gone;
We will not now be troubled with reply:
We offer fair; take it advisedly.
Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON
5.1.116 PRINCE HENRY
It will not be accepted, on my life:
The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
Are confident against the world in arms.
5.1.119 KING HENRY IV
Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;
For, on their answer, will we set on them:
And God befriend us, as our cause is just!
Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY and FALSTAFF
5.1.122 FALSTAFF
Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride
me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.
5.1.124 PRINCE HENRY
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.
Say thy prayers, and farewell.
5.1.126 FALSTAFF
I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.
5.1.127 PRINCE HENRY
Why, thou owest God a death.
Exit PRINCE HENRY
5.1.128 FALSTAFF
'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before
his day. What need I be so forward with him that
calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; honour pricks
me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I
come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or
an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no.
Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is
honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what
is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?
he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no.
Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then. Yea,
to the dead. But will it not live with the living?
no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore
I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so
ends my catechism.
Exit
Contents

Act 5

Scene 2

The rebel camp.

Enter WORCESTER and VERNON
5.2.1 EARL OF WORCESTER
O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberal and kind offer of the king.
5.2.3 VERNON
'Twere best he did.
5.2.4 EARL OF WORCESTER
Then are we all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The king should keep his word in loving us;
He will suspect us still and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults:
Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd and lock'd up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we can, or sad or merrily,
Interpretation will misquote our looks,
And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
My nephew's trespass may be well forgot;
it hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,
And an adopted name of privilege,
A hair-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen:
All his offences live upon my head
And on his father's; we did train him on,
And, his corruption being ta'en from us,
We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all.
Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,
In any case, the offer of the king.
5.2.27 VERNON
Deliver what you will; I'll say 'tis so.
Here comes your cousin.
Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS
5.2.29 HOTSPUR
My uncle is return'd:
Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.
Uncle, what news?
5.2.32 EARL OF WORCESTER
The king will bid you battle presently.
5.2.33 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.
5.2.34 HOTSPUR
Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
5.2.35 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Marry, and shall, and very willingly.
Exit
5.2.36 EARL OF WORCESTER
There is no seeming mercy in the king.
5.2.37 HOTSPUR
Did you beg any? God forbid!
5.2.38 EARL OF WORCESTER
I told him gently of our grievances,
Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
By now forswearing that he is forsworn:
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
Re-enter the EARL OF DOUGLAS
5.2.43 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
5.2.47 EARL OF WORCESTER
The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king,
And, nephew, challenged you to single fight.
5.2.49 HOTSPUR
O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath today
But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How show'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt?
5.2.53 VERNON
No, by my soul; I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,
Unless a brother should a brother dare
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man;
Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue,
Spoke to your deservings like a chronicle,
Making you ever better than his praise
By still dispraising praise valued in you;
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself;
And chid his truant youth with such a grace
As if he master'd there a double spirit.
Of teaching and of learning instantly.
There did he pause: but let me tell the world,
If he outlive the envy of this day,
England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
5.2.71 HOTSPUR
Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
On his follies: never did I hear
Of any prince so wild a libertine.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night
I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesy.
Arm, arm with speed: and, fellows, soldiers, friends,
Better consider what you have to do
Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with persuasion.
Enter a Messenger
5.2.81 Messenger
My lord, here are letters for you.
5.2.82 HOTSPUR
I cannot read them now.
O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
To spend that shortness basely were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
And if we live, we live to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.
Enter another Messenger
5.2.91 Messenger
My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.
5.2.92 HOTSPUR
I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profess not talking; only this –
Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now, Esperance! Percy! and set on.
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that music let us all embrace;
For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.
The trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt
Contents

Act 5

Scene 3

Plain between the camps.

KING HENRY enters with his power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT
5.3.1 SIR WALTER BLUNT
What is thy name, that in the battle thus
Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?
5.3.4 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Know then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
Because some tell me that thou art a king.
5.3.7 SIR WALTER BLUNT
They tell thee true.
5.3.8 EARL OF DOUGLAS
The Lord of Stafford dear today hath bought
Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
5.3.12 SIR WALTER BLUNT
I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.
They fight. DOUGLAS kills SIR WALTER BLUNT. Enter HOTSPUR
5.3.15 HOTSPUR
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
5.3.17 EARL OF DOUGLAS
All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.
5.3.18 HOTSPUR
Where?
5.3.19 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Here.
5.3.20 HOTSPUR
This, Douglas? no: I know this face full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.
5.3.23 EARL OF DOUGLAS
A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
5.3.26 HOTSPUR
The king hath many marching in his coats.
5.3.27 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.
5.3.30 HOTSPUR
Up, and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
Exeunt
Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF, solus
5.3.32 FALSTAFF
Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear
the shot here; here's no scoring but upon the pate.
Soft! who are you? Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour
for you! here's no vanity! I am as hot as moulten
lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I
need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have
led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: there's
not three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and
they are for the town's end, to beg during life.
But who comes here?
Enter PRINCE HENRY
5.3.42 PRINCE HENRY
What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword:
Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet unrevenged: I prithee,
lend me thy sword.
5.3.47 FALSTAFF
O Hal, I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile.
Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have
done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.
5.3.50 PRINCE HENRY
He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee,
lend me thy sword.
5.3.52 FALSTAFF
Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st
not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
5.3.54 PRINCE HENRY
Give it to me: what, is it in the case?
5.3.55 FALSTAFF
Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city.
PRINCE HENRY draws it out, and finds it to be a bottle of sack
5.3.56 PRINCE HENRY
What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
He throws the bottle at him. Exit
5.3.57 FALSTAFF
Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do
come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his
willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like
not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: give me
life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes
unlooked for, and there's an end.
Exit FALSTAFF
Contents

Act 5

Scene 4

Another part of the field.

Alarum. Excursions. Enter PRINCE HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, and EARL OF WESTMORELAND
5.4.1 KING HENRY IV
I prithee,
Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much.
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
5.4.4 LANCASTER
Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
5.4.5 PRINCE HENRY
I beseech your majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
5.4.7 KING HENRY IV
I will do so.
My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.
5.4.9 WESTMORELAND
Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.
5.4.10 PRINCE HENRY
Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:
And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
and rebels' arms triumph in massacres!
5.4.15 LANCASTER
We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,
Our duty this way lies; for God's sake come.
Exeunt LANCASTER and WESTMORELAND
5.4.17 PRINCE HENRY
By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I loved thee as a brother, John;
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.
5.4.21 KING HENRY IV
I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
5.4.24 PRINCE HENRY
O, this boy
Lends mettle to us all!
Exit
Enter DOUGLAS
5.4.26 EARL OF DOUGLAS
Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:
I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
That wear those colours on them: what art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a king?
5.4.30 KING HENRY IV
The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart
So many of his shadows thou hast met
And not the very king. I have two boys
Seek Percy and thyself about the field:
But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee: so, defend thyself.
5.4.36 EARL OF DOUGLAS
I fear thou art another counterfeit;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
They fight. KING HENRY being in danger, PRINCE HENRY enters
5.4.40 PRINCE HENRY
Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! the spirits
Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee;
Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
They fight: DOUGLAS flies
Cheerly, my lord how fares your grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent,
And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.
5.4.48 KING HENRY IV
Stay, and breathe awhile:
Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,
And show'd thou makest some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
5.4.52 PRINCE HENRY
O God! they did me too much injury
That ever said I hearken'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
Which would have been as speedy in your end
As all the poisonous potions in the world
And saved the treacherous labour of your son.
5.4.59 KING HENRY IV
Make up to Clifton: I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
Exit
Enter HOTSPUR
5.4.60 HOTSPUR
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
5.4.61 PRINCE HENRY
Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
5.4.62 HOTSPUR
My name is Harry Percy.
5.4.63 PRINCE HENRY
Why, then I see
A very valiant rebel of the name.
I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double reign,
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
5.4.70 HOTSPUR
Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come
To end the one of us; and would to God
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!
5.4.73 PRINCE HENRY
I'll make it greater ere I part from thee;
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
5.4.76 HOTSPUR
I can no longer brook thy vanities.
They fight
Enter FALSTAFF
5.4.77 FALSTAFF
Well said, Hal! to it Hal! Nay, you shall find no
boy's play here, I can tell you.
Re-enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls
5.4.79 HOTSPUR
O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!
I better brook the loss of brittle life
Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;
They wound my thoughts worse than sword my flesh:
But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust
And food for –
Dies
5.4.89 PRINCE HENRY
For worms, brave Percy: fare thee well, great heart!
Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough: this earth that bears thee dead
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
I should not make so dear a show of zeal:
But let my favours hide thy mangled face;
And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph!
He spieth FALSTAFF on the ground
What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
I could have better spared a better man:
O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with vanity!
Death hath not struck so fat a deer today,
Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.
Embowell'd will I see thee by and by:
Till then in blood by noble Percy lie.
Exit PRINCE HENRY
5.4.113 FALSTAFF
[Rising up] Embowelled! if thou embowel me today,
I'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too
tomorrow. 'Sblood,'twas time to counterfeit, or
that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too.
Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die,
is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the
counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man:
but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby
liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and
perfect image of life indeed. The better part of
valour is discretion; in the which better part I
have saved my life.'Zounds, I am afraid of this
gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how, if he
should counterfeit too and rise? by my faith, I am
afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.
Therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll swear I
killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.
Therefore, sirrah,
Stabbing him
with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.
Takes up HOTSPUR on his back
Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER
5.4.133 PRINCE HENRY
Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd
Thy maiden sword.
5.4.135 LANCASTER
But, soft! whom have we here?
Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
5.4.137 PRINCE HENRY
I did; I saw him dead,
Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art
thou alive?
Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
I prithee, speak; we will not trust our eyes
Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem'st.
5.4.143 FALSTAFF
No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I
be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy:
Throwing the body down
if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let
him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either
earl or duke, I can assure you.
5.4.148 PRINCE HENRY
Why, Percy I killed myself and saw thee dead.
5.4.149 FALSTAFF
Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to
lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath;
and so was he: but we rose both at an instant and
fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be
believed, so; if not, let them that should reward
valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take
it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the
thigh: if the man were alive and would deny it,
'zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.
5.4.158 LANCASTER
This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
5.4.159 PRINCE HENRY
This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
A retreat is sounded
The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.
Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and LANCASTER
5.4.166 FALSTAFF
I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that
rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great,
I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and
live cleanly as a nobleman should do.
Exit
Contents

Act 5

Scene 5

Another part of the field.

The trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, LORD JOHN LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners
5.5.1 KING HENRY IV
Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace,
Pardon and terms of love to all of you?
And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
Three knights upon our party slain today,
A noble earl and many a creature else
Had been alive this hour,
If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.
5.5.11 EARL OF WORCESTER
What I have done my safety urged me to;
And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be avoided it falls on me.
5.5.14 KING HENRY IV
Bear Worcester to the death and Vernon too:
Other offenders we will pause upon.
Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded
How goes the field?
5.5.17 PRINCE HENRY
The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
The noble Percy slain, and all his men
Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;
And falling from a hill, he was so bruised
That the pursuers took him. At my tent
The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace
I may dispose of him.
5.5.25 KING HENRY IV
With all my heart.
5.5.26 PRINCE HENRY
Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you
This honourable bounty shall belong:
Go to the Douglas, and deliver him
Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:
His valour shown upon our crests today
Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds
Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
5.5.33 LANCASTER
I thank your grace for this high courtesy,
Which I shall give away immediately.
5.5.35 KING HENRY IV
Then this remains, that we divide our power.
You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland
Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed,
To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,
Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
Meeting the check of such another day:
And since this business so fair is done,
Let us not leave till all our own be won.
Exeunt
Contents

Finis