IV

Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard's time,-What do

place 3

you call the

A plague upon't!-it is in Glostershire ;-
'Twas where the mad-cap duke

his

uncle

His uncle York ;-where I first bow'd my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,
When you and he came back from Raven-
spurg.

North. At Berkley castle.

Hot. You say true:-

Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look,-when his infant fortune came
age,

And, gentle Harry Percy, and, kind cousin,-
Oh! the devil take such cozeners!--God for-
give me!--

Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done.
Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again;
We'll stay your leisure

Hot. I have done, i'faith.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish pri

Which I shall send you written, be assur'd
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 belov'd,
The archbishop.

Hot. Of York, is't not?

Wor. 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.

Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do
well.

North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still
let'st slip.

Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble
plot:

And then the power of Scotland, and of York,-
To join with Mortimer, ha?

Wer. And so they shall.

Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head: 1
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.
Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on
him.

Wor. Cousin, farewell:-No further go in

SCENE I.-Rochester.-An Inn Yard. Enter a CARRIER, with a Lantern in his hand.

1 Car. Heigh ho! An't 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!

Ost. [Within.] Anon, anon.

1 Car. I pry'thee Tom, beat Cut's
put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is
wrung in the withers out of all cess. t

Enter another CARRIER.

2 Car. Pease and beans are as dank here as
a dog, and that is the next way to give poor
down, since Robin ostler died.
jades the bots: this house is turned upside

1 Car. Poor fellow; never joyed since the
price of oats rose; it was the death of him.

2 Car. I think this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a tench.¶

1 Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.

2 Cur. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jorden, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach. **

1 Car. What, ostler! come away and be hanged, come away.

2 Car. I have a gammon of bacon, and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing.

1 Car. 'Odsbody! the turkies in my pannier are quite starved.-What, ostler !-A plague on an eye in thy head? thee! hast thou never canst not hear? An 'twere not as good a deed as drink, to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain.-Come, and be hanged:-Hast no faith in thee?

What's

1 Car. I think it be two o'clock. Gads. 1 pr'ythee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.

1 Car. Nay, soft, I pray ye; I know a trick worth two of that, i'faith.

Gads. I pr'ythee lend me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? canst tell ?-Lend me thy lantern, quoth a 3-marry, I'll see thee hanged first.

Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?

2 Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee.-Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen; they will along with company, for they have great charge. [Exeunt CARRIERS.

Gads. What ho! chamberlain ! Cham. [Within.] At hand, quoth pick-purse. ++ Gads. 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 lay'st the plot how.

It

Cham. Good morrow, master Gadsbill. 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.

The constellation Ursa major. 6 Wet. 1 Measure. Name of his horse., Spotted like a tench. Worms. A small fish supposed to breed fless. ++ A proverb, from the pick-purse being always ti Freeholder.

ready.

Gads. Sirrab, if they meet not with saint] afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains Nicholas' clerks, I'll give thee this neck. know it well enough: A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true to one another! [They whistle.] Whew!-A plague upou you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged.

P. Hen. Peace, ye fat guts! lie down lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thos canst hear the tread of travellers.

Fal. 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 ?

P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

Fal. I pr'ythee, good prince Hal, help me to my horse; good king's son.

P. Hen. Out, you rogue! shall I be your ostler!

Fal. Go, hang thyself in thy 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,

Cham. What, the commonwealth their boots ? I hate it. will she hold out water in foul way?

Gads. She will, she will; justice hath li qnored her. We steal us in a castle, cocksure; we have the re eipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

Cham. Nay, by my faith! I think you are more beholden to the night than to fern-seed, for your walking invisible.

Guds. Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true man.

Cham. Nay, rather let me have it as you are a false thief.

Gads. Go to; Homo is a common name to all min. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.

Scene III.

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

Re-enter Prince HENRY and POINS. P. Hen. The thieves have bound the true men: Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good

'est for ever.

Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming.
Re-enter Thieves.

Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and An the prince and then to borse before day. Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring; there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild duck. P. Hen. Your money. Poins. Villains. [As they are sharing, the PRINCE and FALSTAFF, after POINS set upon them. a blow or two, and the rest, run away. leaving their booty behind them.] P. Hen. Got with much ease. to borse :

[Rushing out upon them.

Now merrily The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear

So strongly, that they dare not meet each other:
Fach takes bis fellow for an officer.
Awar, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along :
Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Warkworth.-A Room in the
Castle.

Enter HOTSPUR, reading a Letter.
But, for mine own part, my lord, I
could be well contented to be there, in res-
pect 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
The purpose
boase. Let me see some more.
you undertake is dangerous;-Why, that's cer-
tain; '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
fall of expectation: an excellent plot, very good
What a frosty-spirited rogue is this?
Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and
'Zounds, an
the general course of the action.
1 were now by this rascal, I could brain him
Is there not my father,
with his lady's fan.
ay uncle, and myself? lord Edward Mortimer,
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
a pagan
them, set forward already? What
rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see
now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart,
will be to the king, and lay open all our pro-
ceedings. 0 I could divide myself, and go to
buffets, for moving such a dish of skimmed
milk with so honourable an action! Hang bim!
let bim tell the king: We are prepared: I will
set for mard to-night.

friends.

How

Enter Lady PERCY.

Bow, Kate? I must leave you within

these two hours.

Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus

alone?

For what offence have I, this fortnight, been

• Fattens.

thee

393

A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth;
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy
cheeks;

And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars :
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage !-to the field! And thou hast
talk'd

Of sallies and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin;
Of prisoners' 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 bestir'd thee in the sleep,
That beads of sweat bave stood upon thy
brow,

Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream:
[breath
pear'd,
And in thy face strange motions have ap
men restrain their
Such as
see when
On some great sudden haste. O what por-
tents are these?

we

Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else be loves me not.
Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet
gone?

Enter SERVANT.

Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago. Hot. Hath Butler brought these horses from the sheriff?

Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even

now.

Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv. It is, my lord.

Hot. That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance ! +—
[Exit SERVANT.
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

Lady. But hear you, my lord.
Hot. What say'st, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away
Hot. My horse,

My love, my horse.

Lady. 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,
Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
To line his enterprize; But if you go-
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer
Directly to this question that I ask.
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
Hot. Away,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

Well, do not then; for, since you love me not,
will not love myself. Do you not love me ?
Nay, tell me, if you speak in jest or no.
Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o'horse-back, 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 further wise,
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are;
But yet a woman and for secresy,
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!
Lady. How! so far?

Fran. Anon, Sir. Pray you, stay a little my lord.

P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis: For the sugar thou gavest me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not?

Fran. O lord, Sir! I would it had been two.
P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand

Hot. Not an inch farther. But hark you, pound; ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt

SCENE IV.-Eastcheap-A Room in the
Boar's Head Tavern.

Enter Prince HENRY and POINS.
P. Hen. Ned, pr'ythee come out of that fat
room, and lend ine thy hand to laugh a little.
Poins. Where hast been, Hal?

have it.

Poins. [Within.] Francis!
Fran. Anon, anon.

P. Hen. Anou, Francis? No, Francis: bat to-morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt, Bat, Francis,

Fran. My lord?

P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanishpouch,

Fran. O lord, Sir, who do you mean?

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

P. Hen. 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.

Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRAN.] My lord, old Sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in!

P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard ® is amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have your only drink; for, look you, Francis, your sounded the very base string of humility. Sir-white canvass doublet will sully: in Barbary, rah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; Sir, it cannot come to so much. and can tell them all by their Christian names, Fran. What, Sir? as-Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the 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, dying 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 au 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 action. But, sweet Ned,-to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now in 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 pr'ythee do thou stand in some byroom, while I question my puny drawer, to what end be gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling-Francis, that his tale to me may be nothing but-anon. Etep aside, and I'll show thee a precedent.

Poins. Francis !

P. Hen. Thou art perfect.
Poins. Francis !

Enter FRANCIS.

P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Erit VINTNER.] Poins!

Re-enter POINS.

Poins. Anon, anon, Sir.

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

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

P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that have show'd themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter FRANCIS with Wine.] What's o'clock, Francis! Fran. Anon, anon, Sir ?

P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman!-His industry is-up-stairs, and down[Erit POINS. stairs; 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

Fran. Anon, anon, Sir,-Look down into the dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, Pomegranate, Ralph.

P. Hen. Come hither, Francis.

Fran. My lord.

and says to his wife,-Fie upon this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to day? Give my

P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Fran-roan horse a drench, says he; and answers,

cis ?

Fran. Forsooth, five year, and as much as to-
Porns. [Within.] Francis!
Fran. Anon, anon, Sir.

P. Hen. Five years! by'rlady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indenture, and to show it a fair pair of heels, and run from it?

Fran. O lord, Sir! I'll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heartPoins. Within.] Francis!

Some fourteen; an hour after, a trife, a
trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play
Percy, and that dainned brawn shall play dare
Mortimer, his wife. Rivo, says the drunkard.
Call in ribs, call in tallow.

Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and

PETO.

Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thos been?

Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen! Give the a

• A sweet wine.

KING HENRY IV.

395

fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged
creature.

Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered
some of them.

Scene IV. FIRST PART OF cup of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards 1-Give me a cap of sack, rogne.-Is there no virtue exFal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have and [He drinks. tant? P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have dish of butter? pitiful hearted Titan, that melt-paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee ed at the sweet tale of the son! if thou didst, what, Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward;then behold that compound. here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me.-

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

P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you?

Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales!

P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter!

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

Poins. Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me
coward, I'll stab thee.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned
ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thou-
sand 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
A plague upon such
backing of your friends?
backing! give me them that will face me.-Give
me a cup of sack :-I am a rogue, if I drunk
to-day.

P. Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped
since thou drunk'st last.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that
begets them; gross as a mountain, opeu, palpa-
ble. Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-
Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cow-pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tal-
[He drinks.
ards, still say I.

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

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack ? where is it?
Pal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hun-
dred upon poor four of us.

P. Hen. What, a hundred, man?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at halfsword with a dozen of them two hours together. 1 bave 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four, through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man; all would not do. A plague of all cowards 1-Let them speak: if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of dark

P. Hen. Speak, Sirs; how was it?
Gads. We four set upon some dozen,-
Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord.
Gads. And bound them.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound.
Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every
man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew
Jew

Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven
fresh roen set upon us,--

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

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and

Stockings.

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin : this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you horse-back-breaker, this buge bill of flesh;dried neat's-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stockfish,-O for breath to utter what is like thee! -you tailor's yard you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck ;-

P. Hen. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base Poins. Mark, Jack. comparisons, hear me speak but this.

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth; (mark now, how plain a tale shall put you down,) then did we two set on you four, and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house :-and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and ever I heard a bull-calf. What a slave art thou, roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then