Imatges de pÓgina
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Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras,] The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes; and snorting like a horse. The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds

P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: Search his pockets. [POINS searches.] What hast thou found!

Were strangely clamorous to the frighted

fields.

Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord.

P. Hen. Let's see what they be read them.
Poins. Iten, A capon, 2s. 2d.
Item, Sauce 4d.

Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.
Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
em, Bread, a halfpenny.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half pennyworth 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 I'il the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, bis death will be a march of twelvescore. The money shall be paid back again with advantage. He with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins.

Pons. Good morrow, good my lord. [Exeunt.

I will to dinner.

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can I; or so can any man: But will they come when you do call for them! Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to comThe devil. (mand Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil.SCENE I.-Bangor.-A Room in the Arch- If thou have power to raise him, bring him deacon's House. hither,

ACT III.

And I'll be sworn I have power to shame bim bence.

Oh!

while you live, tell truth and shame the devil.

Mort. Come, come,

No more of this unprofitable chat.

Glend. Three times hath Heury Bolingbroke
made head

Against my power: thrice from the banks of
Wye,

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and
GLENDOWER.

Mort. These promises are fair, the parties

sure,

And our induction full of prosperous hope.
Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down?--

And, uncle Worcester :-A plague upon it!
I have forgot the map.

Glend. 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.

Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears
Owen Glendower spoke of.

Glend. 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
Shak'd like a coward.

Hot. Why, so it would have done
At the same season, if your mother's cat had
But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been
born.

Glen. I say the earth did shake when I was born.

my

Hot. And I say the earth was not of nind, If you suppose, as fearing you it shook. Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

Hot. Oh! then the earth shook to see the hea-
vens 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,
[down
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples:
Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth,
Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
In passion shook.

Glend. Cousin, of many men

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
To tell you once again, that, at my birth,

These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
And all the courses of my life do show,

I am not in the roll of common meu.
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?
Aud 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.

Hot. I think there is no man speaks better
Welsh:-

• Beginning. + Lights set cross ways upon beacons and also upon poles, which were used in procession, &c. ¿ Tumbles.

And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him.
Bootless home, and weather-beaten back,
Hot. Home without boots, and in foal wea
ther too!

How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name!
Glend. Come, here's the map: Shall we di-
vide our right,
According to our three-fold order ta'en?

Mort. 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,)
To-morrow, cousin Perey, you and I,
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth,
To meet your father and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
Nor shall we need his help these fourteen
days :-
Within that space, [To GLEND.] you may have
drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentle-

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FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

399

In strange concealments; valiant as a lion,
And wond'rous affable; and as bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himself even of his natural scope,
When you do cross his humour; faith, he
does :

Scene I.

A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.

I'll bave 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.

Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must: you see
it doth.
Mort. Yea,

I warrant you, that man is not alive,

Might so have tempted him as you have done

But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
But mark how he bears his course, and runs Without the taste of danger and reproof;

Wor. 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

me up

With like advantage on the other side;
Gelding the opposed continent as much,
As on the other side it takes from you.
Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him

here,

And on this north side win this cape of land;
And then be runs straight and even.

Hot. I'll have it so; a little charge will do it.
Glend. I will not have it alter'd.
Hot. Will not you?

Glend. No, nor you shall not.
Hot. Who shall say me nay?
Glend. Why, that will I.

Hot. Let me not understand it then,
Speak it in Welsh.

Beguiling them of commendation.
Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as Upon the beauty of all parts besides,

you:
For I was train'd up in the English court:
Where, being but young, I framed to the harp
Many an Euglish ditty, lovely well,

And gave the tongue a helpful ornament;
A virtue that was never seen in you.

Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my
beart;

I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew,
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers:
I had rather hear a brazen caustick + turn'd,
Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry;
'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.

Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be
your speed!

Here comes our wives, and let us take our
leave.

Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
Hot. I do not care; I'll give thrice so much
land

To any well-deserving friend;

Bat, in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a bair.
Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?
Giend. 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.

me,

My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part
with you,
She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
Mort. Good father tell her, that she and my
aunt Percy,
Shall follow in your conduct speedily
[GLENDOWER speaks to his Daughter in
Welsh, and she answers him in the

same.

[Exit.

Mort. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my
father!

Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers

dious

As is a tired horse, a railing wife;
Worse

Re-enter GLENDOWER, with the LADIES.
Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers

me,

With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies;
And of a dragon and a finless fish,

A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,
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, but last night, at least nine
hours,

Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish self-
will'd harlotry.
One no persuasion caù do good upon.

[Lady M. speaks to MORTIMER in Welsh.
Mort. I understand thy looks that pretty
Welsh
heavens,
Which thou pourest down from these swelling

I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
In such a parley would I answer thee.
[Lady M. speaks.
I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
But I will never be a truant, love,
And that's a feeling disputation:

Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy
tongue

Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
With ravishing division, to her lute.

Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run
[Lady M. speaks again.
mad.
Mort. Oh! I am ignorance itself in this.
Glend. She bids you
Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness;
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
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.

Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear
her sing:

By that time will our book, † I think, be drawn.
Glend. Do so;

And those musicians that shall play to you,

• Escort.

† Our paper of conditions.

In reckoning up the several devils' names,
That were his lackeys: I cried, humph,-and
well,-go to,-
But mark'd him not a word. Oh! he's as te-

than a smoky house :-I had rather
live

With cheese and garlic, in a windmill, far,
Toan feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
in any summer-bouse in Christendom.

+ Candlestick. The writer of the articles.

Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited

• Corner

Hang in the air a thousand leagues from
hence;
Yet straight they shall be here: sit, and at-
tend.

Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: Come, quick, quick; that I may lay my head in thy lap.

Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose.
GLENDOWER speaks some Welsh words, and
then the Music plays.

Hot. Now I perceive the devil understands
Welsh :

And 'tis no marvel he's so humorous.
By'r lady, he's a good musician.

Lady P. 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.

Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach,

howl in Irish.

Lady P. Would'st thou have

head

broken 1

thy

Hot. No.

Lady P. Then be stil!.

Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault.
Lady P. Now God help thee!
Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed.
Lady P. What's that?
Hot. Peace! she sings.

A Welsh SONG sung by Lady M. Hot. Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. Lady P. Not mine, in good sooth. Hot. Not your's, 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 giv'st such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, As if thou never walk'dst further than Fins bury. +

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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.

• Hound.

Lady P. I will not sing.

Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; and so come in when ye will. [Exit. Glend. Come, come, lord Mortimer; you are as slow, As hot lord Percy is on fire to go.

As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to,
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart!
K. Hen. So please your majesty, I would I
could

And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
And dress'd myself in such humility,
That I did pluck allegiance from men's bearts,
Loud shouts aud 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 bavini wi's,
Soon kindled, and soon burn'd: carded his

state;
Mingled his royalty with capering fools;

By this our book's drawn; we'll but seal, and Had his great name profaned with their scorus;

then

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 cominou sterts,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:
That being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey; and begau
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a

+ In Moorfields. 1 The finery of cockies.

Quit all offences with as clear excuse,
As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge
Myself of many I am charg'd withal:
Yet such extenuation let me beg,
As, in reproof of many tales devis'd,
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,
thanks and base newsmon-
By smiling pic

gers,

I may, for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.

K. Hen. God pardon thee !—yet let me won
der, 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 does fore-think 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 ; †
Aud 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, That is he
Others would say,-Where? which is Boling-
broke?

To horse immediately.

Mort. With all my heart.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-London.-A Room in the Palace.
Enter King HENRY, Prince of WALES, and
Lords.

K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the prince of
Wales and 1,
Must have some 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 When it shines seldom in admiring eyes :

Such as is bent on sun-like majesty

me:

But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids
down,

Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries;
Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and

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 mis-treadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean
attempts.
Such barren pleasures, rude society,

full.

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,

And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou:
For thou hast lost thy princely privilege,

Officious parasites.

True to him that had then possession of the crown ! Brushwood. $ Rival. ¡ Pensca

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

Scene II.

With vile participation; not an eye
But is a-weary of thy common sight,
Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee

Be more myself.

K. Hen. For all the world,

As thou art to this hour, was Richard then,
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg;
And even as I was then, is Percy now.
Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to the state,
Than thou, the shadow of succession:
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?

more;

Which now doth that I would not have it do,
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

P. Hen. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust,
lord,

herein.

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.
K. Hen. A hundred thousand rebels die in
this :-

Thrice bath this Hotspur Mars in swathing clothes,

This infant warrior, in his enterprizes,
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, Northum-
berland,

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 court'sy at his frowns,
To show how much degenerate thou art.

P. Hen. Do not think so, you shall not find
it so;
And God forgive them, that have so much
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 with a bloody mask,
Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame
with it.

- Armony.

Enter BLUNT.

How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of
speed.

Blunt. So hath the business that I come to
speak of.

Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,
That Douglas and the English rebels met,
The eleventh of this month, at Shrewsbury:
A mighty and a fearful head they are,
If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer'd foul play in a state.

K. Hen. The earl of Westmoreland set forth
to-day;

With him my son, lord John of Lancaster;
For this advertisement is five days old :-
On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set
we ourselves
Forward; on Thursday,

march:

+ Combine.

401

Our meeting is Bridgnorth: and, Harry, you
Shall march through Glostershire; by which

account,

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,
multitudes; and on
"Would they were

my
bead
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 1 will tear the reckoning from his heart
This, in the name of God, I promise here:
le which, if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
I do beseech your majesty, may salve

Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.
Our business valued, some twelve days hence
Our hands are full of business: let's away;
Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.

will

[Exeunt. SCENE III.-Eastcheap.-A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern.

Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.

Fal. 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 old lady's loose gown; I am wither'd like an old apple-John. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have An I have not forgotten no strength to repent. what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse; the inside of a church! Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.

Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.

a

Fal. Why, there is it :-come, sing nie I was as virbawdy song; make me merry. tuously given, as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough: swore little; diced, not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house, not above once in a quarter-of an hour; paid money that I borrowed, three or four times; live out of all order, out of all compass. lived well, and in good compass: and now I

Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass; out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.

Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: Thou art our admiral, thon bearest the lantern in the poop,-but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the knight of the burning lamp.

Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.

Fal. 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: but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy

1 Most fatal.

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face, the son of utter darkness. When thou ran'st up Gads hill 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 sav'd me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me, would have bought me lights as good cheap, at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintain'd that salamander of your's with fire, any time this two and thirty years; Heaven reward me for it!

Bard. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!

Fal. 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?

Host. 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.

Fal. You lie, hostess; Bardolph was shaved, and lost many 3 hair: and I'll be sworn, my pocket was picked: Go to, you are a woman, go.

Host. Who, I? I defy thee: I was never called so in mine own house before.

Fal. Go to, I know you well enough.

Host. 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. Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas; I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.

P. Hen. What didst thou lose, Jack ? Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal: three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a sealring of my grandfather's.

P. Hen. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say so: And, my lord, be speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is: and said he would cudgel you. P. Hen. What! he did not ?

Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

Fal. 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.

Host. Say, what thing? what thing?

Fal. What thing? why a thing to thank God on.

Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's wife; and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

Enter Prince HENRY and POINS, marching. FALSTAFF meets the PRINCE, playing on his truncheon like a fife.

Fal. How now, lad? is the wind in that door i'faith? must we all march ?

Fal. Did I, Bardolph ?

Host. 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. Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay.

0

Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
Fat. Yea; if he said my ring was copper.
P. Hen. I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as
good as thy word now?

Host. Het alas, he is poor; he hath no thing.

Fal. 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 the lion's whelp.

Fal. 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 ease in mine iun, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of iny grandfather's worth forty mark.

P. Hen. And why not, as the lion?

Fal. 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!

Host. O Jesu! I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was P. Hen. Oh! if it should, how would thy guts copper. fall about thy knees! But, sirrab, there's no

Fal. How the prince is a Jack, a sneak-room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom cup; and if he were here, I would cudgel him of thine; it is filled up with guts and midlike a dog, if he would say so. riff. Charge an honest woman with picking bossed + rascal, if there were any thing in th thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent empocket 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 it; you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou not ashamed?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.--You contess then, you picked my pocket?

Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion?
Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me.

P. Hen. What sayest thou, mistress Quickly How does thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest man.

Host. Say what beast, thou knave, thou?
Fal. What beast? why an otter.

P. Hen. An otter, Sir John? why an otter! Fal. Why she's neither fish nor flesh, 1 man knows not where to have her.

Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou!

t In the story-book of Reynard the Fox. • A term of contempt frequently used by Shakspeare.

Host. Good my lord, hear me. Fal. Pr'ythee let her alone, and list to me. P. Hen. What sayest thou, Jack? Fal. The other night I fell asleep here be hind the arras, and had my pocket picked: this house is turned bawdy-house, they pick pockets.

P. Hen. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.

Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you owed him a thousand pound.

P. Hen Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou owest une thy love.

Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would cudgel you.

P. Hen. It appears so by the story.
Pul. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make

dancers.

A man dressed like a woman, who attends merria + Swoln.

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