I'd have him poison'd with a pot of ale.
Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you,
When you are better temper'd to attend.
North. Why, what a wasp-tongue and impa
tient fool

Art thou, to break into this woman's mood;
7-Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own?
Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd
with rods,

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 murd'rous 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,
And 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,-
Wor.
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 advent'rous spirit,
As to o'erwalk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. [place?-
In Richard's time,-What do yon call the
A plague upon't;-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,
When you and he came back from Ravenspurg.
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 to age,
And-gentle Harry Percy,-and, kind cousin,-
O, the devil take such cozeners!God forgive

me!

sons,

Hot. If he fall in, good night:-or sink or Which I shall send you written,-be assur'd,

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.
North. Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
Hot. By heaven, methinks, it were an easy
leap,

[moon;
To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd
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-fac'd fellowship!

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend.-
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
Hot. I cry you mercy.
Wor.
That are your prisoners,-
Hot.

Those same noble Scots,

I'll keep them all; By heaven, 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.

Wor.

You start away,

And lend no ear unto my purposes.-
Those prisoners you shall keep.
Hot.

Will easily be granted.-You, my lord,-
[To Northumberland.
Your son in Scotland being thus employed,-
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 afoot, thou still let'st
slip.
[plot:-
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but he a noble
And then the power of Scotland, and of York,-
To join with Mortimer, ha?
Wor.
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;
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

Nay, I will; that's flat:-To make us strangers to his looks of love.
Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on

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.

Wor.

Cousin; a word.

Hear you,

Hot. 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,]

him.

Wor. 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

2 Car. Pease 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.

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 villanous 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 have been since the first cock.

I

2 Car. 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 Cross.

1 Cur. 'Odsbody! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved.-What, ostler 1-A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? 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? Enter Gadshill.

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

I 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 7-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 can-
dle, 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.

Gads. What talk'st thou to me of the hang man? 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's 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 landrakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers; none of these mad, mustachio, purple-hued maltworms: 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 I lie; for they pray continu ally 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.

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

Gads She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, cock-sure; we have the receipt 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.

Gads. 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 men. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Road by Gadshill.
Enter Prince Henry, and Poins; Bardolph and
Peto, at some distance.

Poins. Come, shelter, shelter: 1 have removed
Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gummed
velvet.
P. Hen. Stand close.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal; What
a brawling dost thou keep?
Fal. Where's Poins, Hal?

P. Hen. He is walked up to the top of the hill; I'll go seek him. [Pretends to seek Poins. Fal. 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 squire 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 have 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, Cham. Good morrow, master Gadshill. It to turn true man, and leave these rogues, I am 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.

Enter Chamberlain.

Gads. Sirah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

the veriest varlet that ever chew'd 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't, when thieves cannot be true to one another! [They whistle.] Whew!-A plague upon 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 thou Cham. No, I'll none of it: I pr'ythee, keep canst hear the tread of travellers. that for the hangman; for, I know, thou wor- Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, ship'st Saint Nicholes as truly as a man of false-being down? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own hood may. 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,-I Enter Gadshill.

hate it.

tavern.

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

P. Hen. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower; if they 'scape from your encounter, then they light on us.

Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight, or ten.

Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?

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

P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof.
Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind
the hedge; when thou needest him, there thou
shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.
Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be
banged.

P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins. Here, hard by; stand close.

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

Enter Travellers.

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

Thieves. Stand.

Trav. Jesu bless us!

Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats; Ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; fleece them.

1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours,

for ever.

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves: Are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would, your store were here! On, bacons, on! What' ye knaves? young men must live: You are grand jurors are ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith.

[Exeunt Fal. &c. driving the Travellers out.

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

ever.

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

Fal. Come, 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 a wild duck.

behind them.

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily
to horse:

The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear
So strongly, that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Wer't not for laughing, 1 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 respect of the love I bear your house. He could be contented,-Why is he not then? In the 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 the action. 'Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself? Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, 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 skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king; We are prepared: I will set forward to-night.

two hours.

alone?

Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus
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-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, culveria;

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 haste. O, what portents
are these?

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

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

Poins. Where hast been, Hal?

P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the very base string of humility. Sirrah, 1 am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their Christian names, asTom, 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 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 action. But, sweet Ned,-to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'd even now !-into my hand by an under-skinker; one that never spake other English in his life, thanEight shillings and sixpence, and-You are welcome; with his shrill addition, Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon, or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Fal staff come, I pr'ythee, 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.

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, 1 will back him straight; O esperance
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

[Exit Servant.

Lady. But hear you, my lord.
Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away?
Hot. Why, 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,
To line his enterprise: But if you go

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I ask.

In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
Hot. 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.-Gods me, my
horse!-

What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou
have with me?

Lady. 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.
Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o' 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 further 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 !
Lady. How! so far?

Hot. Not an inch farther. But hark you, Kate;
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
Today will I set forth, to-morrow you.-
Will this content you, Kate?
Lady.
It must, of force.
[Exeunt.

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 me thy hand to laugh a little.

Poins. Francis!

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

Enter Francis.

[Exit Poins.

Fran. Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph.

P. Hen. Come hither, Francis.

Fran. My lord.

P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Fran. Forsooth, five year, and as much as to-
Poins. [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!

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis?

Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I shall be

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

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
pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt
have it.

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

P. Hen. Anon, Francis? No, Francis: but to-morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Fran cis,

Fran. My lord?

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

Fran. O lord, sir, who do

you mean 3

P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink: for, look you, Francis, your white canvass doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. Fran. What, sir?

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear hem call?

[Here they both call him; the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go. Enter Vintner.

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 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 Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st backing! give me them that will face me.such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit Give me a cup of sack;-I am a rogue, if I Fran. My lord, old sir John, with half a dozen drunk to-day. more, are at the door; Shall I let them in ? P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit 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 hark ye; What cunning match have you made with this jest of a 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 7 Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

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

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

P. Hen. What's the matter?
Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us
here have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.
P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it?
Fal. 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 half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four, through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man: all would not P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have do. A plague of all cowards!-let them speak; fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a if they speak more or less than truth, they are woman!-His industry is-up-stairs, and down-villains, and the sons of darkness. 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 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 to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow.

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 men set upon us,

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

P. Hen. What, fought you with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all: but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legaged creature.

Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto. Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and 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 A plague of all cowards !-Give me a cup of sack, rogue.-Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful-hearted butter, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! if thou didst, then behold that compound.

too.

Fal. 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: 4 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!

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

Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two 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 1 lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, P. Hen. What, four? thou saidst but two, even now.

Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now.

Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits.
Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall
have more anon.

Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?
P. Hen, Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to.
These nine in buckram, that I told thee of,
P. Hen. So, two more already.
Fal. Their points being broken, ------