.

Poins. Down fell their hose.

Fal. 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.

P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

the court at door, would speak with you: he says he comes from your father.

P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother.

Fal. What manner of man is he?
Host. An old man.

Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at mid-
night?-Shall I give him his answer?
P. Hen. 'Pr'y thee do, Jack.

Fal. 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 could'st not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father that Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. [Erit. begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpa- P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r lady, you fought fair; ble. Why, thou clay-brained guts: thou knotty--so did you, Peto;-so did you, Bardolph; pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tal- you are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, low-keech,you will not touch the true prince, no,-fie! Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others ran. P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, How came Falstaff's sword so hacked?

Ful. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou could'st not see thy hand? come, tell us your reason; What sayest thou to this?

Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I 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 plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin: this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh; Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish, -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 comparisons, hear me speak but this.. Poins. Mark, Jack.

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.

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear. grass, to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our garments with it, and to 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.

P. Hen. 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 hast fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it?

Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do
you behold these exhalations?
P. Hen. I do.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.
Re-enter Falstaff.

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 Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. four: and, with a word, outfaced you from your How now, my sweet creature of bombast? How prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own here in the house:-and, Falstaff, you carried knee?

your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dex- Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy terity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the 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 ?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should 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 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 to-night, pray to-morrow. 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 ?

P. Hen. Content ;-and the argument shall be, thy running away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest

me.

Enter Hostess.

Host. My lord the prince, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess ? what say'st thou to me?

Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of

waist; 1 could have crept into an 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 Amaimon 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?

Poins. O, Glendower.

Fal. Owen, Owen; the same;-and his sonin-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill perpendicular. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it.

P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.

P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running?

Fal. O' horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct.

Fal. 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 mackarel.

P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month? buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou hundreds. stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. 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. P. Hen. Well, here I am set.

Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like, we shall have good trading that way. But, tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly 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 not thou horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it

P. Hen. Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly ehid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.

Fal. And here I stand :-judge, my masters.
P. Hen. Now, Harry? whence come you?
Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are
grievous.

Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false:-nay,
I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i' faith.
P. Hen. Swear'st thou, ungracious boy? hence-

P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and exa-forth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently car. mine me upon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I content:-This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.

ried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that thy golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag precious rich crown, for a pitiful bald crown! of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give gray iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack that it may be thought I have wept: for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein..

P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.

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,

Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, but in nothing?
nobility.

Host. This is excellent sport, i' faith.
Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling
tears are vain.

Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance!

Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen,

For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Host. O rare he doth it as like one of these harlotry players, as I ever see.

Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you; Whom means your grace?

P. Hen. That villanous abominable misleader
of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
Fal. My lord, the man I know.
P. Hen. I know, thou dost.

Fal. 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. Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle- If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the brain-Harry, I do not only marvel where thou wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then spendest thy time, but also how thou art accom- many an old host that I know, is damned: it panied for though the camomile, the more it to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins; but for thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therevillanous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hang fore more valiant, being as he is, old Jack Faling of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If staff, banish not him thy Harry's company; then thou be son to me, here lies the point; banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. Why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? P. Hen. I do, I will. [A knocking heard. Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son 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.

P. Hen. What manner of man, an it like your majesty'?

[Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph.

Re-enter Bardolph, running. Bard, O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door. Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play; 1 have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

Re-enter Hostess, hastily.

Host. O Jesu, my lord! my lord!— Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: What's the matter? Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house; Shall I let them in?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold, a counterfeit thou art essentially mad, without seeming so.

P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct.

Fal. A good 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 threescore: And now I remember me, his name is Falstaff; Fal. 1 deny your major: if you will deny the if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth sheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If not a cart as well as another man, a plague on then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be fruit oy the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, strangled with a halter as another. there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, P. Hen. Go hide thee behind the arras;-the

P. Hen. 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 to-morrow dinner time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withal:
And so let me entreat you leave the house.
Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
P. Hen. It may be so; if he have robb'd these

men,

He shall be answerable; and so, farewell.
Sher. Good night, my noble lord.

P. Hen. I think it is good morrow: Is it not?
Sher. Indeed my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
[Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier.
P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as
Paul's. Go, call him forth.

Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse.

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

Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord.

P. Hen Let's see what they be read them.
Poins. Item, A capon, 28. 2d.

Item, Sauce, 4d.

Item, Sack, two gallons, 58. 8d.

Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
Item, Bread, a halfpenny.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one halfpenny-
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, Poins.
Poins. Good morrow, good my lord. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Bangor.

A Room in the Archdeacon's House. Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer, and

Glendower.

Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure, And our induction full of prosperous hope.

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.
Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was
born.

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

Hot. 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 colick pinch'd and vex'd
By the imprisoning of unruly wind

Within her womb; which, for enlargement

striving,

Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down
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,
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.
Hot. I think, there is no man speaks better
Welsh:-

I'll 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 them7
Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to com-
mand

The devil.

Hot. 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.
Mort. Come, come,

No more of this unprofitable chat.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke
made head

Against my power: thrice from the banks of
Wye,

Hot. Lord Mortimer,-and cousin Glen-And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him,

dower,

Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.
Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather
too!

How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?
Glend. Come, here's the map: Shall we divide

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 assigned:
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 seal'd interchangeably,
(A business that this night may execute,)
'To-morrow, cousin Perev, 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

men.

Glend. 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.
Hot. 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.

Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must; you see
it doth.

Mort. Yea,

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

Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me,
With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies;
And of a dragon, and a finless fish,

A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,
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,
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. O, he's as tedious
As is a tir'd horse, a railing wife:
Worse than a smoky house;-1 had rather live
With cheese and garlick, in windmill, far,
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any summer-house in Christendom.

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

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.

But mark, how he bears his course, and runs You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:

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 he 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 you then,|

Speak it in Welsh.

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.

Hot. 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.
Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me,-

Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as 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.
[Glend. speaks to his Daughter in Welsh, and
she answers him in the same.
Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish set-
will'd harlotry,

One that no persuasion can do good upon.

[Lady M. speaks to Mortimer in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh

Which thou pourest down from these swelling

heavens,

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,
And that's a feeling disputation:
But I will never be a truant, love,
Till I have learned thy language: for thy tongne
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penud,
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 mad
[Lady M. speaks again

Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this.
Glend. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay But thou dost, in thy passages of life,

He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;

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

By that tine will our book, I think, be drawn.
Glend. 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.
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 Musick plays.
Hot. Now I perceive, the devil understands
Welsh;

And 'tis no marvel, he's so humourous.
Brady, he's a good musician.

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
An Irish

Lady P. Would'st thou have thy head broken?
Hot. No.

Lady P. Then be still.

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 yours, in good sooth! 'Heart, yon
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 Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady, as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath; and leave in sooth,
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
To velvet guards, and Sunday-citizens.
Come, sing.

Lady P. I will not sing.

Hot. "Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. And 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.

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?
P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would
could

Quit ali 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,-
By smiling pick-thanks and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true, wherein my yout
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 thon 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 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 Boling-
broke?

And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
And dress'd myself in such humility,
That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Lond 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 burn'd: carded his state;
Mingled his royalty with carping fools;
Had his great name profaned with their scorns;
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at jibing boys, and stand the push

By this our book's drawn; we'll but seal, and Of every beardless vain comparative :

then

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 sunlike majesty,
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes:
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eyelids

down,

Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries;