Did lately meet in the intestine shock Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb To chase these pagans in those holy fields Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd But this our purpose now is twelve month old, West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, By those Welshwomen done as may not be Without much shame retold or spoken of. King. It seems then that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy Land. West. This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news Came from the north and thus it did import: At Holmedon met, Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; And shape of likelihood, the news was told; 20 30 40 50 For he that brought them, in the very heat King. Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, 60 Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, And is not this an honourable spoil? A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? West. In faith, It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. 70 King. Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, Which he in this adventure hath surprised, To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. West. This is his uncle's teaching: this is Worcester, Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up King. But I have sent for him to anwer this; Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we 80 90 100 For more is to be said and to be done Than out of anger can be uttered. West. I will, my liege. [Excunt. SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? Prince. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wandering knight so fair." And, I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God save thy grace,-majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none, Prince. What, none? 20 Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. Prince. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us that are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon; and let men say we bo men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. Prince. Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing “Lay by" and spent with crying "Bring in;" now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou sayest true, 'ad. hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? And is not my Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? 49 Fal. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? Prince. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft. Prince. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? 59 Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. *Prince. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent-But, I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. Prince. No; thou shalt. 70 Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. Prince. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hang man. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. Prince. For obtaining of suits? 80 Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whercof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. Prince. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. Prince. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. 100 Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over: by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain: I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. 110 Prince. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Fal. 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain and baffle me. Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Enter POINS. Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried Stand" to a true man. Prince. Good morrow, Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg? 129 Prince. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs: he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. Prince. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards for you all; you have horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hanged. Fal. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? Prince. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. 150 Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fel |