At large discoursed in this paper here. [Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Enter Fitzwater. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely, Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Enter Percy, with the Bishop of Carlisle. With clog of conscience and sour melancholy, More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; Enter Exton, with Attendants bearing a coffin. Exton. Great king, within this coffin I pre sent Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, And never show thy head by day nor light. March all one way, and be no more oppos'd [tion, A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. In envy that my lord Northumberland you, coz, To chase these pagans, in those holy fields. K. Hen. It seems, then, that the tidings of Brake off our business for the Holy Land. gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; And shape of likelihood, the news was told : Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; : West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer Palace. Enter Prince Henry and Falstaff. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. 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 flamecolour'd 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: [news. 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 pr'ythee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say, for grace thou wilt have none,) Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see P. Hen. What! none? Fai. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. 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 Fal. Thou hast the most unsavory similes, beauty: let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen and art, indeed, the most comparative, rasof the shade, minions of the moon; and let callest,-sweet young prince,-but, Hal, I men say, we be men of good government, pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and would to God, thou and I knew where a comchaste mistress the moon, under whose coun-modity of good names were to be bought. An tenance we steal. 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. P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? P. Hen. 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, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? 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? P. Hen. 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. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due; thou hast paid all there. P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit, P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. 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. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking. Enter Poins, at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal! 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!-Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a watch.-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. P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. here apparent that thou art heir apparent,— says monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John but, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gal-Sack-and-Sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil lows standing in England when thou art king? and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him and resolution thus fobbed, as it is, with the on Good-Friday last, for a cup of Madeira and rusty curb of old father antick, the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. P. Hen. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well: and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. P. Hen. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear P. Hen. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. a cold capon's leg? What P. Hen. 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. P. Hen. 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 visors 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? [my faith. P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. [madcap. P. Hen. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a Fal. Why, that's well said. [home. P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor, then, when thou art king. P. Hen. I care not. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. ties he endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest. P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while The unyok'd humour of your idleness: come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of per- So, when this loose behaviour I throw off, suasion, and him the ears of profiting, that And pay the debt I never promised, what thou speakest may move, and what he By how much better than my word I am, hears may be believed, that the true prince may By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; (for recreation sake) prove a false thief: for And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, the poor abuses of the time want countenance. My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Farewell you shall find me in Eastcheap. Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes, P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Fare-Than that which hath no foil to set it off. well, All-hallown summer! I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; [Exit Falstaff. Redeeming time, when men think least I will. Palace. [Exit. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow: I have a jest to exe-SCENE III.-London. Another Room in the cute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid; yourself Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Worand I will not be there; and when they have cester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt, and others. the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and this head from my shoulders. Unapt to stir at these indignities, [temperate, And you have found me; for, accordingly, You tread upon my patience: but, be sure, I will from henceforth rather be myself, Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition; Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young And therefore lost that title of respect, [down, Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. [deserves P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth? Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail! and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but 'tis like that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. [for us. P. Hen. But I doubt they will be too hard Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremi Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little The scourge of greatness to be used on it; And that same greatness, too, which our own Have holp to make so portly. North. My lord, [hands [see K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I do [To North.] You were about to speak. Which Harry Percy here, at Holmedon took, Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held [cold, I then, all smarting, with my wounds being To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Whose daughter, as we hear, the earl of March He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, Those mouthèd wounds, which valiantly he Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; He never did encounter with Glendower : He durst as well have met the devil alone, means, Or you shall hear in such a kind from me, We license your departure with your son.-- [Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train. North. What! drunk with choler? stay, and Here comes your uncle. [pause a while : Re-enter Worcester. Hot. K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prison-Want mercy, if I do not join with him: [ers, That we, at our own charge, shall ransom straight His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins, |