SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY
NORTHUMBERLAND. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,
Give even way unto my rough affairs;
Put not you on the visage of the times
And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. I have given over, I will speak no more.
Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;
And but my going nothing can redeem it.
LADY PERCY. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those who could speak low and tardily
Would turn their own perfection to abuse
To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd others. And him – O wondrous him!
O miracle of men! – him did you leave —
Second to none, unseconded by you —
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage, to abide a field
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible. So you left him.
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others than with him! Let them alone.
The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Beshrew your heart,
Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
With new lamenting ancient oversights.
But I must go and meet with danger there,
Or it will seek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. O, fly to Scotland
Till that the nobles and the armed commons
Have of their puissance made a little taste.
LADY PERCY. If they get ground and vantage of the King,
Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
First let them try themselves. So did your son;
He was so suff'red; so came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back.
I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt
SCENE IV. London. The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap
Enter FRANCIS and another DRAWER
FRANCIS. What the devil hast thou brought there-apple-johns?
Thou
knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
SECOND DRAWER. Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set a
dish
of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more
Sir
Johns; and, putting off his hat, said 'I will now take my
leave
of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It ang'red
him
to the heart; but he hath forgot that.
FRANCIS. Why, then, cover and set them down; and see if thou
canst
find out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear
some
music.
Enter third DRAWER
THIRD DRAWER. Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
they'll come in straight.
FRANCIS. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon;
and
they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John
must
not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.
THIRD DRAWER. By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be an
excellent stratagem.
SECOND DRAWER. I'll see if I can find out Sneak.
Exeunt second and third DRAWERS
Enter HOSTESS and DOLL TEARSHEET
HOSTESS. I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an
excellent
good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as
heart
would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as
any
rose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too
much
canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it
perfumes
the blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?
DOLL. Better than I was – hem.
HOSTESS. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold.
Lo, here comes Sir John.
Enter FALSTAFF
FALSTAFF. 'When Arthur first in court' – Empty the
Jordan. – 'And was a worthy king' —
How
now, Mistress Doll!
HOSTESS. Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.
FALSTAFF. So is all her sect; and they be once in a calm, they
are
sick.
DOLL. A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfort
you
give me?
FALSTAFF. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
DOLL. I make them! Gluttony and diseases make them: I make them
not.
FALSTAFF. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to
make
the diseases, Doll. We catch of you, Doll, we catch of you;
grant
that, my poor virtue, grant that.
DOLL. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
FALSTAFF. 'Your brooches, pearls, and ouches.' For to serve
bravely
is to come halting off; you know, to come off the breach with
his
pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon
the
charg'd chambers bravely —
DOLL. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
HOSTESS. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never
meet
but you fall to some discord. You are both, i' good truth, as
rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with
another's
confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that
must be
you. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier
vessel.
DOLL. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?
There's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him;
you
have not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'll
be
friends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars; and
whether
I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.
Re-enter FRANCIS
FRANCIS. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below and would speak with you.
DOLL. Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither; it
is
the foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.
HOSTESS. If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith!
I
must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am in
good
name and fame with the very best. Shut the door. There comes
no
swaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to have
swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.
FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear, hostess?
HOSTESS. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes no
swaggerers here.
FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.
HOSTESS. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me; and your ancient
swagg'rer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick,
the
debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me – 'twas no longer
ago
than Wednesday last, i' good faith! – 'Neighbour Quickly,'
says
he – Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then – 'Neighbour
Quickly,'
says he 'receive those that are civil, for' said he 'you are
in
an ill name.' Now 'a said so, I can tell whereupon. 'For'
says he
'you are an honest woman and well thought on, therefore take
heed
what guests you receive. Receive' says he 'no swaggering
companions.' There comes none here. You would bless you to
hear
what he said. No, I'll no swagg'rers.
FALSTAFF. He's no swagg'rer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith;
you
may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He'll not
swagger
with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of
resistance. Call him up, drawer.
Exit FRANCIS
HOSTESS. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my
house,
nor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth. I
am
the worse when one says 'swagger.' Feel, masters, how I
shake;
look you, I warrant you.
DOLL. So you do, hostess.
HOSTESS. Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen
leaf. I
cannot abide swagg'rers.
Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and PAGE
PISTOL. God save you, Sir John!
FALSTAFF. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you
with
a cup of sack; do you discharge upon mine hostess.
PISTOL. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
FALSTAFF. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly offend
her.
HOSTESS. Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I'll drink
no
more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.
PISTOL. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
DOLL. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor,
base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy
rogue, away! I am meat for your master.
PISTOL. I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
DOLL. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By
this
wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play
the
saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you
basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir?
God's light, with two points on your shoulder? Much!
PISTOL. God let me not live but I will murder your ruff for
this.
FALSTAFF. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here.
Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
HOSTESS. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
DOLL. Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not
ashamed
to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would
truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you
have earn'd them. You a captain! you slave, for what? For
tearing
a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,
rogue! He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A
captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as
odious
as the word 'occupy'; which was an excellent good word before
it
was ill sorted. Therefore captains had need look to't.
BARDOLPH. Pray thee go down, good ancient.
FALSTAFF. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
PISTOL. Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could
tear
her; I'll be reveng'd of her.
PAGE. Pray thee go down.
PISTOL. I'll see her damn'd first; to Pluto's damn'd lake, by
this
hand, to th' infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile
also.
Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors!
Have
we not Hiren here?
HOSTESS. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i'
faith; I
beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
PISTOL. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,
And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,
Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?
HOSTESS. By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.
BARDOLPH. Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl
anon.
PISTOL. Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we not
Hiren
here?
HOSTESS. O' my word, Captain, there's none such here. What the
good-year! do you think I would deny her? For God's sake, be
quiet.
PISTOL. Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
Come, give's some sack.
'Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.'
Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire.
Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there.
Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothings?
FALSTAFF. Pistol, I would be quiet.
PISTOL. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen the
seven
stars.
DOLL. For God's sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure
such a
fustian rascal.
PISTOL. Thrust him down stairs! Know we not Galloway nags?
FALSTAFF. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
shilling.
Nay, an 'a do nothing but speak nothing, 'a shall be nothing
here.
BARDOLPH. Come, get you down stairs.
PISTOL. What! shall we have incision? Shall we imbrue?
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
HOSTESS. Here's goodly stuff toward!
FALSTAFF. Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
FALSTAFF. Get you down stairs.
HOSTESS. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house
afore
I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant
now.
Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked
weapons.
Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH
DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you
whoreson little valiant villain, you!
HOSTESS. Are you not hurt i' th' groin? Methought 'a made a
shrewd
thrust at your belly.
Re-enter BARDOLPH
FALSTAFF. Have you turn'd him out a doors?
BARDOLPH. Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir,
i'
th' shoulder.
FALSTAFF. A rascal! to brave me!
DOLL. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you whoreson
chops. Ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous
as
Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better
than the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!
FALSTAFF. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
DOLL. Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou dost, I'll
canvass
thee between a pair of sheets.
Enter musicians
PAGE. The music is come, sir.
FALSTAFF. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Don. A
rascal
bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quick-silver.
DOLL. I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
leave
fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up
thine
old body for heaven?
Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers
FALSTAFF. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head;
do
not bid me remember mine end.
DOLL. Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?
FALSTAFF. A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have made a
good
pantler; 'a would ha' chipp'd bread well.
DOLL. They say Poins has a good wit.
FALSTAFF. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit's as thick
as
Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in
a
mallet.
DOLL. Why does the Prince love him so, then?
FALSTAFF. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'a
plays at
quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off
candles'
ends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys,
and
jumps upon join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, and
wears
his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, and
breeds
no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other
gambol
faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for
the
which the Prince admits him. For the Prince himself is such
another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between
their
avoirdupois.
PRINCE. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
POINS. Let's beat him before his whore.
PRINCE. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.
POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years
outlive
performance?
FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says
th'
almanac to that?
POINS. And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
lisping
to his master's old tables, his note-book, his
counsel-keeper.
FALSTAFF. Thou dost give me flattering busses.
DOLL. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
FALSTAFF. I am old, I am old.
DOLL. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
them all.
FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive
money a
Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.
DOLL. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.
Well,
hearken a' th' end.
FALSTAFF. Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE & POINS. Anon, anon, sir.
FALSTAFF. Ha! a bastard son of the King's? And art thou not
Poins
his brother?
PRINCE. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost
thou
lead!
FALSTAFF. A better than thou. I am a gentleman: thou art a
drawer.
PRINCE. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.
HOSTESS. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcome
to
London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu,
are
you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
DOLL. How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
POINS. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn
all
to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
PRINCE. YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak
of
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
HOSTESS. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by
my
troth.
FALSTAFF. Didst thou hear me?
PRINCE. Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
Gadshill. You knew I was at your back, and spoke it on
purpose to
try my patience.
FALSTAFF. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within
hearing.
PRINCE. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and
then I know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.
PRINCE. Not to dispraise me, and call me pander, and
bread-chipper, and I know not what!
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal.
POINS. No abuse!
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I
disprais'd him before the wicked – that the wicked might not
fall
in love with thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a
careful friend and a true subject; and thy father is to give
me
thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no, faith,
boys,
none.
PRINCE. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth
not
make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us?
Is
she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is
thy
boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in
his
nose, of the wicked?
POINS. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
FALSTAFF. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable;
and
his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing
but
roast malt-worms. For the boy – there is a good angel about
him;
but the devil outbids him too.
PRINCE. For the women?
FALSTAFF. For one of them – she's in hell already, and burns
poor
souls. For th' other – I owe her money; and whether she be
damn'd
for that, I know not.
HOSTESS. No, I warrant you.
FALSTAFF. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for
that.
Marry, there is another indictment upon thee for suffering
flesh<