The Hiftorie

Which 1450. yeers ago were naild,
For our aduantage on the bitter croffe.
But this our purpofe now is twelue month old,
And bootleſſe t's to tell you we wil goe.
Therefore we meet not now then let me heare
Of you my gentle Coofen Westmerland,
What yefter night our Counſell did decree
In forwarding this deere expedience.

Wesk. My liege, this haſte was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge fet downe
But yefternight, when all athwart there came
A poſt from Wales, loaden with heavy newes,
Whofe worſt was that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herdforſhire to fight
A gainſt the irregular, and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welchman taken,
A thouſand of his people butchered,
Vpon whoſe dead corps there was ſuch miſufe,
Such beaſtly ſhameſſe transformation
By whoſe Welchwomen done, as may not be
Without much ſhame, retold, or ſpoken of.

King. It seemeth then that the tidings of this broile,
Brake off our buſineſſe for the holy Land.

Wesk. This matcht with other did my gracious L.
For more vneuen and vnwelcome newes
Came from the North, and thus it did import,
On holy roode day, the gallant Hotſpur there,
Yong Harry Percy, and braue Archibold,
That euer valiant and approued Scot,
At Holmedon met, where they did ſpend
A ſad and bloudy houre:
As by diſcharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood the newes was told:
For he that brought them in the very heat
And pride of their contention, did take horſe
Vncertaine of the iſſue any way.

King. Here is deare, a true induſtrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horſe.

Stain'd

of Henry the fourth.

Stain'd with the variation of each ſoil,
Betwixt that Holmedon, and this ſeate of ours,
And he hath brought vs smoothe and welcome newes,
The Earle of Douglas is discomſted,
Ten thouſand bold Scots, two and twentie knights
Balkt in their owne blood. Did fir Walter fee,
On Holmedons plaines, of prifoners Hotſpur tooke
Mordake Earle of Fife, and eldest ſonne

To beaten Douglas, and the Earle of Athol,
Of Murrey, Angus, and Menteth:
And is not this an honourable ſpoile?
A gallant prize? Ha coofen, is it not?

In faith it is,
Wesk. A conquelt for a Prince to boast of.

King. Yea, there thou mak'st me fad, and mak'ſt me ſinne.
In enuy, that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father to ſo bleſt a ſonne:

A ſonnie who is the theame of honours tongue,
Amongst a groane the very ſtraightest plant,
Who is ſweet fortunes minion and her pride,
Whilft I by looking on the praeſe of him

See ryot and diſhonour ſtaine the brow
Of my yong Harry. O that it could be prou'd
That ſome might-tripping ſany had exchang'd
In cradle clothes our children where they lay,
And cal'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet,
Then would I haue his Harry, and he mine:
But let him from my thoughts. What thinke you coofe
Of this young Percies pride? The prifoners
Which he in this aduenture hath ſurpriz'd
To his owne vſe, he keepes and ſends me word,
I ſhall haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife.

Wesk. This is his vncles teaching: This is Worceſtelf,
Maleuolent to you in all aspects,
Which makes him prune himſelfe, and brilſt vp
The creft of youth againſt your dignitie.

King. But, I haue ſent for him to anſwere this:
And for this cauſe, a while we must neglect
Our holy purpofe to Ierusalem.

A. 3.

Coofen,

The Hiftorie

Cooſen, on wedneſday next our Counſel we will hold:

At Windſore, to informe the Lordes:
But come your ſelfe with ſpeed to vs againe,
For more is to be faid and to be done,
Then out of anger can be vtered.

West. I will, my liege.

Exeunt.

Enter prince of VVales & Sir John Falſtalſſe.

Falſ. Now Hal, what time of day is it lad ?

Prince. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old ſacke,
and vnbuttoning thee after ſupper, and ſleeping vpon benches
after noones that thou haſt forgotten to demaund that truely
which thou wouleſt truely know. What a deuill haſt thou
doe with the time of the day ? vnles houres were cups of ſacke,
and minutes capons, and clockes the tongues of Baudes, and
Dialles the ſignes of leaping houſes, and the bleſſed ſunne him-
ſelfe a faire hot wench in flame-coulered taffata; I ſee no rea-
ſon why thou shouldſt be ſuperfluous to demaunde the time
of the day.

Falſ. Indeeſt you come neere mee now Hal, for wee that
take purſes, goe by the moone and the ſeuen ſtarres, and not by
Phoebus, he, that wandring knight ſo faire : and I prethe ſweete
wag, when thou art king, as God faue thy grace : maiestie I
should ſay, for grace thou wilt haue none.

Prince. What none?

Falſ. No, by my troth, not so much as will ferue to bee pro-
logue to an egge and butter.

Prince. Well, how then? come roundly, roundly.

Falſ. Mary then, ſweet wag, when thou art king, let not vs
that are ſquares of the nights body, bee called theeues of the
dayes beautie : let vs bee Dianæs forreſters, gentlemen of the
flade, minions of the moone, and let men ſay, wee bee men of
good gouvernement, being gouverned as the ſea is, by our noble
and chafte miſtreſſe the moone, vnder whose countenance we
ſteale.

Prince. Thou faſeſt well, and it holds well too, for the fortune
of vs that are the moones men, doth ebbe and flow like the ſea,
being gouverned as the ſea is by the moone, as for proofe. Now
a purſe

of Henry the fourth.

a purſe of gold moſt refolutely ſnatcht on Munday night, and
moſt diffolutely ſpent on Tuesday morning, got with ſwearing,
lay by, and ſpent with crying, bring in, now in as low an ebbe
as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as high a flow as the
ridge of the gallowes.

Falſt. By the Lord thou faſſt true lad, and is not my hoſſeſſe
of the tauerne a moſt ſweet wench?

Prin. As the hony of Hibla my old lad of the caſtle, and is
not a buſſe Ierkin a moſt ſweet robe of durance?

Falſ. How now, how now mad wagge, what, in thy quips
and thy quiddities? what a plague haue I to doe with a butic
Ierkin?

Prince. Why what a poxe haue I to doe with my hoſſeſſe of
the tauerne?

Falſ. Well, thou haſt cald her to a reckoning many a time
and oft.

Prince. Did Ieuer call for thee to pay thy part?

Falſ. No, ile give thee thy due, thou haſt paid all there.

Prin. Yea and else where, so far as my coyne would stretch,
and where it would not I haue vſed my credit.

Falſ. Yea, and so vſ'd it, that were it not here apparent that
thou art heire apparant. But I prethe ſweet wag, ſhall there bee
gallowes standing in England when thou art king? and refolu-
tion thus ſubd as it is with the ruſtie curbe of old father Anticke
the law, doe not thou when thou art king hang a theſſe.

Prince. No, thou ſhalt.

Falſ. Shall I? O rare it by the Lord ile be a braue iudge.

Prince. Thou iudgeſt falſe already, I meane thou ſhalt haue
the hanging of the theeues, and ſo become a rare hangman.

Falſ. Well, Hal, well, and in ſome ſort it jumpes with my
humour, as well as waiting in the Court I can tell you.

Prince. For obtaining of ſutes ?

Falſ. Yea, for obtaining of ſuites, whereof the hangman
hath no leane wardrob. Zblood I am as malancholy as a gyb
Cat, or a lugd Beare.

Prince. Or an old Lyon, or a louers Lute.

Falſ. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

Prince. What ſayſt thou to a Hare, or the malancholy of
Mooreditch?

The Historie

Mooreditch?

Falf. Thou haft the most vinsatory smiles, and art indeed the most comparatine rascalliest sweeteyong Prince. But Hal, I prethe trouble me no more with vanitie, I would to God thou and I knew where a commoditie of good names were to bee bought: an olde Lord of the counsell rated me the other day in the streete about you fir, but I markt him not, and yet hee take very wifely, but I regar'd him not, and yet he talkt wifely and in the streete.

Prince. Thou didst wel, for wifedom tries out in the streets, and no man regards it.

Falf. O, thou haft damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a faire: thou haft done much harme vnto mee, Hal, God forgive thee for it: before I knewe thee Hal, I knewe nothing, and now am I, if a man should speake truely, little better then one of the wicked: I muft giue ouer this life, and I will giue it ouer; by the Lord and I doe not, I am a villaine, ile bee damnd for neuer a kingsonne in Christendom.

Prin. Where shall we take a purse to morrow Tacke?

Falf. Zounds where thou wilt lad, ile make one, an I do not call me villaine and baffell me.

Prin. I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying, to purse-taking.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation Hal, 'tis no finne for a man to labour in his vocation.

Enter Poines.

Poynes, nowe shall we knowe if Gads hill haue set a match. O, if men were to be faued by metrit, what hole in hel were hot enough for him? this is the most omnipotent villaine that euer cryed stand, to a true man.

Prince. Good morrow, Ned.

Poines. Good morrow sweete Hal. What faies Monsieur remorle? what fayes fir John Sacke, and Sugar Iacke? howe agress the diuell and thee about thy foule that thou fouledest hun on good Friday laft, for a cup of Medera and a cold capons legge?

Prince. Sir John stands to his word, the deuill shall haue his bargaine, for he was neuer yet a breaker of prouerbes: he will giue the diuell his due.

Poines

of Henry the fourth.

Poynes. Then art thou damnd for keeping thy word with the diuell.

Prince. Elfe he had bin damnd for coofening the diuell.

Poy. But my lads, my lads, to morrow morning, by foure a clocke early at Gads hill, there are pilgrims going to Canturburie with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purfes. I haue vizards for you all; you have horses for your felves, Gadshill lies to night in Rochefeller, I haue beſpoke fupper to morrow night in Eastcheap; we may doe it as ſecure as sleepe: if you will goe, I will fluffe your purſes full of crownes: if you will not, tarie at home and be hanged.

Falf. Hare ye Yedward, if I tarie at home and goe nor, I'le hang you for going.

Po. You will chops,

Falf. Hal, wilt thou make one?

Prin. Who, I rob? I a thieſe: not I by my faith.

Falf. Ther's neither honethy, manhood, nor good fellow ſhip in thee, nor thou camelt not of the bloud royall, if thou dareth not stand for ten ſhilliings.

Prince. Well then, once in my dayes I'le be a madeap.

Falf. Why that's well ſaid.

Prin. Well, come what will, I'le tarie at home.

Falf. By the lord, I'le be a traitor then, when thou art king.

Prin. I care not.

Po. Sir John, I prethe leaue the prince and me alone, I will lay him downe such reaſons for this adventure, that he ſhal go.

Falf. Wel, God giue thee the ſpint of perſuafion, and him the cares of profiting, that what thou speakeſt may moue, and what he heares, may be beleeued, that the true prince may (for recreation ſake) proue a false thieſe, for the poore abufes of the time want countenance: far eſwel, you ſhal find me in Eastcheap.

Prin. Farewel the laster Spring; farewel Alhalaine summer.

Poin. Now my good sweet hony Lord, ride with vs to morrow, I have a leaſt to execute, that I cannot mannage alone. Faiſlalſie, Harney, Roiſill, and Gadſhail, ſhal rob those men that we haue already way-laid, your ſelfe and I will not bret here: and when they haue the boome, lifyou and I doe not ob them, cut this head off from my shoulders, and let the diuell haue his due.

B

Prin.

The Historie

Prin. How shall we part with them in setting forth

Po. 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 vpon the exploit themselves, which they shall haue no sooner attichned, but wee'll set vpon them,

Prin. Yea: but is like that they will know vs by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment to be our felues,

Po. Tut, our horses they shall not fee, I'll tie the in the wood, our wizards wee will change after wee leaue them: and firra, haue cafes of Buckrom for the nonce, to immaske our noted outward garments.

Prin. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for vs.

Po. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true bred cowards as ever turnd backe: and for the third, if he fight longer then he fees reafon, Ile forwear armes. The vertue of this ieaft will be the incomprehensible lies, that this fame fat rogue will tell vs when wee meet at supper, how thirtie at least mee fought with, what wards, what bloves, what extremities he induced, and in the reproofe of this lies the ieaft.

Prince. Well, the gor with thee, proud boys all things neceffarie, and meete me to morrow night in Eastcheape, there Ile sup: fare well.

Po. Farewell my Lord.

Exit Paines.

Prin. I know you all, and will a while vphold The vnyokt humour of your idlenesse,
Yet herein will limitate the Sunne,
Who doth permit the bale contagious clouds
To mother vp his beautie from the world,
That when he pleafe againe to be himselfe,
Being wanted he may be more wondred at
By breaking through the foule and ugly milts.
Of vapours that did seeme to strangle him.
If all the yeere were playing holy-dayes,
To sport would be as tedious as to worke;
But when they feldome come, they wight for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents:
So when this loofe behauiour I throw off,
And pay the debt I neuer promised,

By

of Henry the fourth.

By how much better then my word I am,
By so much shall I falliffe mens hopes,
And like bright mettall on a fallen ground,
My reformation glittering or e my fault,
Shal Iew more goodly, and attract more eies
Then that which hath no foile to set it off.
Ile so offend, to make offence a skill,
Redeeming time when men thinke leaft I will.
Exit,
Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur,
Sir Walter Blunt, with others.

King. My blood hath bin too cold and temperate,
Vnapt to stir at these indignities,
And you haue found me, for accordingly.
You read upon my patience, but be sure,
I will from henceforth rather be my selfe,
Mightie, and to be feard, then my condition,
Which hath bin smooth as oyle, soft as yong downe,
And therefore loft that title of respect,
Which the proud foule ne're payes but to the proud.
Wor. Our house (my fonderaigne liege) little deferues
The scourge of greatnesse to be vfed on it,
And that fame greatneſſe to, which our owne hands
Haue holpe to make so portly: North. My Lord.

King. Worcester, get thee gone, for I doe see
Danger, and disobedience in thine eie:
O fir, your prefence is too bold and peremptorie;
And Maitie might neuer yet endure
The moodie frontier of a ſeruant brow,
You haue good leaue to leaue vs: when we need
Your vfe & counſell, we shall ſend for you. Exit Wor.
You were about to speake.

North. Yea, my good Lord.
Thofe prisoners in your highnes name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon tooke,
Were as he fares, not with such strength denied
As is deliuered to your maieſtie.
Either enure therefore, or miſprison,
Is guiltie of this fault, and not my ſonne.

B 2

Hotſp.

The Historie

Hotfp. My liege, I did denie no prisoners;
But I remember when the fight was done,
When I was drie with rage, and extreme toyle,
Breathles and faint, leaning vpon my word,
Came there a certaine Lord, neat and trimly drest,
Fresh as a bridegroome, and his chin new reapt,
Sheyd like a flubble land at haruest home,
He was perfumed like a Milliner,
And twixt his finger and his thumbe he held
A pouncet boxe, which euer and anon
He gaue his nose, and took't away againe,
Who therewith angry, when it next came there
Tooke it in fuffe, and still he simild and talkt:
And as the fouliours bore dead bodies by,
He cald them vnaughted knaues, vnmanerly,
To bring a flouently vnhandsome coffer
Betweene the wind and his nobilitie:
With many holy-day and ladicte tearines
He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded
My prisoners in your Maiebes behalfe.
I then, all finarting with my wounds being cold,
To be so peftred with a Popingay,
Out of my griefe and my impartence:
An answered neglectingly, I know not what,
He should, or he should not, for he made me mad
To see him flime so briske, and smell to sweete,
And talke so like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, God faue the marke:
And telling me, the foueraigne thing on earth,
Was Parmacitie, for an inward bruife,
And that it was great pitie, to it was,
This villanous faltppeeter, should be digd
Out of the bowels of the haumeles earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly, and but for these vile guns,
He would himselfe haue bene a fouliour,
This bald vnioynted chat of his (my Lord)
I answered indirectly (as I said)

And

of Henry the fourth.

And I befeech you, let not this report
Come currant for an accufation
Betwixt my loue and your high maieflie.
Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my lord,
What e're Harry Percy then had faid
To such a perſon, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the reſt retold,
May reafonably die, and neuer rife
To doe him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he faid, to he vnſay it now.

King. Why yet he doth denie his prisoners,
But with prouilo and exception,
That we at our owne charge ſhall ransome ſtraight
His brother in law, the foolish Mortimer,
Who on my foule, hath wilfully betraid
The liues of thofe, that he did lead to fight
Againſt that great Magitian, damned Glendower,
Whose daughter as we heare, the Earle of March
Hath lately married; ſhall our coſſers then
Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we buy treaſon? and indent with feares
When they haue loft and forfeited themſeues?
No, on the barren mountaine let him ſtar ue:
For I ſhall neuer hold that man my friend,
Whose tongue ſhall aske me for one penny coſt
To ransome home reuolted Mortimer.

Hot. Reuolted Mortimer?
He neuer did fall off, my ſoueraigne liege,
But by the chance of war: to proue that true
Needs no more but one tongue: for all thofe wounds,
Thofe mouthed wounds which valiantly he tooke,
When on the gentle Seuerns ſiedgie banke,
In ſingle oppofition hand to hand,
He did confound the beſt part of an houre,
In changing hardiment with great Glendower,
Three times they breathd, & three times did they drinke
Vpon agreement of ſwift Seuerns ſlond,
Who then aſſrighted with their blondie lookes,

B 3

Ran

The Historie

Ran fearfully among the trembling reedes,
And hid his crispe-head in the hollow banke,
Blood-stained with these valiant combatants,
Neuer did bare and rotten policy
Colcur her working with luch deadly wounds,
Nor neuer could the noble Mortimer
Receue so many, and all willingly:
Then let not him be flandered with reulte.

King. Thou doeſt bely him Percy, thou doeſt bely him,
He neuer did encounter with Glendower:

I tell thee he durſt as well haue met the deuill alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemie.
Art thou not afham'd but firra, henceforth
Let me not heare you ſpeake of Mortimer:

Send me your prifoners with the ſpeedieſt meanes,
Or you ſhall heare in ſucha kinde from me.

As will diſplaſe you. My Lord Northumberland,
We licence your departure with your ſonne,

Send vs your prifoners, or you will heare of it.
Hot. Exit King.

Hot. And if the deuill come andMORE for them,
I will not ſend them: I will after ſtraight
And tell him so, for I will eafe my heart,
Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

North. What? drunke with choler? stay and paſſe a while,
Here comes your vncle. Enter Wor.

Hot. ſpeake of Mortimer?

Zoundes I will ſpeake of him: and let my ſoule

Want mercie, if I doe not ioyne with him:

Yea, on his part Ile empty all these vaines,
And Ihead my deare blood, drop by drop in the duſt,
But I will lift the downe-trod Mortimer

As high in the aire as this vnthankeſuall king,

As this ingrate and cankred Bullingbrooke.

North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

Wor. Whoſtrooke this heate vp after I was gone

Hot. He will forfooth haue all my prifoners,

And when I vrg'd the ransome once agayne

Of my wues brother, then his cheeke lookt pale,

And

of Henrie the fourth.

And on my face the turn'd ancie of death,
Trembling euen at the name of Mortimer.

Wor. I cannot blame him, was not he proclaim'd

By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?

North. He was, I heard the proclamation :

And then it was, when the vnhappie king,
(Whose wrongs in vs God pard's) did let forth
Vpon his Irish expedition;

From whence he intercepted, did returne

To be depos'd, and shortly murdered.

Wor. And for whose death, we in the worlds wide mouth
Lie scandaliz'd and fouly ſpoken of.

Hot. Butoft I pray you, did king Richard then
Proclaime my brother Mortimer
Heire to the crowne?

North. He did, my ſelfe did heare it.

Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his coofen king,
That wiſht him on the barren mountaines starue.

But ſhall it be that you that ſet the crowne

Vpon the head of this forgetful man,

And for his ſake weare the deteited blot

Of murtherous subornation? ſhall it be

That you a world of curſes vndergo,

Being the agents, or bafe ſecond meanes,

The cordes, the ladder, or the hangman rather

O pardon me, that I delcend ſo low,

To ſhew the line and the predicament,

Wherein you range vnder this ſubtil king.

Shall it for ſhame be ſpoken in these dayes,

Or fill vp Chronicles in time to come,

That men of your nobility and power

Did gage them both in an vniuſt behalf,

(As both of you God pardon it, haue done)

To put downe Richard that ſweet louely Rofe,

And plant this thorne, this canker Bullingbrooke?

And ſhall it in more ſhame be further ſpoken,

That you are foo'd, diſcarded, and ſhooke off

By him, for whom these ſhames ye vnderwent?

No,

The Historie

No, yet time ferues, wherein you may redeem
Your baniht honors, and restore your felues,
Into the good thoughts of the world againe :
Reuenge the ieering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud king, who studies day and night
To answere all the debt he owes to you,
Euen with the bloody payment of your deaths :
Therefore I say,

Wor. Peace coofen, say no more.
And now I will vnclapc a secret booke,
And to your quicke conceiuing discontents
Ile reade you matter deepe and dangerous,
As full of perill and aduenterous spirit,
As to o'rewalke a Current roring lowd,
On the vnstedfast footing of a speare.

Hot. If he fall in good-night, or fincke, or swim,
Send danger from the East into the West,
So honor croffe it, from the North to South,
And let them grapple: O the bloud more itus
To roufe a lyon than to start a hare.

North. Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
By heauen me thinkes it were an eafe leape,
To plucke bright honor from the palefac'd Moone,
Or diue into the bortome of the deepe,
Where fadome line could neuer touch the ground,
And plucke vp drowned honour by the locks,
So he that doth redeem her thence might weare
Without corriuall all her dignities:
But out vpon this halfe fa't fellowship.

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend,
Good coofen give me audience for a while.

Hot. I crye you mercy.
Wor. Those fame noble Scots that are your prisoners
Hot. I keepe them all;
By God he shall not have a Scot of them,
No, if a Scot would faue his foule he shall not.

lie

of Henry the fourth.

Ile keepe them by this hand.

Wor. You start away,
And lend no eare vnto my purpofes:
Those prifoners you shall keepe.

Hot. Nay, I will: that's flat:
He said he would not ranfome Mortimer,
Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer,
But I will finde him when he lies afleepe,
And in his eare Ile hollow Mortimer:
Nay, ile haue a starling falbe taught to speake
Nothing but Mortimer, and giue it him
To keepe his anger still in motion.

Wor. Heare you coofen, a word.
Hot. All studies here I solemnly defie,
Sae how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrooke,
And that fame sword and buckler prince of Wales,
But that I thinke his father loues him not,
And would be glad he met with some miſchance :
I would haue him poisoned with a pot of Ale.

Wor. Farewell kinfman, ile talke to you
When you are better tempered to attend.

Nor. Why what a wafpe-tongue and impatient foole
Art thou? to breake into this woman's mood,
Tying thine eare to no tongue but thine owne?
Hot. Why looke you, I am whipt and scour'gd with rods,
Netled, and ſtung with pifmires, when I heare
Of this vile polititian Bullingbrooke,
In Richards time, what do you call the place?
A plague vpon it, it is in Gloceſtërſhire;
T'was where the mad-cap duke his uncle kept
His uncle Yorke, where I firſt bowed my knee
Vnto this king of smiles, this Bullingbrooke:
Zblood, when you and he came backe from Rauenſpurgh.

Nor. At Barkly caſtle.
Hot. You lay true.
Why what a Candy deale of curſeſe,
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me,
Looke when his infant fortune came to age,
And gentle Harry Percy, and kind coofen:

c

O the

The Historie

O, the deuill take such coofeners, God forgive mee.

Good Vncle tell your tale, I haue done.

Wor. Nay, if you haue not, to it againe,
We will stay your leisure.

Hot. I haue done Ifaith.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners,
Deliver them vp, without their transome straight,

And make the Douglas fonne your only meane
For Powers in Scotland, which for diuers reafons

Which I shall send you written, be affur'd.

Will easily be granted you, my Lord.

Your fonne in Scotland being thus employed,

Shall secretly into the bosome creepe

Of that fame noble prelate welbelou'd,

The Archbifhop,

Hot. spur. Of Yorke, is it not?

Wor. True, who beares hard.

His brothers death at Brittow the Lord Scroope:

If speake not this in effimation,

As what I thinke might be, but what I know

Is ruminated, plotted, and fet downe,

And onely fayes but to behold the face

Of that occasion that shall bring it on,

Hot. sp. If smell it, V por my life it will doe well.

Nor. Before the game is afoot, thou still letft slip.

Hot. Why, it cannot chuse but be a noble plot.

And then the power of Scotland, and of Yorke,

To ioyne with Mortimer, ha.

Wor. And so they shall.

Hot. In faith it is exceedingly well aimed.

Wor. And t is no little reafon bids vs speed,

To faue our heads, by raising of a head:

For beare our felues as euen as we can,

The King will always thinke him in our debt,

And thinke we thinke our felues vnfatfified,

Till he hath found a time to pay vs home.

And fee already, how he doth begin

To make vs strangers to his lookes of loue.

Hot.

of Henry the fourth.

Hot. He does, he does, weele be reueng'd on him.

Wor. Coofen, farewell. No further goe in this,

Then I by letters shall direct your course

When time is ripe, which will be suddenly:

Ile steale to Glendower, and Ioe, Mortimer,

Where you and Douglas, and our powers at once,

As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,

To beare our fortunes in our owne strong armes,

Which now we hold at much vncertaintie.

Nor. Farewel good brother, we fal thine, I truft.

(Hot. Vncle adieu: O let the hours be short,

Till fields, and blowes, and grones applaud our sport. Exenut.

Enter a Carrier With a lanterne in his hand.

1 Car. Heigh ho. An it be not foure by the day, Ile bee
hang'd, Charles waine is ouer the new Chimney, and yet our
horte not packt. What Oftler.

Oft. Anon, anon.

1 Car. I prethee Tom, beat Cuts saddle, put a few flocks in the point, poore iade is wrung in the withers, out of all cesse.

Enter another Carrier.

2 Car. Pease and beanes are as danke here as a dog, and that
is the next way, to giue poore iades the bots: this houte is turned
vpfide downe since Robin Oftler died.

1 Car. Poore fellow neuer ioted since the price of Oates roſe,
it was the death of him.

2 Car. I thinke this be the moſt villainous houſe in al London
road for fleas, I am ſtung like a Tench.

1 Car. Like a Tench by the Maſſe there is ne're a king chri-
ten could be better bit, then I haue bin since the firſt cocke.

2 Car. Why, they will allow vs ne're a Iordane, and then we
leake in your chimney, and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like
a loach.

1 Car. What, Oſtler, come away, and be hang'd, come away.

2 Car. I haue a gammon of Bacon, and two razes of Gin-
ger, to be deliuered as farre as Charing croſſe.

2 Car. Gods body, the Turkies in my Pamer are quiet Iar-
uediwhat Oſtler a plague on thee, haſt thou neuer an eie in thy
health can it not heare, and t were not as good deede as drink to
breake

C 2

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breake the pate on thee, I am a very villaine, come & be hang'd,
haft no faith in thee?

Enter Gadshill.

Gadshill. Good morrow Carriers, what's a clocke?

Car. I thinke it be two a clocke.

Gad. I prethe lend me thy lanterne, to see my gelding in the
stable.

1 Car. Nay by God soft, I know a tricke worth two of that I faith.

Gad. I pray thee lend me thine.

2 Car. I, when, canst tell: lend me thy lanterne (quoth he)
marry ile see thee hang'd first.

Gad. Sirra Carrier, what time doe you meane to come to
London?

2 Car. Time enough to goe to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. Come neighbour Mugs, wee'le call vp the Gentlemen, they will along with company, for they haue great charge.

Enter Chamberlaine.

Exeunt.

Gad. What ho: Chamberlaine.

Cham. At hand quoth picke-purse.

Gad. That's euſ a faire, as at hand quoth the Chamberlaine: for thou varieſ no more from picking of purſes, then giuing direction, doth from labouring: thou layeſt the plot how.

Cham. Good morrow maſter Gadshill, it holds currant that I told you yeſter night, ther's a Franckelin 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 knowes what, they are vp already, and call for egges and butter, they will away preſently.

Gad. Sirra, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas clarks, ile giue thee this necke.

Cham. No, ile none of it, I pray thee keepe that for the hang-
man, for I know thou worſhippeſt Saint Nicholas, as truely as a
man of falſhood may.

Ga. What talkeſt thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, ile make a fat paire of gallowes: for if I hang, old fir Iohn hangs with me, & thou knoweſt he is no ſtarueling: but, there are other

Troians

of Henry the fourth.

Troians that thou dream't not of, the which for sport faſe are
content to do the profession, ſome grace, that would (if matters
should be lookt into, for their owne credit) ſake make all whole.
I am ioyned with no footland rakers, no long ſtaſſe ſixpennie
ſtrikers, none of these mad muſtachio purplehewd maltworms,
but with nobilitie, and tranquillitie, Burgomaſters and great
Oneyers, ſuch as can hold in ſuch as wil strik[e] ſooner then ſpeak,
and ſpeak ſooner then drinke, and drinke ſooner then pray, and
yet (zoundes) I lie, for they pray continually to their Saint the
Common-wealth, or rather not pray to her, but pray on her, for
they ride vp and downe on her, and make her their bootes.

Cham. What, the Common-wealth their bootes? will the
hold out water in foule way?

Gad. She will, she will, luſtice hath liquord her: we ſteale as
in a Castle cockſure: we haue the receite of Ferneſfeede, wee
walke inuſible.

Cham. Nay, by my faith, I thinke you are more beholding to
the night then to Ferneſfeede, for your walking inuſible.

Gad. Giue me thy hand, thou ſhalt haue a ſhare in our pur-
chafe, as I am a true man.

Cham. Nay, rather let me haue it, as you are a falſe theſe.

Gad. Go to, homo is a common name to al men: bid the Oſtler,
bring my gelding out of the stable, farewell, ye muddy knaue.

Enter Prince, Poines, and Peto, &c.

Poin. Come ſhelter, ſhelter, I haue remouu'd Falſtallſes horſe,
and he frets like a gum'd Veluet.

Prince, Stand close.

Enter Falſtallſe.

Falſ. Poynes, Poynes, and be hang'd Poynes.

Prince. Peace ye fat-kidney'd rafcal, what a brawling doſt
thou keepe?

Falſ. What Poynes, Hal?

Prin. He is walkt vp to the top of the hill, Ile go ſeeke him.

Falſ. I am accur't to rob in that the eues companie, the rafcal
hath remoued my horſe, and tyed him. I know not where, if I
trauell but ſoure ſoote by the ſquire further afoote, I ſhal breake
my winde. Well, I doubt not but to die a faire death for all
this, if I ſcape hanging for killing that rogue. I haue forsworne
his company hourly any time this xxii. yeare, and yet I am be-


C 3

witcht

## The Historie

wicht with the rogues company. If the rascall have not giuen me medicines to make me loue him, ile be hang'd. It could not be else. I have drunke medicines, Poynes, Hal, a plague upon you both. Bardoll, Peto, ile starue e're ile rob afoote further, and were not as good a deede as drinke to turne true-man, and to leaue thefe rogues; I am the verief varlet that euer chewed with a tooth: eight yardees of vn>euen ground is three-score and ten mules afoote with mee: and the stonic hearted villaines knowe it well enough, a plague upon it when theeues can not be true one to another.

They whistle.

Whew, a plague upon you all, gue me my horfe, you rogues, giue me my horfe, and be hang'd.

Prin. Peace ye far guts, lie downe, lay thine eare close to the ground, and lift not you can heare the tread of trauellers.

Falf. Haue you any leauers to lift me vp againe being down? zb'pood ile not beare mine owne flesh, so farre afoote agane, for all the come in thy fathers Exchequer? What a plague meane ye, to colt methuse?

Prin. Thou lyck, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted.

Falf. I prethe good prince, Hal, helpe me to my horfe, good kings sonne. I am a man of science, and knowe the Kingsologie.

Prin. Oun your rogue, shall I be your Oſtler?

Falf. Hang thy cleare in thine owne heire apparant garters: if I be taine, ile peacil for this; and I have not Ballads made on you all, and fung to filchy tunes, let a cuppe of facke be my poyon; when left is so forward, and afoote too, I hate it.

Enter Gadshill.

Gad. Stand.
Falf. So I do againſt my will.

Prin. O this our fetter, I know his voyce, Bardoll, what newest

Bar. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your vizards, there's money of the Kings coming downe the hill; this is going to the Kings Exchequer.

Falf. You lie, ye rogue, this going to the kings Tauerne.

Gad. There's enough to make vs all:

Falf. To be hang'd.

Prin. Sirs, you foure hal front them in the narrow lanet. Ned Poynes, and I will walke lower if they apepe from your encounter,

## of Henry the fourth.

ter, then they light on vs.

Peto. How many be they of them?

Gad. Some eight, or ten.

Falf. Zoundes, will they not rob vs?

Prince. What, a coward, sir John palfrey?

Falf. In deed I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal.

Prince. Well, we leaue that to the proofe.

Po. Sirra, Iacke, thy horfe standes behind the hedge, when thou need it him, there thou shall find him: farewel, & stand fast.

Falf. Now can not I strike him if I should be hang'd.

Prin. Ned, where are our disguises?

Prin. Here, hard by, stand close.

Falf. Now my maſters, happy man be his dole, say I, euery man to his buſineſſe.

Enter the trauailers.

Trauail. Come neighbour, the boy shall lead our horſes down the hill, weele walke afoote awhile, and eate our legs.

Theeues. Stand.

Trauel, Iesu bleſſe vs.

Falf. Strike, downe with them, cut the villaines throates: a horeſon Catterpillers, Bacon-fed knaues, they hate vs, youth, downe with them, fl eece them.

Tea. O, we are vndone, both we and ours, for euer.

Fal. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are ye vndone? no ye fatte chuffes, I would your ſtore were here: on Bacons on, what yee knaues? yong men muſt lieue, you are graunde iurers, are yee a weele iure ye faith.

Here they rob them, and bind them.

Exeunt.

Enter the Prince and Poines.

Prin. The theeues have bound the true men: nowe coulde thou and I rob the theeues, and go merily to London, it woulde be argument for a weeke, laughter for a moneth, and a good ieſt for euer.

Poines. Stand close, I heare them comming.

Enter the theeues againe.

Falf. Come, my maſters, let vs share, and then to horſe before day: and the Prince and Poines bee not two arrant cowardes, there's no equitie flurring, there's no more valour in that Poines, then in a wilde ducke.

Prin.

The Hiftorie

Prin. Your money.
Poin. Villaines.

As they are sharing, the Prince and Poines
fet upon them, they all runne away, and
Falſtalſſe after a blow or two runs away
too, leauing the booſie behind them.

Prin. Got with much caſe. Now merrily to horſe: the theuues
are scattered, and poſſed with ſeare ſo strongly, that they dare
not meete each other, each takes his fellow for an officer, away
good Ned, Falſtalſſe ſweates to death, and lards the leane earth
as he walkes along, wer't not for laughing I should pittie him.

Poines: How the rogue roar'd.

Exeunt.

Enter Horspur ſolus, reading a letter.

But for mine owne part, my Lord, I could be well contented to bee
there, in reſpect of the loue I beare your honſe.

He could be contented, why is he not then? in the reſpect of
the loue he beares our honſe: he ſhowes in this, he loues his own
barne better then he loues our honſe. Let me fee ſome more.

The purpose you undertake is dangerous,

Why that's certaine, t'is dangerous to take a cold, to ſleepe,
to drinke, but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of this nettle dan-
ger, we plucke this flower ſaſetie.

The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends you haue na-
med Vincentia, the time it selfe unſorted, and your whole plot too
light, for the counterpoyle of ſo great an oppoſition.

Say you ſo, ſay you ſo. Hay vnto you againe, you are a ſhal-
low cowardly hinde, and you lye: what a lacke-braine is this? by
the Lord our plot is a good plot, asuer was laid, our friends true
and conſant: a good plot, good friends, & ful of expeſation: an
excellent plot, very good friends; what a ſrontie ſpirited rogue is
this? why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the gene-
rall courte of the Action, Zoundes and I were now by this ral-
call, I could braine him with his Ladies fanne. Is there not my
father, my vncle, and my ſelfe, Lord Edmond Mortimer, my
Lord of Yorke, and Owen Glendower? is there not bides the
Dowglast haue I not at their letters to meete me in armes by the
ninth of the next month, and are they not ſome of them ſet for-
ward already? what a pagan rafcall is this, and infidel? He you
ſhall fee now in very ſinceritie of ſeare and cold heart, will he to
the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could deuide
my

of Henry the fourth.

my ſelfe, & go to buffets, for mouing ſuch a diſh of skim milke
with ſo honorable an action. Hang him, let him tell the king, we
are prepared: I will ſet forward to night.

Enter his Lady.

How now Kate, I muſt leaue you within theſe two hours?

Lady. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone?

For what offence haue I this fortnight bin
A banifht woman from my Harries bed?
Tell me, ſweet Lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy ſtomake, pleafure, and thy golden ſleepe?
Why doſt thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?
And ſtart so often when thou fitſ alone?
Why haſt thou loft the fresh bloud in thy peekes?
And giuen my treaſures and my rights of thee
To thucke ey demuſing, and curſt melancholy?
In thy faint ſlumbers, I by thee haue watcht,
And heard thee murmur tales of yron wars,
Speake tearmes of mannage to thy bounding ſteed,
Cry courage to the field. And thou haſt talkt
Of ſalles, and retyres of trenches, tents,
Of pallizadoes, frontiers, para pets,
Of baſſlisks, of canon, culuerin,
Of prisoners ransome, and of ſouldiours ſaine,
And all the currents of a heddy fight,
Thy ſpirt within thee hath bin ſo at war,
And thus hath ſo beſtird thee in thy ſleepe,
That beds of ſweat haue ſtood vpon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late disturbed ſtreame,
And in thy face ſtrange motions haue appeard,
Such as we fee when men refraine their breath,
On ſome great ſuddaine haſte, O, what portents are theſe?
Some heavy buſines hath my Lord in hand,
And I muſt know it, eſſe he loues me not.

Hot. What ho, is Gilliams with the packet gone?

Ser. He is, my Lord, an houre ago.

Hot. Hath Butler brought thate horſes from the Sheriffe?

Ser. One horſe, my Lord, he brought euen now.

Hot. What horſe, Roane? a cropeare, is it not?

Ser. It is my Lord.

D

Hot.

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Hot. That Roane shall be my throne. Well, I will backe him
straight: O Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth into the parke,

La. But heare you my Lord.

Hot. What faust thou my Lady?

La. What is it carries you away?

Hot. Why, my horfe (my loue) my horfe.

La. Out you madh-edded ape, a weazel hath not such a deale
of fpleene, as you are toft with. In faith, ile know your buſines
Harry, that I wil, I feare, my brother Mortimer doth stir about
his title, & hath ſent for you to lne his enterprife, but if you goe.

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, loue.

La. Come, come you Paraquito, anſwere mee directly, vnto
this queſtion that I ſhall aske : in faith, ile breake thy little fin-
ger, Harry, and if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

Hot. Away, away you trifler, loue, I loue thee not,
I care not for thee Kate, this is no world
To play with mambets, and to tilt with lips,
We muſt haue cloudy noſes, and crackt crownes,
And paffe them currant too: gods me, my horſe:
What ſaſt thou Kate? what woldſt thou haue with me?

La. Do you not loue me? do' you not indeed?
Well, doe not then, for ſince you loue me not,
I will not loue my ſelfe. Doe you not loue me?
Nay, tell me, if you ſpeak e in ieaſ, or no?

Hot. Come, wilt thou ſee me ride?
And when I am a horſe backe, I will ſweare,
I loue thee infinitely. But harke you Kate,
I muſt not haue you henceforth, queſtion me,
Whither I goe, nor reaſon, whereabout :
Whither I muſt, I muſt, and to conclude,
This euening muſt I leaue you gentle Kate :
I know you wife, but yet no farther wife,
Then Harry Percies wife: conſtant you are,
But yet a woman, and for ſecrecy,
No Lady cloſer, for I well beleeeue,
Thou wilt not vttter, what thou doſt not know:
And ſo far will I truſt thee, gentle Kate.

La. How, ſo far?

Hot.

of Henry the fourth.

Hot. Not an inch further, but harke you Kate,
Whither I goe, that her shall you goe too:

To day will I ſet forth, to morrow you:
Will this content you, Kate?

La. It muſt of force.

Exeunt.

Enter Prince and Poines.

Prin. Ned, prethee come out of that fat roome, and lend me
thy hand to laugh a little.

Poi. Where haſt bin, Hāl?

Prin. With three or ſoure logger-heads, amongſt three or
ſoureſcore hogsheads. I haue founded the very bafe string of
humilitie, Sirra, I am ſworne brother to a leaſh of drawers, and
can call them all by their chriften names, as Tom, Dicke, and
Francis: they take it already vpon their ſaluation, that though I
be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of Curſeſe, & tel me
flatly, I am no proud Iacke, like Falſtalſſe, but a Corinſtian,
a lad of mettal, 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 Eaſtcheape. They call drinking deepe, 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 quar-
ter of an houre, that I can drinke with any Tinker, in his own
language, during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou haſt loft much
honour, that thou wert not with me, in this action; but ſweet
Ned, to ſweeten which name of Ned, I guee thee this peniworth
of ſugar, clapt euen now into my hand, by an vnderskinker,
one that neuer ſpake other Englifh in his life, then eight ſhil-
lings and ſixe pence, and you are welcome, with this thrill ad-
dited, anon, anon fir; skore a pint of baſtard in the halſe moone,
or ſo. But Ned, to drinke away the time till Falſtalſſe come : I
prethee, doe thou ſtand in ſome by-roome, while I quellion my
puny drawer, to what end he gaue me the ſugar, and doe thou
neuer leaue calling Frances, that his tale to me may be nothing
but anon; ſlep aſide, and ile ſhew thee a prefent.

Poin. Frances.

Prin. Thou art perfect.

Prin. Frances.

Enter Drawer.

Fran. Anon, anon fir. Looke downe into the Pomgarnet,
Ralph.

D 2

Prin.

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Prin. Come hither, Frances. Fran. My Lord,

Prin. How long haſt thou to ſerve, Frances?

Fran. Forfooth, ſue yeeres, and as much as to.

Po. Frances.

Fran. Anon, anon fir.

Prin. Fue yeere, berlady a long leafe for the clinking of pewter; but Frances, dareſt thou be ſo valiant, as to play the coward with thy Indenture, and ſhew it a faire paire of heeles, and run from it?

Fran. O Lord fir, ile be ſworne vpon all the bookes in England, I could find in my heart.

Poin. Frances. Fran. Anon fir.

Prin. How old art thou, Frances?

Fran. Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shall be.

Poin. Frances.

Fran. Anon fir, pray you ſtay a little my Lord.

Prin. Nay, but harke you Frances, for the ſugar thou gauſt me, it was a penitence, was't not?

Fran. O Lord, I would it had bin two.

Prin. I will giue thee for it, a thouſand pound, aske me when thou wilt, and thou haſt haue it.

Poin. Frances. Fran. Anon, anon.

Prin. Anon Frances, no Frances, but to morrow Frances: or Frances a Thursday; or indeed Frances when thou wilt. But Frances.

Fran. My Lord.

Prin. Wilt thou rob this leatherne Ierkin, criftall button, not-pated, agat ring, puke ſtocking, Caddice garter, ſmooth tongue, ſpanith pouch?

Fran. O Lord fir, who doe you meane?

Prin. Why, then your browne baſtard is your onely drinke? for looke you Frances, your white canuas doublet will fulleyle In Barbary fir, it cannot come to ſo much.

Fran. What fir. Poin. Frances.

Prin. Away you rogue, doſt thou not heare them call.

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

Vint. What, ſtand it thou ſtil, and hearſt ſuch a calling? looke to

of Henry the fourth.

to the ghelfs within. My Lord, old fir Iohn with halſe a douzen more are at the doore, Ihaſt I let them in?

Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore: Poines.

Poi. Anon, anon fir. Enter Poines.

Prince. Sirra, Falltalſſe and the reſt of the theeues are at the doore, Ihaſt we be merry?

Poi. As merry as Crickets, my lad, but harke ye, what cunning match haue you made with this ieſt of the Drawer? come, what's the iſſue ?

Prin. I am now of all humours, that haue ſhewed themſelues humours ſince the old dayes of goodman Adam, to the pupill age of this preſent twelue a clocke at midnight. What's a clocke, Frances?

Fran. Anon, anon fir.

Prin. That euer this fellowe ſhould haue fewer words then a Parrat, & yet the ſonne of a woman. His induſtrie is vp ſtaires and downe ſtaires, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percies minde, the Hotſpur of the North, he that kils me ſome ſixe or ſeuen douzen of Scots at a breakefaſt, waſhes his handes, and ſayes to his wife, Fie vpon this quiet life, I want worke. O my ſweet Harry ſaies the! how many haſt thou kild to day? Giue my Roane horſe a drench (fayes hee) and aunſwers ſome fourteene, an hour after : a trifle, a trifle. I prethee call in Falltalſſe, ile play Percy, and that daminde brawne Ihaſt play Dame Mortimer his wife. Riuo ſaies the drunkard : call in Ribs, call in Tallow.

Enter Falltalſſe.

Poi. Welcome Iacke, where haſt thou bene?

Falf. A plague of al cowards I ſay, and a vengeance too, marry and Amen: giue me a cup of ſacke boy. E're I lead this life long, ile ſow neather ſlocks, and mend them, & foote them too. A plague of all cowards. Giue me a cup of ſacke, rogue, is there no vertue extant? he drinketh.

Prin. Didſt thou neuer ſee Titan kiffle a diſh of butter, pitiful harted Titan that melted at the ſweet tale of the ſonnes? if thou didſt, then behold that compound.

D 3

Falf.

The Historie

Fals. You rogue, heere's lime in this lacke too, there is no
thing but rogery to be found in villanous man, yet a cowarde is
worle then a cup of lacke with lime in it. A villanous coward,
Go thy wayes old lacke, die when thou wilt, if manhood, good
manhood be not forgot vpon the face of the earth, then am I a
flotten herring : there liues not three good men vnhang'd in
England, and one of them is fat, and growes old, God help the
while, a bad world I fay, I would I were a weaner, I could sing
pfalmes, or any thing. A plague of all cowards, I fay still.

Prin. How now, W olfacke, what mutter you ?

Fals. A kings fonne: if I doe not beat thee out of thy kingdom
with a dagger of lath, and driue all thy fubie'ts afore thee like a
flock of wilde geese, ile neuer weare haire on my face more, you
Prince of Wales.

Prin. Why you horeson round-man, what's the mat ter?

Fals. Are you not a cowarde ? aunty were me to that, and
Poynes there.

Poin. Zoundes ye fat paunch, and ye call me cowarde, by the
Lord, ile tab thee.

Fals. I call thee cowarde: ile see thee damnde ere I call thee
coward, but I would giue a thousand pound I coulde runne as
faft as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you
care not who fees your backe : call you that backing of your
friends: a plague vpon such backing: giue mee them that will
face me; giue me a cup of lacke. I am a rogue if I drunke to day.

Prin. O villain, thy lips are icarfe wip't since thou druk'it laft.

Fals. All is one for that.

He drinketh.

A plague of all cowards, itill fay I.

Prin. What's the matter?

Fals. What's the matter? there be foure of vs here haue tane
a thousand pound this day morning.

Prin. Where is it, Iacke, where is it ?

Fals. Where is it? taken from vs it is: a hundred vpon poore
foure of vs.

Prin. What, a hundred, man ?

Fals. I am a rogue, if I were not at halfe sword, with a douzen
of them two houres together. I haue scap't by myracle. I am
cight times thrust through the doublet, foure through the hofe,
my

of Henry the fourth.

my buckler cut through and through, my fworde hack't like a
hand-faw, ecce signum. I neuer dealt better since I was a man, al
would not do. A plague of all cowards, let them speake, if they
speake more or leffe then trueth, they are villains, and the sonnes
of darkenesse.

Gad. Speake, firs, how was it?

Reſt. We foure let vpon some douzen.

Fals. Sixeteene, at leaft, my Lord.

Reſt. And bound them.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound.

Fals. You rogue, they were bound, euery man of them, or I
am a Iew elfe, and Hebrew Iew.

Reſt. As we were sharing, some fixe or seuen fresh men let
vpon vs.

Fals. And vnbound the reſt, and then come in the other.

Prin. What, fought ye with them all?

Fals. All: I know not what ye call all: but if I fought not with
fiftie of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or
three and fiftie vpon poore olde lacke, then am I no two leg'd
 creature.

Prin. Pray God, you haue not murthered some of them.

Fals. Nay, that's paft praying for, I haue pepper'd two of the.
Two I am fure I haue pated, two rogues in buckrom futes: I tell
thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, I pit in my face; call me horfe:
thou knoweit my olde warde: here I lay, and thus I bore my
point; foure rogues in buckrom let driue at me.

Prin. What, foure? thou fay'd it but two, euen now.

Fals. Foure, Hal, I told thee foure.

Poin. I, I, he faid, foure.

Fals. These foure came all afront, and mainly thrust at me;
I made me no more adoe, but tooke all their seuen points in my
target, thus.

Prin. Seuen? why there were but foure, enen now.

Fals. In Buckrom.

Poynes. I, foure, in Buckrom fuites.

Fals. Seuen, by these hilts, or I am a villaine elfe.

Prince. Prethee let him alone, we shall haue more anon.

Fals. Doeſt thou heare me, Hal?

Prince.

The Historie

Prin. I, and marke thee too, Iacke.

Falf. Do so, for it is worth the listening to, these nine in Buck-
rom that I told thee of.

Prin. So, two more already.

Falf. Their points being broken.

Poin. Downe fell his hose.

Falf. Began to giue me ground: but I followed me clofe, came
in, foot, and hand, & with a thought, leuen of the eleuen I paid.

Prin. O monſtrous eleuen Buckrom men growne out of two
Falf. But as the deuil would haue it, three misbegotten knaues
in Kendall greene came at my backe, and let drive at me, for it
was so darke? Hal, that thou couldst not fee thy hand.

Prin. These lyes are like the father that begets the, groſſe as
a mountaine, open, palpable. Why thou clay-brain'd guts, thou
knotty-pated foole, thou horſe ſon obſene greaſe tallow-catch.

Falf. What, art thou mad? art thou mad: is not the trueth the
trueth?

Prin. Why, how could it thou know these men in Kendall
green, where it was so darke thou couldst not fee thy hand? come
tell vs your reaſon. What fayſt thou to this ?

Poin. Come your reaſon, Iacke, your reaſon.

Falf. What, vpon compulſion? Zounds, and I were at the
ſtrapp do, or all the rackes in the worlde, I would not tel you on
compulſion. Giue you a reaſon on compulſion: if reaſons were
as plentie as blaſke-berries, I would giue no man a reaſon vpon
compulſion, I.

Prince. Ile be no longer guiltie of this finne. This ſanguine
coward, this bedpreffer, this horſe-backe-breaker, this huge
hill of fleſh.

F. Zbloud you ſtarueling, you elfskin, you dried neatstouſ, you
bullpizzel, you ſtockſih: O for breath to vtter, what is like thee?
you tailers yard, you ſheath, you bowcaſe, you vile ſtading tuck.

Prin. Wel, breathe a while, and then to it againe, & when thou
haft tired thy ſelfe in bafe cōpariſons, heare me ſpeake but this.

Poynes. Marke, Iacke.

Prin. We two ſaw you foure ſet on foure, & bound them, and
were maſters of their wealth: marke now how a plaine tale ſhall
put you downe, then did wee two ſet on you foure, and with a
werde,

of Henry the fourth.

werde, outſact you from your prize, & haue it, yea, & can ſlew
it you here in the house: and Falſtaleſ, you carried your guſts a-
way as nimbly, with as quicke dexterine, & roard for mercry, and
ſtill run and roar, as euer I heard Bul-calf, What a ſlave art thou
to hacke thy ſword as thou haſt done? & then ſay it was in fight.
What tricke? what deuice? what starting hole canſt thou now
find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent ſhame?

Poin. Come, let's heare Iacke, what tricke haſt thou now?

Falf. By the Lord, I knew yee as well as hee that made yee.
Why, heare you, my maſters, was it for me, to kill the heire ap-
parant: should I turne vpon the true Prince? why, thou know-
elt, I am as valiant, as Hercules: but, beware inſtinſt, the lyon
will not touch the true Prince, inſtinſt is a great matter. I was
a coward on inſtinſt, I ſhall thinke the better of my ſelfe, and
thee, during my life; I, for a valiant Lyon, and thou, for a true
Prince: but, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you haue the money.
Hofſteſle, clap to the doores, watch to night, pray to morrow,
gailants, lads, boyes, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellow-
ship come to you. What, shall we bee merrie, shall we haue
a play extempore?

Prin. Content, and the argument shall be, thy running away.

F. A, no more of that, Hal, & thou loueſt me, Enter hofſteſle.

Ho. O Iesu, my Lord the Prince.

Prin. How now, my lady the hofſteſle, what faſt thou to me?

Ho. Marry, my L. there is a noble-man of the court, at door,
would ſpeake with you: he fayes, he comes from your Father.

Prin. Giue him as much, as will make him a royall man, and
ſend him backe againe to my mother.

Fal. What maner of man is he?

Ho. An old man.

Fal. What doth granuitie out of his bed at midnight? Shall I
give him his anſwere?

Prin. Prethee do, Iacke. Fal. Faith, and I ſend him packing.

Exit.

Prin. Now firſ, birlady you fought faire, ſo did you Petro, ſo
did you Bardol, you are lions to, you ran away vpon inſtinſt,
you will not touch the true Prince, no ſie.

Bar. Faith, I ran, when I ſaw others runne.

E

Prin.

The Historie

Prin. Faith, tell me now in earneſt, how came Falſtalſſs ſword
ſo hackt?

Peto. Why, hee hackt it with his dagger, and ſaid hee would
ſware trueth out of England, but he would make you beleeue
it was done in fight, and perſwaded vs to doe the like.

Car. Yea, and to tickle our noſes with ſpeare-graſſe, to make them bleed, and then to befubber our garments with it, and ſware it was the bloud of true men. I did that I did not this ſen ſyere before, I bluſht to heare his monſtrous deuices.

Prin. O villaine, thou stoſed a cup of Sacke eighteene ygers ago, and wert taken with the maner, and euer ſince thou hait bluſht extempore, thou hadst fire and ſword on thy ſide, and yet thou ranſt away: what inſtinſt hadſt thou for it?

Bar. My Lord, do you fee these meteors: do you behold these exhalations?

Bar. What thinke you they portend?

Prin. Hot lucers, and cold purſes.

Bar. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken.

Enter Falſtalſſe.

Prin. No, if rightly taken, halter. Here comes leane Iacke,
here comes bare bone: how now my ſwecte creature of bum-
баſt, how long is't ago, Iacke, ſince thou faw it thine owne knee?

Fal. My owne knee? when I was about thy yeeres (Hal) I was not an Eagles talent in the waſſe: I could haue crept into any Aldermans thumbe ring; a plague of ſhining & grieſe, it blowes a man vp like a bladder. Ther's villainous newes abroad, here was fir John Bracy from your father: you muſt to the Court in the morning. That fame ſiad fellow of the North, Percy, and he of Wales, that gaue Amamon the baſtinaſſo, and made Luſcifer cruckold, and ſwere the diuell his true liegeman vpon the croſſe of a Welſh hooke: what a plague call you him?

Poines. O, Glendower.

Fal. Owen, Owen, the fame, and his ſonne in law Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that ſprightly Scot of Scottes, Dowglas, that runnes a horſe-backe vp a hill perpencicular.

Prin. He that rides at high ſpeede, and with his pistol killes a
ſparrow flying.

Fal.

of Henry the fourth.

Fal. You haue hit it.

Prin. So did he neuer the ſparrow.

Fal. Well, that rafcall hath good mettall in him, hee will not
rune.

Prin. Why, what a rafcall art thou then, to praisſe him ſo for
running?

Fal. A horſe-backe (yeuckow) but afoote he will not budge a foote.

Prin. Yes Iacke, vpon inſtinſt.

Falſt. I grant ye, vpon inſtinſt: well, he is there too, and one Mordacke, and a thouſand blew caps more. Worcester is toſone away to night, thy fathers beard is turnd white with the newes, you may buy land now as cheape, as ſtinking Mackrel.

Prin. Why then, it is like, if there come a hotte lune, and this ciuill buſling hold, we shall buy maidenheads, as they buy hob-nailes, by the hundreds.

Falſt. By the maſſe, lad, thou faſt true, it is like we shall haue good trading that way: but, tell me, Hal, art not thou horrible aſeard? thou being heire apparent, could the world picke thee out of three such enemies agame, as that fiend Dowglas, that ſpi-rit Perey, & that diuell Glendower? art thou not horribly aſaide; doth not thy bloud thrill at it?

Prin. Not a whit ifaith, I lacke ſome of thy inſtinſt.

Falſt. Well, thou wilt be horribly chidde to morrow when thou commeſt to thy father, if thou loue mee: practice an an-ſwere.

Prince. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me vpon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I? content. This chaire shall be my ſtate, this dag-
ger my ſepter, and this cushion my crowne.

Prin. Thy ſtate is taken for a ioynd toole, thy golden ſepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crowne, for a pitiful bald crowne.

Fal. Well, and the fire of grace bee not quite out of thee,
now ſhalt thou be mooued. Giue mee a cup of Sacke to make
my eyes looke reddè, that it may bee thought I haue wept,
for I muſt ſpeake in paſſion, and I will do it, in king Cambyses
vaine.

Prince.

E 2

The Historie

Prince. Well, here is my leg.

Fal. And here is my speech; stand aside, Nobilitie.

Ho. O Iefu, this is excellent sport, I faith.

Fal. Weepe not, sweet Queene, for tricking teares are vain.

Ho. O the father, how he holds his countenance?

Fal. For Gods sake, Lords, conuy my trutfull Queene,

For teares do stop the floud-gates of her eyes.

Ho. O Iefu, he doth it, as like one of theie harlotie plaiers, as euer I see.

Fal. Peace, good pint-pot, peace, good tickle-braine.

Harry, I doe not onely maruaile, where thou spendest thy
time; but alio, how thou art accompanied. For, though the cam-
momil, the more it is troden on, the falter it growes: so youth,
the more it is wafted, the sooner it weares: that thou art my son,
I haue partly thy mothers word, partly my owne opinion, but
chiefly, a villanous tricke of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of
thy neather lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be sonne to
me, here lies the point: why, beeing sonne to mee, art thou so
pointed at? Thall the bleffed sonne of heauen, prooue a micher,
and eat blacke-berries? a quention not to be askt. Shall the son
of England, prooued a theefe, and take parfies a quention to be
askt. There is a thing, Harry, which thou haft often heard of,
and it is known to many in our land, by the name of pitch. Thus
pitch, (as ancient writers do report) doth defile: so doth the co-
panie thou keepeft: for Harry, now, I doe not speake to thee in
drinke, but in teares; not in pleafure, but in pafisio; not in words
only; but in woes alio; and yet there is a vertuous man, whom
I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.

Prin. What manner of man, and it like your Maiestie?

Fal. A goodly portly man, faith, and a corpulent, of a cheere-
full looke, a pleasing eie, & a moft noble carriage, & as I think,
his age some fiftie, or birlady, inclining to threecore, and now
I remember mee, his name is Falſtalſe; if that man should bee
lewdly giuen, hee deceiuth me. For Harry, I fee vertue in his
looke: if then the tree may bee knowne by the fruit, as the
fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speake it, there is vertue in
that Falſtallſe, him keepe with, the reſt banifh & tel me now,
thou naughtie varlet, tell me, where haſt thou bin, this month?

Prin.

of Henry the fourth.

Prin. Doft thou speake like a king, do thou stand for me, and
ile play my father.

Fal. Depofe me, if thou doſt it half so graueſly, so maietical-
ly both in word and matter, hang me vp by the heeles for a rab-
bet fucker, or a poulters Hare.

Prin. Well, here I am fet.

Falſ. And here I stand, indge, my matters.

Prin. Now, Harry, wher ce come you?

Falſ. My noble Lord, from Eailcheape.

Prince. The complaints I heare of thee, are grieuous.

Falſ. Zblood, my Lords, they are faile: may, ile tickle ye for a
yong prince I faith.

Prin. Swear it thou, yngracious boy? henceforth ne're leoke
on me, thou art violently carried away from grace; there is a de-
uill haunts thee, in the likenefle of an olde fat man, a tun of man
isthy companion: why doſt thou conuerfe with that twunkie of
humours, that boulting butch of beaſtneſſe, that twolne parcell
of dropſies, that huge bombard of ſacke, that ſluft cloak, eag of
guts, that roſted Manningtree Oxe with the pudding in his bel-
ly, that reuerent vice, that gray iniquitie, that father ruſtian, that
vanitie in yeeres? wherein is he good, but to take ſacke & drinke
it; wherein neat & cleanly, but to carue a capon & eat it where-
in cunning, but in craft? wherein craftie, but in villanies where-
in villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

Falſ. I would your grace would take mee with you, whomel
means your grace.

Prince. That villanous abominable milleader of youth: Fal-
ſtallſe, that olde white bearded Sathan.

Falſ. My Lord, the man I know.

Prin. I know, thou doſeſt.

Falſ. Butto ſay, I know more harme in him then in my ſelf,
were to ſay more then I know: that he is old, the more the pie-
tie, his white haires doe witneſſe it, but that he is fauing your re-
uerence, a whomer after, that I vtterly deny: if ſacke and sugar
be a fault, God helpe the wicked; if to be old and mery be a fin,
the many an old haſt that I know is damn'd; if to be fat, he to be
hated, the Pharaos leane kine are to be loued. No, my good lord,
banifh Peto, banifh Bartol, banifh Pecines, but for to weet ſacke

E 3

Falſtallſe,

The Historie

Falfalffle, kinde lacke Falftalffe, true Jacke Falftalffe, valiant Jacke Falftalffe, and therefore more valiant, being as he is olde Jacke Falftalffe, banifh not him thy Harries companie, banifh not him thy Harries companie, banifh plumpe Jacke, and banifh all the world.

Prin. I, do, I will.

Enter Bardoll running.

Bar. O, my Lord, my Lord, the Sherife, with a molit mon-
ftrous watch, is at the door.

Fal. Out you rogue, play out the play: I haue much to say in the behalfe of that Falftalffe.

Enter the Hozefie.

Hoz. O Iefu, my Lord, my Lord!

Prince. Heigh, heigh, the diuel rides vpon a fiddle flicke,
what's the matter?

Host. The Sherife and al the watch are at the door, they are
come to search the houfe, shall I let them in?

Fal. Does't thou heare, Hal? neuer call a true piece of golde a
counterfet, thou art effentially made without feeming so.

Prince. And thou, a naturall coward without infirmity.

Fal. I deny your Maior, if you will deny the Sherife so, if not,
let him enter. If I become not a Cart as well as another man, a
plague on my bringing vp: I hope I shall as soone be strangled
with a halter as another.

Prin. Go, hide thee behinde the Arras, the rest walke vp a-
boue: now my mafters, for a true face, and good confience.

Fal. Both which I haue had, but their date is out, and there-
fore ile hide nie.

Prin. Call in the Sherife.

Enter Sherife and the Carrier.

Prin. Now, mafter Sherife, what is your will with me?

Sbe. First, paidon me, my Lord. A hve and cry hath followed
certaine men ynto this houfe.

Prin. What men?

Sbe. One of them is well knowne, my gracious Lord, a groffe
fat man.

Car. As fat, as butter.

Prin. The man, I do affure you is not here.

For I my selfe at this time haue imploid hun:

And

of Henry the fourth.

And Sherife, I will ingage my word to thee,
That I will by to morrow dinner time,
Send him to anfwere thee or any man,
For anything he shall be charg'd withal,
And so let me intreat you leave the house.

Sbe. I will, my Lord: there are two gentlemen
Hae, in this robbery, loft 300. marks.

Prin. It may be so: if he haue rob'd these men,
He shall be anfiverable: and so farewell.

Sbe. God night, my noble Lord.

Prin. I thinke it is god morrow, is it not?

Sbe. Indeed, my Lord, I thinke it be two a clocke.

Exin.

Prin. This oylie rafcal is knowne as well as Poules: go call
him forth.

Peto. Falftalffe: faft asleepe behinde the Arras, and fornting
like a horfe.

Pri. Harke, how hard he fetches breath, search his pockets.

He searcheth his pocket, and findeth certaine papers.

Prin. What haft thou found?

Per. Nothing but papers, my Lord.

Prin. Let's see what they be: read them.

Item, a capon. 2 s. i. d.
Item, lawce. iii. d.
Item, facke, two gallons. v. s. vi. d.
Item, anchaues and facke after supper. 2 s. vi. d.
Item, bread. ob.

O moltrous! but one halfepenworth of bread to this intole-
rable deale of facke? what there is else keep close, wee'le read it at
more aduantage: there let him fleeep till day,ile to the court in
the morning. We muft all to the warres, and thy place shall be
honorable. Ile procure this fat rogue a charge of foote, and I
know his death wil be a march of twelue score, the money shall
be paid backe againe with aduautage, bee with me betimes in
the morning, and fo good morrow Peto.

Peto. Good morrow, good my Lord. Exennt.

Enter Hotspur, Woreſſer, Lord Motimer,

Owen Glendower.

Mor. These promifes are faire, the parties lute,

And

The Historie

And our induction full of prosperous hope.

Hot. Lord Mortimer, and coofen Glendower wily you fit down?
and Vncle Worcester; a plague upon it, I haue forgot the map.

Glendow. No, here it is; fit Coofen Percie, fit good Coofen
Hotipur, for by that name, as oft as Lancafter duth I speak of you,
his cheeke looks pale, and with a riling fighte he witheth you in
heauen.

Hot. And you in hell, as oft as he heares Owen Glendower
spoke of.

Glen. I cannot blame him; at my naturie
The front of heauen was full of fierie shapes
Of burning treflets, and at my birth
The frame and foundation of the earth
Shaked like a coward.

Hot. Why, so it would haue done at the fame season, if your
mothers cat had but Kittened, though your selfe had neuer bene
borne.

Glen. I say, the earth did shake when I was borne.
Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my minde,
If youuppofe, as fearing you, it hooke.
Glen. The heauens were all on fire, the earth did tremble,
Hot. Oh, then the earth hooke to fee the heauens on fires.
And not in feare of your naturie,
Diseafed nature oftentimes breaks forth

In strange eruptions, oft the teeming earth
Is with a kind of collicke pincht and yex't,

By the aprifoning of vnruly winds,
Within her wombe, which for enlargement (friuing),
Shakes the old Beldame earth, and topples downe
Steeples and moffegrowen towers. At your birth
Our Grandam earth, hauing this diftemprature
In passion hooke.

Glen. Coofen, of many men
I do not beare these crosings: give me leaue
To tell you once againe, that at my birth
The front of heauen was full of fierie shapes,
The goates ran from the mountains, and the heards
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.

These

of Henry the fourth.

These fignes haue markt me extraordinary,
And all the courtes of my life doe shew,
I am not in the role of common men:
Where is he liuing, clipt in with the tea,
That chides the bancks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which cals me pupill, or hath read to me?
And bring him out, that is but womans fonne,
Can trace me in the tedious waies of Arte,
And hold me pace, in deepe experiments.

Hot. I thinke, there's no man that speaks better Welsh:
Ile to dinner.

Mor. Peace, coofen Percy, you will make him mad.

Glen. I can call spirits from the vafty deepe.

Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man?

But will they come, when you doe call for them?

Glen. Why, I can teach you coofen, to command the deuill.

Hot. And I can teach thee, coofe, to shame the deuill,

By telling trueth. Tell trueth and shame the deuill:

If thou haue power to rayle lum, bring him hither,

And ile be (worne), I haue power to shame him hence:

Oh while you liue, tell trueth and shame the deuill.

Mor. Come, come, no more of this vnprofitable chat.

Glen. Three times hath Henry Bullingbrooke made head
Against my power, thrice from the bancks of Wyc,
And fandy bottomd Seuerne haue I sent him
Bootles home, and weather-beaten backe.

Hot. Home without bootes, and in foule weather too?
How capes he agues, in the deuill's name?

Glen. Come, here is the map, that we deuide our right,
According to our threefold order tane?

Mor. The Arch-deacon hath deuided it
Into three limits, very equally :
England from Trent, and Seuerne hitherto,
By South and East, is to my part aignight:
All Westward, Wales beyond the Seuerne shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower: and deare coofe, to you,
The remnant Northward, lying off from Trent,

F And

The Hiftorie

And our indentures tripartite are drawne,
Which being sealed enterchangeably,
(A busineſſe that this night may execute:)
To morrow, coofen Percy, you and I,
And my good Lord of Worceſter, will fet forth
To meet your father, and the Scotiſh power,
As is appointed vs, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
Nor ſhall we need his helpe these fourteene daies:
Within that ſpace, you may haue drawn together
Your tenants, friends, & neighbouring gentlemen.
Glen. A ſhorter time ſhall ſend me to you, Lords,
And in my conduct ſhall your Ladies come,
From whom you now muſt ſteale, & take no leaue,
For there will be a world of water ſhed,
Vpon the parting of your wiues and you.

Hot. Me thinks, my moity North from Burton here,
In quantitie equals not one of yours:
See, how this riuer comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the belt of all my land,
A huge halſe moone, a monſtrous ſcantle out:
Ile haue the currant in this place damnd vp,
And here the ſmug and filuer Trent ſhall run.
In a new channell, faire and euely,
It ſhall not wind, with ſuch a deepe indent,
To rob me of so rich a bottome here.

Glen. Not wind? it ſhall, it muſt, you ſee it doth.

Mor. Yea, but marke, how he beares his courſe, and runs me
vp, with like aduantage 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 Northſide, win this cape of land,
And then he runs ſtraight, and euen.

Hot. Ile haue it so, a little charge will doe it.

Glen. Ile not haue it altred.

Hot. Will not you?

Glen. No, nor you ſhall not.

Hot. Who ſhall ſay me nay?

Glen.

of Henry the fourth.

Glen. Why, that will I.

Hot. Let me not vnderland you then, ſpeake it in Welſh,

Glen. I can ſpeake English, Lord, as well as you,

For, I was traind vp in the English Court,
Where, being but yong, I framed to the harpe
Many an English ditty, louely well,

And gaue the tongue a helpefull ornament:

A vertue, that was neuer ſeene in you.

Hot. Marry, and I am glad of it, with all my heart,
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew,

Then one of these fame miter ballet-mongers:

I had rather heare a braſen canſticke turnd,
Or a drie wheele grate on the axle-tree,
And that would fet my teeth nothing an edge,

Nothing so much as minſing Poetry:

T'is like the force gate of a ſhuffling nag.

Glen. Come, you ſhall haue Trent turnd.

Hot. I do not care, Ile giue thrice so much land,
To any well deferuing friend:

But in the way of bargaine, marke ye me:

Ile cauill on the ninth part of a haire.

Are the Indentures drawne? ſhall we be gone?

Glen. The Moone ſhines faire, you may away by night
Ile haſte the writer, and withall,

Breake with your wiues, of your departure hence,
I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

So much ſhe doteth on her Mortimer.

Exit.

Mor. Fie, coofen Percy, how you croſſe my father.

Hot. I cannot chufe, ſometime he angers me
With telling me of the Moldwarpe and the Ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies :

And, of a Dragon and a finſſe fifth,
A clip-winged Griffin and a moulten rauen,
A couching Lyon, and a ramping Cat,
And ſuch a deale of skimble skamble ſtuffe,
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,
He held me laſt niglit, at laſt, nine hours,

In reckoning vp the ſeueral diuels names

F 2

That

The Historie

That were his lackie: I cried hum, and well, go to,
But markt him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tyred horse, a railing wife,
Worfe then a smoky houfe. I had rather liue
With cheefe and garlike in a Windmill far,
Then feede on cates, and haue him talke to me,
In any fummer-houfe in Chriftendome.

Mor. In faith he is a worthy Gentleman,
Exceedingly well read and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
And wondrous affable; and as bountifull
As mines of India: shall I tell you, coofen,
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himselfe, euen of his naturall scope,
When you come croffe his humor, faith he does:
I warrant you, that man is not a lue,
Might so haue tempted him, as you haue done,
Without the tate of danger and reproofe:
But doe not vfe it oft, let me intreat you.

Wor. In faith, my Lord, you are too wilfull blame,
And fince your comming hither haue done enough
To put him quite befide his patience:
You muft needs learne, Lord, to amend this faeult,
Though sometimes it shew greatneſſe, courage, bloud,
And that's the deareſt grace it renders you,
Yet oftentimes it doth preſent harſh rage,
Defect of maners, want of government,
Pride, hautineſſe, opinion, and diſdaine,
The leaſt of which, hanting a noble man,
Loſeth mens hearts, and leaues behind a ſtaine
Vpon the beautie of all parts befides,
Beguiling them of commendation.
Hot. Well, I am ſchoold, good maners be your ſpeed,
Here come our wines, and let vs take our leaue.

Enter Glendower with the Ladies.

Mor. This is the deadly ſpight that angers me,
My wife can ſpeake no English, I no Welsh.

Glen. My daughter weepes, shee'le not part with you,
Shee'le

of Henry the fourth.

Shee'le be a ſouldier too, shee'le to the wars.

Mor. Good father tell her, that she, and my Aunt Percy
Shal follow in your conduct ſpeedily.

Glendower ſpeakes to her in Welsh, and ſhe anſwere
him in the ſame.

Glen. Shee is desperate here,
A peeuſh ſelfe wilde harlotie, one that no perſwafion can doe
good vpon.

The Lady ſpeakes in Welsh.

Mor. I vnderſtand thy lookes, that prettie Welsh,
Which thou powſt eſt downe from theſe ſwelling heauens,
I am too perſect in, and but for ſhame.
In ſuch a parley should I anſwere thee.

The Lady againe in Welsh.

Mor. I vnderſtand thy killes, and thou mune,
And that's a feeling disputation:
But I will neuer be a truant loue,
Till I haue learn'd thy language, for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly pend,
Sung by a faire Queene in a funmers bowre,
With rauilhing diuifion to her Lute.

Glen. Nay, if you melt, then will I faire mad.

The Lady ſpeakes againe in Welsh.

Mor. O, I am ignorance it ſelfe in this.

Glen. She bids you on the wanton rufhes lay you downe,
And reſt your gentle head vpon her lap,
And ſhe will ſing the ſong that pleafeth you,
And on your eyelids crowne the God of ſleepe,
Charming your blood with pleafing heauineſſe,
Making tuch difference twixt wake and ſleep,
As is the difference betwixt day and night,
The houre before the heauenly harmeſt teeme
Begins his golden progreſſe in the Eaſt.

Mor. With all my heart, ile fit and heare her ſing,
By that time will our booke I thinke be drawne.

Glen. Do so, and thofe muſicions that shall play to you,
Hang in the aire a thouſand leagues from hence,
And straight they ſhall be here, fit and attend.

F 3

Hot

The Historie

Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying downe:
Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap,
La. Go, ye giddy googe.

The musicke player.

Hot. Now, I perceive the diuel vnderstands Welsh,
And't is no maruaile he is so humorous,
Birlady he is a good muſician.

La. Then should you be nothing but muſical,
For you are altogether gouerned by humours:

Lie full, ye thieſe, and heare the lady ſing in WELſH.

Hot. I had rather heare, lady, my brache howle in Irifhe.

La. Would it thou haue thy head broken?

Hot. No.

La. Then be still.

Hot. Neither, t'is a womans fault.

La. Now God helpe thee.

Hot. To the Welsh Ladies bed.

La. What's that?

Hot. Peace, she ſings.

Here the Lady ſings a Welsh ſong.

Hot. Come, Kate, ile haue your ſong too.

La. Not mine in good footh.

Hot. Not yours in good footh? Hart, you ſweare like a comſit-
makers wife, not you in good footh, and as true as I lie, and as
God shall mend me, and as faire as day :
And giueth ſuch farcenet ſuretie for thy oathes,
As if thou neuer walk't further then Pinsburie.
Sweare me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouthſilling oath, and leaue in footh,
And ſuch protest of pepper ginger bread
To veluet gards, and Sunday Citizens.
Come, ſing.

La. I will not ſing.

Hot. This is the next way to turne tayler, or be redbreſt teacher:
and the indentures be drawne, ile away within theſe two hours,
and to come in when ye will.

Exit.

Glen. Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as flow,
As Hot, Lord Percy, is on fire to goe :

By

of Henry the fourth.

By this our booke is drawne, we'e but ſaſe,
And then to horse immediately.

Mor. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, and others.

King. Lords, giue vs leaue, the Prince of Wales and I,
Muſt haue ſome priuat conference, but be neere at hand,
For we ſhall prefently haue neede of you.
I knowe not whether God will haue it so,
For ſome displeaſing ſeruice I haue done,
That in his ſecret doome, out of my blood,
Hee'le breed reuengement and a ſcourge for me;
But thou doest in the paſtages of life,
Make me beleeeue that thou art onely mark't,
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heauen,
To puniſh my miſtreadings. Tell me ofſe,
Could ſuch inordinate and low deſires,
Such poore, ſueh bare, ſuch lewd, ſuch meane attempts,
Such barren pleaſures, rude ſocietie,
As thou art match't with all, and grafted to,
Accompany the greatneſſe of thy blood,
And hold their leuell with thy princely heart?

Exeunt Lords.

Prin. So please your Maiestie, I would I could
Quit all offences with as cleare excufe,
As well as I am doubtſſe I can purge
My ſelpe of many I am charg'd withall :
Yet ſuch extenuation let me beg,
As in reproof of many tales deuifde,
Which oft the care of greatnes needes muſt heare,
By smiling pick thanks and bare newes mongers,
I may for ſome things true, wherein my youth
Hath faltie wandered, and irregular,
Find pardon, on my true ſubmission.

Kin. God pardon thee, yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy auncerors,
Thy place in counſell thou haſt rudely loſt,
Which by thy yonger brother is ſupplide,
And art almoſt an alien to the hearts

Of

The Hiftorie

Of all the Court and princes of my blood,
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin'd, and the foule of euery man
Prophetically doe forethinke thy fall :
Had I so laith of my prefence beene,
So common hackneid in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheape to vulgar companie,
Opinion that did helpe me to the crowne,
Had still kept loyall to poſſession,
And left me in reputeleſe baniſhment,
A fellow of no marke nor likelihoode.
By being ſeldome ſeene, I could not ſtire,
But like a Comet, I was wondred at,
That men would tell their children, This is he :
Others would ſay, Where, which is Bullingbrook?
And then I ſtole all courteſe from heauen,
And drest my ſelfe in ſuch humilitie,
That I did plucke allegiance from mens hearts,
Loud ſhouts, and falutations from their mouths,
Euen in prefence of the crowned King.
Thus did I keepe my perſon fresh and new,
My prefence like a robe pontificall,
Ne're ſeene, but wondred at, and ſo my ſtate
Seldome, but ſumptuous, ſhewed like a feaſt,
And wan by rareneſſe ſuch ſolemnitie,
The skipping King, he ambled vp and downe,
With ſhallow ieſters, and rash bauin wits,
Soone kindled, and ſoone burnt, carded his ſtate,
Mingled his royalty with carping ſooles,
Had his great name prophaned with their ſeorneſ,
And gaue his countenance against his name
To laugh at gibing boyes, and ſtand the puſh
Of euery beardlelle vaine comparatine,
Grew a companion to the common ſtreetes,
I neeſt him ſelſe to popularitie,
That being dayly ſwallowed by mens eyes,
They ſurſetted with ſhony, and began to loath
The talle of sweeteneſſe, whereof a little

More

of Henry the fourth.

More then a little, is by much too much,
So when he had occasion to be ſeene,
He was, but as the Cuckow is in June,
Heard, not regarded: ſeene, but with ſuch eyes
As ſicke and blunted with communitie,
Afioord no extraordinary gaze.
Such as is bent on ſun-like Maieſtie,
When it ſhines ſeldome in admiring eyes,
But rather drowzd, and hung their eye-lids down,
Slept in his face, and rendred ſuch aspeet,
As cloudy men vſe to their aduerfaries,
Being with his prefence glutted, gorged, and full,
And in that very line, Harry, I standelt thou,
For, thou haſt loſt thy princely privilege,
With vile participation. Not an eye,
But is aweary of thy common fight,
Sauē mine, which that is defred to ſee the more,
Which now doth that I would not haue it doe,
Make blind it ſelfe with ſooliſh tenderneſſe.

Prin. I ſhall hereafter, my thrice gracious Lord,
Be more my ſelfe. King. For all the world,
As thou art to this houre, was Richard then, I haue
When I from France fet foot at Rauenspurgh,
And euen as I was then, is Percy now:
Now, by my ſcepter, and my ſoule to boote,
He hath more worthie intereſt to the ſtate,
Then thou, the ſhadow of ſuſeession.
For of no right, nor colour like to right,
He doth fill fields with harnefſe in the Realeme,
Turns head against the Lyons armed iawes,
And being no more in debt to yeeres, then thou,
Leads ancient Lords, and reuerend Bishops on,
To blueoudie battraines, and to bruing armes.
What neuer dying honour hath he got,
Against renowned Dowglas? Whofe high deeds,
Whofe hot incurſions, and great name in armes,
Holds from all fouſdijours, chiefe maioritie,
And militarie title capitall

G

Through

The Historie

Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ,
Thrice hath this Hotspur Mars in swathing clothes,
This infant warrior, in his enterprises,
Disconfited great Douglas, ta'ne him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deepe defiance vp,
And shake the peace and safety of our throne,
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
The Archbishops grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
Capitulate against vs, and are vp,
But, wherefore doe I tell these newes to thee?

And

of Henry the fourth,

And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory vp,
Yea, even the lightest worth of his time,
Or I will teare the reckoning from his heart.
This, in the name of God, I promise here,
The which, if he be pleased, I shall performe:
I do befeech your Maiefty may fale.

Enter Blunt.

Blunt. So hath the buſines, that I come to ſpeake of,
Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath ſent word,
That Douglas and the English Rebers met,
The eleuenth of this moneth, at Shrewsbury,
A mighty, and a ſcarefull head they are,
(If promises be kept on every hand)
As euer offered ſoule play in a ſtate.

Exeunt.

Enter Falſtalſſe and Bardol.

Fal. Bardol, am I not falne away vilely ſince this laſt action?
do I not bate? doe I not dwindle? Why, my ſkin hangs about
me, like an old Ladies loose gowne. I am wathered like an old
apple John. Well, ile repent, and that suddenly, while I am in
some

ſome

G 2

The Historie

some liking, I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall haue no strength to repent. And I haue not forgotten what the inside of a Church is made of, I am a pepper corner, a brewers horfe, the inside of a Church. Company, villainous company hath beene the spoile of me.

Bar. Sir John, you are so fretfull, you can not lie long.

Fal. Why, there is it, come, sing me a bawdie song, make mee merry. I was as vertuously giuen, as a gentleman need to be, vertuous enough, swore little, dic't not aboue seuen times a weeke, went to a bawdy house, not aboue once in a quarter of an hour, paid money that I borrowed three or foure times, liued well, and in good compaſſe; and now I lie out of all order, out of all compaſſe.

Bar. Why, you are so fat, fir Iohn, that you muſt needs bee out of all compaſſe: out of all reasonable compaſſe, fir Iohn.

Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and ile amend my life: thou art our Admiral, thou beareſt the lanterne in the poope, but 'tis in the noſe of thee: thou art the knight of the burning lampe.

Bar. Why, fir Iohn, my face does you no harme.

Fal. No, ile bee sworne, I make as good vſe of it, as manna man doth of a deaths head, or a memento mori. I neuer lee thy face, but I thinke vp on hell fire, and Dives that liued in Purple: for there he is in his robes burning, burning. If thou wert any way giue to vertue, I would sweare by thy face: my othe should bee, By this fire that Gods Angell. But thou art altogether ouer: and wert indeede, but for the light in thy face, the fonne of vitter darkenesſe. When thou ranſt vp Gads hill in the night, to catch my horſe, if I did not thinke, thou hadit bin an ignis fatuus, or a ball of wild-fire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetuall triumph, an everlaſting bon-fire light, thou haſt fauèd me, a thousand Marks in Links, and Torches, walking with thee in the night, between Tauerne and Tauerne: but the facke, that thou haſt drunke mee, would haue bought mee lights as good cheape, at the deareſt Chandlers in Europe. I haue maintained that Sallamander of yours, with fire, any time this two and thirtie yeeres, God reward me for it.

Bar. Zbloud, I would my face were in your belly.

Fal. Godamercy, so should I be sure to be heart-burnt.

How

of Henry the fourth.

How now, dame Partlet the hen, haue you enquir'd Enter hoff.
yet who pick't my pocket?

Hof. Why fir Iohn, what doe you thinke, fir Iohn? Doe you thinke I keepe theeues in my house? I haue farch't, I haue enquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, ſeruant by ſeruant: the tight of a haire, was neuer loft in my house before.

Falf. Ye lie, Hottelle, Bärdoll was ſlau'd and loft many a haire: and ile be ſworne, my pocket was pick't: go to, you are a woman, go.

Hof. Who, I? No, I defie thee: Gods light, I was neuer cal'd so in mine owne house before.

Falf. Go to. I know you well enough.

Hof. No, fir Iohn, you do not know me, fir Iohn: I know you fir Iohn, you owe me money, fir Iohn, and now you picke a quarrrell to beguile me of it: I bought you a douzen of shirts to your backe.

Falf. Doulas, filthy doulas. I haue giuen them away to Bakers wives, they haue made boulters of them.

Hof. Now as I am a true woman, holland of viii.s, an ell: you owe money here befides, fir Iohn, for your diet, and by drinks, and money lent you xxiii. pound.

Falf. He had his part of it, let him pay.

Hof. He? alas, he is poore, he hath nothing.

Fal. How? poore: looke vpon his face, What call you rich? let them coyne his noſe, let them coyne his cheekes, ile not pay a denyer: what, will you make a yonker of mee? I shall not take mine eafe in mine Inne, but I shall haue my pocket pickt: I haue loft a feale ring of my grandfathers, worth ſortie marke.

Hof. O Iefu! I haue heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper.

Falf. How? the prince is a lacke, a ſneakoup: Zblood and he were here, I would cudgell him like a dog, if he would fay to.

Enter the prince marching, and Falfialſſe meetes him

playing upon his trunchion like a fſe.

Falf. How now, lad? is't the winde in that doore ifath? muſt we all march?

Bar. Yea, two, and two, Newgate ſashion.

Hof. My Lord, I pray you heare me.

G 3.

Prin.

The Historie

Prin. What faift thou, miftris quickly: how doeth thy hus-
band? I loue him well, he is an honest man.

Hof. Good my Lord, heare me.

Falf. Prethee let her alone, and lift to me.

Prin. What faift thou, Iacke?

Falf. The other night, I fell alleepe here, behind the Arras,
and had my pocket pickt: this house is turn'd baudy house; they
pикe pockets.

Prin. What didst thou lofe, Iacke?

Fal. Wilthou beleeue me, Hal: three or foure bonds of for-
tie pound a piece, and a feale ring of my grandfathers.

Prin. A truſe, Iome eight pente matter.

Hof. So I told him, my Lord, and I faid, I heard your grace ſay
ſo: & my lord, he ſpeakes moſt vilely of you, like a foule mouth'd
man, as he is, and ſaid he would cudgel you.

Prin. What he did not?

Hof. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me ſelfe.

Falf. There's no more faith in thee, then a ſtued prune, nor
no more trueth in thee, then in a drawn foxe, and for woman-
hood, maid marió may be the deputies wife of the ward to thee,
Go, you thing go.

Hof. Say, what thing, what thing?

Falf. What thing? why athing to thanke God on.

Hof. I am nothing to thanke God on, I would thou shouldst ſt
know it; I am an honest mans wife, and fetting thy knighthood
aſide, thou art a knaue to call me ſo.

Fal. Setting thy womanhood aſide, thou art a beaſt to ſay o-
therwife.

Hof. Say, what beaſt, thou knaue thou?

Falf. What beaſt? why, an Otter.

Prince. An Otter, fir Iohn? why an Otter?

Falf. Why? ſhée's neither fifth nor fleſh, a man knowes not
where to haue her.

Hof. Thou art an vnioſt man, in ſaying ſo, thou or any man
knowes where to haue me, thou knaue thou.

Prin. Thou ſayt true, Hofteſſe, and hee flaunders thee moſt
groſſely.

Hof. So he doeth you, my Lord, and ſayd this other day, You
ought

of Henry the fourth.

ought him a thousand pound.

Prin. Sirra, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Falf. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy loue is worth a
million: thou oweſt me thy loue.

Hof. Nay, my Lord, he cald you Iacke, and faide hee woulde
cudgel you.

Falf. Did I, Bardol?

Bar. Indeed, fir Iohn, you ſayd so.

Falf. Yea, if he ſaid my ring was copper.

Prin. I ſay t'is copper: dareſt thou be as good as thy word now?

Falf. Why, Hal? Thou knoweſt as thou art, but man I dare,
but as thou art prince, I ſcare thee as I ſcare the roaring of the
Lyons whelpel.

Prin. And why not as the Lyon?

Fal. The king himſelfe is to be feared as the Lion: doesſt thou
thinke ile ſeare thee, as I ſcare thy father? nay, and I doe, I pray
God my girdle breake.

Prin. O, if it should, howe wouleth thy guts fall about thy
knees? but firra, there's no roome for faith, trueth, nor honesſle,
in this boſome of thine. It is all fil'd vp with guttes, and midriffe.
Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? why, thou
horeſon impudent imboſtraſcal, if there were any thing in thy
pocket, but tauerne reckonings, memorandums of baudy hou-
ſes, and one poore penworth of Sugar-candie to make thee
long wunded: if thy pocket were inrict with any other injuries
but theſe, I am a villaine; and yet you will it and to it, you wil not
pocket vp wrong: art thou not alhamed?

Fal. Doesſt thou heare, Hal? thou knoweſt in the ſtate of inno-
cencie Adam fell, & what should poore Iacke Falſtalſe do in the
dayes of villanie: thou ſeest I haue more fleſh then another man,
& therefore more frailty. You confefſe the you pickt my pocket.

Prin. It appears ſo by the ſtorie.

Fal. Hofteſſe, I forgiue thee, goe make ready breakfast, loue
thy husband, looke to thy feruantes, cheruſh thy gheſts, thou
ſhalt find me traſable to any honest reaſon: thou ſeest I am pa-
ciſed ſill: nay, prethee be gone.

Exit Hofſeſe.

Now, Hal, to the newes at court for the robbery, lad? how is that
anſwered?

Prin.

The Hiftorie

Prin. O, my sweete beoffe, I must full be good angel to thee,
the money is paid backe againe.

Fal. O, I do not like that paying backe, it is a double labour,
Pr. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

Fal. Rob me the Exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do
it with vnwaft't hands too.

Bar. Do, my Lord.

Prin. I haue procured thee, lacke, a charge of foote.

Fal. I would it had been of horfe. Where fhal I finde one that
can feale well? O, for a fine thiefe of the age of xxii, or therea-
bours; I am hainoufly vnprovided. Well, God be thanked for
these rebels, they offend none but the vertuous; I laude them, I
pray ye them.

Prin. Bardoll.

Bar. My Lord,

Pr. Go, beare this letter to Lord John of Lancafter,
To my brother John, this, to my lord of Westmerland,

Go, Peto, to horfe, to horfe, for thou and I

Hae thirtie miles to ride yet e're dinner time:

Lacke, meete me to morrow in the temple hall.

At two a clocke in the afternoone,

There shall thou know thy charge, and there receive

Money and order for their furniture.

The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

And either we or they mult lower lie.

Fal. Rare words, braue world. Herteelle, my breakefall, come,
Oh, I could wifh this tayerne were my drum.

Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.

Hot. Well said, my noble Scot, if speaking trueth
In this fine age, were not thought flattery,

Such attribution should the Douglas haue,

As not a fouldior of this seafons stampc,

Should go so generall curnart through the world:

By God, I cannot flatter, I defie

The tongues of soothers, but a brauer place

In my hearts loue hath no man then your selfe :

Nay, taske me to my word, approoue me, Lord.

Douglas. Thou art the King of honour,

No man so potent breathes vpon the ground,

But I will beard him.

Enter one with letters.

Hot.

of Henry the fourth.

Hot. Doe so, and is well: What letters haft thou there?
I can but thanke you.

Mef. These letters come from your father.

Hot. Letters from him? why comes he not himselfe?

Mef. He cannot come, my Lord, he is grieuous fice.

Hot. Zounds, how has he the leiture to be fike

In such a ufling time? who leads his power?

Vnder whole government come they along?

Mef. His letters beares his mind, not I my mind.

Hot. I prethee, tell me, doth he keepe his bed?

Mef. He did, my Lord, foure daies e're let forth,

And at the time of my departure thence,

He was much feard by his Phificians.

Hot. I would the state of time had first bin whole,
E're he by fickneſſe had bin viſited:

His health was neuer better worth then now.

Hot. Sicke now, droope now; this ficknes doth infect

The very life-blood of our enterprize,

Tis catching hither, euen to our campe:

He writes me here, that inward fickneſſe,

And that his friends by deputation

Could not so floone be drawn, nor did he think it meet,

To lay so dangerous and deare a truſt

On any foule remou'd, but on his owne,

Yet doth he giue vs bold aduertifement,

That with our finall conjunction, we should on,

To see how fortune is dispos'd to vs:

For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

Because the king is certainly poffeſt

Of all our purpofes: what lay you to it?

Hot. Your fathers fickneſſe is a maine to vs.

Hot. A perilous gash, a very limme lopt off,

And yet, in faith, it is not his prefent want

Seemes more, then we shall find it: were it good,

To let the exact wealth of all our states,

All at one caſt: to let so rich a maine,

On the nice hazzard of one doubtful houre?

It were not good, for therein should we read

H

The

## The Historie

The very boorne and the soule of hope,
The very lill, the very vtnoft bound

Of all our fortunes,

Doug. Faith, and so we should,

Where now remaines a sweet reuerfion,

We may boldly ſpend, vpon the hope, of what tis to come in:
A comfort of retirement lives in this.

Hot. A randeons, a home to ſlicve n'to,

If that the Diuell and mifchance looke big

Vpon the maiden-head of our affaires.

Ier. But yet I would your father had bin here:

The qualitie and haire of our attempt

Brookes no diuſion, it will be thought

By ſome, that know not why he is away,

That wifedome, loyaltie, and meere diſlike

Of our proceedings, kept the Earle from hence,

And thinke, how ſuch an apprehenſion

May turne the tide of feare full ſaction,

And breed a kind of question in our cause:

For, well you know, we of the ofiring ſide,

Muff keefe aloofe from ſtrict arbitrement,

And ſtop all fight-holes, every looke, from whence

The eye of reafon may prie in vpon vs.

This abſence of your fathers drawes a curtaigne,

That ſhewes the ignorant, a kind of ſeare

Before not dreamt of.

Hot. You ſtraine too far,

I rather of his abſence make this vſe,

It lends a luffre and more great opinion,

A larger dare to our great enterprife,

Then if the Earle were here: for men muſt thinke,

If we without his helpe can make a head

To pufh againſt a kingdome, with his helpe

We ſhall or'eturne it, topſie turuy downe,

Yet all goes well, yet all our ioynts are whole.

Doug. As heart can thinke, there is not ſuch a word.

Spoke of in Scotland, as this tearme of ſeare.

Enter Sir Rj. Vernon.

Hot.

## of Henry the fourth.

Hot. My coofen Vernon, welcome by my soule.

Ver. Pray God my newes be worth a welcome, lord,

The Earle of Westmerland, ſeuen thousand ſtrong,

Is marching hitherwards, with Prince John.

Hot. No harme, what more?

Ver. And further I haue learned,

The King himselfe in perſon is ſet forth,

Or hitherwards intended ſpedily,

With ſtrong and mighty preparation.

Hot. He ſhall be welcome too: where is his ſonne?

The nimble footed madcap, Prince of Wales?

And his Cumrades, that daſt the world aſide,

And bid it paffe?

Ver. All furniſht, all in Armies:

All plumde like Eſtridges, that with the wind

Batted like Eagles hauing lately bath'd,

Glittering in golden coats like images,

As full of ſpirit as the month of May,

And gorgeous as the ſunne at Midſomer,

Wanton as youthfull goates, wild as young buls.

I ſaw young Harry with his beuer on,

His cufhes on his thighs, gallantly armde,

Rife from the ground like feathered Mercury,

And vaulted with ſuch eafe into his ſeat,

As if an Angel dropt downe from the clouds,

To turne and wind a ſiery Pegasus,

And wench the world with noble horſemanhip.

Hot. No more, no more, worſe then the ſun in March.

This praiseth doth nourſh agues, let them come,

They come like ſacrifices in their trim,

And to the fire-cyd maid of ſmoky war,

All hot and bleeding will we offer them:

The mailed Mars shall on his altars fit

Vp to the eares in bloud. I am on fire

To heare this rich reprizall is so nigh,

And yet not ours: Come, let me tafe my horſe,

Who is to beare me like a thunderbolt,

Againſt the boſome of the Prince of Wales,

H 2

Harry

## The Historie

Harry to Harry, shall hot horse to horfe
Meet, and ne're part, till one drop downe a coarſer
Oh, that Glendower were come.

Ver. There is more newes,
I leard in Worcester, as I rode along,
He can draw his power this fourteene dayes.

Doug. That's the worſt things, that I heare of it.

Wor. I, by my farth, that beares a froſty found.

Hot. What may the kings whole battel reach vnto?

Ver. To thirty thousand.

Hot. Forty let it be.

My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of vs may ferue so great a day.

Come, let vs take a muſter ſpedilly,

Doomes day is neere, die all, die merrily.

Doug. Talke not of dying, I am out of feare
Of death or deaths hand, for this one halfe a year.

Exeunt.

Enter Falſt alſſe, and Bardoll.

Falſt. Bardol, get thee before to Couentry, fill me a bottle of Sacke, our ſouſtlers ſhall march through. Wee'le to Sutton cophill to night.

Bar. Will you giue me money, Captaine?

Fal. Lay out, lay out.

Bar. This bottle makes an angell.

Fal. And if it doe, take it for thy labour, and if it make twen-
ty, take them all, ile anſwere the coynage, bid my Lieutenant
Peto meet me at Townes end.

Bar. I will, Captaine, farewell. Exit.

Fal. If I be not aſhamed of my ſouldiers, I am a ſouſt gurnet,
I haue miſused the kings preſſe damnably. I haue got in ex-
change of 150 ſouldiers, 300, and odde pounds. I preſſe me
none, but good houſholders, Yeomen ſonnes, inquire me out
contracted batchelers, such as had beene askt twice on the
banes, such a commoditie of warme ſlaues, as had as lieue heare
the Diuell, as a drumme, such as ſeaue the report of a Caliuer,
worſe the aſtrooke foule, or a hurt wild-ducke: I preſſe me none,
but ſuch toſts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger
than pianes heads, and they haue bought out their ſeruices, and
now,

## of Henry the fourth.

now, my whole charge conſifts of Ancients, Corporals, Lieti-
tenants, gentlemen of companies, ſlaues as ragged as Lazarus in
the painted cloth, where the gluttons dogs licked his fores : and
such as indeed were neuer ſouldiers, but diſcarded, vnjuſt ſer-
ingmen, yonger ſonnes to yonger brothers, reuolted tapiters,
and Oſtlers tradefalne, the cankers of a calme world, and a long
peace, ten times more diſhonourable ragged, then an olde fazd
ancient, anduch haue I, to fill vp the roomes of them as haue
bought out their ſeruices, that you would thinke, that I had a
hundred and ſſttie tottered prodigals, lately come from ſwine
keeping, from eating draſſe and husks. A mad ſellowe met mee
on the way, and told me I had vnloaded all the Gibbets, and
preſſe the dead bodies. No eye hath ſeen euch skarcrowes. He
not march through Couentry with them, that's flat: nay, and
the villaines march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had giues on,
for indeede, I had the moſt of them out of prifon, there's not a
ſhirt and a halſe in all my companie, and the halſe ſhirt is two
napkins tack't together, and throwne ouer the shoulders like a
Heralds coate without ſleeues, and the ſhirt, to lay the trueth,
ſtolne from my hoſt at S. Albones, or the red-noſe Inkeeper of
Dauntry, but that's all one, the'le finde linnen inough on euery
hedge.

Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Wiltmerland.

Prin. How now, blowne lacke? how now, quilt?

Fal. What, Hal? how now, mad wag? what a duel doſt thou
in Warwick ſhire? My good L. of Wiltmerland, I cry you mer-
cie, I thought your honour had already bene at Shrewsbury.

Wesſ. Faith, fir Iohn, t's more then time that I were there,
and you too, but my powers are there already: the king I can tel
you, lookes for vs all, we muſt away all night.

Falſt. Tut, neuer ſeaue me, I am as vigilant as a Cat, to ſteale
Creame.

Prin, I thinke to ſteale Creame indeed, for thy theft hath al-
ready made thee butter: but tell me, lacke, whole ſellowes are
theſe that come after?

Falſt. Mine, Hal, mine.

Prin. I did neuer ſee ſuch pitifull rafcals.

Fal. Tut, tut, good enough to toſſe, ſoode for powder, ſoode for
fer

H 3

The Hiftorie

for powder, their fill a pit as well as a better: tuch man, mortall men, mortall men.

West. I, but, fir John, me thinkes they are exceeding poore and bare: too beggerly.

Fal. Faith, for their pouertie I know not where they had that; and for their bareneſſe I am ſure they neuer learn't that of me.

Pri. No, ile be ſworne, vnleſſe you cal three fingers in the ribs bare: but firra, make hatſe, Percy is already in the field.

Exit.
Fal. What, is the king incamp't?

Woff. He is, fir John, I ſcare we ſhall fly too long.

Fal. Well, to the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, fits a dull fighter, and a keene ghast.

Exeunt.

Enter Hot spur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.

Hot. Wee'le fight with him to night.

Wor. It may not be.

Doug. You giue him then aduantage.

Ver. Not a whit.

Hot. Why, ſay you ſo? looks he not for ſupply?

Ver. So do we.

Hot. His is certaine, ours is doubtfull,

Wor. Good coofen be aduis'd, fir not to night.

Ver. Do not, my Lord.

Doug. You doe not counſell well :

You ſpeak it out of ſeare, and cold heart.

Ver. Do me no ſlander, Douglas, by my life,

And if dare well maintaine it with my life,

If well reſpected honor bid me on,

I hold as little counſel with weake ſeare,

As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day lives :

Let be ſeene to morrow in the battell, which of vs ſeares,

Doug. Yea, or to night.

Ver. Content.

Hot. To night, ſay I.

Ver. Come, come, it may not be.

I wonder much, being men of ſuch great leading as you are,

That you foreſee not what impediments

Drag backe our expediſhion: certaine horſe

Of my coofen Verons are not yet come vp,

Your

of Henry the fourth.

Your Vncle Worceſters horſes came but to day,
And now their pride and metalli is alleepe,
Their courage with hard labour came and dull,
That not a horſe is halſe the halſe of himſelſe.

Hot. So are the horſes of the enemie,
In generall journey bated and brought low :
The better part of ours are full of reſt.

Wor. The number of the king exceedeth our:
For Gods ſake, coofen, fly till all come in.

The trumpet ſounds a parley. Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king,
If you vouchſaſe me hearing, and reſpect.

Hot. Welcome, fir Walter Blunt; and would to God
You were of our determination;

Some of vs loue you well, and euen thatſe ſome

Enuy your great deferuings and good name,

Becaufe you are not of our quality,

But ſtand againſt vs like an enemie.

Blunt. And God defend, but ſtill I should ſtand ſo,
So long as out of limit and true rule
You ſtand againſt anointed maieſtie.

But to my charge, The king hath ſent to know.

The nature of your grieues, and whereupon

You coniure from the breaſt of euill peace,

Such bold hoſtilitie, teaching his dutious land

Audations crueltie. If that the king

Haue any way your good deſerts ſorg ſ

Which he confefſeth to be manſold,

He bids you name your grieues, and with all ſpeede,

You ſhall haue your deſires with intereſt

And pardon abſolute for your ſelſe, and theſe

Herein miſſed by your ſuggelſion.

Hot. The king is kind: and we know, the king
Knowes at what time to promife, when to pay :

My father, and my vncle, and my ſelſe,

Did giue him that fame royaltie he weares,

And when he was not ſiſe and twentie ſtrong,

Sicke in the worlds regard, wretched and low,

A

The Hiftorie

A poore vnminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gaue him welcome to the shore:
And when he heard him weare and vow to God,
He came but to be Duke of Lancafter,
To fue his liuery, and beg his peace
With teares of innocencie, and tearmes of zeale,
My father in kinde heart and pittie mou'd,
Swore him af Assistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the Lords, and Barons of the realme,
Perceiv'd Northumberland did leane to him,
The more and lefle came in with cap and knee,
Met him in Boroughs, Cities, Villages,
Attended him on bridges, ftood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oathes,
Gaue him their heires, as Pages followed him,
Euen at the heeles, in golden multitudes,
He prefently, as greatnes knowes it selfe,
Steps me a little higher then his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poore,
Vpon the naked shore at Rauenpurgh,
And now forfooth takes on him to reforme
Some certaine edicts, and fome freight decrees
That lie too heauie on the Common-wealth,
Cryes out upon abufes, feemes to weepe
Ouer his Coutrie wrongs, and by this face,
This feeming brow of iuittice, did he winne
The hearts of all that he did angle for:
Proceeded further, cut me off the heads
Of all the fauourites that the absent king
In deputation left behinde him here,
When he was perſonall in the Irish warre.

*Blunt.* Tut, I came not to heare this.

*Hot.* Then to the point,
In ſhort time after, he depoſ'd the king,
Soone after that, depriu'd him of his life,
And in the necke of that, task't the whole ſtate:
To make that woorſe, ſuffred his kinsman March,
(Who is, if every owner were well plac'd,

Indeede

of Henry the fourth.

Indeed his king) to being'd in Wales,
There without ransome to lie forfeited,
Difgrac't me in my happie victories,
Sought to intrap me by intelligence,
Rated mine vnkle from the counſell boord,
In rage dismifd my father from the Court,
Broke othe on othe, committed wrong on wrong,
And in conclusion, droue vs to feeke out
This head of ſafetie, and withall to prie
Into his title, the which we find
Too indirect for long continuance.

*Blunt.* Shall I returne this anſwere to the king?

*Hot.* Not ſo, fir Walter. Wee'le withdraw a while.
Go to the King, and let there be impawnd
Some ſuretie for a ſafe returne againe,
And in the morning early ſhall mine vnkle
Bring him our purpofes, and ſo farewell.

*Blunt.* I would you would accept of grace and loue.

*Hot.* And may be, ſo we ſhall.

*Blunt.* Pray God you doe.

*Enter Archbishop of Yorke, and Sir Mighel.*

*Arch.* Hie, good fir Mighel, beare this feared briefe
With winged haſte to the Lord Marshall,
This tomy coofen Scroope, and all the rest
Towhom they are directed. If you knew
How much they doe import, you would make haſte.

*Sir M.* My good Lord, I gefle their tenor.

*Arch.* Like enough you doe.

To morrow, good fir Mighell, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thouſand men
Muſt bide the touch. For fir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truely giuen to vnderstand,
The king with mighty and quicke raiſed power,
Meetes with Lord Harry: Ant I feare, fir Mighell,
What with the ſickeneſſe of Northumberland,
Whole power was in the firſt proportion,
And what with Owen Glendowers abſence thence,
Who with them was a rated finew too,

I

And

And comes not in, ouer-rulde by prophecies,
I feare, the power of Percy is too weake,

To wage an infant triall with the king.

Sir M. Why, my good Lord, you need not feare,
There is Douglas, and Lord Mortuner.

Arch. No, Mortuner is not there.

Sir M. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head

Of gallant warriers, noble gentlemen.

Arch. And so there is, but yet the king hath drawne
The speciall head of all the land together.

The Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancafter,

The noble Westerland, and warlike Blunt,

And many mo' coruuals and deare men

Of estimation, and command in armes.

Sir M. Doubt not, my L, they shall be well oppos'd.

Arch. I hope no leffe, yet, need full't is to feare,

And to preuent the worl', fir Mighel, speed:

For if Lord Percy thrine not, e're the king

Disminffe his power, he meanes to visit vs.

For he hath heard of our confederacie,

And, tis but wifedome, to make strong against him

Therefore make halte, I muft goe write againe.

To other friends, and so farewell, fir Mighel. Exeunt.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancafter, Earl of Westerland, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaffe.

King. How bloudily the funne begins to peare
Aboue your busky hill, the day lookes pale

At his du TEMPRATURE.

Prin. The Southren wind

Doth play the trumpet to his purpofes,

And, by his hollow whiffling in the leaues,

Foretels a tempeft and a bluftring day.

King. Then, with the losers let it in, upathize,
For nothing can feeme foule to thofe that winne.

The trumpet sounds, Enter Worcester.

King. How now, my Lord of Worcester? is not wel,
That you and I should meet vpon such tearmes

As now we meet. You haue decei'd our truſt,

And made vs doffe our eafie robes of peace,

To cruſh our old hummes in vngentle ſteele:

This is not well, my Lord, this is not well.

What ſay you to it? will you againe vnknit?

This churlſh knot of all abhorred war?

And moue in that obedient orbe againe,

Where you did giue a faire and naturall light,

And be no more an exhal'd meteor,

A prodigie of ſeare, and a portent.

Of broched miſchieſe to the vnborne times.

Wor. Heare me, my Liege:

For mine owne part, I could be well content,

To entertaine the lag end of my life

With quiet houres. For I proteſt,

I haue not fought the day of this duſlike.

King. You haue not fought it: how comes it then?

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

Prin. Peace, chewet, peace.

Wor. It pleas'd your maieſtie to turne your lookes

Of fauour, from my ſelfe, and all our houſe,

And yet I muſt remember you, my Lord:

We were the firſt and deareſt of your friends,

For you my ſtaſſe of office did I breake

In Richards time, and poſt ed day and night

To meet you on the way, and kiffe your hand,

When yet you were in place and in account

Nothing ſo strong and fortunate as I.

It was my ſelfe, my brother and his ſonne,

That brought you home, and boldly did outdate

The dangers of the time. You ſwore to vs,

And you did ſware that ethe at Dancafter,

That you did nothing purpofe gainſt the ſtate,

Nor claine no further, then your new falne right,

The ſeat of Gaunt, Dukedome of Lancafter:

To this, we ſwore our aid: but in ſhort ſpace

I traind downe fortune ſhowring on your head,

And such a flood of greatneſſe fell on you,

12

What

What with our helpe, what with the absent king,
What with the injuries of a wanton time,
The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
And the contrarious winds that held the king
So long in his vnlucky Irish wars,
That all in England did repute him dead:
And from this fwarne of faire aduantages,
You tooke occasion to be quickly wooed
Togrippe the generall fway into your hand,
Forgot your other to vs at Dancafter,
And being fed by vs, you'd vs so,
As that vngentle gull the Cuckowes bird
Vfeth the Sparrow, did oppreſſe our neaſt,
Grew by our feeding to lo great a bulke,
That euen our loue durſt not come neer your fight,
For feare of ſwallowing: but with nimble wing
We were enforc't for safety fake, to ſlie
Out of your fight, and raile this preſent head,
Whereby we ſtand oppofed by ſuch meaneſ,
As you your ſelfe haue forſd againſt your ſelſe
By vnkind ſtage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworne to vs in your yonger enterprize.

King. These things indeed you haue articulate,
Proclaimed at market Croſſes, read in Churches,
To face the garment of rebellion,
With ſome fine colour that may pleafe the eye
Of fickle changelings and poore discontents,
Which gape and rub the elbow at the newes
Of hurly burly innotation,
And neuer yet did inſurreCTION want
Such water colours, to impair his cauſe,
Nor moody beggars, ſtaring for a time,
Of pell mell hauocke and confusion.

Prin. In both your armies there is many a ſoule,
Shall pay full dearely for this encounter,
If once they ioyne in triall, tell your nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth ioyne with all the world

In

in prace of Henry the vi. erc. by my nope.
This preſent interprize ſet of his head,
I doe not thinke a brauer Gentleman,
More active, valiant, or more valiant yong,
More daring, or more bold is now alue,
To grace this latter age with noble deede:
For my part, I may ſpeake it to my ſhame,
I haue a truant bene to chialric,
And so I heare, he doth account me too;
Yet this before my fathers maietie,
I am content, that he shall take the oddes
Of his great name and eſtimation,
And will, to ſaue the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him, in ſingle fight.

Kin. And prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
Albeit, considerations infinite.
Do make againſt it: no good Worcester, no:
We loue our people well, euen though we loue
That are miſled vpon your coofens part,
And will they take the offer of our grace,
Both he, and they, and you, yea every man
Shall be my friend againe, and ile be his,
So tell your coofen, and bring me word
What he will doe. But if he will not yeeld,
Rebuke and dread correction wait on vs,
And they shall doe their office. So be gone:
We will not now be troubled with replie,
We offer faire, take it auuisedly. Exit Worcester.

Prin. It will not be accepted on my life,
The Douglas and the Hotspur both together,
Are confident againſt the world in armes.
King. Hence therefore, every leader to his charge,
For on their anſwere will we let on them,
And God befriend vs, as our cauſe is in it.

Exeunt: manent
Fal. Hal, if thou see me downe in the battell
And beſtride me, so, t's a poynt of friendliſh.
Prin. Nothing but a Coloſſus can doe thee that friendliſh,
Say thy prayers, and farewell.

13

Fal.

Pay, I would it were bed time, Hal, and all well!
Prince, Why? thou oweft God a death.

Fauſ. Tis not due yet, I would he loth to pay him, before his
day; what neede I be so forward with him that cals not on me?
Well, tis no matter, honor pricks me on: yea, but how if honor
pricke me off when I come on? how then can honor fet to a leg?
no; or an arme? no; or take away the griefe of a wound? no; ho-
nor hath no skill in surgery then ? no: What is honour? a worde:
what is in that word: honor; what is that honour? are: a trim rec-
kingon. Who hath it? he that died a Wednesday, doth he feele
it? no: doth he heare it? no: is inſenſible then? yea: to the dead:
but will it not lieu with the liuing? no: why? deſtraſion will not
inſuer it, therefore ile none of it, honor is a meere skutchion, and
ſo ends my Catechisme.

Exit.

Enter: Worcester, and fir Richard. Ver non.

Wor. O no, my nephew muſt not know, fir Richard,
The liberall kinder offer of the king.

Ver. T were beſt he did.

Wor. Then are we all vnder one.

It is not poſſible: it cannot be
The king should keepe his word in louing vs,
He will tuipeſt vs ſtill, and finde a time
To punish this offence in other faults,
Suppofition, al our liues shall be flucke full of eyes,
For treaſon is but truſted like the Foxe,
Who neuer ſo fame, ſo cheriſt and lockt vp,
Will haue a wilde tricke of his ancettors:
Looke how we can, or fad, or merily;
Interpretation will miſ quote our lookes,
And we ſhall feed like oxen at a ſtall,
The better cheriſt, ſtill the neerer death.
My nevphes weſt relpalle may be well ſorgot,
It haueth the excuse of your ſtand and heat of blood,
And an adopted name of priuledge,
A hair-brand Hotſpur gouern'd by a ſpleene :
All his offences lie vpon my head
And on his fathers. We did traine him on,
And his corruption being tane from vs,

We

of I Henry the ſon of J. H. H.

We as the ſpring of all ſhall pay for all:
Therefore good coofen, let not Harry know,
In any cafe the offer of the king.

Enter Hotſpur.

Vc. Deliuer what you will, ile lay it on. Here coins your coofe,
Hot. My uncle is return'd.

Deliuer vp my Lord of Weſtmerland,
Uncle, what newes,

Wor. Theking will bid you battel preſently.
Doug. Dedeſe him by the Lord of Weſtmerland,
Hot. Lord Douglas, goe you and tell him so.
Dou. Marry and ſhal and very willingly. Exit Doug.

Wor. There is no ſeeming mercry in the king.
Hot. Did you beg any God forbid.

Wor. I tolde him gently of our griuances,
Of his oth breaking, which he mended thus
By now forſwearing that he is forſborne,
He call vs rebels, traitors, and will ſcourge
With hautie armes, this hatefull name in vs.

Enter Douglas.

Dou. Arme, gentlemen, to armes: for I haue throwne
A braue defiance in king Henries teeth,
And Weſtmerland that was ingag'd did bear it,
Which cannot chufe but bring him quickly on.
Wor. The Prince of Wales it kept forth before the king,

And, nephew, chaleng'd you to a ſingle fight,
Hot. O, would the quarrel lay vpon our heads,
And that no man might draw ſhort breath to day,
But I and Harry Monmonth: tell me, tell me,
How ſhewed his talking? ſeem'd it in contempt?

Ver. No, by my ſoule I neuer in my life,
Did heare a chalenge vrg'd more modettily,
Vnleſſe a brother should a brother dare,
To gentle exerſe and proofe of armes,
He gaue you all the dueties of a man,
Trim'd vp your prafes with a Princely tongue,
Spoke your deferuings like a Chronicle,
Making you euer better then his prayſe,
By ſtill difpraising prafie valued with you,
And which became him like a prince indeed,

He

Ive Ristorie

He made a blushing eitall of himselfe.
And chid his truant youth with such a grace,

And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
As if he mafred there a double spirit

As if he mafred there a double spirit
Of teaching and of learning instantly:

Of teaching and of learning instantly:
There did he paufe; but let me tell the world,
If he outlue the enue of this day,

If he outlue the enue of this day,
England did neuer owe so sweete a hope

England did neuer owe so sweete a hope
So much misconfured in his wantonneſe.

So much misconfured in his wantonneſe,
Hot, Coofen, I thinke thou art enamored

Hot, Coofen, I thinke thou art enamored
On his follies: neuer did I heare
Of any prince so wild a libertie :

But be he as he will, yet once e're night,
I will embrace him with a fouliers arme,

But be he as he will, yet once e're night,
I will embrace him with a fouliers arme,
That he shall shrinke vnder my courtesie.

That he shall shrinke vnder my courtesie.
Arme, arme with ſpeed, and ſellowes, ſouldiers, friendes,

Arme, arme with ſpeed, and ſellowes, ſouldiers, friendes,
Better consider what you hane to do,

Better consider what you hane to do,
Then I that haue not wel the gift of tongue

Then I that haue not wel the gift of tongue
Can lit your blood vp with perfuſation.

Can lit your blood vp with perfuſation.
Then I that haue not wel the gift of tongue
Enter a meſenger.

Can lit your blood vp with perfuſation.
Mef, My Lord, here are letters for you.
Hot, I can not read them now.

O, Gentlemen, the time of life is short:
To ſpend that ſhortneſt basely, were too long,

To ſpend that ſhortneſt basely, were too long,
If life did ride vpon a dials point,

If life did ride vpon a dials point,
Still ending at the annuall of an houre,

Still ending at the annuall of an houre,
And if we hue, we hue to tread on kings,

And if we hue, we hue to tread on kings,
If die, braue death when princes die with vs.

If die, braue death when princes die with vs.
Now for our confiſences, the armes are faire,

Now for our confiſences, the armes are faire,
When the intent of bearing them is full.

When the intent of bearing them is full.
Mef, My Lord, prepare the king comes on apace.
Hot, I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale.

Mef, My Lord, prepare the king comes on apace,
Hot, I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale:
For I professe not talking, onely this,

For I professe not talking, onely this,
Let each man doe his beſt: and here draw I a ſword,
Whole temper I intend to ſtame

Let each man doe his beſt: and here draw I a ſword,
For I professe not talking, onely this,

Whole temper I intend to ſtame
With the beſt blood that I can meet withall,

With the beſt blood that I can meet withall,
In the aduenture of this perilous day.

Now esperance Percy, and fet on,

Now esperance Percy, and fet on,
Sound all the loftie instruments of war,

Sound all the loftie instruments of war,
And that Muficke let vs all embrace,

For

of Henry the fourth.

For heauen to earth, some of vs neuer shall
A ſecond time doe ſuch a courtesie.

Here they embrace, the trumpets found, the king enters with his
power, alarme to the battell, then enter Douglas, and Sir Wal-
ter Blunt.

Blunt. What is thy name, that in battell thus thou croſſed me?
What honour doſt thou feeke vpon my head?

Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas,

And I doe haunt thee in the battell thus,

Because ſome tell me that thou art a king.

Blunt. They tell thee true.

Doug. The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought
Thy likenesſe, for in ſtead of thee, King Harry,

This ſword hath ended him, so shall it thee,

Vnlesſe thou yeeld thee as my prifoner.

Blunt. I was not borne a yeelder, thou proud Scot:
And thou shall find a king that will reuenge

Lord Stafford's death.

They fight, Douglas kils Blunt, then enter Hot ſpur.

Hot. O Douglas, hadſt thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I neuer had triumpht vpon a Scot.

Doug. Als done, als won; here breathleslyes the king,

Hot. Where? Doug. Here.

Hot. This, Douglas? no, I know this face full well,

A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt,

Semblably furnisht like the king himselfe.

Doug. Ah foole, goe with thy loule whither it goes,
A borrowed title haſt thou bought too deare.

Why didſt thou tel me, that thou wert a king?

Hot. The king hath many marching in his coates.

Doug. Now by my ſword, I will kill all his coates :
He murther all his wardrobe, piece by piece,

Vntill I meete the king. Hot: Vp, and away,

Our ſouldiers stand full fairely for the day.

Alarme, Enter Falſt alſſe ſolus.

Fal. Though I could ſcapc ſhot-free at London, I feare the
ſhot here, here's no ſcoring but vp the pate. Soft, who are you?
Sir Walter Blunt, then's honor for you, here's no vanitry. I am as

The Hiftorte

hot as molten lead, & as heavy too: God keepe lead outof me,
I need no more weight then mine owne bowels. I haue led my
rag of Muffins where they are pepperd: there's not three of my
150. left aliue, and they are for the townes end, to beg during
life: but who comes here?

*Enter the Prince.*

*Prin.* What, ftaɪndft thou idle here? lend me thy fword.!

Many a noble man lies ftarke and ftuffe,

Under the hoones of vaunting enemies,

Whole deaths are yet vnreueg'd. I prethee lend me thy fword.
Fal. O Hal, I prethee giue me leane to breathe a while: Turke
Gregorie neuer did fuch deeds in armes, as I haue done this
day, I haue paid Percy, I haue made him fure.

*Prin.* He is indeed, and liuing to kill thee:

I prethee lend me thy fword.

*Fal.* Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be aliue, thou getft not
my fword, but take my pitfol if thou wilt.

*Prin.* Giue it me: what? is it in the cafe?

*Fal.* I Hal, t'is hot, t'is hot, there's that will facke a Citie.

*The Prince drawes it out, and finds it to be a bottſle of Sacke.*

*Prin.* What, is it a time to ieſt and dally now?

*He shrowes the bottſle at him.* *Exit.*

*Fal.* Well, if Percy be aliue, ile pierce him, if he doe come
in my way: so, if hee doe not, if I come in his willingly, let him
make a Carbonado of me. I like not fuch grinning honour as fir
Walter hath: giue me life, which if I can faue, to: if not, ho
nour comes vnlookt for, and there's an end.

*Alarme, excursions, Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaſter, and Earle of Westmerland.*

*King.* I prethee Harry, withdraw thy ſelfe, thou bleedſt too much, Lord John of Lancaſter, go you with him.

*P. John, Not I, my Lord, vnleſſe I did bleed too.*

*Prin.* I beſeech your Maiestie, make vp,

*Left your retirement doe amaze your friends.* (cante)

*King.* I will doe so: my Lord of Westmerland, lead him to his West. Come, my Lord, ile lead you to your tent.

*Prin.* Lead me, my Lord: I doe not need your helpe,
And God forbid a shallow scratch should drue

of Henry the fourth.

The Prince of Wales from fuch a field as this,
Where ſtain'd nobilitie lies troden on,
And rebels armes triumph in maſlacres.

*Ioh. We breathe too long, come, coofen Westmerlad,
Our duetie this way lies: For Gods ſake come.*

*Prin.* By God, thou haſt decei'd me, Lancaſter,
I did not thinke thee Lord of ſuch a ſpirit:
Before, I lou'd thee as a brother Iohn,
But now, I doe reſpect thee as my ſoule.

*King.* I faw him holde Lord Percy at the point,
With luſtier maintenance then I did looke for
Of ſuch an vngrowne warrior.

*Prin.* O, this boy lends metall to vs all. *Exit.*

*Doug.* Another king, they grow like Hydras heads,
I am the Douglas, fatall to all thofe

That weare thofe colours on them. What art thou
That counterfeit the person of a king?

*Kin.* The king himself, who Douglas grieues at heart,
So many of his ſhadowes thou haſt met
And not the very king: I haue two boyes
Seeke Percie and thy ſelfe about the field,
But feeing thou falſt on me ſo ſlukely,
I will affay thee, and defend thy ſelfe.

*Doug.* I feare thou art another counterfeit,
And yet, in faith, thou beareſt thee like a king.
But mine, I am ſure, thou art, who er'e thou be:
And thus I winne thee:

*They fight, the King being in danger, Enter Prince of Wales.*

*Prin.* Hold vp thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like Neuer to hold it vp againe, the ſpirits Of valiant Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my armes It is the Prince of Wales, that threatens thee, Who neuer promiseth, but he meanes to pay.

*They fight, Douglas fluths.*

*Cheerely, my Lord, how fares your grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawſey hath for ſuccour ſent,
And ſo hath Clifton: ile to Clifton ſtraight.*

*King.* Stay, and breathe a while:

*Thou*

The Historie

Thou haſt redeemed thy loft opinion,
And ſhew'd thou makeſt ſome tender of my life,
In this faire ſeſcue thou haſt brought to me.
Prin. O God, they did me too much iniurie,
That euer ſaid, I harkened for your death,
If it were ſo, I might haue let alone
The infulting hand of Douglas ouer you,
Which would haue beene as ſpeedy in your end,
As all the poſſonous poſtions in the world,
And ſau'd the trecherous labour of your ſonne.
King. Make vp to Clifton, ile to S. Nicholas Gawſey, Exit.
Enter Hot ſpur.

Hot. If I miſtake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

Prin. Thou ſpeakſt, as if I would deny my name.

Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

Prin. Why, then I see a very valiant rebell of the name;
I am the Prince of Wales, and thinke not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:

Two ſtars keepe not their motion in one ſphere,
Nor can one England brooke a double raigne
Of Harry Percy, and the Prince of Wales.

Hot. Now, ſhall it, Harry? for the houre is come,
To end the one of vs, and would to God

Thy name in armes, were now as great as mine.

Prin. Ile make it greater, e're I part from thee,
And all the budding honours on thy creft,
Ile crop to make a garland for my head.

Hot. I can no longer brooke thy vanities.

They fight: Enter Falſtalſſe.

Fal. Well ſaid, Hal, to it, Hal. Nay, you ſhall find no boyes
play here, I can tell you.

Enter Douglas, he fighteth with Falſtalſſe, he fals
downe as if he were dead, the Prince
killeth Percy.

Hot. Oh Harry, thou haſt rob'd me of my youth,
I better brooke the loſſe of brittle life,

Then thate proud titles thou haſt won of me,

of Henry the fourth.

They wound my thoughts, worſe then thy ſword my ſleſh:

But thought's the ſlaue of life, and life times foole,
And time that takes ſuray of all the world,

Muſt haue a ſtop. O, I could prophecie,
But that the earth and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue: no Percy, thou art duſt
And food for..

Prin. For wonnes, brane Percy. Fare thee well, great heart,
I'll weau'd ambition, howe much art thou ſhrunke :

When that this body did containe a ſpirit,
A kingdome for it was too ſmall a round,

But now two paces of the vileſt earth
Is roome enough: this earth that beares the dead,

Bears not alive ſo ſtoute a gentleman,
If thou wert ſenſible of eurteſie,

I should not make so great a ſhew of zeale:

But let my ſavours hide thy mangled face,
And euen in thy behalſe ile thanke my ſelſe,
For doing theſe faire rites of tenderneſſe.

Adiew, and take thy praeſe with thee to heauen,

Thy ignominy ſleepe with thee in the graue,
But not remembred in thy Epiſaph.

He ſpieth Falſtalſſe on the ground.
What old acquaintance! could not all this ſleſh

Keepe in a little life? poore Iacke, farewell,
I could haue better ſpar'd a better man,

O, I ſhould haue a heauie miſſe of thee,
If I were much in loue with vanitic:

Death hath not ſtrooke ſo faire a Deere to day,
Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.

Inbowe'd will I ſee thee by and by,
Till then, in blood by noble Percie lie.

Falſtalſſerifeth vp.

Exit.

Fal. Inbowe'd: if thou inbowel me to day, ile give you leaue
to powder me and eate me too to morrowe. Zblood, twas time
to counterſet, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me ſcot and
lottoo. Counterſet? I lie, I am no counterſet: to die is to bee a
counterſet, for he is but the counterſet of a man, who hath not

The Historie

the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying when a man thereby liueth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion, in the which better part I haue faued my life. Zounds I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how if he should cōterfet too and rife? by my faith, I am afraid hee would proue the better counterfeit: therefore ile make him sure, yea and ile sware I kild him. Why may not he rife as well as I? nothing confutes me but eyes, and no body fees me: therefore firra, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

He takes vp Hotspur on his backe. Enter Prince and John of Lancaſter.

Prin. Come, brother Iohn, ful brauely halt thou flesh't.
Thy mayden word.

John. But soft, whom haue we heare?

Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?

Prin. I did, I saw him dead,
Breathles and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alue?
Or is it fantafic that playes vpon our eieſt?
I prethee speake, we will not truſt our ies
Without our eares, thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal. No, that's certaine, I am not a double man: but if I bee not lacke Falltallaffe, then am I a lacke: there is Percie, if your father will doe me any honour, so : if not, let him kill the next Percie himſelfe : I looke to be either Earle or Duke, I can aſſure you.

Prin. Why, Percie I kild my ſelc, and ſaw thee dead.

Fal. Didt thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is giuen tolying. I graunt you, I was downe, and out of breath, and so was he, but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long houre by Shrewesburie clocke, if I may be beleeu'd to: if not, let them that should rewarde valour, beare the finne vpon their owne heads. Ile take it vpon my death. I gaue him this wound in the thigh: if the man were alue, and would denie it, Zounds I would make him eate a piece of my ſword.

John. This is the ſtrangeſt tale, that euer I heard.

Prin. This is the ſtrangeſt fellow, brother Iohn,
Come bring your luggage nobly on your backe.

of Henry the fourth.

For my part, if a lie may doe thee grace,
He gild it with the happiest terms I haue.

A retraite is founded.

Prin. The Trumpet founds retrait, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let vs to the highest of the fields,
To fee what friends are liuing, who are dead.

Exeunt.

Fal. Ile follow, as they ſay, for reward, Hee that rewardes me, God reward him. If I doe growe great, ile growe leſſe, for ile purge and leaue Sacke, and hue cleanly as a noble man should do.

Exit.

The Trumpets found, Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, with Worcester, and Vernon, prisoners.

King. Thus euer did rebellion find rebuke.
Ill ſpirited Worcester, did not we ſend grace,
Pardon, and terms of loue to all of you?
And would it thou turne our offers contrary?
Mifufe the tenor of thy kinſmans truſt?
Three knights vpon our partie ſaine to day,
A noble Earle and many a creature elſe,
Had bene alue this houre,
It like a Chriſtian thou hadſt truely borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

Wor. What I haue done, my safety vrg'd meet to:
And I imbrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be auoyd'd it falls on me.

King. Beare Worcester to the death, and Vernon too?
Other offenders we will paſe vpon.
How goes the field?

Prin. The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he ſaw
The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
The noble Percie ſaine, and all his men
Vpon the foote of ſcare, fled with the reſt :
And falling from a hill, he was so brus'd,
That the purſuers tooke him. At my tent
The Douglas is : and I beſeech your grace
I may diſpofe of him.

The Historie, &c.

King. With all my heart.

Prim. Then, brother Iohn of Lancafter,

To you this honourable bounty shall belong,

Goe to the Douglas, and deliuer him

Vp to his pleasure, ransome leffe and free:

His valours hew'n vpon our Crefts to day,

Hauë taught vs how to cherifh such high deeds,

Euen in the bosome of our aduerfaries.

Iohn, I thanke your grace for this high curtesie,

Which I shall giue away immediatly.

King. Then this remaines, that we deuide our power,

You fonne Iohn, and my coofen Westmerland

Towards Yorke shall bend, you with your deereft speed

To meet Northumberland and the Prelate Scroope,

Who, as we heare, are bufily in armes:

My ſelfe, and you, forne Harry, will towards Wales,

To fight with Glendower and the Earle of March.

Rebellion in this land ſhall loſe his fway,

Meeting the checke of ſuch another day.

And, ſince this buſineſſe ſo faire is done,

Let vs not leaue, till all our owne be won.

Exequens.

FINIS.