The second part of Henry the fourth,
continuing to his death, and coronation of Henry the
fifth.

Enter Rumour painted full of Tongues.

Pen your cares for which of you wi' a stop
The vent of hearing, when lowd Rumor speakst
I from the Orient to the drooping West,
(Making the wind my poste-horse) still vnfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth,
Vpon my tongues continuall flanders ride,
The which in euery language I pronounce,
Stuffing the cares of men with false reports,
I speake of peace while couert enmity,
Vnder the smile of safety, woundes the world:
And who but Rumor, who but only I,
Make fearefull mufters, and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the bigge veare, fwoline with some other griefe,
Is thought with child by the ferne tyrant Warre?
And no such matter Rumour is a pipe,
Blowne by furminizes, Icaloufies coniectures,
And of loe eafie, and loe plaine a stop,
That the blunt monster, with vncounted heads,
The still discordant wau'ring multitude,
Can play vpon it. But what need I thus
(My wel knowne body) to anothomize
Among my household? why is Rumor here?

A 2

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The second part of

I runne before King Harries victorie,
Who in a bloudy field by Shrewsbury,
Hath beaten downe yong Hot-spurre and his troopes,
Quenching the flaine of bold rebellion,
Euen with the rebels bloud. But what meane I
To speake so true at first: my office is
To noyfe abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hot-spurs sword,
And that the King before the Douglas rage,
Stoopt his annointed head as low as death.
This haue I rumour'd through the peafant townes,
Betweene that royall field of Shrewsbury,
And this worme-eaten hole of ragged stone,
When Hot-spurs father old Northumberland
Lies crafty ficke,the poftes come tyring on,
And not a man of them brings other newes,
Than they haue learnt of me,from Rumors tongues,
They bring smooth comforts falle, worfe then true wrongs.
exit Rumours.

*Enter the Lord Bardolfe at one door.*

Bard. Who keepes the gate here ho? where is the Earle?

Porter. What shall I say you are?

Bard. Tell thou the Earle,

That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere.
Porter. His Lordship is walkt forth into the orchard,
Please it your honor knocke but at the gate,
And he himselfe will answer. *Enter the Earle Northumberland.*

Bard. Here comes the Earle.

Earle. What newes Lord Bardolfe? every minute now
Should be the father of some Stratagem,
The times are wild, contention like a horfe,
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose,
And beares downe all before him.

Bard. Noble Earle,

I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury.

Earle. Good, and God will.

Bard.

Henry the fourth.

Bard. As good as heart can wifh:
The King is almost wounded to the death,
And in the fortune of my Lord your Sonne,
Prince Harry flaine outright, and both the Blunts
Kild by the hand of Dowglas, yong prince John,
And Westmerland and Stafford fled the field,
And Harry Monmouths brawne, the bulke fir John,
Is prisoner to your Sonne: O such a day!
So fought he followed and so fairely wonne,
Came not till now to dignifie the times
Since Cæsars fortunes.

Earle. How is this deriu'd?
Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury?

Bar. I speake with one, my lord, that came from thence, *enter Traversi.*
A gentleman well bred, and of good name,
That freely rendred me these newes for true.

Earle. Here comes my feruant Traversi who I sent
On tuesday laft to listen after newes.

Bar. My lord, I ouer-rode him on the way,
And he is furnisht with no certainties,
More then he haply may retale from me.

Earle. Now Traversi, what good tidings comes with you?
Traversi. My lord, fir John Vmingreile turnd me backe.
With ioyfull tidings, and being better horst,
Outrode me, after him came spurring hard,
A gentleman almost forespent with speede,
That slopt by me to breathe his bloudied horfe,
He askt the way to Chefter, and of him
I did demand what newes from Shrewsbury,
He told me that rebellion had bad lucke,
And that yong Harrie Percies spur was cold:
With that he gaue his able horfe the head,
And bending forward, strooke his armed heeles,
Against the panung fides of his poore iade,
Vp to the rowell head, and starting so,
He seem'd in running to deuoure the way,

A 3

Stay.

The second part of

Staying no longer question.
Sard he, yong Harry Percies spur was cold,
Of Hot-spurre, Cold-spurre, that rebelkome
Had met ill lucke?

Bard. My lord, he tell you what,
If my yong Lord your sonne, haue not the day,
Vpon mine honor for a silken point,
He giue my Barony, neuer talke of it.

Earle Why should that gentleman that rode by Trauers,
Giuе then such inſtances of loffe?

Bard. Who he?

He was some hilding fellow that had Stolne
The horſe he rode on, and vpon my life

Spoke at a venter. Looke, here comes more news. enter MOUR.

Earle Yea this mans brow, like to a title leafe,
Foretells the nature of a tragicke volume,
So lookes the ſtrond, whereon the imperious ſloud,
Hath left a witneſt vſurpation.

Say Mourton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?

Mour. I ranne from Shrewsbury my noble lord,
Where hatefull death put on his vglieſt maske,
To fright our partie.

Earle How doth my ſonne and brother?
Thou trembleſt, and the whitenes in thy cheeke,
Is apter then thy tongue to tell thy arrand,
Euen ſuch a man, ſo faint, ſo ſpirritleſſe,
So dull, ſo dead in looke, ſo woe begon,
Drew Priams curtaine in the dead of night,
And would haue told him halfe his Troy was burnt
But Priam found the fier, ere he, his tongue,
And I, my Percies death, ere thou report it.

This thou wouldſt ſay, Your ſon did thus and thus,
Your brother thus: ſo fought the noble Dowglas,
Stopping my greedy eare with their bold deedes,
But in the end, to ſtop my eare indeed,
Thou haſt a ſight to blow away this praisè,
Eading with brother, ſonne, and all are dead.

Mour.

Henry the fourth.

Mour. Douglas is living, and your brother yet,
But for my Lord your ſonne:

Earle Why he is dead?
See what a ready tongue Suſpition hath!
He that but feares the thing hee would not know,
Hath by inſtinet, knowledge from others eies,
That what he feard is chanced: yet ſpeake Mourton,
Tell thou an Earle, his diuination lies,
And I will take it as a ſweete diſgrace,
And make thee rich for doing me ſuch wrong.

Mour. You are too great to be by me gainſaid,
Your ſpirite is too true, your ſeares too certaine.

Earle Yet for all this, ſay not that Percie's dead,
I fee a ſtrange confession in thine eie,
Thou ſhakſt thy head, and holdt it ſeare, or ſinne,
To ſpeake a truth: if he be ſlaine,
The tongue ſoffends not that reports his death,
And he doth ſinne that doth belie the dead,
Not he which ſaies the dead is not alive,
Yet the firſt bringer of vnwelcome newes
Hath but a loofing office, and his tongue
Sounds euer after as a ſullen bell,
Remembred tolling a departing friend.

Bard. I cannot thinke, my Lord, your ſonne is dead.
Mour. I am ſory I should force you to beleeue,
That which I would to God I had not ſeene,
But theſe mine eies ſaw him in bloudy ſtate,
Rendring faint quittance, wearied, and out-breathd,
To Harry Monmouth, whose ſwift wrath beat downe
The neuer daunted Percy to the earth,
From whence with life he neuer more ſprung vp.
In ſew his death, whose ſpirite lent a fire,
Euen to the dulleſt peafant in his campe,
Being bruted once, tooke fire and heate away,
From the beſt temperd courage in his troops,
For from his mettal was his party ſteeled,

Which

## The second part of

Which once in him abated, at the rest
Turnd on them, flues, like dull and heavy lead.
And as the thing thats heavy in it selfe,
Vpon enforcement flies with greatest speed:
So did our men, heavy in Hot Spurz loffe,
Lend to this weight such lightneſſe with their feare,
That arrows fled not ſwifter toward their ayme,
Than did our ſouldiers aiming at their ſafetie,
Fly from the field: then was that noble Worcester,
So ſoone tane prisoner, and that furious Scot,
The bloudy Douglas whose well labouring ſword,
Had three times ſlaine th' appearance of the King,
Gan vale his ſtomacke, and did grace the ſhame
Of those that turnd their backes, and in his flight,
Stumbling in ſeare, was tooke: the ſunne of all
Is, that the King hath wonne, and hath ſent out,
A ſpeedy power to encounter you my lord,
Under the conduct of yong Lancaſter,
And Westmerland: this is the news at ful.

Earle For this I ſhal haue time enough to mourne,
In poſon there is phſicke, and these newes,
Hauing beene wel, that would haue made me ſicke:
Being ſicke, haue (in ſome meaſure) made me wel:
And as the wretch whose ſeuer-weakned ioynts,
Like ſtrengthleſſe hinges buckle vnder life,
Impatient of his ſit, breakes like a fire
Out of his keepers armes; euen so my limbes,
Weakened with griefe being now enragde with griefe,
Are three them: ſelues: hence therefore thou nice crutch,
A ſcaly gauntlet now with ioynts of ſteele
Muſt gloue this hand, and hence thou ſickly coife,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which princes, ſleſht with conquelt, ayme to hit:
Now bind my browes with yron, and approach
The ragged ſtore that Timme and Spight dare bring,
To frowne vpon th' enragde Northumberland,

Let

## Henry the fourth.

Let heauen kiffe earth, now let not Natures hand
Keepe the wild floud confind, let Order die,
And let this world no longer be a ſtage,
To feed contention in a lingring act:
But let one ſpirite of the firſt borne Cain
Raigne in all boſomes, that ech heart being ſet
On bloudy courſes, the rude ſeeane may end,
And darkneſſe be the burier of the dead.

Vmsr. This strained paſſion doth you wrong my lord.

Bard. Sweet earle, duſorce not wifedom from your honou'r,

Mour. The liues of all your louing complices,
Leaue on your health, the which if you giue ore,
To ſtormy paſſion muſt perſorce decay.

Bard. We all that are engaged to this loffe,
Knew that we ventured on ſuch dangerous ſeas,
That if we wrought out life, twas ten to one,
And yet we venturd for the gaine propoſe,
Choakt the reſpect of likely perill fear'd,
And ſince we are oſeſt, venture againe:
Come, we will al put ſorth body and goods.

Mour. Tis more then time, and my moſt noble lord,
I heare for certaine, and dare ſpeake the truth.

North. I knew of this before, but to ſpeake truth,
This preſent griefe had wipte it from my mind,
Go in with me and counſell euery man,
The apteſt way for safety and reuenge,
Get poſtes and letters, and make friends with ſpeed,
Neuer so few, and neuer yet more need.

excunt.

Enter Sir John alone, with his page bearing his sword and buckler.

John. Sir, you giant, what faies the doctor to my water?

Page. He laid ſir, the water it self was a good healthy water,
but for the party that owed it, he might haue moe diſeafeſ than
he knew for.

B

John

The second part of

John Men of al forts take a pride to gird at me : the braine of this foolish compounded clay-man is not able to inuent any thing that intends to laughter, more then I inuent, or is inuetyed on me, I am not only witty in my selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow that hath ouerhelmd al her litter but one, if the prince put thee into my feruice for any other reason then to fett me off, why then I haue no judgement thou horeson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heels I was neuer manned with an agot till now, but I wil in-set you, neither in golde nor filuer, but in vile apparell, and send you backe againe to your mafter for a viewell, the iuuenall the prince your mafter, whose chin is not yet fledge, I will sooner haue a beard grow in the palme of my hand, then he shall get one off his cheek, & yet he will not flicke to say his face is a face royal, God may finiseth it when he will, tis not a haire amifle yet, he may keepe it still at a face royall, for a baib er shall neuer earne sixpence out of it, and yet heele be crowing as if he had writte man euer since his father was a batcheler, he may keepe his owne grace, but hees almost out of mine I can affure him: what faid master Dommelton about the fattin for my short cloake and my floppes?

Boy He faide fir, you should procure him better affurance then Bardolfe, he would not take his band and yours, he liked not the securitie.

fir Iohn Let him be damn'd like the glutton, pray God his tongue be hotter, a horeson A chitophella rafcall: yea for sooth knaue, to beare a gentle man in hand, and then stand vpon securitie, the horzon smoothy-pates doe now weare nothing but his shooes and bunches of keyes at their girdles, and if a man is through with them in honest taking vp, then they must stand vppon securitie, I had as liue they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with securitie, I lookt a should haue sent me two and twenty yards of fattin, (as I am a true knight,) and he sends me securitie: well he may sleepe in securitie, for he hath the horne of abundance, and the lightneſle of his wife shines

Henry the fourth.

Shines through it: wheres Bardolf, & yet can not he fee though he haue his owne lanthorne to light him.

Boy Hees gone in Smithfield to buy your worſhip a horſe.

fir Iohn I bought him in Paules, and heele buy me a horſe in Smithfield, and I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were man'd, horſde, and wu d.

Enter Lord chieſe Inſtice.

Boy Sir, here comes the noble man that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolfe.

fir Iohn Wait close, I will not fee him.

Inſtice What hee that goes there?

feru. Falſtaffe, and I pleafe your lordship.

Inſt. He that was in question for the rob ry?

feru. He my Lord, but he hath ſince done good ſeruice at Shrewsbury, & (as I heare,) is now going with some charge to the lord Iohn of Lancaſter.

Inſt. Whatto Yorke? call him backe againe.

feru. Sir Iohn Falſtaffe.

Iohn Boy, tell him I am deafe.

Boy You muſt ſpeake lowder, my mafter is deafe.

Inſt. I am fure he is to the hearing of any thing good, goe plucke him by the elbow, I muſt ſpeake with him.

feru. Sir Iohn?

Falſt. What? a yong knaue and begging? is there not wars? is there not employment? doth not the King lacke ſubieſts? do not the rebels need ſouldiers, though it be a ſhame to be on any ſide but one, it is worſe ſhame to beg then to be on the worſt ſide, were it worſe then the name of Rebellions can tell how to make it.

feru. You miſtake me fir.

Iohn Why fir, did I ſay you were an honest man, fetting my knighthood and my ſouldierſhip aſide, I had lied in my throat if I had faid so.

feru. I pray you fir then ſet your knighthood, and your ſoldierſhip aſide, and giue me leaue to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you ſay I am any other then an honest man.

B 2

Iohn.

The second part of

John I giue thee leaue to tell me, so I lay aside that which growes to me, if thou getft any leaue of me, hang me, if thou takft leaue, thou wert better be hangd, you hunt couter, hence, auaint.

feru. Sir, my Lord would fpeake with you.

Inſt. Sir John Falltaffe, a word with you.

Falt. My good Lord, God giue your lordſhip good time of day, I am glad to fee your lordſhip abroade, I heard ſay your lordſhip was ſicke, I hope your lordſhip goes abroade by aduife, your lordſhip, though not clean paſt your youth, haue yet ſome ſmack of an aguein you, ſome reſh of the faltnes of time in you, and I moſt humbly beſeech your lordſhip to haue a reuerend care of your health.

Inſice. Sir John, I ſent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury.

ſir John Andt pleafe your lorfhip, I heare his maiefly is returnd with ſome diſcomfort from Wales.

Inſt. I talke not of his maiefly, you would not come when I ſent for you.

Falt. And I heare moreouer, his highnes is falne into this fame horſon apoplexi.

Inſt. Well, God mend him, I pray you let me ſpeake with you.

Falt. This appoplexi as I take it, is a kind of lethergie, and't pleafe your lordſhip, a kind of ſleeping in the bloud, a horſon tingling.

Inſt. What tell you me of it, be it as it is.

Falt. It hath it originall from much griefe, from ſtudy, and perturbation of the braine, I haue read the cause of his effects in Galen, it is a kind of deafenes.

Inſt. I think you are falne into the diſeafe, for you heare not what I ſay to you.

Old. Very well my lord, very well, rather and't pleafe you it is the diſeafe of not liffning, the maladie of not marking that I am troubled withall.

Inſt. To puniſh you by the heeles, would amend the attention

of your eares

Henry the fourth.

tion of your eares, and I care not if I doe become your phisitian.

Falt. I am as poore as Iob my lord, but not so pacient, your Lordſhip may minifter the poſtion of imprisonment to me, in reſpect of pouertie, but how I should be your pacient to follow your preſcriptions, the wife may make ſom dramme of a ſeruple or indeede a ſeruple it ſelfe.

Inſt. I ſent for you when there were matters againſt you for your life to come ſpeake with me.

Falt. As I was then aduifde by my learned counſail in the laws of this land, ſeruice, I did not come.

Inſt. Wel, the truth is fir Iohn, you lie in great infamy.

Falt. He that buckles himſelfe in my belt cannot lie in leſſe.

Inſt. Your meanes are very ſlender, and your waſte is great.

Falt. I would it were otherwife, I would my meanes were greater and my waſte ſlender.

Inſt. You haue miſled the youthfull prince.

Falt. The yong prince hath miſled me, I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dogge.

Inſt. Wel, I am loth to gail a new heald wound, your daies ſeruice at Shrewsbury, I haath a little gilded ouer your nights exploit on Gadshill, you may thanke this quiet time, for your quiet orepoſing that action.

Falt. My lord.

Inſt. But ſince all is well, keepe it ſo, wake not a ſleeping wolfe.

Falt. To wake a wolfe, is as bad as smell a fox.

Inſt. What you are as a candle, the better part, burnt out.

Falt. A waſſel candle my lord, al tallow, if I did ſay of wax, my growth would approue the truth.

Inſt. There is not a white haire in your ſace, but should haue his effect of grauity.

Falt. His effect of grauy, grauie, grauie.

Inſt. You follow the yong prince vp and downe, like his ill angell.

B 3

Falt.

The second part of

Faulk. Not so my lord, your ill angell is light, but I hope he
that looks vpon me will take me without weighing, and yet
in some respects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell, vertue is of
so little regard in these costar-mongers times, that true valour
is turnd Erod, Pregnancie is made a Tapfter, & his quick wit
wafted in giuing reckonings, all the other giftes appertinent
to man, as the malice of his age shapes the one not worth a
goosbery, you that are old confider not the capacities of vs that
are yong, you doe meaure the heate of our liuers with the bit-
ternieſſe of your galles, and we that are in the vaward of our
youth, I muſt confefle are wagges too.

Lo. Do you let downe your name in the ſcroule of youth,
that are written downe, old with all the characters of age haue
you not a moist eie, a dry hand, a yellow cheeke, a white beard,
a decreasing leg, an increasing belly is not your voice broken,
your wind short, your chinne double, your wit ſingle, and e-
ueru part about you blaſted with antiquitie, and will you yet
call your ſelfe yong? ſie, ſie, ſie, fir Iohn.

John My Lorde, I was borne about three of the clocke in
the afternoone, with a white head, and something around bel-
lie, for my voyce, I haue loft it with hallowing, and ſinging of
Anthems: to approoue my youth further, I will not: the truth
is, I am onely olde in iudgement and vnderstanding: and hee
that wil caper with me for a thouſand markes, let him lend me
the money, and haue at him for the boxe of the yeere that the
Prince gaue you, he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke
it like a ſensible Lord: I haue checkt him for it, and the yong
lion repents, many not in aſhes and ſackeloth, but in new ſilke,
and olde ſacke.

Lord Well, God ſend the prince a better companion.

John God ſend the companion a better prince, I cannot
ridde my hands of him.

Lord Well, the King hath ſeuerd you: I heare you are go-
ing with lord John of Lancaſter, againſt the Archibishop and
the Earle of Northumberland.

John Yea, I thanke your pretty ſweet witte for it: but looke
you

Henry the fourth.

you pray, all you that kiffe my lady Peace at home, that our
armies ioyne not in a hote day, for, by the Lord, I take but two
ſhirts out with me, and I meane not to ſweate extraordinarily:
if it be a hot day, & I brandiſh any thing but a bottle. I would
I might neuer ſpit white again: there is not a dangerous action
can peepe out his head, but I am thrust vpon it. Wel, I cannot
lait euer, but it was alway yet the tricke of our English nation,
if they haue a good thing, to make it too common. If yee will
needs ſay I am an olde man you should giue me reſt: I would
to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is, I
were better to be eaten to death with a ruſt, than to be ſoured
to nothing with perpetuall motion.

Lord Well, be honest, be honest, and God bleſſe your ex-
pedition.

John Will your lordship lend me a thouſand pound to fur-
niſh me forth?

Lord Not a penny, not a penny, you are too impatient to
beare crosſes: fare you well: commend mee to my cooliue
Westmerland.

John If I do, ſellip me with a three man beetle: A man can
no more ſeparate age and couetouſneſſe, than a can part yong
limbs and lechery, but the gowt galles the one, and the pox
pinches the other, and ſo both the degrees preuent my curſes,

Boy Sir.

(boy)

John What money is in my purſe?

Boy Seuen groates and two pence.

John I can get no remedy againſt this consumption of the
purſe, borrowing onely lingers and lingers it out, but the dif-
eafe is incurable: Go beare this letter to my lord of Lancaſter,
this to the Prince, this to the Earle of Westmerland, and this to
olde miſtris Vrfula, whome I haue weekly ſworne to marry
ſince I perceiud the firſt white haire of my chin: about it, you
know where to finde me: a pox of this gowt, or a gowt of this
pox, for the one or the other playes the rogue with my great
toe. Tis no matter if I doe hault, I haue the warres for my
color, and my pension ſhal seeme the more reasonable: a good
wit

wit

The second part of

wit will make vse of any thing; I will turne diseases to commo-
dite.

Enter the Archbishop, Thomas Mowbray (Earle Marshall) the
Lord Hastings, Fauconbridge, and Bardolfe.

Bishop Thus haue you heard our caufe, and knowne our
And my most noble friends, I pray you al (meanes,
Speake plainely your opinions of our hopes,
And firſt Lord Marshall, what ſay you to it?

Marſh. I well allow the occasion of our armes,
But gladly would be better ſatisfied,
How in our meanes we ſhould aduance our ſelues,
To looke with forehead, bold, and big enough,
Vpon the power and puſſance of the King.

Hast. Our present muſters grow vpon the file,
To ſiue and twenty thousand men of choſe,
And our ſupplies ſiue largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose boſome burnes
With an incensed fire of iniuries.

Bard. The question then Lord Hastings standeth thus,
Whether our present ſiue and twentie thousand,
May hold vp head without Northumberland.

Hast. With him we may.

Bard. Yea, Mary, there's the point,
But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My iudgement is we should not ſtep too far.

Bisb. Tis very true, Lord Bardolfe, for indeede
It was yong Hot-spurs caufe at Shrewsbury.

Bard. It was my Lord, who lined himſelfe with hope,
Eating the ayre, and promife of ſupplie,
Flattring himſelfe in proiect of a power,
Much ſmaller then the ſinſleft of his thoughts,

And ſo with great imagination,
Proper to mad-men, led his powers to death,
And winking, leapt into deſtruction.

Hast. But by your leaue it neuer yet did hurt,

To

Henry the fourth.

To lay downe likelihoods and ſormes of hope.

Bard. We fortifie in paper, and in figures,
Vſing the names of men in ſeed of men,
Like on that drawes the model of an house,
Beyond his power to build it, who (halſe thorough)
Gives ore, and leaues his part-created coſt,
A naked ſubieſt to the weeping clowdes,
And waſte for churlſt hinters tyrannie.

Hast. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of faire birth)
Should be ſiue borne, and that we now poſſeſt
The vnmoſt man of expectation,
I thinke we are ſo, body ſtrong enough,
Even as we are to equal with the King.

Bard. What is the King but ſiue and twenty thousand?
Hast. To vs no more, may not ſo much, Lord Bardolfe,
For his diuitions, as the times do brawle,
And in three heads, one power against the French,
And one against Glendower, perſorme a third
Muſt take vp vs. so is the vnſirme King
In three diuined, and his coffers ſound
With hollow pouertie and emptineſſe.

Bisb. That he should draw his ſeuerall ſtrengths togither,
And come against vs in full puſſance,
Need not to be dreaded.

Hast. If he should do so, French and Welch he leaues his
back vnarm'd, they baying him at the heeles neuer ſcare that
Bar. Who is it like should leade his forces hither?
Hast. The Duke of Lancaſter and Weſtmerland:
Against the Welſh, himſelf and Harry Monmouth:
But who is ſubſtituted against the French
I haue no certaine notice.

Bisb. Shall we go draw our numbers, and fet on?

Hast. We are Times ſubieſts, and Time bids be gone. ex.

Enter Hoſſeſſe of the Tauerne, and an Officer or two.

C

Hoſſeſſe.

The second part of

Hoffeſſe Maſter Phang, haue you entred the action?

Phang It is entred.

Hoff. Wheres your yeoman? is it a lusty yeoman? wil a stand too't?

Phang Sirra, wheres Snare?

Hoff. O Lord I, good maſter Snare.

Snare Here, here.

Phang. Snare, we muſt areſt fir Iohn Fallſtaffe.

Hoff. Yea good maſter Snare, I haue entred him and all,

Snare It may chaunce coſt ſome of vs our liues, for he will ſtabbe.

Hoff. Alas the day, take heed of him, he ſtabd me in mine owne houſe, moſt beaſtly in good faith, a cares not what miſchefe he does, if his weapon be out, he will ſoyne like any diuell, he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

Phang If I can close with him, I care not for his thrufft.

Hoff. No nor I neither, I le be at your elbow.

Phang And I but ſiſt him once, and a come but within my view.

Hoff. I am vndone by his going, I warrant you, hees an inſinitiue thing vppon my ſcore, good maſter Phang holde him ſure, good maſter Snare let him not ſcape, a comes continually to Pie corner (fauing your manhoods) to buy a faddle, and he is indited to dinner to the Lubbers head in Lumbert ſtreete to maſter Smooths the silk man, I pray you ſince my exion is entred, and my cafe ſo openly knowne to the worlde, let him be brought in to his anſwer, a hundred marke is a long one, for a poore lone woman to beare, and I haue borne, and borne, and borne, and haue bin ſubd off, and ſubd off, and ſubd off from this day to that day, that it is a ſhame to be thought on, there is no honeſty in ſuch dealing, vnleſſe a woman ſhould be made an aſſe, and a beaſt, to beare every knaues wrong : yonder he comes, and that arrant malmsſie-noſe knaue Bardolſe with him, do your offices, do your offices maſter Phāg, & maſter Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices.

Enter fir Iohn, and Bardolſe, and the boy.

Falſt.

Henry the fourth.

Falſt. How now, whoſe mare's dead? what's the matter?

Phang I arreſt you at the fute of miſtris.

Falſt. A way varlets, draw Bardolſe, cut me off the villaines head, throw the queane in the channell.

Hoff. Throw me in the channell? I le throw thee in the chan-
nel, wilt thou, wilt thou, thou baſtardly rogue, murder murder,
a thou honiſuckle villaine, wilt thou kill Gods officers and the
Kings? a thou honiſeed rogue, thou art a honiſeed, a man quel-
ler, and a woman queller.

Falſt. Keepe them off Bardolſe.

Offic. A reskew, a reskew.

Hoff. Good people bring a reskew or two, thou wot, wet thou, thou wot, wot ta, do do thou rogue, do thou hempfeed.

Boy Away you ſcullian, you rampallian, you ſuſtularian, ile tickle your catastrophe.

Enter Lord chiefes iſtice and his men.

Lord What is the matter? keepe the peace here, ho.

Hoffeſſe Good my lord be good to me, I beſeech you ſtand to me.

Lord How now fir Iohn, what are you brawling here?

Doth this become your place, your time, and buſineſſe?

You ſhould haue bin well on your way to Yorke:

Stand from him fellow, wherefore hang ſt thou vpon him.

Hoff. O my moſt worſhipſul Lord, and t plesa your grace I am a poore widow of Eaſtcheape, and he is arreſted at my fute.

Lord For what ſumme?

Hoff. It is more then for ſome my Lord, it is for all I haue, he hath eaten me out of houſe and home, he hath put all my ſubſtance into that fat belly of his, but I wil haue ſome of it out a-gaine, or I wil ride thee a nights like the mare.

Falſt. I think I am as like to ride the mare if I haue any van-
tage of ground to get vp.

Lord How comes this fir Iohn ? what man of good temper would endure this tempeſt of exclamation, are you not aſha-med to inforce a poore widow, to ſo rough a course to come

by

C 2

The second part of

by her owne.

Falso. What is the grosse funne that I owe thee?

Hast. Mary, if thou wert an honest man thy selfe and the
mony too: thou didst fweare to me vpon a parcell guilt goblet,
fitting in my dolphin chamber, at the round table by a tea cole
fire, vp on wednesday in Wheelon weeke, when the prince
brokethy head, for liking his father to a singing man of Win-
for, thou didst fweare to me the, as I was wathing thy wound,
to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife, canst thou deny
it, did not goodwife Keech the butchers wife come in then and
cal me goffip Quickly, comming in to borow a mefle of vine-
gar, telling vs she had a good dith of prawnes, whereby thou
didst desire to eate some, whereby I told thee they were ill
for a greene wound, and didst thou not, when she was gone
down stayers, defire me, to be no more so familiarity, with such
poore people, saying that ere long they should cal me madam,
and didst thou not kiffe me, and bid me fetch thee thirtre il-
lings, I put thee now to thy hooke oath, denie it if thou canst.

Falso. My lord this is a poore made foule, and she fates vp
and downe the towne, that her eldestfonne is like you, she
hath bin in good cafe, and the trueth is pouerty hath distracted
her, but for these foolish officers, I befeech you I may haue re-
dresse against them.

Lo. Sir John fir John, I am wel acquainted with your maner of wrenching the true caufe, the false way : it is not a confident brow, nor the truest of words that come with such more then impud. nt fawcines from you can thrust me from a leuel consideration: you haue as it appeares to me praeufide vpon the eafe yeelding spight of this woman, and made her ferue your vles both in purfe and in perſon.

Host. Yea in truth my Lord.

Lo. Pray thee peace, pay her the debt you owe her, and vn-
pay the villany you haue done with her, the one you may doe
with fleing mony, and the other with currant repentance.

Falso. My Lord I will not vndergoe this fnepe without re-
ply, you cal honorable boldnes impudent fawcineſſe, if a man
wil

wil

Henry the fourth.

will make curſie and ſay nothing, he is vertuous, no my Lord
my humble duty remembred. I will not bee your ſuter, I hay
to you I do defire deluérance from theſe officers, being vpon
haſty employment in the Kings affayres.

Lord. You ſpeak as hauing power to do wrong, but an-
fuer in the effect of your reputauon, and ſatſie the poore wo-
man.

Falso. Come hither hofſteſſe.

Lord. Now maſter Gower, what newes, enter a meſſenger.

Gower. The King my Lord, and Harry prince of Wales,
Are neare at hand, the reſt the paper tells.

Falso. As I am a gentleman!

Host. Faith you faſſo before.

Falso. As I am a gentleman, come, no more words of it.

Host. By this heauely ground I tread on, I muſt be faſte to
pawne both my plate, & the tapeſtry of my dining chambers.

Falso. Glaſſes glaſſes is the onely drinking and for thy wals a pretty fleight drollery, or the ſtore of the prodigal, or the Iarman hunting in waterworke, is worth a thouſand of theſe bed hangers, and theſe ſlie bitten tapeſtrie, let it be x. I'f thou canſt: come, and twere not for thy humors, thereſ not a better wench in Englan'd, goe waſh thy face and draw the action, come thou muſt not be in this humor with me, doſt not know me, come, come, I know thou waſt ſet on to this.

Host. Pray thee fir Iohn let it be but twentie nobles, if thou
I am loath to pawne my plate ſo God faue me law.

Falso. Let it alone, Ile make other thift youle be a foole ſtil.

Host. Well, you ſhall haue it, though I pawne my gowne,
I hope youle come to ſupper, voule pay me al together.

Falso. Wil I hue? goe with her, with her, hooke on, hooke
on. exit hosteſſe and ſerge-int.

Host. Will you haue Doll Tere-sheet meete you at ſupper.

Falso. No more words, lets haue her.

Lord. I haue heard better newes.

Falso. What's the newes my lord?

Lord. Where lay the King to night?

C 3

Meff.

## The second part of

Mess. At Dillinggate my Lord.

Fals. I hope my Lord al's wel, what is the newes my lord?

Lord Come all his forces backe?

Aeff. No, fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse.

Are marcht vp to my lord of Lancaster,

Against Northumberland, and the Archbishop.

Fals. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord?

Lord You shall haue letters of me prefently,

Come, go along with me, good maister Gower.

Fals. My lord.

Lord What's the matter?

Falsoffe Maister Gower, shall I intreat you with mee to dinner?

Gower I must waite vpon my good lord here, I thank you good sir Iohn.

Lord Sir Iohn, you loyter heere too long,

Being you are to take souldiers vp

In Counties as you go.

Falsoffe Will you suppe with mee maister Gower?

Lord What foolish maister taught you these manners, fit Iohn?

Falsoffe Maister Gower, if they become me not, hee was a foole that taught them mee: this is the right fencing grace, my Lord, tap for tap, and so part faire.

Lord Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great foole.

Enter the Prince, Poynes, sir Iohn Ruffel, with other.

Prince Before God, I am exceeding weary.

Poynes It come to that? I had thought wearines durst not haue attacht one of so hie cloud.

Prince Faith it does me, though it discolors the complexion of my greatnes to acknowledge it: doth it not show vildly in me, to desire small beere?

Poynes Why a Prince should not be so loosely fludied, as to remember so weake a composition.

Prince Belike then my appetite was not princely gote, for by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature small beere.

But

## Henry the fourth.

But indeed these humble considerations make me out of loue with my greatneſſe. What a difgrace is it to mee to remember thy name? or to know thy face to morow? or to take note how many paire of ſilke stockings thou haſt with theſe, and thofe that were thy peach colourd once, or to beare the inuentorie of thy ſhirts, as one for ſuperfluitie, and another for vſe. But that the Tennis court keeper knows better than I, for it is a low eb of linnen with thee when thou keepeſt not racket there, as thou haſt not done a great while, becauſe the reſt of the low Countries haue eate vp thy holland: and God knows whether thofe that bal out the ruines of thy linnen ſhal inheber his kingdom: but the Midwives ſay, the children are not in the fault whereupon the world increaſes, and kinreds are mightily ſtrengthe ned.

Poynes How ill it followes, after you haue labored so hard, you should talke so ydlely! tell me how many good yong princes woulde doe so, their fathers being so ſicke, as yours at this time is.

Prince Shall I tel thee one thing Poynes?

Poynes Yes faith, and let it be an excellent good thing.

Prince It shall ferue among wittes of no higher breeding then thine.

Poynes Go to, I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.

Prince Mary. I tell thee it is not meete that I should bee ſad now my father is ſicke, albeit I could tell to thee, as to one it pleases me for fault of a better to call my friend, I could be ſad, and ſad indeede too.

Poynes Very hardly, vpon such a ſubieſt.

Prince By this hand, thou thinkeſt me as farre in the duels booke, as thou and Falsoffe, for obduracie and perſiſtancie, let the end trie the man, but I tel thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so ſick, and keeping such vile company as thou arte, hath in reaſon taken from me all of ſentation of forrowe.

Poynes The reaſon.

Prince.

The second part of

Prince What wouldst thou thinke of me if I should weep?

Poynes I woulde thincke thee a most princely hypocrite,

Prince It would bee euery man thought, and thou arte
ableffed fellow, to thinke as euery man thinkes, neuer a mans
thought in the world, keepes the rode way better then thine,
euerie man would thinke me an hypocrite indeede, and what
accites your most worlshipfull thought to thinke so?

Poynes Why becaufe you haue been so lewd and so much
engraffed to Falftaffe. Prince And to thee,

Poyne I fy this light I am well spok on, I can heare it with
mine owne eares the worſt that they can ſay of me is that I am
a ſecond brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands,
and thofe two things I confefſe I cannot helpe : by the mafſe
here comes Bardolſe.

Enter Bardolſe and boy.

Prince And the boy that I gaue Falſtaffe, a had him from
me Christian, and looke if the fat villaine haue not transformd
him Ape.

Bard, God faue your grace,

Prince And yours most noble Bardolſe.

Poynes Come you vertuousaffe, you bafhfull foole, muſt
you be blushing, wherefore blush you now? what a maidenly
man at arines are you become? iſt such a matter to get a potule-
pots maidenhead?

Boy A calls me now my Lord, through a red lattice, and I
could diſcerne no part of his face from the window, at laſt I
ſpied his eies, and me thought he had made two holes in the ale
wiues pet-cote and ſo peep through,

Prince Has not the boy profited

Bard. Away you horſon upright rabble, away.

Boy. Awa y you rafcally Altheas dreame, away.

Prince Inſtruct vs boy, what dreame boy?

Boy Mary my lord, Althea dreampt ſhe was delivered of
a firebrand, and therefore I call him her dreame.

Prince A crownes worth of good interpretation there is
boy.

Poinés

Henry the fourth.

Poynes O that this bloſſome could be kept from cankers!
well, there is ſixpence to preferue thee.

Bard, And you do not make him hang'd among you, the gall-
lowes shall haue wrong.

Prince And how doth thy maſter Bardolſe?

Bard, Well my Lord, he heard of your graces comming to
towne, there's a letter for you.

Poynes Deſuerd with good reſpect, and how doth the mar-
tlemaſſe your maſter?

Bard, In bodily health fir.

Poynes Mary the immortall part needes a philitian, but that
moues not him, though that be ſicke, it dies not.

Prince I do allow this Wen to be as familiar with me, as my
dogge, and he holds his place, for looke you how he writes,

Poynes John Falſtaffe Knight, euery man muſt know that
as oft as he has occafion to name himſelfe: euen like thofe that
are kin to the King, for they neuer pricke their finger, but they
ſaye, there's ſome of the Kings bloud ſpilt: how comes that
(ſaies he) that takes vppon him not to conceiue the anſwer is as
ready as a borowed cap: I am the Kings poore coſin, fir.

Prince Nay they will be kin to vs, or they will fetch it from
Iaphet, but the letter. Sir John Falſtaffe knight, to the ſonne of
the king, neareſt his father, Harry prince of Wales, greeting.

Poynes Why this is a certificate.

Prince Peace,

I will imitate the honourable Romanes in breuitie.

Poynes He ſure meanes breuity in breath, ſhort winded,
I commend mee to thee, I commend thee, and, I leaue
thee, be not too familiar with Poynes, for he miſures thy ſa-
uours so much, that he ſweares thou art to mary his ſifter Nei,
repet at idle times as thou maſſt, and ſo farwel.

Thine by yea, and no, which is as much as to ſay, as
thou vſeſt him, ſacke Falſtaffe with my family,
John with my brothers and ſifters, and fir John
with all Europe.

Poynes My Lord, Ile steep this letter in ſacke and make him

D

eate

The second part of

eate it.

*Prince* That's to make him eate twenty of his words, but do you vfe me, thus Ned? must I marrie your fifter?

*Poynes* God send the wench no worse fortune, but I neuer faid so.

*Prince* Wel, thus we play the fooles with the time, and the spirits of the wife fit in the clowdes and mocke vs, is your matter here in London?

*Bard.* Yea my Lord.

*Prince* Where fups he? doth the old boare feede in the old Franke?

*Bard.* At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheape.

*Prince* V What companie?

*Boy* Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.

*Prince* Sup any women with him?

*Boy* None my lord, but old miftris Quickly, and miftris Doll Tere-sheet.

*Prince* V What Pagan may that be?

*Boy* A proper gentlewoman fir, and a kinfwoman of my masters.

*Prince* Euen such kinne as the parish Heicfors are to the towne bull, shall we feale vpon them Ned at fupper?

*Poynes* I am your shadow my Lord, ile follow you.

*Prince* Sirra, you boy and Bardolfe, no worde to your matter that I am yet come to townetheres for your filence.

*Bar.* I haue no tongue fir.

*Boy* And for mine fir, I will gourne it.

*Prince* Fare you well: go, this Doll Tere-sheete should be some rode.

*Poyns* I warrant you, as common as the way between S. Al-bons and London.

*Prince* How might we see Falltaffe beftow himself to night in his true colours, and not our felues be feene?

*Poynes* Put on two letherne ierkins and aprons, and waite vpon him at his table as drawers.

*Prince* From a god to a bul, a heauy descenfion, it was Ioues

caſe

Henry the fourth.

*caſe*, from a pince to a prentife, a low transformation, that fiall be mine, for in every thing the purpofe must weigh with the folly, follow me Ned, execuut.

*Enter Northumberland his wife, and the wife to Harry Percie.*

*North.* I pray thee louing wife and gentle daughter, Gue euen way vnto my rough affaires, Put not you on the vifage of the times, And be like them to Percy troublesome.

*Wife.* I haue giuen ouer, I will ſpeake no more, Do what you wil, your wifedome be your guide.

*North.* Alas sweete wife, my honor is at pawne, And but my going, nothing can redeem it.

*Kate.* O yet for God's sake, go not to these wars, The time was father, that you broke your word, When you were more endeere to it then now, When your own Percie, when my hearts deere Harry, Threw many a Northward looke, to see his father Bring vp his powers, but he did long in vaine.

Who then perfwaded you to flay at home? There were two honors loft, yours, and your fonnes, For yours, the God of heauen brighten it, For his, it flucke vpon him as the funne In the grey vault of heauen, and by his light Did all the Cheualry of England moue To do braue acts, he was indeede the glaſſe Wherein the noble youth did drefle themſelues.

*North.* Bethrew your heart, Faire daughter, you do draw my ſpirites from me, With new lamenting ancient ouerflights, But I must go and meete with danger there, Or it will feeke me in an other place, And find me worfe prouided.

*Wife.* O flie to Scotland, Till that the nobles and the armed commons, Haue of their puiflance made a little taſſe.

*Kate.* If they get ground and vantage of the King,

D 2

Then

The second part of

Then ioyne you with them like a ribbe of steele,
To make strength stronger: but for al our loues,
First let them true themselves, so did your sonne,
He was so suffred, so came I a widow,
And neuer shall haue length of life enough,
To raine vpon remembrance with mine eies,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heauen,
For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come go in with me, tis with my mind,
As with the tide, sweld vp vnto his height,
That makes a til tland, running neither way,
Faine would I go to meete the Archbifhop,
But many thouand reafons hold me backe,
I will refolue for Scotland, there am I,
Till time and vantage craue my company.

Enter a Drawer or two.

exeunt.

Francis What the duel haft thou brought there apple
Iohns: thou knowest fir Iohn cannot indure an apple Iohn.

Draw. Mas thou faft true, the prince once fet a dish of ap-
ple Iohns before him, and tolde him there were fue more fir
Iohns, and putting off his hat, faid, I will now take my leaue of
these fix drie, round, old, withered Knights, it angred him to
the heart, but he hath forgot that.

Fran. Why then couer and fet them downe, and fee if
thou canft find out Sneakes Noife, mistris Tere-sheet would
faine heare some muſique.

Dra. Difpatch, the roome where they supt is too hot, theile
come in straight.

Francis Sirra, here wil be the prince and maſter Poynes a-
non, and they will put on two of our ierkins and aprons, and fir
Iohn muſt not know of it, Bardolfe hath brought word.

Enter Will.

Dra. By the mas here will be old vts, it will be an excellent
ſtratagerp.

Francis Ile fee if I can find out Sneake.

exit

Enter mistris Quickly, and Doll Tere-sheet.

Quickly

Henry the fourth.

Quickly Y faith sweet heart, me thinkes now you are in an
excellent good temporalitie, Your pulſidge beats as extraor-
dinarily as heart would defire, and your colour I warrant you
is as red as any role, in good truth law: but yfaith you haue
drunke too much cannaries, and that's a maruelous searching
wine, and it perfumes the bloud ere one can fay, what's this,
how do you now?

Tere. Better then I was: hem.

Qui. Why that's well faid, a good heart's worth gold: loe
here comes fir Iohn.

enter fir Iohn.

fir Iohn When Arthur firſt in court, empty the iourdan and
was a worthy King: how now misſirs Doll?

Boſt. Sicke of a calme, yea good faith.

Falſt. So is all her feet, and they be once in a calme they are
ſicke.

Tere. A pox damne you, you muddie raſcall, is that all the
comfort you giue me?

Falſt. You make fat rafcals miſtris Doll.

Tere. I make them? gluttonie, and diſeales make, I make
them not.

Falſt. If the cooke help to make the gluttonie, you helpe to
make the diſeales Doll, we catch of you Doll, we catch of you
graunt that my poore vertue, grant that.

Doll Yea, ioy, our chaines and our iewels.

Fa. Your brooches, pearles, & ouches for to ferue braely,
is to come halting off, you know to come off the breach, with
his pike bent braely, and to ſurgerie braely, to venture vpon
the charg'd chambers braely.

Doll Hang your ſelfe, you muddie Cunger, hang your
ſelfe.

hoſt By my troth this is the old ſaſhion, you two neuer meet
but you fall to ſome diſcord, you are both ygood truth as new
matique as two dry toſts, you cannot one beare with anothers
coſfirmities, what the goodyere one muſt beare, & that muſt be
you, you are the weaker veſſell, as they fay, the emptier veſſel,

D 3

Doll.

The second part of

Dorothy Can a weake empty veſell beare ſuch a huge full
hog head? there s a whole marchâts venture of Burdeux ſtuffe
in him, you haue not ſene a hulke better ſtufft in the hold.
Come, Ile be friends with thee iacke, thou art going to the
wars, and whether I ſhall euer ſee thee againe or no there is no
body cares.

Enter drawer.

Dra. Sir, Ancient piftol's belowe, and would ſpeake with you.

Do! Hang him swaggering rafcal, let him not come hither
it is the foule-moutht ſt rogue in England.

hoſt. If he swagger, let him not come here, no by my faith I
muſt liue among my neighbours, Ile no swaggerers, I am in
good name, and fame with the very beſt: ſut the doore, there
comes no swaggerers here, I haue not liu'd al this while to haue
swaggering now, ſut the doore I pray you.

Fal. Doſt thou heare hoſſelle?

Hoſt. Pray ye paciſe your ſelfe fir Iohn, there comes no
swaggerers here.

Fal. Doſt thou heare it is mine Ancient.

Ho. Tilly ſally, fir Iohn, nere tel me: & your ancient swag-
grer comes not in my doores : I was before maifter Tificke
the debuty tother day, & (as he faid to me) twas no longer ago
than wedi'day laſt, I good faith neighbor Quickly, ſayes he,
maifter Dumb: our minifter was by then, neighbor Quickly
(faies he) receiue thoſe that are civil, for (faide he) you are in an
ill name: now a faide ſo. I can tell whereupon. For (faies he)
you are an honeſt woman, and well thought on, therefore take
heede what gheſts you receiue, receiue (faies he) no swagge-
ring companions: there comes none here: you would bleſſe
you to heare what he ſaid: no, Ile no swaggerers.

Hoſt. Hees no swaggerer hoſſelle, a tame cheter yfaith, you
may ſroke him as gently as a puppy grey-hound, heele not
swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turne backe in any
ſhew of refiſtance, call him vp Drawer.

Hoſt. Cheter call you him? I will barre no honeſt man my
house,

Henry the fourth.

house, nor no cheter, but I do not loue swagging by my troth,
I am the worſe when one faies swagger : feele maſters, how I
ſhake, looke you, I warrant you.

Tereſb. So you do hoſſelle.

Hoſt. Doe I? yea in very trueth doe I, and twere an aſpen
leafe, I cannot abide swaggrers.

Enter ancient Piftol, and Bardolfes boy.

Piftol God faue you fir Iohn.

Fal. Welcome ancient Piftoll, heere Piftoll, I charge you
with a cuppe of ſacke, do you diſcharge vpon mine hoſſelle.

Pisſt. I will diſcharge vpon her fir Iohn, with two bullets.

Fal. She is piftoll proofe : fir, you ſhall not hardly offend her.

Hoſt. Come, Ile drink no proofes, nor no bullets, Ile drink
no more than will do me good, for no mans pleasure, I.

Pisſt. Then, to you miſtris Dorothy, I will charge you.

Doro. Charge me? I ſcorne you, ſcuruy companion: what
you poore bare rafcally cheting lacke-linnen mate? away you
mouldie rogue, away, I am meate for your maifter.

Pisſ. I know you miſtris Dorothy.

Doro. Away you cutpurſe rafcall, you filthy boung, away,
by this wine Ile thrust my knife in your mouldie chappes, and
you play the ſawcie cuttle with me. Away you bottle ale raf-
call, you basket hilt ſtale iuggler, you. Since when, I pray
you fir: Gods light, with two points on your shoulder? much.

Pisſt. God let me not liue, but I will murther your ruffe for
this.

fir Iohn No more Piftol, I would not haue you go off here,
discharge your ſelfe of our company, Piftoll.

Hoſt. No, good captaine Piftoll, not here, ſweete captaine.

Doro. Captain, thou abhominable damnd cheter, art thou
not afhamed to be called Captaine? and Captaines were of my
mind, they would trunchion you out, for taking their names
vpon you, before you haue earned them: you a captaine? you
ſlaue, for what? for tearing a poore whoores ruffe in a bawdy
house: hee a captain! hang him rogue, he liues vpon mowldy
ſtewd

The second part of

stewd pruins, and dried cakes:a captaine?Gods light thefe vil-
laines wil make the word as odious as the word occupy,which
was an excellent good worde before it was il forted, therefore
captains had neeue look too t.

Bard. Pray thee go downe good Ancient.

Falso. Heare thee hither miftris Dol.

Pist. Not I, I tell thee what corporall Bardolfe, I could teare her, Ile be reuengde of her.

Boy. Pray thee go downe.

Pist. He fee her damnd firſt, to Pluto's damnd lake by this
hād to this infernal deep, with erebus & tortures vile alſo: holde
hooke and line, ſay I: downe, downe dogges, downe faters haue
we not Hiren here?

Host. Good captaine Peefell be quiet,tis very late yfaith, I
befeeke you now aggrauate your choller.

Pist. These be good humors indeede, ſhal pack-horfes, and hollow pamperd iades of Asia which cannot goe but thirtie mile a day, compare with Cæsars and with Canibals, and troiant Greekes?nay rather damne them with King Cerberus, and let the Welkin roare, ſhall we fall foule for toies?

Hoff. By my troth captaine, these are very bitter words.

Bard. Be gone good Ancient, this will grow to a brawle anon.

Pist. Men like dogges giue crownes like pins, haue we not Hiren here?

Hoff. A my word Captaine, there's none such here, what the goodyeare do you thinke I would denie her? for God's sake be quiet.

Pist. Then feed and be fat, my faire Calipolis, come giues
some facke, ſi fortune me tormente ſperato me contento, feare we
brode fides? no, let the fiend giue fire, giue me some facke, and
ſweet hart, he thou there, come we to ſul points here? and are &
cætéraes, no things?

Falso. Pistoł, I would be quiet.

Pist. Sweet Knight, I kiffe thy neaffe, what, we haue feene the ſeuen ſtaires.

Dol.

Henry the fourth.

Dol. For Gods ſake thrust him downe ſtaires, I cannot indure
such a ſuſtian rafcal.

Pist. Thrust him downe ſtaires, know we not Galloway
nagges?

Falso. Quaite him downe Bardolfe like a ſhoue-groat chil-
ling, nay, and a doe nothing but ſpeake nothing, a ſhall be no-
thing here.

Bard. Come, get you downe ſtaires.

Pist. What ſhall we haue incifion? ſhall we imbrew? then
death rocke me a ſleepe, abridge my dolefull daies: why then
let grieuons gaffly gaping wounds vntwinde the lifters three,
come Atropofe I fay.

Hoff. Heres goodly ſtuffe toward.

Falso. Giue me my rapier, boy.

Dol. I pray thee lacke, I pray thee do not drawe.

Fal. Get you downe ſtaires.

Hoff. Heres a goodly tumult, ile forſweare keeping houſe a-
fore ile be in theſe tirrits and frights, ſo, murder I warant now,
alas, alas, put vp your naked weapons, put vp your naked wea-
pons.

Dol. I pray thee lack be quiet, the rafcal's gone, ah you hor-
ſon little viauntaut villaine you.

Hoff. Are you not hurte i'th groyne? me thought a made a
ſhrewd thrust at your belly.

Fal. Haue you turnd him out a doores?

Bar. Yea fir, the rafcal's drunke, you haue hurt him fir i'th
shoulder.

Fal. A rafcal to braue me?

Dol. A you ſweet little rogue you, alas poore ape how thou
ſweatſt, come let me wipe thy face, come on you horſone
chops:a rogue, yfaith I loue thee, thou art as valorous as He-
ſtor of Troy, woorth ſiue of Agamemnon, & ten times better
then the nine Worthies, a villaine!

Fal. Ah rafcally ſlaue! I will toſſe the rogue in a blanket.

Dol. Do and thou darſt for thy heart, and thou doſt, ile can-
us thee betweene a payre of ſheetes.

T.

Boy.

The second part of

Boy The musique is come fir. enter muſicke.

Fal. Let them play, play firſ, fit on my knee Doll, a rafcal
bragging ſlaue the rogue fled from me like quickſluer.

Dot Yfaith and thou followſt him like a church, thou
horſon little tydee Bartholemew borepigge, when wilt thou
leauſe fighting a daies and foyning a nights, and begin to patch
vp thine old body for heauen.

Enter Prince and Poynes.

Fal. Peace good Doll, do not ſpeake like a cleathes head, do
not bid me remember mine end.

Dot Sirr a, what humour's the prince of?

Fal. A good ſhallow yong fellow, a would haue made a
good pantler, a would a chipt bread wel.

Dot They ſay Poines has a good wit.

Fal. He a good wit? hang him baboon, his wif's as thicke
as Tewksbury muſtard, there's no more conceit in him then is
in a mallet.

Dot Why does the prince loue him ſo then?

Fal. Because their legges are both of a bigneſſe, and a plaies
at quoites well, and eates cunger and fennel, and drinkes off
candles endes for ſlapping-dragons, and rides the wilde mare
with the boyes, and jumpes vpon ioynd-ſtooles, and ſweares
with a good grace, and weares his bootes very ſmoothe like
vnto the ſigne of the Legge, and breedes no bate with tel-
ling of diſcreet ſtories, and such other gambole faculties a has
that ſhow a weake minde, and an able bodie for the which the
prince admits him : for the prince himselfe is ſuch another, the
weight of a haire wil turne ſcales between their haber de poiz.

Prince Would not this naue of a wheele haue his eares cut
off?

Poynes Lets beate him before his whore.

Prince Looke where the witherd elder hath not his poule
dlawd like a parrot.

Poynes Is it not ſtrange that deſire ſhould ſo many yeeres
out lue performance.

Falſt, Kiffes me Doll,

Prince

Henry the fourth.

Prince Saturne and Venus this yeere in conjunction? what
faies th' Almanacke to that?

Poyns And look whether the fierie Trigon his man be not
lifping to his maſter, old tables, his note booke, his counsel kee-
per?

Falſt. Thou doſt giue me flattering buffes.

Dot By my troth I kiffle thee with a moſt constant heart.

Falſt. I am old, I am old.

Dot I loue thee better then I loue, ere a ſcuruy yong boy of
them all.

Fal. What ſtuffe wilt haue a kirtle of? I ſhall receiue mony
a thurſday, that haue a cap to morrow: a metry long, come it
growes late, weele to bed, thou'rt forget me when I am gone.

Dot I fy my troth thou'ſet me a weeping and thou falſt ſo,
proue that eu'er I dresse my ſelfe handsome til thy returne, wel
hearken a't end.

Fal. Some ſacke Francis.

Prince, Poynes Anon anon fir.

Falſt. Ha? a baſtard ſonne of the Kings? and arte not thou
Poynes his brother?

Prince Why thou globe of ſinfull continents, what a life
doſt thou leade?

Falſt. A better then thou, I am a gentleman, thou art a
drawer.

Prince Very true fir, and I come to drawe you out by the
eares.

Hoft. O the Lord preferue thy grace: by my troth welcom
to London, now the Lord bleſſe that ſweete ſace of thine, O
Ieſu, are you come from Wales?

Falſt. Thou horſon madde compound of maieſtie, by this
light, fleſh, and corrupt bloud, thou art welcome.

Doll How? you fat foolc I ſcorne you.

Poynes My lorde, he will drive you out of your reuenge,
and turne all to a meriment if you take not the heate.

Prince You horſon candlemine you, how vildly did you
ſpeake of me now, before this honesſt, vertuous, ciuill gentle-
woman?

E 2

Hoft.

The second part of

Hoff. Gods blessing of your good heart, and so she is by my troth.

Falst. Didst thou heare me?

Prince Yea and you knew me as you did, when you ranne away by Gadphil, you knew I was at your backe, and spoke it, on purpose to trie my patience.

Falst. No, no, no, not so, I did not thinke thou waft within hearing.

Prince I shall drive you then to confesse the wilfull abuse, and then I know how to handle you.

Falst. No abuse Hall a mine honour, no abuse.

Prince Not to difpraise me, and cal me pantler and bread-chipper, and I know not what?

Fal. No abuse Hall,

Poynes No abuse?

Falst. No abuse Ned i'th worlde, honest Ned, none, I difpraise him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in louve with thee: in which doing, I have done the part of a carefull friend and a true subieft, and thy father is to give me thanks for it, no abuse Hall, none Ned, none, no faith boyes none.

Prince See now whether pure feare and intire cowardize, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with vs: is she of the wicked, is thine hollerte here of the wicked, or is thy boy of the wicked, or honest Bardolfe whose zeal burnes in his nofe of the wicked?

Poynes Anfwer thou dead elme, anfwer.

Falst. The fiend hath prickt down Bardolfe irrecoverable, and his face is Lucifers priuy kitchin, where he doth nothing but roft mault-worms, for the boy there is a good angel about him, but the duel' blinds him too.

Prince For the weomen.

Falst. For one of them shees in hell already, and burnes core foules: for th' other I owe her mony, and whether she be dam'd for that I know not.

Hoff.

Henry the fourth.

Hoff. No I warrant you.

Falst. No I thinke thou art not, I thinke thou art quit for that, mary there is another inditement vpon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law, for the which I thinke thou wilt howle.

Hoff. Al vitars do so, what's a ioynt of mutton or two in a whole Lent?

Prince You gentlewoman.

Dol. What faies your grace?

Fal. His grace faies that which his flesh rebels againft.

Peyto knockes at doore.

Hoff. Who knockes so lowd at doore? looke too'th doore there Francis.

Prince Peyto, how now, what newes?

Peyto The King your father is at Weminfter, And there are twenty weake and wearied poftes, Come from the North, and as I came along I met and ouertooke a dozen captaines, Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the Tauernes, And asking euery one for fir John Falstaffe.

Prince By heauen Poines, I feele me much too blame, So idely to prophane the precious time, When tempeft of commotion like the south, Borne with blacke vapour, doth begin to melt, And drop vpon our bare vnarmed heads, Giue me my fword and cloke: Falstaffe, good night.

Exeunt Prince and Poynes.

Fal. Now comes in the sweeteft morfell of the night, & we must hence and leaue it vnpickt: more knocking at the doore? how now, what's the matter?

E 3

Bar.

The second part of

Bar. You must away to court Sir presently,
A dozen captaines stay at doore for you.

Fal. Pay the muſtians firra, farewel hofteſſe, farewel Doll, you ſee (my good wenches) how men of merit are ſought after, the vndeferuer may ſleepe, when the man of action is called on, farewell good wenches, if I bee not ſent away poſte, I will ſee you againe ere I goe.

Dol. I cannot ſpeake; if my heart be not ready to burſt! wel ſweete lacke haue a care of thy ſelfe.
Fal. Farewell, farewell. exit.

Hoft. Well, fare thee well, I haue knowne thee theſe twenty nine yeares, come peaſe-cod time, but an honeſter, and truer hearted man: wel fare thee wel.

Bard. Miftris Tere-Sheete.

Hoft. What's the matter?

Bard. Bid miſtis Tere-Sheete come to my maſter.

Hoft. O runne Doll, runne, runne good Doll, come, the comes blubberd, yea! will you come Doll?
exeunt.

Enter the King in his night-gowne
alone.

King Go call the Earlesof Surrey and of War.
But ere they come, bid them o're-reade theſe letters,
And well consider of them, make good ſpeed.
How many thousand of my pooreſt ſubieſts,
Are at this howre ſlcepe? ô ſlEEPel ò gentle ſleep!
Natures ſoft nurſe, how haue I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-liddes downe,
And ſleep my fences in forgetſulneſſe,
Why rather ſleepe lieſt thou in smoaky cribbes,
Vpon vneaſie pallets stretching thee;
And hufft with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Then in the perfumde chambers of the great,

Vnder

Henry the fourth.

Vnder the canopies of costly state,
And lulld with found of ſweeteſt melody?
O thou dull god, why liſte thou with the vile
In lothſome beds, and leaued the kingly couch,
A watch-caſe, or a common larum bell?
Wilt thou vpon the high and giddy maffe,
Seale vp the ſhip-boies eies, and rocke his braines,
In cradle of the rude imperious ſurge,
And in the viſitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian pillowes by the top,
Curling their monſtrous heads, and hanging them
V Vith deaſſing clamour in the ſlippery clouds,
That with the hurly death it ſelfe awakes?
Canſt thou, ô partiall ſleepe, giue them repoſe,
To the wet ſeafon in an howre ſo rude,
And in the calmelt, and moſt ſtilleſt night,
V Vith al appliances and meanes to boote,
Deny it to a King? then (happy) low lie downe,
Vneaſie lies the head that weares a crowne.

Enter Warwike, Surry, and Sir John
Blunt.

War. Many good morrowes to your maiſeſſe.
King Is it good morrow lords?
War. Tis one a clocke, and paſt.
King V Vhy then good morrow to you all my lords,
Haue you read ore the letter that I ſent you?
War. V VVe haue my liege.
King Then you perceiue the body of our kingdome,
How foule it is, what rancke diſeafes grow,
And with what danger neare the heart of it.
War. It is but as a body yet diſtempered,
V Vhich to his former ſtrength may be reſtored,
V Vith good aduife and little medicine,

E 4

My

The second part of

My Lord Northumberland wil soone be could.
King O God that one might reade the booke of fate,
And see the revolution of the times,
Make mountaines leuell, and the continent
Weary of solide firmenefle melt it selfe
Into the sea, and other times to see,
The beachie girdle of the ocean,
Too wide for Neptunes hips, how chances mockes,
And changes fill the cup of alteration,
With diuers liquors! O if this were feene,
The happier youth viewing his progresse through,
What perills paft, what croffes to enfue?
Would flut the booke and fit him downe and die:
Tis not ten yeeres gone,
Since Richard and Northumberland great friends,
Did feaft togither, and in two yeare after,
Were they at warres: it is but eight yeares since,
This Percie was the man neereft my foule,
Who like a brother toyld in my affaires;
And laied his loue and life vnder my foote,
Yea for my fake, euen to the eyes of Richard,
Gaeu him defvance: but which of you was by?
You couſen Neuel, (as I may remember)
When Richard with his eye-brimme full of teares,
Then checkt and rated by Northumberland,
Did speake theſe words now proou'd a prophecie:
Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
My couſen Polingbrooke aſcends my throne,
(Though then (God knowes) I had no ſuch intent,
But that neceſſiue ſo bowed the ſtate,
That I and greatneſſe were compelt to kiffe.)
The time ſhall come, thus did he follow it,
The time wil come, that foule ſin gathering head,
Shall breake into corruption: ſo went on,
Fortelling this fame times condition,

And

Henry the fourth.

And the deuifion of our amitie.
War. There is a hiftorie in all mens liues,
Figuring the natures of the times deceaſt:
The which obſeru'd, a man may prophecie,
With a neere ayme of the maine chance of things,
As yet not come to life, who in their feedes,
And weake beginning lie intreafured:
Such thinges become the hatch and broode of time,
And by the neceſtary forme of this,
King Richard might create a perſect gueſſe,
That great Northumberland then falſe to him,
Would of that feede growe to a greater falſenefle,
Which should not find a ground to roote vpon
Vnleſſe on you.

King. Are theſe thinges then neceſſities,
Then let vs meet them like neceſſities,
And that fame word euen now cries out on vs:
They ſay the Bifhop and Northumberland,
Are fifty ſ thousand strong.
War. It cannot be my Lord,
Rumour doth double like the voice, and eccho
The numbers of the feared, please it your grace,
To go to bedde: vpon my ſoule, my Lord,
The Powers that you alreadie haue ſent ſoorth,
Shall bring this prife in very easily:
To comfort you the more, I haue receiued,
A certain inſtance that Glendour is dead:
Your Maiestie hath beene this fortnight ill,
And theſe vnfeaſoned howers perſorce muſt adde
Vnto your ſickneſſe.

King. I will take your counſaile,
And were theſe inward warres once out of hand,
We would (deare Lords) vnto the holy land,

Enter Inſtice Shallow, and Inſtice
Silence.

E 5

exeunt

Shal.

The second part of

Shallow Come on, come on, come on fir, giue me your
hand fir, giue me your hand fir, an early stirrer, by the Roode:
and how dooth my good coſin Silens?

Silence Good morrow good coſin Shallow.

Shallow And how dooth my coſin your bed-fellowe?
and your fayreſt daughter and mine, my god-daughter El-
len?

Silens Alas, a blacke woofel, coſin Shallow.

Shallow By yea, and no fir : I dare faye my coofin Wil-
liam is become a good ſcholler, he is at Oxford ſtill, is hee
not?

Silens Indeede fir to my coſt.

Shallow A muſt then to the Innes a court ſhortly : I was
once of Clements Inne, where I thinke they will talke of mad
Shallow yet.

Silens You were cald Luſty Shallow then, coſin.

Shallow By the maffe I was cald any thing, and I would
haue done any thing indeed too, and roundly too : there was
I, and little Iohn Doyt of Stafford-shire, and Blacke George
Barnes, and Francis Picke-bone, and Will Squele a Cottole
man, you had not ſoure ſuch ſwinge bucklers in al the Innes
a court againe: and I may fay to you, we knew where the bona
robes were, and had the beſt of them all at commaundement:
then was Iacke Falſtaffe (now fir Iohn) a boy, and Page to
Thomas Mowbray duke of Norſtolke.

Silens Coofin, this fir Iohn that comes hither anone about
ſouldiers?

Shall. The fame (fir Iohn) the very fame, I ſee him breake
Skoggins head at the Court gate, when a was a Cracke, not
thus high: and the very fame day did I fight with one Samſon
Stockeſſa Fruiterer behinde Greyes Inne: Iefu, Iefu, the
mad dayes that I haue ſpent ! and to ſee how many of my olde
acquaintance are dead.

Silens We ſhall all follow, coofin.

Shal. Certaine, tis certaine, very ſure, very ſure, death (as the
Pſalmiſt

Henry the fourth.

Pſalmiſt (faith) is certaine to all, all ſhall die, How a good yoke
of bullockes at Samforth faire?

Silens By my troth I was not there.

Shal. Death is certaine: Is olde Dooble of your towne li-
uing yet?

Silens Dead fir.

Shal. Iefu, Iefu, dead! a drew a good bow, and dead? a ſhot
a fine ſhoote : Iohn a Gaunt loued him well, and betted much
money on his head. Dead! a would haue clapt iſth clowt at
twelue ſcore, and caried you a forehand ſhaft a ſoureſtene and
ſoureſtene and a halſe, that it would haue doone a man's heart
good to ſee. How a ſcore of Ewes now?

Silens Thereafter as they be, a ſcore of good Ewes may be
worth tenne pounds.

Shal. And is olde Dooble dead?

Silens Heere come twoo of fir Iohn Falſtaffes men, as I
thinke.

Enter Bardolfe, and one with him.

Good morrow honeſt gentlemen.

Bard. I beſeech you, which is luſtice Shallow?

Shall. I am Robert Shallow fir, a poore Efquire of this
Countie, and one of the Kings Iuſtices of the Peace: what is
your pleafure with me?

Bard. My Captaine, fir, commends him to you, my Cap-
taine fir Iohn Falſtaffe, a tall gentleman, by heauen, and a moſt
gaſtant Leader.

Shall. He greets me wel, fir, I knew him a good backſword
man: how doth the good knight ? may I aske how my Ladie
his wife doth?

Bar. Sir, pardon, a ſouldiour is better accommodate than
with a wife.

Shallow It is well fayde in faith fir, and it is well fayde in-
deede too, better accommodated, it is good, yea in deede is
it,

The second part of

it, good phrases, are surely, and euer were, very commendable, accommodated: it comes of *accommodo*, very good, a good phrase.

Bardoife Pardon me, sir, I haue heard the word, phrase call you it? by this good day, I knowe not the phrase, but I will mayntayne the word with my word, to bee a sufficient-like word, and a word of exceeding good command, by heauen: accommodated, that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated, or when a man is, beeing whereby, a may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

*Enter sir John Falstaffe.*

Just. It is very just: looke, here comes good sir John, giue me your good hand, giue mee your worships good hand, by my troth you like well, and beare your yees very well, welcome good sir John.

Fal. I am glad to see you well, good maister Robert Shal-low, maifter Soccard (as I thinke.)

Shal. No sir John, it is my coofin Silens, in commission with me.

Falst. Good maifter Silens, it well befits you should be of the Peace.

Silens Your good worship is welcome.

Falst. Fie, this is hot weather (gentlemen) haue you prouided me heere halfe a dozen sufficient men?

Shal. Mary haue we fir, will you fit?

Falst. Let me see them I befeech you.

Shall. Wheres the rowle? wheres the rowle? wheres the rowle? let me see, let me see, so, so, so, so (so, so) yea mary fir, Rafe Mouldy, let them appeere as I call, let them do so, let the do so, let me see, where is Mouldy?

Mouldy Here and it please you.

Shal. What think you sir John, a good limbd fellow, yong, strong,

Henry the fourth.

Strong, and of good friends.

Fal. Is thy name Mouldie?

Moul. Yea, and't please you.

Fal. Is the more time thou wert vfe.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha. most excellent yfaith, things that are moul-dy lacke vfe: very singular good, in faith well faid sir John. very well faid.

John pricke him.

Moul. I was prickt wel enough before, and you could haue let me alone, my old dame will be vndone now for one to doe her husbandrie, and her drudgery, you need not to haue prickt me, there are other men fitter to go out then I.

Fal. Go to, peace Mouldy, you shall go, Mouldy it is time you were spent.

Moul. Spent?

Shal. Peace fellow, peace, stand aside, know you where you are? for th'other sir John: let me see Simon Shadow.

Fal. Yea, Mary, let me haue him to fit vnder, hees like to be a cold soldier.

Shal. Wheres Shadow?

Shad. Here fir.

Fal. Shadow, whose sonne art thou?

Shad. My mothers sonne fir.

Fal. Thy mothers fonne: like enough, and thy fathers shadow, so the sonne of the female is the shadow of the male: it is often so, indeed, but much of the fathers substance.

Shal. Do you like him fir John?

Fal. Shadow will serve for summer, pricke him, for we have a number of shadowes, fill vp the mufter booke.

Shal. Thomas Wart.

Fal. Wheres he?

Wart. Here fir.

Fal. Is thy name Wart?

Wart. Yea fir.

Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart.

Shal. Shall I pricke him fir John?

Fal. It were superfluous, for apparell is built vpon his back,

F

and

The second part of

and the whole frame stands vpon pins, pricke him no more.

Shal. Ha,ha,ha,you can do it fir,you can do it,I commend you well: Francis Feeble.

Feeble Here fir,

Shal. What trade art thou Feeble?

Feeble A womans tailer fir.

Shal. Shall I pricke him fir?

Fal. You may, but if he had bin a mans tailer hee'd a prickt you: wilt thou make as manie holes in an enemies battaille, as thou haft done in a womans peticoate.

Feeble I will do my good will fir,you can haue no more.

Fal. Well faide good womans tailer, well faide courageous Feeble, thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathfull doue, or moft magnanimous moufe,pricke the womans tailer: wel M.Shallow, deepe M. Shallow.

Feeble I would Wart might haue gone fir.

Fal. I would thou wert a mans tailer, that thou mightst mend him and make him fit to goe,I cannot put him to a private Souldier, that is the leader of so many thousands, let that suffice moft forcible Feeble,

Feeble It shall suffice fir.

Fal. I am bound to thee reuerend Feeble, who is next?

Shal. Peter Bul-calfe o'th greene,

Fal. Yea mary,lets see Bul-calfe,

Bul. Here fir.

(roare againe.

Fal. Fore God a likely fellow, come pricke Bul-calfe til hee

Bul. O Lord,good my lord captaine.

Falst. What, doft thou roare before thou art prickt?

Bul. O Lord fir,I am a diseafe man.

Fal. What diseafe haft thou?

Bul. A horzon cold fir, a cough fir, which I cought with ringing in the Kings affaires vpon his coronation day fir.

Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the warres in a gowne,we wil haue away thy cold, and I wil take such order that thy friendes shall ring for thee. Is here all?

Shal. Here is two more cold then your number, you must haue

Henry the fourth.

haue but foure here fir, and so I pray you goe in with mee to dinner.

Fa. Come,I wil go drink with you,but I cannot tary dinner: I am glad to see you, by my troth mafter Shallow.

Shal. O fir Iohn, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint Georges field?

Fal. No more of that mafter Shallow.

Shal. Ha,twas a merry night, and is lane Night-worke a-kue?

Falst. She lies mafter Shallow.

Shal. She neuer could away with me.

Fa. Neuer neuer,she wold alwaies say,she could not abide mafter Shallow.

Shal. By the maffe I could anger her too'th heart, she was then a bona roba,doth she hold her owne wel?

Fal. Old old mafter Shallow.

Shal. Nay she must be old,she cannot chuse but be old,certain shees old,& had Robin Night-work by old Night-work, before I came to Clements inne.

Scilens. That's fiftie fiue yeare ago.

Shal. Ha couſen Scilens that thou hadft seene that that this Knight and I haue seene,ha fir Iohn, faid I wel?

Fal. We haue heard the chimes at midnight M.Shallow.

She. That we haue that we haue, that we haue,in faith fir John we haue, our watch-worde was Hemboies, come lets to dinner,come lets to dinner,Iefus the daies that wee haue seene, come, come.

Bul. Good maifter corporate Bardolſe, ſtand my friend, & heres foure Harry ten ſhillings in french crowns for you, in very truth fir,. I had as lue be hangd fir as go,and yet for mine owne part fir I do not care, but rather becaufe I am vnwilling, and for mine owne part haue a defire to ſtay with my friends, else fir I did not care for mine owne part so much.

Bard. Go to, ſtand alide.

Moul. And good M.corporall captaine,for my old dames fake ſtand my friend, ſhe has no body to doe any thing about her

F 2

The second part of

her when I am gone, and she is old and cannot helpe her selfe,
you shall haue forty fir.

Bar. Go to, I stand afide.

Feeble By my troth I care not, a man can die but once, we
owe God a death, ile nere beare a bafe mind, and't bee my
destny:so,and't be not,so,no man's too good to ferue's prince,
and let it go which way it will, he that dies this yeere is quit for
the next.

Bar. Well faid, that art a good fellow.

Feeble Faith ile beare no bafe mind.

Enter Falstaffe and the Justices.

Fal. Come fir, which men shall I haue?

Shal. Foure of which you pleafe.

Bar. Sir, a word with you, I haue three pound to free Moul-
dy and Bulcalfe.

Fal. Go to, well.

Shal. Come fir Iohn, which foure wil you haue?

Fal. Do you chuse for me.

Shal. Mary then, Mouldy, Bulcalfe, Feeble, and Sadow.

Fal. Mouldy and Bulcalfe, for you Mouldy flay at home, til
you are past feruice: and for your part Bulcalfe, grow til you
come vnto it, I will none of you.

Shal. Sir Iohn, fir Iohn, doe not your selfe wrong, they are
your likelieft men, and I would haue you ferude with the
best.

Fal. Wil you tel me (mafter Shallow) how to chuse a man?
care I for the limbe, the thewes, the slature, bulke and big af-
semblance of a man: giue me the spirit M. Shallow: heres Wart,
you see what a ragged apparance it is, a shall charge you, and
discharge you with the motion of a pewterers hammer, come
off and on swifter then he that gibbets on the brewers bucket:
and this fame halfe facde fellow Shadow, giue me this man, he
prefents no marketo the enemy, the fo-man may with as great
aime level at the edge of a pen-knife, and for a retraite how
swifty wil this Feeble the womans Tailer runne off? O giue
me the spare men, and spare me the great ones, putte mee a
caliuer

Henry the fourth.

caliuer into Warts hand Bardolfe.

Bar. Hold Wart, trauers thas, thas, thas.

Fal. Come mannage me your caliuer: so, very wel, go to, very
good, exceeding good, O giue me alwaies a little leane, olde
chopt Ballde, sflot: well faid yfaith Wart, th'art a good scab,
hold, there's a tefter for thee.

Shal. He is not his crafts-mafter, he doth not do it right. I
remember at Mile-end-greene, when I lay at Clements Inne,
I was then fir Dagonet in Arthurs show, there was a little
quinner fellow, and a would mannage you his peece thus, and a
would about and about, and come you in, and come you in,
rah, tah, tah, would a fay, bounce would a fay, and away again
would a go, and againe would a come: I shall nere see such a
fellow.

Fal. Thesefellowes wooll doe well M. Shallow, God keep
you M. Scilens, I will not vse many words with you, fare you
wel gentlemen both, I thank you, I must a dozen mile to night:
Bardolfe, giue the fouldiers coats.

Shal. Sir Iohn, the Lord bleffe you, God prosper your af-
faires, God fend vs peace at your returne, visit our house, let
our old acquaintance be renewed, peraduenture I will with ye
to the court.

Fal. Fore God would you would.

Shal. Go to, I haue spoke at a word, God keep you.

Fal. Fare you well gentle gentlemen.

exit

Shal. On Bardolfe, leade the men away, as I returne I will
fetch off these iustices, I do see the bottome of iustice Shallow,
Lord, Lord, how subieft we old men are to this vice of lying,
this fame Staru'd iustice hath done nothing but prate to me,
of the wildnesse of his youth, and the feates he hath done a-
bout Turne-bull ftreeet, and euery third word a lie, dewer paid
to the hearer then the Turkes tribute, I doe remember him
at Clements Inne, like a man made after supper of a cheefe pa-
ring, when a was naked, he was for all the worlde like a forkt
reddith with a head fantastically carued vpon it with a knife,
a was so for lorne, that his dementions to any thicke fight were

inuiu-

F 3

The second part of

inuincible, a was the very genius of famine, yet lecherous as a
monkie,& the whores cald him mandrake,a came ouer in the
rereward of the fashion , and fung thofe tunes to the ouer-
schutcht hufwuiues, that he heard the Car-men whistle, and
fware they were his fancies or his good-nights, and nowe is
this vices dagger become a fquire, and talkes as familiarly of
Iohn a Gaunt, as if he had bin fworne brother to him, and
ile be fworn a nere faw him but once in the tylt-yard, and then
he burft his head for crowding among the Marshhalles men, I
faw it and told Iohn a Gaunt he beate his owne name, for you
might haue thrust him and all his aparell into an cele-skin, the
cafe of a treble hoboy was a manfion for him a Court, and
now has he land and beefes. Well ile be acquainted with him
if I returne,and t'hal go hard,but ile make him a philofophers
two fones to me,if the yong Dafe be a baite for the old Pike,
I fee no reafon in the law of nature but I may fnap at him, till
Time shape,and there an end.

Enter the Archbishop, Mowbray, Bardolfe, Hastings, within
the forrest of Gaultree.

Bish. What is this forreft calld?

Hast. Tis Gaultree forreft, and't hal plesse your grace.

Bishop Here stand,my lords,and lend discouerers forth,
To know the numbers of our enemies:

Hastings We haue sent forth already.

Bishop Tis well done,

My friends and brethren (in thefe great affaires)

I muſt acquaint you, that I haue receu'd

New dated letters from Northumberland,

Their cold intent, tenure, and ſubstance thus :

Here doth he wifh his perſon, with ſuch powers,

As might hold ſonſance with his quallitie,

The which he could not leny : whereupon

He is retirde to ripe his growing fortunes,

To Scotland, and concludes in hearty prayers,

That your attempts may ouer-lie the hazard

And fearefull meeting of their oppoſite.

Momb.

Henry the fourth.

Momb. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,

And daſh themſelues to peeces.

Enter meſſenger

Hastings Now, what newes?

Meffenger Weſt of this forreſt, ſcarcely off a mile,
In goodly ſorme comes on the enemy,

And by the ground they hide, I judge their number'
Vpon, or neere the rate of thirty thouſand.

Mowbray The juſt proportion that we gaue them out,
Let vs ſway on, and face them in the field.

Bishop What we appointed Leader fronts vs heere?

Enter Westmerland

Mowbray I thinke it is my lord of Westmerland.

Weſt. Health and faire greeting from our Generall,
The prince lord Iohn and duke of Lancaſter.

Bishop Say on my lord of VWestmerland in peace,
VWhat doth concerne your comming?

We. Then my L. vnto your Grace do I in chieſe addreſſe
The ſubſtance of my ſpeech: if that rebellion
Came like it ſelfe, in bafe and abiect rowtes,
Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
And countenaunſt by boyes and beggary.
I ſay, if damnd commotion ſo appeare,
In his true, native, and moſt proper ſhape,
You, reuerend father, and theſe noble Lordes,
Had not beene heere to drefſe the owgly ſorme
Of bafe and bloody Inſurrection

With your faire Honours. You (lord Archbihop)

Whofe Sea is by a cuile peace maintain'd,

Whofe beard the filuer hand of Peace hath toucht,

Whofe learning and good letters Peace hath tutord,

Whofe white inueſtments figure innocence,

The Doue, and very bleſſed ſpindle of peace.

Wherefore do you ſo ill tranſlate your ſelfe

Out of the ſpeech of peace that beares ſuch grace,

Into the harſh and boyſtrous tongue of warre?

Turning your bookes to graues, your incke to bloud,

You

The second part of

Your pennes to launces, and your tongue diuine,

To a lowd trumpet, and a point of warre?

*Bish*. Wherefore do I this so the queestion stands:

Briefly, to this end we are all diseafde:

The dangers of the daie's but newly gone,

VWherefore memorie is written on the earth,

VWith yet appearing blood, and the examples

Of euery minutes inſtance (prefent now.)

Hath put vs in theſe ill-beſeeming armes,

Not to breake peace, or any braunch of it,

But to eſtablish heere a peace indeede,

Concurring both in name and quallitie.

*West.* V When euer yet was your appeale denied

VWherein hane you beene galled by the King?

What peere hath beene subornde to grate on you?

That you should ſeale this lawleſſe bloody booke

Offorgde rebellion with a ſeale diuine,

And conſeerate commotions bitter edge.

*Bishop.* My brother General, the common wealth

To brother borne an hoſhould cruelty,

I make my quarrell in particular.

*West.* There is no neede of any ſuch redreſſe,

Or if there were, it not belongs to you.

*Mowbray.* Why not to him in part, and to vs all

That ſeele the bruſes of the daies before?

And ſuffer the condition of theſe times,

To lay a heauy and vnequall hand

Vpon our honors.

*West.* But this is meere digreſſion from my purpofe.

Here come I from our princely generall,

To know your griefes, to tell you from his Grace,

That he will giue you audience, and wherein

It ſhall appeere that your demaunds are iuſt,

You ſhall enioy them, euery thing ſet off

That might ſo much as thinke you enemies.

*Mowbray.* But he hath forſc'd vs to compel this offer,

And

Henry the fourth.

And it proceedes from policie, not loue.

*West.* Mowbray, you ouerweene to take it so:

This offer comes from mercy, not from ſeare:

For loe, within a ken our army lies:

Vpon mine honour, all too confident

To giue admittance to a thought of ſeare:

Our battell is more full of names than yours,

Our men more perfect in the vſe of armes,

Our armour all as ſtrong, our cauſe the beſt:

Then Reaſon will our hearts ſhould be as good:

Say you not then, our offer is compell'd.

*Mom.* Well, by my will, we shall admit no parlee.

*West.* That argues but the ſhame of your offence,

A rotten cafe abides no handling.

*Haſtings.* Hath the prince Iohn a full commission,

In very ample vertue of his father,

To heare, and absolutely to determine

Of what conditions we ſhall stand vpon?

*West.* That is intended in the Generalles name,

I muſe you make so flight a queſtion.

*Bishop.* Then take, my lord of Westmerland, this ſcedule,

For this containes our generall grieuances,

Each ſeueral article herein redreſſt,

All members of our cauſe both here and hence,

That are enſinewed to this action,

Acquitted by a true ſubſtantiall forme,

And preſent execution of our willes,

To vs and our purpofes conſinſe,

We come within our awe ſull bancks againe,

And knit our powers to the arme of peace.

*West.* This will I ſhow the Generall, please you Lords,

In flight of both our battells we may meete,

At either end in peace, which God ſo frame,

Or to the place of diſſrence call the ſwords,

Which muſt decide it.

*Exii Westmerland.*

*Bishop.* My lord, we will do so,

G

*Mom.*

The second part of

Mou There is a thing within my beſome tells me
That no conditions of our peace can ſtand,
Haſtings Feare you not, that if we can make our peace,
Vpon ſuch large termes, and ſo abſolute,
As our conditions ſhall confiſt vpon,
Our peace ſhall stand as firme as rockie mountains.

Mou. Yea but our valuation ſhal be ſuch,
That euery flight, and ſale deriued cauſe,
Yea euery idle, nice, and wanton reaſon,
Shall to the King taſte of this action,
That were our royal faiths martires in loue,
We ſhall be winow'd with ſo rough a wind,
That euen our corner ſhal ſeeme as light as chaffe,
And good from bad find no partition.

By. No, no, my lord, note this, the King is weary
Of daintie and ſuch picking greeuances,
For he hath found, to end one doubt by death,
Reuiues two greater in the heires of life:
And therefore will he wipe his tables cleane,
And keepe no tel. tale to his memorie,
That may repeat, and hifory his loſſe,
To new remembrance: for full well he knowes,
He cannot ſo precifely weed this land,
As his miſdoubts preſent occasion,
His foes are ſo enrooted with his friends,
That plucking to vnfix an enemy,
He doth vnſaſten ſo, and ſhake a friend,
So that this land, like an offenſiue wife,
That hath enragde him on to offer ſtrokes,
As he is ſtriking, holdes his infant vp,
And hangs reſolu'd correction in the arme,
That was vpreard to execution.

Haſt. Befides, the King hath waſted al his rods,
On late offenders, that he now doth lacke
The very instruments of chaſticement,
So that his power, like to a phangleſſe lion,

May

Henry the fourth.

May offer, but not hold,
Bishop Tis very true,
And therefore be aſſurde, my good Lord Marshall,
If we do now make our attonement well,
Our peace wil like a broken limbe vnited,
Grow ſtronger for the breaking.

Mow. Be it so, here is returned my lord of Westmerland.

Enter Westmerland,

Weſt. The prince is here at hand, pleafeth your Lordship
To meet his grace iuſt distance tweene our armies.

Enter Prince John and his armies.

Mow. Your grace of York, in God's name then fet forward.
Bishop. Before, and greete his grace (my lord) we come.
John. You are well incountred here, my couſen Mowbray,
Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbifhop,
And so to you Lord Haſtings, and to all.
My Lord of Yorke, it better ſhewed with you,
When that your flocke affembled by the bell,
Encircled you, to heare with reuerence,
Your expoſition on the holy text,
That now to fee you here, an yron man talking,
Cheering a rowt of rebells with your drumme,
Turning the word to ſword, and life to death:
That man that fits within a monarches heart,
And ripens in the ſun, ſhine of his fauor,
Would he abufe the countenance of the King:
Alacke what miſcheefes might he fet abroad,
In ſhadow of ſuch greatneſſe? with you Lord bifhop
It is euen ſo, who hath not heard it ſpoken,
How deepe you were within the bookes of God,
To vs the ſpeaker in his parliament,
To vs thinke voice of God himſelfe,
The very opener and intelligencer,
Betweene the grace, the fanctities of heauen,
And our dull workings? O who ſhal beleeue,
But you miſufe the reuerence of your place,

G 2

Imply

The second part of

Imply the countenance and grace of heau'n,
As a false favorite doth his princes name:
In deedes dithonorable you haue tane vp,
Vnder the counterfeited zeale of God,
The subjeets of his subfubitute my father,
And both against the peace of heauen and him,
Haue here vpswarnd them.

*Bishop* Good my Lord of Lancafter,
I am not here against your fathers peace,
But as I told my lord of Westmerland,
The time mifordred doth in common sense,
Crowd vs and crush vs to this monftrous forme,
To hold our safety vp: I fent your grace,
The parcells and particulars of our griefe,
The which hath beene with ſcorne ſhoued from the court,
Whereon this Hidra, ſonne of warre is borne,
Whose dangerous cies may well be charmed aſſeep,
With graunt of our mofft iuſt, and right deſires,
And true obedience of this madnes cured,
Stoope tamely to the foote of maiestie.

*Mow.* If not, we ready are to trie our fortunes,
To the laſt man.

*Haſt.* And though we here fal downe,
We haue supplies to ſecond our attempt,
If they miſcarry, theirs ſhal ſecond them,
And ſo ſaceſſe of miſchione ſhall be borne,
And heire from heire ſhall hold his quarrell vp,
Whiles England ſhall haue generation.

*Prince.* You are too ſhallow Haſtings, much too ſhallow,
To found the bottome of the after times.

*Wesf.* Pleaſeth your grace to anſwere them directly,
How far forth you do hke their articles.

*Prince.* I like them all, and do allow them well,
And ſweare here by the honour of my bloud,
My fathers purpofes haue beene miſtooke,
And ſome about him haue too lauiflyly,

Wrested

Henry the fourth.

*Wrested* his meaning and authority.
My Lord, these griefes shall be with ſpeed redrest,
Vppon my ſoule they ſhal, if this may pleafe you,
Diſcharge your powers vnto their ſeverall counties,
As we will ours, and here betweene the armies,
Lets drinke together friendly and embrace,
That all their cies may beare those tokens home,
Of our restored loue and amitie.

*Bishop.* I take your princely word for these redresse,
I giue it you, and will maintaine my word,
And thereupon I drinke vnto your grace.

*Prince.* Go Captaine, and deluer to the armie
This newes of peace, let them haue pay, and part.
I know it will well please them, hie thee captaine.

*Bishop.* To you my noble lord of Westmerland.
West. I pledge your grace, and if you knew what paines,
I haue beſtowed to breed this preſent peace,
You would drinke freely, but my loue to ye
Shall ſhew it ſelfe more openly hereafter.

*Bishop.* I do not doubt you.
West. I am glad of it,
Health to my Lord, and gentle cosin Mowbray.

*Mow.* You with me health in very happy ſeafons,
For I am on the ſodaine ſomething ill.

*Bishop.* Againſt ill chaunces men are euer mery,
But heauineſſe ſore-runnes the good euent.

*West.* Therefore be mery coze, ſince ſodaine ſorrow
Serues to ſay thus, ſome good thing comes to morow.

*Bishop.* Peleene me I am paſſing light in ſpirit,
Mow. So much the worse if your owne rule be true, / hour.

*Prin.* The word of peace is rendred heark how they ſhowt.

*Mow.* This had bin cheerefull after victory.
Bishop. A peace is of the nature of a conquelt,

For then both parties nobly are ſubdued,
And neither party looſer.

*Prince.* Go my lord,

G 3

And

The second part of

And let our army be discharged too,
And, good my lord, so please you, let our traines

March by vs that we may peruse the men,
We should have coap't with all.

Bishop Go, good Lord Haſtings,

And ere they be dismiſt, let them march by, enter Westmerland.

Prince I truſt Lords we ſhal lie to night togither:

Now cooſin, wherefore ſtands our army ſtil?

West. The Leaders having charge from you to ſtand,
Wil not goe off vntil they heare you ſpeake.

Prince They know their dueties.

enter Haſtings

Haſtings My lord, our army is diſperſt already,

Like youthfull ſteeres vnyoakt they take their courſes,
Eaſt, weaſt, north, south, or like a Schoole broke vp,

Each hurries toward his home, and ſporting place.

West. Good tidings my lord Haſtings, for the which
I do areſt thee traitor of high treason,

And you lord Archbiſhop, and you lord Mowbray,
Of capitall treason I attach you both.

Mowbray Is this proceeding iſt and honorable?

West. Is your aſſembly so?

Bishop will you thus breake your faith?

Prince I pawne thee none,

I promiſt you redreſſe of theſe fame griuences

Whereof you did complaine, which by mine honour

I will performe, with a moſt Christian care.

But for you rebels, looke to taſte the due

Meete for rebellion:

Moſt shallowly did you theſe armes commence,

Fondly brought heere, and foolishly ſent hence.

Strike vp our drummes, purſue the ſcattred ſtray:

God, and not we, hath faſely fought to day:

Some guard this traitour to the blocke of death,

Treasons true bed, and yeelder vp of breath.

Alarum

Enter Falſtaffe

excursions

Fal. what's your name fir, of what condition are you, and

Henry the fourth.

of what place?

Cole. I am a Knight fir, and my name is Coleuile of the
Dale.

Fal. well then, Colleuile is your name, a Knight is your degree, and your place the dale: Coleuile ſhal be full your name, a traitor your degree, & the dungeon your place, a place deep enough, ſo shall you be ſtul Colleuile of the Dale.

Cole. Are not you fir John Falſtaffe?

Fal. As good a man as he fir, who ere I am: doe ve yeelde
fir, or ſhall I ſweat for you? if I doe ſweate, they are the drops
of thy louers, and they weepe for thy death, therefore rowze
vp ſeare and trembling, and do obſeruance to my mercie.

Cole. I think you are fir John Falſtaffe, and in that thought
yeelde me.

Fal. I haue a whole ſchool of tongues in this belly of mine,
and not a tongue of them all ſpeakes any other word but my
name, and I had but a belly of any indifferencie, I were ſimply
the moſt active fellow in Europe: my womb, my wombe, my
womb vndoes me, heere comes our Generall.

Enter John Westmerland, and the rest.

Estratæ

John The heate is paſt, follow no further now,
Call in the powers good cooſin Westmerland.

Now Falſtaffe, where haue you beene all this while?

V When euery thing is ended, then you come:

These tardy trickes of yours wil on my life

One time or other breake some gallowes backe.

Fal. I would bee ſory my lord, but it ſhould bee thus: I
neuer knew yet but Rebuke and Checke, was the rewarde of
Valor: do you thinke me a ſwallow, an arrow, or a bullet? haue
I in my poore and old motion the expedit ion of thought? I
haue ſpeeded hither with the very extreameſt inch of poſſibi-
lity, I haue foundred nineſcore and od poſtes, and here trauell
tainted as I am, haue in my pure and immaculate valour, ta-
ken fir John Colleuile of the Dale, a moſt furious Knight and
valorous enemy, : but what of that he ſaw me, and yeelde,
that I may iuſtly lay with the hooke-nosde fellow of Rome,

their

## The second part of

there cosin, I came, law, and ouercame.

*John.* It was more of his curtesie then your deferuing.

*Falst.* I know not, here he is, and here I yeeld him, and I befeech your grace let it be bookte with the reft of this daies deedes, or by the Lord, I wil haue it in a particular ballad else, with mine owne picture on the top on't, (Coleuile killing my foote) to the which course, if I bee enforft, if you doe not all shew like guilt two pences to mee, and I in the cleere skie of Fame, ore fhine you as much as the full moone doth the cindrars of the element, (which shew like pinnes heads to her) beleeue not the worde of the noble : therefore let me haue right, and let Desert mount.

*Prince.* Thine's too heavy to mount.

*Falst.* Let it fhine then.

*Prince.* Thines too thickc to fhine.

*Falst.* Let it do some thing, my good lord, that may doe me good, and call it what you will.

*Prince.* Is thy name Colleuile?

*Col.* It is my Lord.

*Prince.* A famous rebell art thou Colleuile.

*Falst.* And a famous true subieſt tooke him.

*Col.* I am my lord but as my betters are,
That led me hither, had they bin rulde by me,
You should haue wonne them deerer then you haue.

*Fal.* I know not how they fold themfelues, but thou like a kind fellow gaueft thy selfe away gratis, and I thanke thee for thee. *enter Westmerland.*

*Prince.* Now, haue you left purſuit?

*West.* Retraite is made, and execution ſtayd.

*Prince.* Send Colleuile with his confederates

*To Yorke, to present execution,
Blunt leade him hence, and see you guard him ſure.
And now difpatch we toward the court my lordes,
I heare the King my father is fore ſick,
Our newes shall go before vs to his maiestie,
Which cosin you ſhall beare to comfort him,*

And

## Henry the fourth.

And we with ſober ſpeede will follow you.

*Falst.* My Lord, I beſeech you giue me leauë to go through Gloſterſhire, and when you come to court, stand any good lord in your good report.

*Prince.* Fare you well Falſtaffe, I, in my condition, ſual better ſpake of you then you deferue.

*Fal.* I would you had the wit, twere better than your duke-
dome, good faith this fame yong ſober blouded boy doth not
loue me, nor a mā canot make him laugh, but that's no maruel,
he drinkes no wine, there's neuer none of these demure boyes
come to any proofe, for thin drinke doth so ouer-coole theyr
blood, and making many fish meales, that they fall into a kind
of male greene ſicknes, and then when they marry, they gette
wenches, they are generally fooles and cowards, which ſome
of vs ſhould be too, but for inflammation: a good ſherris ſacke
hath a two fold operation in it, it ascendes mee into the braine,
dries me there all the foolish, and dull and crudy vapors which
enuirone it, makes it apprehenſiue, quicke, forgetive, full of
nimble, ſiery, and delectable ſhapes, which deliuered ore to
the voyce, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent
wit. The ſecond property of your excellent ſherris, is the war-
ming of the blood, which before (cold & fetled.) left the lyuer
white & pale, which is the badge of pufilanimitie and cowar-
dize: but the ſherris warmes it, and makes it courſe from the
inwards to the partes extreames, it illumineth the ſace, which
as a beakon, giues warning to al the reſt of this little kingdom
man to arme, and then the vitall commoners, and inland petty
spirits, muſter me all to their captaine, the heart who great and
pufft vp with this retinew, doth any deed of courage: and this
valour comes of ſherris, ſo that skill in the weapon is nothing
without ſacke (for that ſets it aworke) and learning a meere
whoord of gold kept by a diuell, till ſacke commences it, and
fets it in act and vſe. Hereof comes it, that Prince Harry is
valiant, for the cold blood he did naturally inherite of his fa-
ther, he hath like leane, ſterile, and bare land, manared, hus-
banded and tilld, with excellent endeuour of drinking good

H

and

The second part of

and good store of fertile cherris, that he is become very hote
and valiant. If I had a thousand sonnes, the first humane prin-
ciple I would teach them, should be, to forswear thinpotati-
ons, and to addict themselves to lacke. How now Bardolfe?

Enter Bardolfe.

Bar. The army is discharged all, and gone.

Fal. Let them goe, ile through Gloftershire,and there will I visit M. Robert Shallow Esquire, I haue him already tempring betweene my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I leate with him, come away.

Enter the King, Warwike, Kent, Thomas duke of Clarence,
Humphrey of Gloucester.

King Now lords, if God doth giue sufficient end,
To this debate that bleedeth at our doores,
We will our youth leade on to higher fields,
And draw no words but what are sanctified:
Our naue is addreſt, our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well inueſted,
And every thing lies leuell to our will,
Only we want a little personal ſtrength:
And pawſe vs til these rebels now afoote,
Come vnderneath the yoke of government.

War. Both which we doubt not, but your maiety
Shal foone enioy.

King Humphrey my sonne of Glofter, where is the prince
your brother?

Glo. I thinke hees gone to hunt, my lord, at Winſor.

King And how accompanied?

Glo. I do not know, my lord.

King Is not his brother Thomas of Clarence with him?

Glo. No, my good lord, he is in prefence here.

Clar. What would my lord and father?

Kin Nothing but well to thee Thomas of Clarence,
How chance thou art not with the prince thy brother?
He loues thee, and thou doſt neglect him, Thomas,
Thou haſt a better place in his affection

Then

Henry the fourth.

Then all thy brothers, cheriſh it my boy:
And noble offices thou maiſt effect
Of mediation after I am dead,
Betweene his greatneſſe and thy other brethren:

Therefore omit him not, blunt not his loue,
Nor looke the good aduantage of his grace,
By feeming cold, or careleſſe of his will,
For he is gracious if he be obſeru'd,
He hath a teare for pittie, and a hand,
Open as day for meeting charitie,
Yet notwithstanding being incenſt, he is flint,

As humorous as winter, and as sodaine
As flawes congealed in the spring of day:

His temper therefore must be well obſeru'd,
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,

When you perceiue his bloud inclind to mirth:
But being moody, giue him time and ſcope,

Till that his paſſions, like a whale on ground
Conſound themselves with working, learneth this Thomas,
And thou ſhalt proue a ſhelter to thy friends,

A hoope of gold to binde thy brothers in,
That the united veſſell of their bloud,

(Mingled with venome of ſuggestion,
As force perſorce, the age will powre it in.)

Shall neuer leake, though it doe worke as ſtrong,
As Aconitum, or rafh gunpowder.

Cla. I ſhall obſerue him with all care and loue.

King Why art thou not at Winſore with him Thomas?

Tho. He is not there to day, he dines in London.

King And how accompanied?

Tho. With Poines, and other his continuall followers.

King Most ſubieſt is the fatteſt ſoyle to weeds,

And he, the noble image of my youth,
Is ouerſpread with them, therefore my griefe

Stretches it ſelfe beyond the howre of death:

The bloud weepes from my heart when I do shape,

H 2

Ic

The second part of

In forms imaginary, the unguityed daies,
And rotten times that you shall looke vpon,
When I am sleeping with my auncessors:
For when his head is strong not hath no curbe,
V When rage and hot bloud are his counsellors,
V When meanes and lauish manners meete together,
Oh with what wings shall his affections flie,
Towards fronting peril and oppofe decay?

War. My gracious Lord, you looke beyond him quite,
The prince but studies his companions,
Like a strange tongue wherein to gaine the language:
Tis needfnul that the most immodest word,
Be lookt vpon and learnt, which once attaind,
Your highneſſe knowes comes to no further vſe,
But to be knowne and hated: so, like groſſe termes,
The prince will in the perſectneſſe of time,
Caſt off his followers, and their memory
Shall as a pattern, or a meaſure lue,
By which his grace muſt mete the liues of other,
Turning paſt-euils to aduantages.

King. This ſeldome when the bee doth leaue her comb,
In the dead carion: who's here, Westmerland?

*Enter Westmerland.*

West. Health to my ſoueraigne, and new happineſſe
Added to that I am to deliver,
Prince Iohn your ſonne doth kiffe your graces hand.
Mowbray, the Bishop, Scroope, Haſtings, and so,
Are brought to the correction of your law:
There is not now a rebel ſword vnheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her olive, euery where,
The manner how this action hath bin borne,
Here at more leisure may your highneſſe reade,
With euery course in his particular.

King. O Westmerland, thou art a ſummer bird,
V Which euer in the haunch of winter sings,
The lifting vp of day: looke heres more newes,

*enter Harcon.*

*Hare.*

Henry the fourth.

Hare. From enemies, heauens keep your maiety,
And when they stand against you, may they fall
As thofe that I am come to tell you of:
The Earle Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolfe,
With a great power of English, and of Scots,
Are by the ſhrieue of Yorkſhire ouerthrowne,
The manner, and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large,

Ki. And wherfore should these good news make me ſicke?
Will Fortune neuer come with both hands full,
But wet her faire words ſtil in fouleſt termes?
She either giues a ſtomach, and no foode,
Such are the poore in health: or eſſe a ſeafe,
And takes away the ſtomach, ſuch are the rich
That haue abundance, and enjoy it not:
I should reioyce now at this happy newes,
And now my fight failes, and my braine is giddy,
O me, come neare me, now I am much ill.

Hum. Comfort your maiety.

Clar. O my royall father!

West. My ſoueraigne Lord, cheere vp your ſelfe, look vp,

War. Be patient princes, you do know these fits

Are with his highneſſe very ordinary.
Stand from him, giue him ayre, heel (straight be wel.)
Clar. No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs,
Th' inceſſant care and labour of his mind,
Hath wrought the Mure that should confine it in,
So thin that life looks through.

Hum. The people feare me, for they do obſerue
Vnfather d heires, and lothly births of nature,
The ſeafons change their manners, as the yeere
Had found ſome moneths a ſleepe, and leapt them ouer.

Clar. The riuer hath thrice flowed, no ebbe between,
And the old folks, (Times doting chronicles,)
Say, it did so a little time before

That our great grandſire Edward, ſicke and died.

H 3

War.

The second part of

WAR. Speake lower, princes, for the King recouers.

HUM. This apoplexi wil certaine be his end.

KING. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence,
Into some other chamber.

Let there be no noyſe made, my gentle friends,
Vnleſſe ſome dull and fauourable hand

Will whifper muſique to my weary ſpirite.

WAR. Call for the muſique in the other roome.

KING. Set me the crowne vpon my pillow here.

CLAR. His eie is hollow, and he changes much.

WAR. Lefſe noyſe, leſſe noyſe.

Enter Harry

PRINCE. Who law the duke of Clarence?

CLAR. I am here brother, full of heauineſſe.

PRINCE. How now, raine within doores, and none abroad?

How doth the King?

HUM. Exceeding ill.

PRINCE. Heard he the good newes yet? tell it him.

HUM. He vitred much vpon the hearing it,

PRINCE. If he be ſicke with ioy, heele recouer without phi-
ficke.

WAR. Not so much noyſe my Lords, ſweete prince, ſpeake
lowe, the King your father is diſpoſe to ſleepe.

CLA. Let vs withdraw into the other roome.

WAR. Wilt please your Grace to go along with vs?

PRINCE. No, I will fit and watch heere by the King.

Why doth the Crowne lie there vpon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?

O polifht perturbation! golden care!

That keepeſt the ports of Slumber open wide

To many a watchfull night, ſleepe with it nowt!

Yet not so found, and halfe so deeply ſweete,

As he whose brow (with homely biggen bound)

Snores out the watch of night. O maiestie!

When thou doſt pinch thy bearer, thou doſt ſit

Like a rich armour worne in heate of day,

That ſcald ſt with faſty (by his gates of breath)

There

Henry the fourth.

There lies a dowdy feather which flirs not,
Did he fuspire, that light and weightleſſe downe

Perſorce muſt moue my gracious lord my father:

This ſleepe is found indeede, this is a ſleepe,

That from this golden Rigoll hath diuorſt

So many English Kings, thy deaw from me,

Is teares and heauy forowes of the blood,

Which nature, loue, and filial tenderneſſe

Shall (O deare father) pay thee plenteouſly:

My due from thee is this imperiall Crowne,

Which as immediate from thy place and blood,

Deriues it ſelfe to me : loe where it ſits,

Which God ſhal guard, and put the worlds whole ſtrength

Into one giant arme, it ſhal not force,

This lineal honor from me, this from thee

Will I to mine leaue, as tis left to me.

exit.

Enter Warwicke, Glouceſter, Clarence.

KING. Warwicke, Glouceſter, Clarence,

CLAR. Doth the King call?

WAR. What would your Maiestie?

KING. Why did you leaue me here alone, my lords?

CLA. We left the prince my brother here my liege, who vn-
dertooke to fit and watch by you.

KING. The prince of Wales, where is he? let me see him : he
is not here.

WAR. This doore is open, he is gone this way.

HUM. He came not through the chamber where we ſtaide.

KING. Where is the Crowne? who took it from my pillow?

WAR. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.

KING. The Prince hath tane it hence. go feeke him out:
Is he so haſtie, that he doth ſuppoſe my ſleepe my death?
Finde him, my lord of Warwicke, chide him hither.

This part of his conioynes with my diſeafe,

And helps to end me: fee, ſonnes, what things you are,

How quickly nature falls into revolt,

When gold becomes her obiect?

For

The second part of

For this, the foolish ouer-carefull fathers
Have broke their sleepe with thoughts,
Their braines with care, their bones with industry:
For this they haue engroſſed and pild vp,
The cankred heapes of ſtrange atcheeued gold:
For this they haue beene thoughtfull to inueſt
Their ſonnes with arts and martuall exercifes,
When like the bee toling from euery flower,
Our thigh, packt with waxe our mouthes with hony,
We bring it to the hiue: and like the bees,
Are murdred for our paines, this bitter taſte
Yeelds his engroſſements to the ending father,
Now where is he that will not stay so long,
Till his friend ſickneſſe hands determin me. Enter Warwicke,
War. My Lord, I found the prince in the next roome,
Washing with kindly teares, his gentle cheekes,
Vith such a deepe demeanour in great ſorrow,
That tyranny, which neuer quaſt but bloud,
Vould by beholding him, haue waſt his knife,
Vith gentle eie-drops, hee is comming hither. Enter Harry.
King But wherefore did he take away the crowne?
Loe where he comes, come hither to me Harry,
Depart the chamber, leaue vs here alone. exeunt.
Harry I neuer thought to heare you ſpeake againe.
King Thy wifh was father (Harry,) to that thought
I stay too long by thee, I weary thee,
Doſt thou ſo hunger for mine empty chaire,
That thou wilt needes inueſt thee with my honors,
Before thy howre be ripe! O foolish youth,
Thou ſeeſt the greatneſſe that will ouerwelme thee,
Stay but a little, for my clowd of dignity
Is held from falling with ſo weake a wind,
That it will quickly drop: my day is dim,
Thou haſt ſtolne that, which after some ſew houres,
Vere thine, without offence, and at my death,
Thou haſt ſeald vp my expectation,

Thy

Henry the fourth.

Thy life did manifeſt thou lou'd me not,
And thou wilt haue me die, afflurde of it,
Thou huidt a thouſand daggers in thy thoughts,
Vhom thou haſt whetted on thy ſtony heart,
To ſtab at hale an hower of my life.
VWhat, canſt thou not forbeare me hale an hower?
Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy ſelfe,
And bid the mery bells ring to thine eare,
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead:
Let all the teares that should bedew my hearſe
Be drops of Balme, to ſanctiſe thy head,
Only compound me with forgotten duſt.
Gie that which gaue thee life, vnto the wormes,
Plucke downe my officers, breake my decrees,
For now a time is come to mocke at Forne:
Harry the ſift is crowd, vp vanitze,
Downe royall ſtate, all you ſage counſailers, hence,
And to the English Court afflemble now
From euery region, apes of idlenſſe:
Now neighbour confines, purge you of your ſcumme
Haue you a ruffin that will ſweare, drinke, daunce,
Reuell the night rob, murder, and commit
The oldest finnes, the neweſt kind of waies?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more.
England ſhal double gild his trebble gilt,
England ſhall giue him office honour, mighte:
For the ſift Harry, from curbd licence, plucks
The muffel of reſtraint, and the wild dogge
Shal ſleſh his tooth on euery innocent.
O my poore kingdomeſſicke with ciuill blowes:
VWhen that my care could not withhold thy riots,
VWhat wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
O thou wilt be a wilderneſſe againe,
Peopled with woolues, thy old inhabitants.

Prince O pardon me, my liege, but for my teares,
The moſt impediments vnto my ſpeech,

I

I

The second part of

I had forestald this deere and deep rebuke,
Ere you with griefe had spoke,and I had heard
The course of it so far: there is your crowne:
And he that weares the crowne immortally,
I long gard it yours: if I affect it more,
Then as your honour, and as your renowne,
Let me no more from this obedience rife,
Vhich my most inward true and duteous spirit,
Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending,
God witnesse with me. When I here came in,
And found no course of breath within your maiely,
How cold it strooke my heart if I do faire,
O let me in my present wildneſſe die,
And neuer lue to ſhow th' incredible world,
The noble change that I haue purpoſed.
Comming to looke on you, thinking you dead,
And dead almost, my liege, to thinke you were,
I spake vnto this crowne as having ſence,
And thus vpbraided it: the care on thee depending,
Hath fed vpon the body of my father,
Therefore thou beſt of gold, art worſe then gold,
Other leſſe fine, in karrat more precious,
Prefering life in medicine potable:
But thou, moſt fine, moſt honourd, moſt renown'd,
Haſt eate thy bearer vp: thus my moſt royall liege,
Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To trie with it as with an enemy,
That had before my face murdered my father,
The quarrell of a true inheritour,
But if it did infect my bloud with ioy,
Or ſwell my thoughts to any straine of pride,
If any rebel or vaine ſpirit of mine,
Did with the leaſt affection of a welcome,
Gue entertainment to the might of it,
Let God for euer keepe it from my head,

And

Henry the fourth.

And make me as the poorest vaſſaile is,
That doth with aw and terror kneele to it.
King God put in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou mightſt win the more thy fathers loue,
Pleading so wily in excufe of it:
Come hither Harry, fit thou by my bed,
And heare (I thinke) the very lateſt countſaile
That euer I ſhal breathe. God knowes (my ſonne)
By what by-paths, and indirect crookt waies,
I met this crowne, and I my ſelfe know well,
How troubleſome it fate vpon my head:
To thee it ſhall deflect with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation,
For al the ſoyle of the atchieuement goes,
With me into the earth, it ſeemd in me,
But as an honor ſnatcht with boiftrous hand,
And I had many liuing to vypraide
My gaine of it, by their affiſtances,
Which daily grew to quarrell and to bloud ſhed,
Wounding ſuppoſed peace: all theſe bold ſeares
Thou ſeelt with perill I haue anſwer'd:
For all my raigne hath beene but as a Scene,
Acting that argument: and now my death
Changes the mood, for what in me was purchaſt,
Fals vpon thee in a more fairer ſort.
So thou the garland wearſt ſuccesſuall y,
Yet though thou ſtandſt more ſure then I could do,
Thou art not firme enough, ſince griefes are greene,
And all thy friends which thou muſt make thy friends,
Haue but their ſtings and teeth newly tane out:
By whoſe ſell working I was firſt aduaunſt,
And by whoſe power I well might lodge a ſeare
To be againe diſplaſe: which to auoyde,
I cut them off, and had a purpofe, now
To leade out manie to the Holy Land,
Left reſt, and lying ſtil, might make them looke,

12

Too

The second part of

Too neare vnto my state: therefore,my Harry,
Be it thy courfe to bufie giddie minde's
With forraine quarrells,that action hence borne out,
May waſte the memory of the former dayes.
More would I, but my lungs are waſted ſo,
That ſtrength of ſpeech is viterly denied me:
How I came by the crowne,O God forgive,
And grant it may with thee in true peace liue.
Prince You won it,wore it,kept it, gaue it me,
Then plaine and right muſt my poſſeſſon be,
Which I with more then with a common paine,
Gainſt all the world will rightfully maintaine: enter Lancashire.
King Looke,looke,here comes my John of Lancaſter.
Lanc. Health, peace, and happineſſe to my royall father,
King Thou bringſt me happineſſe and peace ſonne John,
But health (alacke) with youthfull wings is flowne
From this bare witherd trunke:vpon thy fight,
My worldly buſines makes a period:
Where is my lord of Warwick?
Prince My Lord of Warwicke.
King Doth any name particular belong
Vnto the lodging where I first did ſ wound?
War. Tis cald Ieruſalem, my noble Lord.
King Laud be to God,euen there my life muſt end.
It hath bin prophecide to me many yeares,
I ſhould not die,but in Ieruſalem,
Which vainely I ſuppofe the Holy Land:
But beare me to that chamber,there ile lie,
Enter Shallow,
In that Ieruſalem ſhall Harry die.
Falſtaffe, and Bardolſe
Shal. By cock and pie fir,you ſhal not away to night,what
Dany I lay?

Faſſt. You muſt excuſe me after Robert Shallow.

Shal. I will not excuſe you, you ſhall not be excuſe, ex-
cuſes ſhall not be admitted; there is no excuſe ſhall ſerue, you
ſhall not be excuſe: why Dany.

Dany Here fir.

Shal.

Henry the fourth.

Shal. Dany,Dany,Dany,Dany,let me ſee Dany,let me ſee
Dany, let me ſee, yea mary V William Cooke,bid him come
hither,ſir Iohn,you ſhal not be excuſed.

Dany Mary fir thus, those precepts can not be ſerued, and
againe fir, ſhal we ſow the hade land with wheate?

Shal. V With red wheat Dany, but for V William Cooke
are there no yong pigeons?

Dany Yes fir, here is now the Smiths note for ſhooing and
plow-yrons.

Shal. Let it be caſt and payed: fir Iohn,you ſhal not be ex-
cuſed.

Dany Now fir, a new lacke to the bucket muſt needes be
had:and fir, do you meane to ſlop any of V Williams wages,a-
bout the ſacke he loft at Hunkly Faire?

Shal. A ſhall anſwer it : ſome pigeons Dany, a couple of
ſhort legg'd hens, a ioynt of mutton, and any pretty little tinie
Kick-ſhawes,tell william Cooke.

Dany Doth the man of warre ſtay all night fir?

Shal. Yea Dany, I will vſe him well, a friend i'th court is
better then a penie in purſe:vſe his men wel Dany, for they are
arrant knaues,and will backbite.

Dany No worſe then they are back-bitten fir, for they haue
maruailes foule linnen.

Shal. V Vell conceited Dany, about thy buſineſſe Dany.

Dany I beſeech you fir to countenance V William Vifer
of Woncote againſt Clement Perkes a th hill.

Shal. There is many complaints Dany againſt that Vifer,
that Vifer is an arrant knaue on my knowledge.

Dany I graunt your worſhip that he is a knaue fir: but yet
God forbid fir, but a knaue ſhould haue ſome countenance at
his friends requeſt, an honest man fir is able to ſpeake for him-
ſelfe, when a knaue is not: I haue ſeru'de your worſhip truly fir
this eight yeares, and I cannot once, or twice in a quarter beare
out a knaue againſt an honest man, I haue little credit with your
worſhip: the knaue is mine honest friend fir, therefore I beſeech
you let him be countenaunſt.

I 3

Shal

The second part of

Shal. Go to I say, he shal haue no wrong, look about Dauy:
where are you fir Iohn? come, come, come, off with your boots,
give me your hand mafter Bardolfe.

Eard. I am glad to see your worship.

Shal. I thank thee with my heart kind mafter Bardolfe, and
welcome my tall fellow, come fir Iohn.

Falft. Ile follow you good maifter Robert Shallow : Bar-
dolfe, looke to our horles : if I were sawed into quantities, I
should make foure dozen of such berded hermites ſtaues as
maifter Shallow : it is a wonderfull thing to see the ſemblable
coherence of his mens ſpirits, and his, they, by obferuing him,
do beare themſelues like foolish Iuſtices : hee, by converſing
with them, is turned into a Iuſtice-like ſeruingman, their ſpirits
are ſo married in coniunction, with the participation of ſociety,
that they flocke together in conſent, like ſo many wild-geefe.
If I had a ſuite to mafter Shallow, I would humour his men
with the imputation, of beeing neere their maifter : if to his
men, I would curry with maifter Shallow, that no man could
better commaund his ſeruants. It is certaine, that eyther wife
bearing, or ignorant cariage is caught, as men take diſeafes one
of another : therefore let men take heede of their company, I
will deuife matter enough out of this Shallow, to keepe prince
Harry in continuall laughter, the wearing out of ſixe ſaſhions,
which is foure termes, or two actions, and a ſhal laugh without
interuallums . O it is much that a lie, with a flight oathe, and
a ieſt, with a ſad browe, will doe with a fellow that neuer had
the ach in his shoulders : O you ſhall fee him laugh til his face
be like a wet cloake ill laide vp.

Shal. Sir Iohn.

Falſt. I come maifter Shallow, I come mafter Shallow.

Enter Warwike, duke Humphrey, L. chiefe Iustice, Thomas
Clarence, Prince John Westmerland.

War. How now, my lord chiefe Iuſtice, whither away?

Iuſt. How doth the King?

War. Exceeding well, his cares are now all ended.

Iuſt. I hope not dead.

War.

Henry the fourth.

War. Hees walkt the way of nature,
And to our purpofes he liues no more.

Iuſt. I would his Maiestie had calld me with him:
The ſeruice that I truely did his life,
Hath left me open to all iniuries.

War. Indeeide I thinke the yong King loues you not.

Iuſt. I know he doth not, and do arme my ſelſe
To welcome the condition of the time,
Which cannot looke more hideouſly vpon me,
Than I haue drawne it in my fantafie.

Enter Iohn, Thomas, and Humphrey.

War. Heere come the heauy ilſue of dead Harry:
O that the liuing Harry had the temper
Of he, the worſt of theſe three gentlemant
How many Nobles then ſhould holde their places,
That muſt ſtrike ſake to ſpirites of vile ſort?

Iuſt. O God, I feare all will be ouer-turnd.

John. Good morrow cooſin Warwicke, good morrow.

Prin. ambo Good morrow cooſin.

John. We meete like men that had forgot to ſpeake.

War. We do remember, but our argument
Is all too heauy to admit much talke.

John. Well, peace be with him that hath made vs heauy.

Iuſt. Peace be with vs, left we be heauier.

Humph. O good my lord, you haue loft a friend indeede,
And I dare ſware you borrow not that face
Of feeming ſorrow, it is ſure your owne.

John. Though no man be aflurde what grace to finde,
You ſtand in coldeſt expeſtation,
I am the ſorier, would twere otherwife.

Cla. Well, you muſt now ſpeake fir Iohn Falſtaſſe faire,
Which ſwimmes againſt your ſtreame of quallitie.

Iuſt. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honor,
Led by th'impartiall conduct of my ſoule.
And neuer ſhall you fee that I will begge

A ragged and foreſtald remiſſion,

US

The second part of

If truth and vright innocencie faile me,
Ile to the King my maister that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.

War. Here comes the Prince.

Inest. Good morrow, and God faue your maieſtie.

Prince This new and gorgeous garment Maiety

Sits not so eafe on me, as you thinke:

Brothers, you mixt your fadneſſe with ſome ſeare,
This is the English, not the Turkish court,
Not Amurath an Amurath ſucceedes,

But Harry Harry: yet be fad, good brothers,

For by my faith it very well becomes you:

Sorrow ſo royally in you appears,

That I will deeply put the fashion on,
And weare it in my heart: why then be ſad,

But entertaine no more of it, good brothers,

Then a ioynt burden layd vpon vs all,

For me, by heauen (I bid you be aſſurde)

Ile be your father, and your brother too,

Let me but beare your loue, Ile beare your cares:

Yet weepe that Harries dead, and ſo will I,

But Harry liues, that ſhal conuert thofe teares

By number into howres of happineſſe.

Bro. We hope no otherwife from your maiety,

Prince You al looke strangely on me, and you moſt,

You are I thinke aſſurde. I loue you not.

Inest. I am aſſurde, if I be meaſurde rightely,

Your maiety hath no iuſt cauſe to hate me.

Prince No? how might a prince of my great hopes forget,

So great indignities you laid vpon me?

What, rate, rebuke, and roughly ſend to prifon,

Th' immediate heire of England? was this eafe?

May this be waſt in lethy and ſorgotten?

Inest. I then did vſe the perſon of your father,

The image of his power lay then in me,

And in the adminiftration of his law,

Enter the Prince
and Blunt

Whiles

Henry the fourth.

Whiles I was buſe for the common wealth,
Your Highneſſe plearſed to forget my place,

The maiety and power of law and iuſtice,

The image of the King whom I presented,

And strooke me in my very ſeate of iudgement,

Whereon, (as an offendor to your father.)

I gaue bold way to my authority,

And did commit you: if the deed were ill,

Be you contented, wearing now the garland,

To haue a ſonne fet your decrees at naught?

To plucke downe Iuſtice from your awful bench?

To trip the course of law, and blunt the ſword,

That guards the peace and ſafetie of your perſon?

Nay more, to ſpurne at your moſt royall image,

And mocke your workings in a ſecond body?

Question your royall thoughts, make the caſe yours,

Be now the father, and propoſe a ſonne,

Heare your owne dignity ſo much prophan'd,

See your moſt dreadfull lawes ſo loosely ſlighted,

Behold your ſelfe ſo by a ſonne diſdained:

And then imagine me taking your part,

And in your power ſoft ſilencing your ſonne,

After this cold confidence ſentence me,

And as you are a King, ſpeake in your ſtate,

What I haue done that misbecame my place,

My perſon, or my lieges ſoueraigntie.

Prince You are right Iuſtice, and you weigh this well,
Therefore still beare the Ballance and the Sword,

And I do wifh your honors may encreaſe,

Til you do lieu to ſee a ſonne of mine

Offend you, and obey you as I did:

So ſhall I lieu to ſpeake my fathers words,

Happie am I that haue a man ſo bold,

That dares do iuſtice on my proper ſonne:

And not leſſe happie, hauing ſuch a ſonne,

That would deliuer vp his greatneſſe ſo,

K

Into

The second part of

Into the hands of Juſtice you did commit me:
For which I do commit into your hand,
Th'vnſtained ſword that you haue vſe to beare,
With this remembrance, that you vſe the ſame
With the like bold, juſt, and impartial ſpirit,
As you haue done gainſt me: there is my hand,
You ſhall be as a father to my youth,
My voice ſhall found as you do prompt mine care,
And I wil ſtoope and humble my intents,
To your well praeſizde wife directions.
And princes all, beleeue me I beſeech you,
My father is gone wild into his graue:
For in his toomb lie my affections,
And with his ſpirites ſadly I ſuruie,
To mocke the expeſation of the world,
To fruſtrate prophecies, and to race out,
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me downe
After my ſeeming, the tide of bloud in me
Hath proudeſly flowd in vanitie till now:
Now doth it turne, and ebbe backe to the sea,
Where it ſhall mingle with the ſtate of flouds,
And flow henceforth in formall maiſeſtie.
Now call we our high court of parliament,
And let vs chufe ſuch limbs of noble counſaile,
That the great bodie of our ſtate may goe,
In equall ranke with the beſt gouernd Nation,
That warre; or peace, or both at once, may be,
As things acquainted and familiar to vs,
In which you father ſhall haue ſormoſt hand:
Our coronation done, we wil accite,
(As I before remembred) all our ſtate,
And (God configning to my good intents,)
No prince nor peere ſhall haue juſt cauſe to ſay,
God ſhorten Harries happy life one day.

Enter fir John, Shallow, Scilens, Dauy, Bardolfe, page.

Shal. Nav you ſhall fee my orchard, where, in an airbour we
will

Henry the fourth.

will eate a laſt yeeres pippen of mine owne graffing, with a
diſh of carrawaies and ſo forth: come coofin Scilens, and then
to bed.

Falſt. Fore God you haue here goodly dwelling, and rich.

Shal. Barraine, barraine, barraine, beggars all, beggars all fir
John, mary good ayre: ſpread Dauy, ſpread Dauy, well ſaide
Dauy.

Fal. This Dauy ſerues you for good vſes, hee is your ſer-
uing-man, and your husband.

Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet fir
John : by the mas I haue drunke too much ſacke at ſupper : a
good varlet: now ſit downe, now ſit downe, come coſin.

Scilens A ſirra quoth a, we ſhall do nothing but eate and
make good cheere, and praeſe God for the merry yeere, when
ſleſh is cheape and females dear, and luſtly laddes roame here
and there ſo merely, and euer among ſo merely.

fir John Theres a merry heart, good M. Silens, ile giue you a
health for that anon.

Shal. Giue maſter Bardolſe ſome wine, Dauy.

Dauy. Sweet fir ſit, ile be with you anon, moſt sweet fir ſit,
maſter Page, good maſter Page ſit: proſace, what you want in
meate, weele haue in drink, but you muſt beare, the heart's al.

Shal. Be mery maſter Bardolſe, and my litle ſouldier there,
be mery.

Scilens Be mery, be mery, my wife has all, for women are
ſhowres both ſhort and tall, tis mery in hal when beards wags
all, and welcome mery ſhrouetide, be mery, be mery.

Falſt. I did not thinke maſter Scilens had bin a man of this
mettall.

Scilens Who I? I haue beene mery twice and once ere now,
Enter Dauy.

Dauy. Theres a diſh of Lether-coates for you.

Shal. Dauy?

Dauy. Your worſhip: Ile be with you ſtraight, a cup of wine
fir.

Scilens A cup of wine that's briske and fine, and drinke vnto

the

K 2

The second part of

the leman mine, and a mery heart lies long a.

Faſſt. Well faid maſter Scilens.

Scilens And we shall be mery, now comes in the SWEETE a' th
night.

Faſſ. Health and long life to you maſter Scilens.

Scilens Fill the cuppe, and let it come, ile pledge you a mile
too th bottome.

Shal. Honest Bardolfe, welcome, if thou wantſt any thing,
and wilt not call, beſhrew thy heart, welcome my little tiny
theeſe, and welcome indeede too, Ile drink to maſter Bardolſe,
and to all the cabileros about London.

Dauy I hope to see London once ere I die.

Bar. And I might ſee you there Dauy!

Shal. By the mas youle crack a quarte together, ha will you
not maſter Bardolſe?

Bar. Yea fir, in a potte pot.

Sha. By God's liggens I thanke thee, the knaue will ſticke by
thee, I can aſſure thee that a wil not out, a tis true breed!

Bar. And ile ſtick by him fir.

One knockes at door.

Sha. Why there ſpoke a King: lacke nothing, be mery,
looke who's at doore there ho, who knockes?

Faſſt. Why now you haue done me right.

Silens Do me right, and dub me Knight, ſamingo: iſt not ſo?

Faſſt. Tis so.

Silens Iſt so, why then ſay an olde man can do ſomewhat.

Dauy And it pleafe your worship, there's one Pistoł come
from the court with newes.

enter Pistoł.

Faſſt. From the Court let him come in, how now Pistoł?

Pistoł Sir Iohn, God ſaue you.

Faſſt. What wind blew you hither Pistoł?

Pistoł Not the ill winde which blowes no man to good:
sweete Knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this
Realme.

Silens Birlady I think a be, but goodman Puffe of Barſon.

Pisſo Puffe? Puffe iſt thy teeth, moſt recreant coward, bafe,
ſt Iohn, I am thy Pistoł and thy frend, and helter skelter, haue

I

Henry the fourth.

I rode to thee, and tidings I do bring, and luckie ioyes, and gol-
den times, and happy news of price.

Iohn I pray thee now deliuer them like a man of this
world.

Pistoł A footre for the world and worldlings bafe, I ſpeake
of Aſſrica and golden ioyes.

Iohn O bafe Aſſirian Knight! what is thy newes? let King
Couetua know the truth thereof.

Scilens And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and Iohn.

Pistoł Shal dunghill curs confront the Helicons ? and ſhall
good newes be baffled? then Pistoł lay thy head in Furies lap.

Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

Pistoł Why then Iameut therefore.

Shal. Giue me pardon fir, iſ fir you come with newes from
the court, I take it there's but two wates, either to vtter them, or
conceale them, I am fir vnder the King in some authoritie.

Pistoł Vnder which King, Befonian? ſpeake, or die.

Shal. Vnder King Harry.

Pistoł Harry the fourth, or firſt?

Shal. Harry the fourth.

Pistoł A fowtre for thine office: fir Iohn, thy tender lambkin
now is King: Harry the fifths the man: I ſpeake the truth: when
Pistoł lies, do this, and fig me, like the bragging Spaniard.

Faſſt. What is the old King dead?

Pistoł As nayle in doore, the things I ſpeake are iuſt.

Fal. Away Bardolſe, faddle my horse, M. Robert Shallow,
choose what office thou wilt in the land, tis thine: Pistoł, I will
double charge thee with dignities.

Bard. O joyful day! I would not take a Knight for my for-
tune.

Pistoł What? I do bring good newes.

Falſt. Carry maſter Scilens to bed: maſter Shallow, my
lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am fortunes ſteward, get on
thy boots, weel ride al night; for sweet Pistoł, away Bardolſe, com
Pistoł, ytter more to me, and withall, deuile ſomething to doe
thy ſelſe good, boote, boote maſter Shallow, I know the yong

King

K 3

The second part of

King is fique for me: let vs take any mans horves, the lawes of
England are at my commandement,bleffed are they that haue
bin my friends,and woe to my Lord chiefe Iuſtice.

Pist. Let vultures vile ſeize on his lungs alſo: where is the
life that late I led, ſay they, why here it is, welcome theſe ple-
ſant dayes.
exit.

Enter Sincklo and three or ſoure officers.

Hoſt. No, thou arrant knaue, I would to God that I might
die, that I might haue thee hang'd, thou haſt drawn my ſhoul-
der out of ioynt.

Sincklo. The Conſtables haue deliuered her ouer to mee,
and ſhee thal haue whipping cheere I warrant her, there hath
beene a man or two kild about her.

Whoore Nut-hooke, Nut-hooke, you lie, come on, Ile tell thee what, thou damnd tripe viſagde raſcall, and the child I go with, do miſcarry, thou wert better thou hadſt ſtrook thy mother, thou paper-facde villaine.

Hoſt. O the Lord, that fir John were come! I would make this a bloody day to some body : but I pray God the fruits of her wombe miſcarry.

Sincklo. If it doe, you ſhall haue a dozzen of cuſhions
againe, you haue but eleuen nowe: come, I charge you both
goe with mee, for the man is dead that you and Pistoł beat a-
mongſt you.

Whoore Ile tell you what, you thin man in a cenſor, I will haue you as foundly ſwingde for this, you blew bottle rogue, you filthy famiſht correctioner, if you be not ſwingde, Ile forſweare halſe kirtles.

Sinck. Come, come, you ſhee-Knight-arrant, come.

Hoſt. O God, that right should thus ouercom might! wel,
of ſufferance comes eafe.

Whoore Come you rogue, come bring me to a iuſtice.

Hoſt. I come, you ſtarude blood-hound.

Whoore Goodman death, goodman bones.

Hoſt. Thou Atomy, thou.

Whoore Come you thinne thing, come you raſcall.

Sinckle

Henry the fourth.

Sinck. Very well.

Enter ſtimers of rufhes.

1 More rufhes, more rufhes.

2 The trumpets haue founded twice.

3 T will be two a clocke ere they come from the coronati-
on, diſpatch, diſpatch,

Trumpets found, and the King, and his traine paffe ouer the
ſlage : after them enter Falſaffe, Shallow, Pistoł,
Bardolſe, and the Boy.

Falſt. Stand heere by me maſter Shallow, I will make the King doe you grace, I will leere vpon him as a comes by, and do but marke the countenaunce that he will giue me.

Pist. God bleſſe thy lungs good Knight.

Falſt. Come heere Pistoł, and behind mee. O if I had had time to haue made new liueries: I would haue beſtowed the thouſand pound I borrowed of you, but tis no matter, this poore ſhew doth better, this doth inferre the zeale I had to ſee him.

Pist. It doth ſo.

Falſt. It ſhewes my earneſtneſſe of affection.

Pist. It doth ſo.

Falſt. My deuotion,

Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth.

Fal. As it were to ride day & night, and not to deliberate,
not to remember, not to haue pacience to ſhift me.

Shal. It is beſt certain: but to ſtand ſtained with trauaile, and
ſweating with desire to ſee him, thinking of nothing els, putting
all affaires eſſe in obliuion, as if there were nothing els to bee
done, but to ſee him.

Pist. Tis ſemper idem, for, obſque hoc nihil eſt, tis in every part.

Shal. Tis ſo indeede.

Pist. My Knight, I will inflame thy noble liuer, and make
thee rage, thy Dol, and Helen of thy noble thoughts, is in bafe
durance, and contagious prifon, halde thither by moſt mecha-
nica, and durtie hand: rowze vp reuenge from Ebon den, with
fell

## The second part of

fell Ake toes snake, for Doll is in: Piftoll speakes nought but
truth.

Falt. I will deliuer her.

Pist. There roared the lea, and trumpet Clangor sounds.

Enter the King and his traine.

Falt. God faue thy grace King Hall, my royall Hall.

Pist. The heauens thee gard and keep, most royal impe of
fame.

Falt. God faue thee, my sweet boy.

King. My Lord chiefe iustice, speake to that vaine man.

Falt. Haue you your wits? know you what tis you speake?

Falt. My King, my Ioue, I speake to thee, my heart.

King. I know thee not old man, fall to thy priaiers,
How ill white heires becomes a foole and iefter,
I haue long dreamt of such a kind of man,

So furfet-fweld, so old, and so prophane:

But being awak, I do despise my dreame,
Make leffe thy body (hence) and more thy grace,
Leaue gourmandizing, know the graue doth gape

For thee, thrice wider then for other men,

Reply not to me with a foole-borne ieft,

Prefume not that I am the thing I was,

For God doth know, so shall the world perceiue,
That I haue turnd away my former selfe,

So will I thofe that kept me company:

When thou doft heare I am as I haue bin,
Approch me, and thou shall be as thou waſt,

The tutor and the feeder of my riots:

Till then I banish thee, on paine of death,
As I haue done the rest of my misleaders,

Not to come neare our person by ten mile:

For competence of life, I wil allow you,

That lacke of meanes enforce you not to euills,
And as we heare you do reforme your selues,

We will according to your strengths and qualities,

Giue you aduauncement. Be it your charge, my lord,

To

## Henry the fourth.

To see performd the tenure of my word: fet on.

John. Master Shallow I ow you a thousand pound.

Shal. Yea, Mary fir Iohn, which I befeech you to let me haue
home with me.

John. That can hardly be, master, Shallow do not you grieue
at this, I shall be sent for in private to him, looke you, hee must
lie me thus to the world: feare not your aduauncements, I will
be the man yet that shall make you great.

Shal. I cannot perceiue how, vnleſſe you give me your
dublet, and ſtuffe me out with ſtraw: I beſeech you good fir
Iohn let me haue ſiue hundred of my thousand.

John. Sir I will be as good as my worde, this that you heard
was but a collour.

Shall. A collor that I feare you will die in fir Iohn.

John. Feare no colours, go with me to dinner:

Come lieſtenant Piftoll, come Bardolſe,

I ſhall be ſent for ſoone at night.

Enter Justice

and prince Iohn

Iustice Go cary fir Iohn Falltalfe to the Fleet,

Take all his company along with him.

Fat. My lord, my lord.

Iuſt. I cannot now ſpeake, I will heare you ſoone, take them
away. execute.

Pist. Si fortunare tormenta ſpero contenta.

John. I like this faire proceeding of the Kings,
He hath intent his wonted followers

Shall all be very well prouided for,
But all are banisht till their conuerſations

Appeare more wife and modeſt to the worlde.

Iuſt. And so they are.

John. The King hath cald his parlament my lord.

Iuſt. He hath.

John. I will lay ods, that ere this yeere expire,
We beare our civil ſwords and native fier,

As farre as France, I heard a bird ſo ſing,

Whose muſique, to my thinking, pleafed the King:

Come, will you hence?

L

Pist

The second part of

Epilogue.

First my feare then my curſie, laſt my ſpeech.
My ſteare, is your diſpleasure, my curly, my duty, & my ſpeech,
to beg your pardons: if you looke for a good ſpeech now, you
vndo me, for what I haue to, ſay is of mine owne making, and
what indeed (I should ſay) wil (I doubt) proue mine own mar-
ring: but to the purpose, and ſo to the venture. Be it knowne to
you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the end of a diſplea-
ſing play, to pray your patience for it, and to promife you a bet-
ter: I meant indeed to pay you with this, which if like an il ven-
ture it come vnluckily home, I breake, and you my gentle cre-
ditors loofe, here I promiſe you I would be, and here I com-
mit my body to your mercies, bate me ſome, and I will pay you
ſome, and (as moſt debtors do) promife you infinitely: and so I
kneele downe before you; but indeed, to pray for the Queene.

If my tongue cannot intreat you to acquit mee, will you
commaund me to vſe my legges? And yet that were but light
payment, to daunce out of your debt, but a good confi-
ence will make any poſſible fatiſaction, and so woulde I: all
the Gentlem women heere haue forgiven me, if the Gentlemen
will not, then the Gentlemen doe not agree with the Gentle-
women, which was neuer feene in such an aſſembly.

One word more I beſeech you, if you bee not too much
cloyd with fatte meate, our humble Author will continue the
ſtorie, with fir Iolin in it, and make you merry with faire Ka-
tharine of Fraunce, where (for any thing I knowe) Fallhaffe
ſhall die of a sweat, vnlleſſe already a be killd with your harde
opinions; for Olde caſtle died Martyre, and this is not the
man : my tongue is weary, when my legges are too, I will bid
you, good night.

FINIS.