The life and death of Richard the second.

33

What would you haue me doe? I am a Subie<sup>ct</sup>,
And challenge Law : Attorneyes are deny'd me;
And therefore personally I lay my claime

To my Inheritance of free Discent.

North. The Noble Duke hath been too much abus'd,
Reff. It stands your Grace vpon, to doe him right.
Wilke. Bafe men by his endowments are made great.

Tork. My Lords of England, let me tell you this,
I haue had feeling of my Cofens Wrongs,
And labour'd all I could to doe him right:
But in this kind, to come in brauing Armes,
Be his owne Caruer, and cut out his way,
To find out Right with Wrongs, it may not be ;
And you that doe abett him in this kind,
Cherish Rebellion, and are Rebels all.

North. The Noble Duke hath fworne his comming is
But for his owne; and for the right of that,
Wee all haue strongly fworne to giue him ayd,
And let him neu'r fee Ioy, that breakes that Oath.

Tork. Well, well, I see the influence of these Armes,
I cannot mend it, I muft needs Confeſſe,
Because my power is weake, and all ill left :

But if I could, by him that gaue me life,
I would attach you all, and make you floope
Vnto the Soueraigne Mercy of the King.

But since I cannot, be it knowne to you,
I doe remaine as Neuter. So fare you well,
Valeſſe you please to enter in the Castle,
And there repofe you for this Night.

Bull. An offer Vnckle, that wee will accept :
But wee muſt winne your Grace to goe with vs
To Briftow Castle, which they ſay is held
By Buſhie, Bagor, and their Complices,
The Caterpillers of the Commonwealth,
Which I haue fworne to weed, and plucke away.

Tork. It may be I will go with you: but yet Ile pawſe,
For I am loth to breake our Countries Lawes :
Nor Friends, nor Foes, to me welcome you are,
Things paſt redreſſe, are now with me paſt care.
Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

### Enter Salisbury, and a Captaine.

Capt. My Lord of Salisbury, we haue ſtayd ten dayes,
And hardly kept our Countreymen together,
And yet we heare no tidings from the King ;
Therefore we will disperſe our ſelues: farewell.

Sal. Stay yet another day, thou truſtie Welchman,
The King repoſeth all his confidence in thee.

Capt. Tis thought the King is dead, we will not ſtay;
The Bay-trees in our Countrey all are wither'd,
And Meteors fright the fixed Starres of Heauen;
The pale-fac'd Moone looks bloody on the Earth,
And leane-look'd Prophets whifper fearefull change;
Rich men looke ſad, and Ruffians dance and leape,
The one in ſeare, to loose what they enioy,
The other to enjoy by Rage, and Warre:
These ſignes fore-run the death of Kings.

Farewell, our Countreymen are gone and fled,
As well asſur'd Richard their King is dead.

Exit.

Sal. Ah Richard, with eyes of heauie mind,
I fee thy Glory, like a shooting Starre,
Fall to the bafe Earth, from the Firmament :
Thy Sunne ſets weeping in the lowly Weſt,
Witneſſing Stormes to come, Woe, and Vnreſt :
Thy Friends are fled, to wait vpon thy Foes,
And croſſely to thy good, all fortune goes.
Exit.

## Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

### Enter Bullingbrooke, Yorke, Northumberland,
Rosſe, Percie, Willoughby, with Buſhie
and Greene Prisoners.

Bull. Bring forth theſe men:
Buſhie and Greene, I will not vex your ſoules,
(Since preſently your ſoules muſt part your bodies)
With too much vrging your pernicious liues,
For'twere no Charitie: yet to waſh your blood
From off my hands, here in the view of men,
I will vnfold ſome cauſes of your deaths.
You haue mis-led a Prince, a Royall King,
A happie Gentleman in Blood, and Lineaments,
By you vnhappied, and diſfigur'd cleane :
You haue in manner with your ſinfull houres
Made a Diuorce betwixt his Queene and him,
Broke the poffeſſion of a Royall Bed,
And ſtayn'd the beautitie of a faire Queenes Cheekes,
With teares drawn fro her eyes, with your ſoule wrongs.
My ſelfe a Prince, by fortune of my birth,
Neere to the King in blood, and neere in loue,
Till you did make him miſ-interpret me,
Hae ſloopt my neck vnder your iniuries,
And ſigh'd my English breath in forraine Clouds,
Eating the biter bread of baniſhment;
While you haue ſed vpon my Seignories,
Diſ-park'd my Parkes, and ſell'd my Forreſt Woods;
From mine owne Windowes torne my Household Coat,
Raz'd out my Impreſſe, leauing me no ſigne,
Saue mens opinions, and my liuing blood,
To ſhew the World I am a Gentleman.
This, and much more, much more then twice all this,
Condemnes you to the death: fee them deliuered ouer
To execution, and the hand of death.

Buſhie. More welcome is the ſtoake of death to me,
Then Bullingbrooke to England.
Greene. My comfort is, that Heauen will take our ſoules,
And plague Iniſtice with the paines of Hell.

Bull. My Lord Northumberland, fee them disſpatch'd:
Vnckle, you ſay the Queene is at your Houſe,
For Heauens ſake fairly let her be entreated,
Tell her I ſend to her my kind commends;
Take ſpeciall care my Greetings be deliuer'd.

Tork. A Gentleman of mine I haue disſpatch'd
With Letters of your loue, to her at large.

Bull. Thanks gentle Vnckle: come Lords away,
To fight with Glendoure, and his Complices;
A while to worke, and after holliday.

Exeunt.

Scena

## Scena Secunda.

Drums: Flourish, and Colonrs.

Enter Richard, Aumerle, Carlile, and Souldiers.

**Rich.** Barkloughly Castle call you this at hand?
**Au.** Yea, my Lord; how brooks your Grace the ayre,
After your late toffing on the breaking Seas?

**Rich.** Needs must I like it well: I weepe for joy
To stand vpon my Kingdome once againe.
Deere Earth, I doe salute thee with my hand,
Though Rebels wound thee with their Horſes hoofes:
As a long parted Mother with her Child,
Playes fondly with her teares, and ſmiles in meeting;
So weeping, smiling, greet I thee my Earth,
And doe thee favor with my Royall hands.
Feed not thy Soueraignes Foe, my gentle Earth,
Nor with thy Sweetes, comfort his rauenous ſence:
But let thy Spiders, that fuck vp thy Venome,
And heauie-gated Toades lye in their way,
Doing annoyance to the trecherous ſeete,
Which with vurping steps doe trample thee.
Yeeld ſtinging Nettles to mine Enemies;
And when they from thy Boſome pluck a Flower,
Guard it I prethee with a lurking Adder,
Whose double tongue may with a mortall touch
Throw death vpon thy Soueraignes Enemies.
Mock not my ſenceleſſe Coniuration, Lords;
This Earth ſhall haue a feeling, and these ſtones
Proue armed Souldiers, ere her Native King
Shall falter vnder foule Rebellious Armes.

**Car.** Feare not my Lord, that Power that made you King
Hath power to keepe you King, in ſpight of all.

**Aum.** He meanes, my Lord, that we are too remiffe,
Whileſt *Bullingbrooke* through our ſecuritie,
Growes ſtrong and great, in ſubſtance and in friends.

**Rich.** Discomfortable Cousin, knoweſt thou not,
That when the searching Eye of Heauen is hid
Behind the Globe, that lights the lower World,
Then Theeues and Robbers raunge abroad vnſeene,
In Murthers and in Out-rage bloody here:
But when from vnder this Terreſtriall Ball
He fires the prowd tops of the Eafterne Pines,
And darts his Lightning through eu'ry guiltie hole,
Then Murthers, Treaſons, and detefted finnes
(The Cloake of Night being pluckt from off their backs)
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themſelues.

So when this Theeſe, this Traytor *Bullingbrooke*,
Who all this while hath reuell'd in the Night,
Shall fee vs riling in our Thronē, the Eaſt,
His Treaſons will fit bluſhing in his ſace,
Not able to endure the fight of Day;
But ſelfe-affrighted, tremble at his finne,
Not all the Water in the rough rude Sea
Can wash the Balme from an anoynted King;
The breath of worldly men cannot depofe
The Deputie elected by the Lord:

For euery man that *Bullingbrooke* hath preſt,
To lift shrewd Steele againſt our Golden Crowne,
Heauen for his Richard hath in heauenly pay

**A glorious Angell**: then if Angels fight,
Weake men muſt fall, for Heauen ſtill guards the right,
*Enter Salubury*.

**Welcome my Lord**, how farre off I yes your Power?
**Salib.** Nor neere, nor farther off, my gracious Lord,
Then this weake armè; diſcomfort guides my tongue,
And bids me ſpeake of nothing but deſpair:
One day too late, I ſeare (my Noble Lord)

Hath clouded all thy happie dayes on Earth:
Oh call backe Yesternay, bid Time returne,
And thou ſhalt haue twelue thouſand fighting men:
To day, to day, vnhappie day too late
Orethrowes thy Ioyes, Friends, Fortune, and thy State;
For all the Welchmen hearing thou wert dead,
Are gone to *Bullingbrooke*, diſperſt, and fled.

**Aum.** Comfort my Liege, why lookes your Grace ſo pale?

**Rich.** But now the blood of twentie thouſand men
Did triumph in my face, and they are fled,
And till ſo much blood thither come againe,
Hae I not reaſon to looke pale, and dead?
All Soules that will be ſafe, flye from my ſide,
For Time hath fet a blot vpon my pride,

**Aum.** Comfort my Liege, remember who you are.

**Rich.** I had forgot my ſelfe. Am I not King?
Awake thou fluggard Maieſtie, thou ſleepeſt:
Is not the Kings Name fortie thouſand Names?
Arme, armè my Name: a p[ro]nie ſubieſt strikes
At thy great glory. Looke not to the ground,
Ye Fauorites of a King: are wee not high?
High be our thoughts: I know my Vnkle Yorks
Hath Power enough to ſerue our turne,

But who comes here?

*Enter Scroope.*

**Scroope.** More health and hap[pi]neſſe betide my Liege,
Then can my care-tun'd tongue deliuer him.

**Rich.** Mine care is open, and my heart prepa'r'd:
The worſt is worldly loffe, thou canſt vnfold:
Say, Is my Kingdome loff? why'twas my Care:
And what loffe is it to be rid of Care?
Striues *Bullingbrooke* to be as Great as wee?
Greater he ſhall not be: If hee ſerue God,
Wee'l ſerue him too, and be his Fellow ſo,
Reuelt our Subieſts? That we cannot mend,
They breake their Faith to God, as well as vs:
Cry Woe, Deſtruction, Ruine, Loſſe, Decay,
The worſt is Death, and Death will haue his day.

**Scroope.** Glad am I, that your Highneſſe is ſo arm'd
To beare the tidings of Calamitie.
Like an vnſeaſonable ſtorme day,
Which make the Silver Riuers drowne their Shores,
As if the World were all diſſolu'd to teares:
So high, aboue his Limits, ſwells the Rage
Of *Bullingbrooke*, couering your ſeaſefull Land
With hard bright Steele, and hearts harder then Steele:
White Beares haue arm'd their thin and haireſſe Scalps
A gainſt thy Maieſtie, and Boyes with Womens Voyces,
Striue to ſpeake bigge, and clap their female iоіns
In ſtiffe vnſwieldie Armes: againſt thy Crowne
Thy very Beadſ-men learne to bend their Bowes
Of double tarall Eugh: againſt thy State
Yea Diftaſſe - Women manage ruſtie Bills:
A gainſt thy Seat both young and old rebel,
And all goes worſe then I haue power to tell.

**Rich.** Too well, too well thou tell't a Tale ſo ill.
Where is the Earle of Wilthire? where is *Bager*?
What is become of *Buhie*? where is *Greene*?

35

That they haue let the dangerous Enemie
Measure our Confines with such peacefull steps?
If we preuaile, their heads shall pay for it.
I warrant they haue made peace with *Bullingbrooke*,
*Scroope*. Peace haue they made with him indecide (my
Lord.)

*Rich.* Oh Villains, Vipers, damn'd without redemption,
Dogges, easily woon to fawne on any man,
Snakes in my heart blood warm'd, that fting my heart,
Three judaifies, each one thrice worfe then *Indas*,
Would they make peace? terrible Hell make warre
Upon their spotted Soules for this Offence.
*Scroope.* Sweet Loue (I fee) changing his propertie,
Turnes to the fowrest, and moft deadly hate:
Againe vincurfe their Soules; their peace is made
With Heads, and not with Hands: thofe whom you curfe
Have felt the worft of Deaths destroying hand,
And ye full low, grau'd in the hollow ground.
*Rich.* Is *Bullie*, *Greene*, and the Earle of Wiltshire

dead?
*Scroope.* Yea, all of them at Briftowr loft their heads.
*Rich.* Where is the Duke my Father with his Power?
No matter where; of comfort no man speake:
Let's talke of Graues, of Wormes, and Epitaphs,
Make Duft our Paper, and with Raynie eyes
Write Sorrow on the Bofome of the Earth.
Let's chufe Executors, and talke of Wills:
And yet not fo; for what can we bequeath,
Saue our depofed bodies to the ground?
Our Lands, our Liues, and all are *Bullingbrookes*,
And nothing can we call our owne, but Death,
And that fmall Modell of the barren Earth,
Which ferues as Pafte, and Couer to our Bones:
For Heauens fake let vs fit vpon the ground,
And tell fad flories of the death of Kings:
How fome haue been depos'd, fome flaine in warre,
Some haunted by the Ghofts they haue depos'd,
Some poyfon'd by their Wiues, fome fleeping kill'd,
All murther'd. For within the hollow Crowne
That rounds the mortall Temples of a King,
Keeps Death his Court, and there the Antique fits
Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pompe,
Allowing him a breath, a little Scene,
To Monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks,
Infusing him with felfe and vaine conceit,
As if this Flesh, which walls about our Life,
Were Braffe impregnable: and humor'd thus,
Comes at the laft, and with a little Pinne
Bores through his Castle Walls, and farwell King,
Couer your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With Solemne Reuerence: throw away Refpect,
Tradition, Forme, and Ceremonious dutie,
For you haue but miftooke me all this while:
I line with Bread like you, feele Want,
Tafe Griefe, need Friends: ſubieſted thus,
How can you fay to me, I am a King?

*Rich.* Aum. My Father, where is my Sonne?
Let's talke of Graues, of Wormes, and Epitaphs,
Make Duft our Paper, and with Raynie eyes
Write Sorrow on the Bofome of the Earth.
Let's chufe Executors, and talke of Wills:
And yet not fo; for what can we bequeath,
Saue our depofed bodies to the ground?
Our Lands, our Liues, and all are *Bullingbrookes*,
And nothing can we call our owne, but Death,
And that fmall Modell of the barren Earth,
Which ferues as Pafte, and Couer to our Bones:
For Heauens fake let vs fit vpon the ground,
And tell fad flories of the death of Kings:
How fome haue been depos'd, fome flaine in warre,
Some haunted by the Ghofts they haue depos'd,
Some poyfon'd by their Wiues, fome fleeping kill'd,
All murther'd. For within the hollow Crowne
That rounds the mortall Temples of a King,
Keeps Death his Court, and there the Antique fits
Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pompe,
Allowing him a breath, a little Scene,
To Monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks,
Infusing him with felfe and vaine conceit,
As if this Flesh, which walls about our Life,
Were Braffe impregnable: and humor'd thus,
Comes at the laft, and with a little Pinne
Bores through his Castle Walls, and farwell King,
Couer your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With Solemne Reuerence: throw away Refpect,
Tradition, Forme, and Ceremonious dutie,
For you haue but miftooke me all this while:
I line with Bread like you, feele Want,
Tafe Griefe, need Friends: ſubieſted thus,
How can you fay to me, I am a King?

*Cer.* My Lord, wife men ne're wail'd their prefent woes,
But prefently preuent the wayes to wail:
To feare the Foe, ſince feare oppreſſeth ſtrength,
Gines in your weakeneſſe, ſtrength vnto your Foe;
Fere, and be flaine, no worſe can come to fight,
And fight and die, is death deſtroying death,
Where fearing, dying, payes death teruile breath.
*Rich.* Aum. My Father, hath a Power, enquire of him,
And leaue me to make a Body of a Limbe.
*Rich.* Thou chid'ft me well: proud *Bullingbrooke* I come

To change Blowes with thee, for our day of Doome:
This ague fit of feare is ouer-blown,
An eafe taske it is to winne our owne.

*Say Scroope, where* Ies our Vnckle with his Power?
Speake fweetly man, although thy lookes be lowre.

*Scroope.* Men judge by the complexion of the Skie
The state and inclination of the day;

So may you by my dull and heauie Eye:

My Tongue hath but a heauier Tale to ſay:

I play the Torturer, by ſmall and ſmall
To lengthen out the worſt, that muſt be ſpoken.

Your Vnckle *Yorke* is ioyn'd with *Bullingbrooke*,
And all your Northerne Caſtles yeelded vp,
And all your Southerne Gentlemen in Armes
Vpon his Faſtion.

*Rich.* Thou haſt ſaid enough,
Behrew thee Cousin, which didſt lead me forth
Of that ſweet way I was in, to deſpaire:
What ſay you now? What comfort haue we now?

By Heauen Ile hate him eueraſtingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.

Goe to Flint Caſtle, there I lea p away,

A King, Woes ſlaue, ſhall Kingly Woe obey:

That Power I haue, diſcharge, and let them goe

To eare the Land, that hath ſome hope to grow,

For I haue none. Let no man ſpeake againe
To alter this, for counſaile is but vaine.

*Rich.* Aum. My Liege, one word.

*Rich.* He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Ditchcharge my followers: let them hence away,

From Richards Night, to *Bullingbrookes* faire Day.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Tertia.

*Enter with Drum and Colours, Bullingbrooke, Yorke, Northumberland, Attendants.*

*Bull.* So that by this intelligence we leaue
The Welchmen are diſpers'd, and *Salisbury*
Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
With ſome few priuate friends, vpon this Coaſt.

*North.* The newes is very faire and good, my Lord,
Richard, not farre from hence, hath hid his head.

*Tork.* It would beſeeme the Lord Northumberland,
To ſay King *Richard*: alack the heauie day,
When ſuch a facred King ſhould hide his head.

*North.* Your Grace miſtakes: onely to be briefe,
Left I his Title out.

*Tork.* The time hath beene,
Would you haue beene ſo briefe with him, he would
Hauе beene ſo briefe with you, to ſhorten you,
For taking ſo the Head, your whole heads length.

*Bull.* Miftake not (Vnckle) farther then you ſhould.
*Tork.* Take not (good Cousin) farther then you ſhould.
Leaſt you miftake the Heauens are ore your head.

*Bull.* I know it (Vnckle) and oppoſe not my ſelfe
Againſt their will. But who comes here?

*Enter Percie.*

*Welcome Harry: what, will not this Caſtle yeeld?*

*Per.* The Caſtle royally is mann'd, my Lord,
Againſt thy entrance.

*Bull. Roy-*

["36", "The life and death of Richard the second.", "Bull. Royally? Why, it contains no King?\nPer. Yes (my good Lord)", "It doth containe a King: King Richard lyes\nWithin the limits of yond Lime and Stone,\nAnd with him, the Lord Anumerle, Lord Salisbury,\nSir Stephen Scroope, beides a Clergie man\nOf holy reuerence; who, I cannot learne.", "North. Oh, belike it is the Bishop of Carlile.", "Bull. Noble Lord,", "Goe to the rude Ribs of that ancient Castle,\nThrough Brazen Trumpet send the breath of Parle\nInto his ruin'd Eares, and thus deliuer :", "Henry Bullingbrooke vpon his knees doth kisse", "King Richards hand, and tends allegiance", "And true faith of heart to his Royall Perfon: hither come\nEuen at his feet, to lay my Armes and Power,\nProuided, that my Banilment repeal'd,", "And Lands reftor'd againe, be freely graunted :", "If nor, Ile vfe th'aduantage of my Power,", "And lay the Summers duft with showers of blood,\nRayn'd from the wounds of flaunder'd Englishmen;", "The which, how farre off from the mind of Bullingbrooke", "It is, such Crimson Tempeft should bedrench", "The fresh greene Lap of faire King Richards Land,", "My flooping dutie tenderly shall shew.", "Goe signifie as much, while here we march", "Vpon the Graffie Carpet of this Plaine:", "Let's march without the noyle of threatening Drum,", "That from this Castles tatter'd Battlements", "Our faire Appointments may be well perus'd.", "Me thinkes King Richard and my felfe should meet", "With no leffe terror then the Elements", "Of Fire and Water, when their thundring Imoake", "At meeting teares the cloudie Cheekes of Heauen :", "Be he the fire, Ile be the yeelding Water;", "The Rage be his, while on the Earth I raine", "My Waters on the Earth, and not on him.", "March on, and marke King Richard how he lookes.", "Parle without, and answere within: then a Flourish.", "Enter on the Walls, Richard, Carlile, Anumerle, Scroop,", "Salisbury.", "See, fee, King Richard doth himfelfe appeare", "As doth the blushing discontented Sunne,", "From out the fierie Portall of the East,", "When he perceiues the enuious Clouds are bent", "To dimme his glory, and to staine the tract", "Of his bright paflage to the Occident.", "Tork. Yet lookes he like a King: behold his Eye", "(As bright as is the Eagles) lightens forth", "Controlling Maieſtie: alack, alack, for woe,", "That any harme ſhould ftaine ſo faire a ſhew.", "Rich. Wee are amaz'd, and thus long haue we tood", "To watch the fearefull bending of thy knee,", "Because we thought our ſelfe thy lawfull King:", "And if we be, how dare thy ioynts forget", "To pay their awfull dutie to our prefence ?", "If we be not, ſhew vs the Hand of God,", "That hath diſinſ'd vs from our Stewardſhip,", "For well wee know, no Hand of Blood and Bone", "Can gripe the ſacred Handle of our Scepter,", "Voleſſe he doe prophane, ſteale, or vſurpe.", "And though you thinke, that all, as you haue done,", "Hauë torne their Soules, by turning them from vs,", "And we are barren, and bereft of Friends :", "Yet know, my Maſter, God Omnipotent,", "Is muſtring in his Clouds, on our behalſe,", "Armies of Peſtience, and they ſhall strike", "Your Children yet vnborne, and vnbegot,", "That lift your Vaſſall Hands againſt my Head,", "And threat the Glory of my precious Crowne.", "Tell Bullingbrooke, for yond me thinkes he is,", "That euery ſtride he makes vpon my Land,", "Is dangerous Treafon: He is come to ope", "The purple Teſtament of bleeding Warre;", "But ere the Crowne he lookes for, liue in peace,", "Ten thouſand bloody crownes of Mothers Sonnes", "Shall ill become the flower of Englands face,", "Change the complexion of her Maid-pale Peace", "To Scarlet Indignation, and bedew", "Her Pastors Graſſe with faithfull Englifh Blood.", "North. The King of Heauen forbid our Lord the King", "Should ſo with ciuill and vnciuill Armes", "Be rufh'd vpon: Thy thrice-noble Couſin,", "Harry Bullingbrooke, doth humbly kisse thy hand,", "And by the Honorable Tombe he ſweares,", "That stands vpon your Royall Grandſires Bones,", "And by the Royalties of both your Bloods,", "(Currents that spring from one moſt gracious Head)", "And by the buried Hand of Warlike Gaunt,", "And by the Worth and Honor of himſelfe,", "Comprifing all that may be ſworne, or faid,", "His comming hither hath no further ſcope,", "Then for his Lineall Royalties, and to begge", "Infranchifement immediate on his knees:", "Which on thy Royall partie graunted once,", "His glittering Armes he will commend to Ruſt,", "His barbed Steedes to Stables, and his heart", "To faithfull ſeruice of your Maieſtie.", "This ſweares he, as he is a Prince, is iuſt,", "And as I am a Gentleman, I credit him.", "Rich. Northumberland, lay thus: The King returns,", "His Noble Couſin is right welcome hither,", "And all the number of his faire demands", "Shall be accompliſh'd without contradiction:", "With all the gracious vtrerance thou haſt,", "Speake to his gentle hearing kind commends,", "We doe debate our ſelfe (Couſin) doe we not,", "To looke ſo poorly, and to ſpeake ſo faire ?", "Shall we call back Northumberland, and ſend", "Defiance to the Traytor, and ſo die?", "Aum. No, good my Lord, let's fight with gentle words.", "Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful Swords.", "Rich. Oh God, oh God, that ere this tongue of mine,", "That layd the Sentence of dread Banilment", "On yond proud man, should take it off againe", "With words of ſooth: Oh that I were as great", "As is my Grieſe, or leſſer then my Name,", "Or that I could forget what I haue beene,", "Or not remember what I muſt be now :", "Swell ſt thou proud heart? Ile giue thee ſcope to beat", "Since Foes haue ſcope to beat both thee and me.", "Aum. Northumberland comes backe from Bulling-\nbrooke.", "Rich. What muſt the King doe now? muſt he ſubmit?", "The King shall doe it: Muſt he be depos'd ?", "The King shall be contented: Muſt he ſloose", "The Name of King ? o'Gods Name let it goe.", "Ile giue my Iewels for a ſett of Beades,", "My gorgeous Pallace, for a Hermitage,", "My gay Apparrell, for an Almes-mans Gowne,", {"bbox": [661, 1335, 939, 1358], "category": "

["The Life and Death of Richard the Second.", "39", "My Subjeets, for a payre of carued Saints,\nAnd my large Kingdome, for a little Graue,\nAnd little little Graue, an obfure Graue.\nA little be buried in the Kings high-way,\nOr else be buried in the Kings high-way,\nSome way of common Trade, where Subjeets feet\nSome way of common Trade, where Subjeets feet\nMay howely trample on their Soueraignes Head:\nMay howely trample on their Soueraignes Head:\nFor on my heart they tread now, whileft I lie;\nFor on my heart they tread now, whileft I lie;\nFor on my head they lay not vpon my Head?\nAnd buried once, why not vpon my Head?\nAnd buried once, why not vpon my Head?\nAnd weep it (my tender-hearted Cousin)\nAnd weep it (my tender-hearted Cousin)\nA Summerlie, thou weep it (my tender-hearted Cousin)\nA Summerlie, thou weep it (my tender-hearted Cousin)\nThou makest foule Weather with deſpited Teares:\

38

Ser. What are they dead?
Gard. They are,
And *Bullingbrooke* hath feiz'd the waftefull King.
Oh, what pitty is it, that he had not so trim'd
Aad dreft his Land, as we this Garden, at time of yeare,
And wound the Barke, the skin of our Fruit-trees,
Leaft being ouer-proud with Sap and Blood,
With too much riches it confound it ſelfe?
Had he done so, to great and growing men,
They might haue liu'd to beare, and he to taſſe
Their fruits of dutie. Superfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughes may liue:
Had he done so, himſelfe had borne the Crowne,
Which wafte and idle houres, hath quite thrown downe.

Ser. What thinke you the King shall be depos'd?

Ser. What thinke you the King shall be depos'd?
Gard. Depreſſe he is already, and depos'd
'Tis doubted he will be. Letters came laſt night

To a deere Friend of the Duke of Yorkes,
That tell blacke tydings.

Qu. Oh I am preſſt to death through want of speaking:
Thou old Adams likeneſſe, ſet to drefſe this Garden:
How dares thy harſh rude tongue found this vnpleasing
What Eue? what Serpent hath luggeſted thee, (newes)
To make a ſecond fall of curſed man?
Why doſt thou ſay, King Richard is depos'd,
Darſt thou, thou little better thing then earth,
Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how
Cam'ſt thou by this ills-tydings? Speake thou wretch.

Gard. Pardon me Madam. Little ioy haue I
To breathe theſe newes; yet what I ſay, is true;
King Richard, he is in the mighty hold
Of *Bullingbrooke*, their Fortunes both are weigh'd :
In your Lords Scale, is nothing but himſelfe,
And ſome few Vanities, that make him light:
But in the Ballance of great *Bullingbrooke*,
Befides himſelfe, are all the English Pcceres,
And with that oddes he weighs King Richard downe.
Poffe you to London, and you'l finde it ſo,
I ſpeake no more, then euery one doth know.

Qu. Nimble miſchance, that art so light of ſoote,
Doth not thy Embaffage belong to me?
And am I laſt that knowes it? Oh thou think'st
To ſerue me laſt, that I may longeſt keepe
Thy ſorrow in my breaſt. Come Ladies goe,
To meet at London, Londons King in woe.
What was I borne to this: that my ſad looke,
Should grace the Triumph of great *Bullingbrooke*.
Gard'ner, for telling me this newes of woe.
I would the Plants thou graft'st, may neuer grow. Exit.
G Poore Queene, ſo that thy State might be no worſe,
I would my skill were ſubieſt to thy curſe:
Heere did ſhe drop a teare, heere in this place
Ile ſer a Banke of Rew, ſowre Herbe of Grace:
Rue, eu'n for ruth, heere ſhortly ſhall be ſeene,
In the remembrance of a Weeping Queene. Exit.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter as to the Parliament, *Bullingbrooke*, *Aumerle*, Northumb. land. Percie, *Fitz-Water*, *Surrey*, *Carlisle*, *Abbot of Westminſter*. Herauld, Officers, and *Bagot*.

*Bullingbrooke*. Call forth *Bagot*.

Now *Bagot*, freely ſpeake thy minde,
What thou doſt know of Noble Glouſters death:
Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd
The bloody Office of his Timeleſſe end.

Bag. Then ſet before my face, the Lord *Aumerle*.
Bul. *Colin*, stand forth, and looke upon that man.

Bag. My Lord *Aumerle*, I know your daring tongue.
Scornes to vnſay, what it hath once deliuer'd,
In that deadtime, when Glouſters death was plotted,
I heard you ſay. Is not my arme of length,
That reacheth from the reſtfull English Court
As farre as Callis, to my Vnkleſ head,
Among ſt much other talke, that very time,
I heard you ſay, that you had rather reſufe
The offer of an hundred thouſand Crownes,
Then *Bullingbrooke's* returne to England; adding withal
How bleſt this Land would be, in this your Colins death.

Aum. Princes, and Noble Lords:
What anſwer shall I make to this bafe man?
Shall I ſo much diſhonor my faire Starres,
On equall termes to giue him chafitement?
Either I muſt, or haue mine honor ſoyl'd
With th'Attaindor of his ſland'rous Lippes.
There is my Gage, the manuall Seale of death
That markes thee out for Hell. Thou Lyeſt,
And will maintaine what thou haſt ſaid, is falſe,
In thy heart blood, though being all too bafe
To ſtaine the temper of my Knightly ſword.

Bul. *Bagot* forbeare, thou ſhalt not take it ſyp.

Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the beſt

In all this preſence, that hath mou'd me ſo.

Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathize:
There is my Gage, *Aumerle*, in Gage to thine:
By that faire Sunne, that ſhewes me where thou ſtand'st,
I heard thee ſay (and hauntingly thou ſpak'st it)
That thou wert cauſe of Noble Glouſters death.
If thou denieſt it, twenty times thou Lyeſt,
And I will turne thy falſhood to thy hart,
Where it was forged with my Rapiers point.

Aum. Thou darſt not (Coward) lie to fee the day.

Fitz. Now by my Soule, I would it were this houre.

Aum. Fitzwater thou art damn'd to helſ for this.

Per. *Aumerle*, thou Lyeſt : his Honor is a strue
In this Appeale, as thou art all vnviuſt :
And that thou art ſo, there I throw my Gage
To proue it on thee, to th'extreameſt point
Of mortall breathing. Seize it, if thou darſt.

Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And neuer brandiſh more reuengefull Steele,
Ouer the glittering Helmet of my Foe.

Surrey. My Lord Fitz-water :
I do remember well, the very time
*Aumerle*, and you did talke.

Fitz. My Lord,

'Tis very true : You were in preſence then,
And you can wittneſſe with me, this is true.

Surrey. As falſe, by heauen,
As Heauen it ſelſe is true.

Fitz. Surrey, thou Lyeſt.

Surrey. Diſhonourable Boy ;

That Lye, shall lie ſo heauy on my Sword,
That it shall render Vengeance, and Reuenge.
Till thou the Lye-giuer, and that Lye, doe Lye
In earth as quiet, as thy Fathers Scull.

In proofe whereof, there is mine Honors pawne,
Engage it to the Triall, if thou darſt.

Fitz.

39

Fitz. How fondly do'st thou spurre a forward Horfe?
If I dare care, or drinke, or breathe, or lue,
I dare meete, *Surrey* in a Wilderneſſe,
And fit vpon him, whilet I say he Lyes,
And Lyes, and Lyes : there is my Bond of Faith,
And Lyes, and Lyes : to ye thee to my ftrong Correction.
To ye thee to thrive in this new World,
As I intend to thrive in this new World,
An *Annerle* is guiltie of my true Appeal.
An *Annerle* is guiltie of my true Appeal.
Besides, I heard the banifh'd *Norfolke* say,
That thou *Annerle* didst ſend two of thy men,
To execute the Noble Duke at Caillis.

Asm. Some honest Christian truſt me with a Gage,
That *Norfolke* lyes: here doe I throw downe this,
If he may be repeal'd, to trie his Honor.

Bull. These differences ſhall all reſt vnder Gage,
Till *Norfolke* be repeal'd : repeal'd he ſhall be ;
And (though mine Enemie) reſtor'd againe,
To all his Lands and Seignories : when hee's return'd,
Against *Annerle* we will enforce his Tryall.

Carl. That honorable day ſhall ne're be ſeen e.

Many a time hath banifh'd *Norfolke* ſought

for leſu Chriſt, in glorious Christian field

Streaming the Enſigne of the Christian Croſſe,

Against black Pagans, Turkes, and Saracens :

And toyl'd with workes of Warre, retyr'd himselfeſe

To Italy, and there at Venice gaue

His Body to that pleafant Countries Earth,

And his pure Soule vnto his Captaine Chriſt,

Vnder whose Colours he had fought ſo long.

Bull. Why Bifhop, is *Norfolke* dead?

Carl. As ſure as I lue, my Lord.

Bull. Sweet peace conduct his *sweet* Soule

To the 

To the 

Enter *Torke*.

Torke. Great Duke of Lancaſter, I come to thee
From plume-pluckt *Richard*, who with willing Soule

Adopts thee Heire, and his high Scepter yeelds

To the poffeffion of thy Royall Hand,

Ascend his Throre, defcnding now from him,

And long lue *Henry*, of that Name the Fourth.

Bull. In Gods Name, Ile aſcend the Regall Throre.

Carl. Mary, Heauen forbiſt.

Worth in this Royall Prefence may I ſpeake,
Yet beſt beleeming me to ſpeake the truth.

Would God, that any in this Noble Prefence

Were enough Noble, to be vpright Iudge.

Of Noble *Richard* : then true Noblenſe would

Leane him forbearance from ſo foule a Wrong.

What Subjeſt can give Sentence on his King?

And who ſits here, that is not *Richards* Subjeſt?

Theues are not iudg'd, but they are by to heate,

Although apparent guiltie be ſene in them :

And shall the figure of Gods Maiſtie,

His Captaine, Steward, Deputie eleſt,

Anoynted, Crown'd, planteſt many yeeres,

Be iudg'd by Subjeſt, and inferior breathe,

And he himselfe not preſent? Oh, forbid it, God.

That in a Christian Climate, Soules reſin'd.

Should ſhow so heynous, black, obſene a deed.

I ſpeake to Subjeſt, and a Subjeſt ſpeakes,

My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call King,

Is a ſoule Traytor to prowd *Hereſords* King.

And if you Crowne him, let me prophecie,

The blood of English ſhall manure the ground;
And future Ages groane for his ſoule Act.

Peace ſhall goe ſeepe with Turkes and Infidels,

And in this Seat of Peace, tumultuous Warres

Shall Kinne with Kinne, and Kinde with Kinde confound.

Diforder, Horror, Feare, and Mutinie

Shall here inhabite, and this Land be call'd

The field of Golgotha, and dead mens Sculls.

Oh, if you reare this Houſe, againſt this Houſe

It will the woſuſſelt Diuſion proue,

That euer ſell vpon this curſed Earth.

Preuent it, reſt it, and let it not be ſo,

Leaſt Child, Childſs Children cry againſt you, Woe.

North. Well haue you argu'd Sir: and for your paines,
Of Capitall Treſon we arreſt you here.

My Lord of Westminſter, be it your charge,

To keepe him ſafely, till his day of Tryall.

May it please you, Lords, to grant the Commons Suit?

Bull. Fetch hither *Richard*, that in common view

He may surrender : so we ſhall proceede

Without ſuſpition.

Torke. I will be his Conduct.

Exit.

Bull. Lords, you that here are vnder our Arreſt,
Procure your Sureties for your Dayes of Anſwer:

Little are we beholding to your Loue,

And little look'd for at your helping Hands.

Enter *Richard* and *Torke*.

Rich. Alack, why am I ſent for a King,

Before I haue ſhooke off the Regall thoughts

Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet haue learn'd

To infinuate, flatter, bowe, and bend my Knee.

Gie Sorrow leaue a while, to tuture me

To this ſubmission. Yet I well remember

The ſauors of theſe men : were they not mine?

Did they not ſometime cry, All hayle to me?

So *Indas* did to Chriſt : but he in twelue,

Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelue thousand, none.

God ſaue the King: will no man ſay, Amen?

Am I both Prieft, and Clarke? well then, Amen.

God ſaue the King, although I be not hee :

And yet Amen, if Heauen doe thinke him mee.

To do what ſeruice, am I ſent for hither ?

Torke. To do that office of thine owne good will,

Which tyred Maiſtie did make me that offer :

The Refignation of thy State and Crowne.

To *Henry Bullingbrooke*.

Rich. Giue me the Crown. Here Couſin, ſeize ſ' Crown :
Here Couſin, on this ſide my Hand, on that ſide thine.

Now is this Golden Crowne like a deepe Well,

That owes two Buckets, filling one another,

The emptier euer dancing in the ayre,

The other downe, vnſeene, and full of Water :

That Bucket downe, and full of Teares am I,

Drinking my Griefes, whilſt you mount vp on high.

Bull. I thought you had been willing to reſigne.

Rich. My Crowne I am, but full my Griefes are mine:
You may my Glories and my State depofe,
But not my Griefes; still am I King of thofe.

Bull. Put of your Cares you glue me with your Crowne.

Rich. Your Cares ſet vp, do not pluck my Cares downe.

My Care, is lofſe of Care, by old Care done,

Your Care, is gaine of Care, by new Care wonne:

The Cares I give, I haue, though giuen away,

They'tend the Crowne, yet still with me they ſlay:

Bull. Are you contented to reſigne the Crowne?

Rich. I,

d 2

40

Rich. I, no, no; I: for I must nothing bee;
Therefore no, no, for I resign to thee.
Now, mark me how I will vncoe my selfe.
I glue this heauie Weight from off my Head,
And this vnwardie Scepter from my Hand,
The pride of Kingly fway from out my Heart,
With mine owne I cares I wath away my Balme,
With mine owne Hands I gine away my Crowne,
With mine owne Tongue denie my Sacred State,
With mine owne Breach releafe all dutious Oathes;
All Pompe and Maieſtie I doe forſiure:
My Manors, Rents, Reuensues, I forgoe;
My Aſts, Decrees, and Statutes I denie:
God pardon all Oathes that are broke to mee,
God keepe all Vowes vnbroke are made to thee.
Make me, that nothing haue, with nothing grieu'd,
And thou with all pleas'd, that haſt all atchieu'd,
Long may'ſt thou liue in Richards Seat to ſit,
And Iooke lye Richard in an Earthie Pit.
God faue King Henry, vn-King'd Richard ſayes,
And ſend him many yeeres of Sunne-shine dayes.
What more remaines?

North: No more: but that you reade
These Acauſations, and theſe grievous Crymes,
Committed by your Petfon, and your ſollowers,
Agaſt the State, and Proſit of this Land:
That by conſeſſing them, the Soules of men
May deeme, that you are worthily depos'd.

Rich. Muſt I doe ſo ? and muſt I rauell out
My weaſd-vp follyes ? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy Offences were vpon Record,
Would it not ſhame thee, in ſo faire a troupe,
To reade a Lecſure of them ? If thou would'ſt,
There ſhould'ſt thou finde one heynous Article,
Contayning the deſoſing of a King,
And cracking the ſtrong Warrant of an Oath,
Mark'd with a Blot, damn'd in the Booke of Heauen.
Nay, all of you, that ſtand and looke vpon me,
W̿hil't that my wretchedneſſe doth bait my ſelfe,
Though ſome of you, with Pilate, wath your hands,
Shewing an outward pittie: yet you Pilates
Haue here deliuer'd me to my ſowre Croſſe,
And Water cannot wath away your finne.

North. My Lord, diſpatch, reade o're theſe Articles.

Rich. Mine Eyes are full of Teares, I cannot ſee:
And yet ſalt-Water blindes them not so much,
But they can fee a ſort of Traytors here.
Nay, if I turne mine Eyes vpon my ſelfe,
I finde my ſelfe a Traytor with the reſt:
For I haue giuen here my Soules conſent,
T'vndeck the pompous Body of a King;
Made Glory bafe; a Soueraightie, a Slaue;
Prowd Maieſtie, a Subieſt; State, a Pefant.

North. My Lord.

Rich. No Lord of thine, thou haught-inſulting man;
No, nor no man's Lord: I haue no Name, no Title;
No, nor that Name was giuen me at the Font,
But 'tis vſurpt: alack the heauie day,
That I haue wome for many Winters out,
And know not now, what Name to call my ſelfe,
Oh, that I were a Mockerie, King of Snow,
Standing before the Sunne of Bullingbrooke,
To melt my ſelfe away in Water-drops.
Good King, great King, and yet not greatly good,
And if my word be Sterling yet in England,
Let it command a Mirror hither straight,

That it may ſhew me what a Face I haue,
Since it is Bankrupt of his Maieſtie.

Bull. Goe ſome of you, and fetch a Looking-Glaſſe.
North. Read o're this Paper, while ? Glaſſe doth con.
Rich. Fiend, thou torments me, ere I come to Hell.

Bull. Vrge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.

North. The Commons will not then be fatisſ'd.

Rich. They ſhall be fatisſ'd: Ile reade enough,
When I doe ſee the very Booke indeede,
Where all my finnes are writ, and that's my ſelfe.

Enter one with a Glaſſe.

Gue me that Glaſſe, and therein will I reade.
No deeper wrinckles yet? hath Sorrow ſtrueke
So many Blowes vpon this Face of mine,
And made no deeper Wounds? Oh flat'ring Glaſſe,
Like to my ſollowers in properſit,
Thou doſt beguile me. Was this Face the Face
That every day, vnder his Houſe-hold Roofe,
Did keepe ten thouſand men? Was this the Face,
That like the Sunne, did make beholders winke?
Is this the Face, which fac'd so many follyes,
That was at laſt out-fac'd by Bullingbrooke?
A brittle Glory ſhineth in this Face,
As brittle as the Glory, is the Face,
For there it is, cracke in an hundred ſhuers,
Marke ſilent King, the Morall of this ſport,
How ſoon my Sorrow hath deftroy'd my Face.

Bull. The ſhadow of your Sorrow hath deftroy'd
The ſhadow of your Face.

Rich. Say that againe.

The ſhadow of my Sorrow: ha, let's ſee,
Tis very true, my Grieſe lyes all within,
And theſe externall manner of Laments,
Are merely ſhadowes, to the vnſee ne Grieſe,
That ſwells with ſilence in the tortur'd Soule.
There lyes the ſubſtance: and I thanke thee King
For thy great bountie, that not onely giuſt
Me cauſe to way le, but teacheſt me the way
How to lament the cauſe. He begge one Boone,
And then be gone, and trouble you no more,
Shall I obraine it?

Bull. Name it, faire Cousin.

Rich. Faire Cousin ? I am greater then a King:
For when I was a King, my flatterers
Were then but ſubieſts; being now a ſubieſt,
I haue a King here to my flatterer:
Being so great, I haue no neede to begge,

Bull. Yet aske.

Rich. And shall I haue ?

Bull. You ſhall,

Rich. Then giue me leaue to goe.

Bull. Whither?

Rich. Whither you will, ſo I were from your fightes,
Bull. Goe ſome of you, conuey him to the Tower.

Rich. Oh good: conuey: Conueyers are you all,
That rife thus nimbly by a true Kings fall.

Bull. On Wedneſday next, we Solemnly ſet downe
Our Coronation: Lords, prepare your ſelues.

Abbot: A woſul Pageant haue we here beheld.
Carl. The Woes to come, the Children yet vnborne.
Shall feele this day as ſharpe to them as Thorne.

Aum. You holy Clergie-men, is there no Plot
To rid the Realme of this pernicious Blot.

Abbot. Before I freely ſpeake my minde herein,
You shall not onely take the Sacrament,
To bury mine intents, but alſo to effect

## The Life and Death of Richard the Second.

41

What euer I shall happen to deuife,
I fee your Browes are full of Discontent,
Your Heart of Sorrow, and your Eyes of Teares,
Come home with me to Supper, I lie a Plot
Shall fhow vs all a merry day.
Exeunt.

## Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

### Enter Queene, and Ladies.

Qu. This way the King will come: this is the way
To Inius Caefars ill-erected Tower:
To whose flint Bofome, my condemned Lord
Is doom'd a Prifoner, by prowd Bullingbrooke.
Here let vs reft, if this rebellious Earth
Have any refting for her true Kings Queene.
Enter Richard, and Guard.

But loft, but fee, or rather doe not fee,
My faire Role wither: yet looke vp; behold,
That you in pittie may diffolte to dew,
And wafh him fresh againe with true-loue Teares,
Aftthough the Modell where old Troy did fland,
Thou Mappe of Honor, thou King Richards Tombe,
And not King Richard: thou moft beauteous Inne,
Why should hard-fauor'd Griefe be lodg'd in thee,
When Triumph is become an Ale-houfe Gueft.

Rich. Ioyne not with griefe, faire Woman, do not so,
To make my end too fudden: Iearne good Soule,
To thinke our former State a happy Dreaue,
From which a awak'd, the truth of what we are,
Shewes vs but this. I am fworne Brother (Sweet)
To grim Necessitie; and hee and I

Will keepe a League till Death. High thee to France,
And Cloyfter thee in fome Religious Houfe:
Our holy liues muft winne a new Worlds Crowne,
Which our propheane hours here haue stricken downe.
Qu. What, is my Richard both in shape and minde

Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bullingbrooke
Depos'd thine Intellect? hath he beene in thy Heart?
The Lyon dying, thrufteft forth his Paw,
And wounds the Earth, if nothing elfe, with rage
Tobe re-pow'r'd: and wift thou, Pupill-like,
Take thy Correction mildly, kiffle the Rodde,
And fawne on Rage with bare Humilitie,
Which art a Lyon, and a King of Beafts?

Rich. A King of Beafts indeed: if aught but Beafts,
I had beene fill a happy King of Men.
Good (sometime) Queene) prepare thee hence for France:
Thinke I am dead, and that euen here thou tak'st,
As from my Death-bed, my laft liuing leaue.
In Winters tedious Nights fit by the fire
With good old folkes, and let them tell thee Tales
Of wofull Ages, long agoe betide:

And ere thou bid good-night, to quit their griefe,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
And fend the hearers weeping to their Beds:
For why? the fenceleſſe Brands will sympathize
The heauie accent of thy mouing Tongue,
And in compassion, weepeth the fire out:

And some will mourne in affhes, some coale-black,
For the depofing of a rightfull King.
Enter Northumberland.

North. My Lord, the mind of Bullingbrooke is chang'd.

You muſt to Pomfret, not vnto the Tower.
And Madame, there is order ta'n'e for you:
With all twſt ſpeed, you muſt away to France.
Rich. Northumberland, thou Ladder wherewithall
The mounting Bullingbrooke aſcends my THRONE,
The time shall not be many houres of age,
More then it is, ere foule ſinne, gathering head,
Shall breake into corruption: thou ſhalt thinke,
Though he diuide the Realme, and giue thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all:

He ſhall thinke, that thou which know'st the way
To plant vnrightfull Kings, wift know againe,
Being ne're to little vrg'd another way,
To pluck him headlong from the vſurped THRONE.
The Loue of wicked friends conduerts to Feare;
That Feare, to Hate; and Hate turnes one, or both,
To worthie Danger, and deferu'd Death.

North. My guilt be on my Head, and there an end:
Take leaue, and part, for you muſt part forthwith.

Rich. Doubly diuor'd? (bad men) ye violate
A two-fold Marriage; 'twixt my Crowne, and me,
And then betwixt me, and my marryed Wife.
Let me vn-kiffle the Oath 'twixt thee, and me;
And yet not so, for with a Kiffle 'twas made.

Part vs, Northumberland: I, towards the North,
Where ſhiuering Cold and Sickneſſe pines the Clyme:
My Queene to France: from whence, fet forth in pompe,
She came adorned hither like sweet May;
Sent back like Hollowmas, or ſhort't of day.

Qu. And muſt we be diuided? muſt we part?

Rich. I, hand from hand (my Loue) and heart from heart.

Qu. Banifh vs both, and lend the King with me.

North. That were ſome Loue, but little Pollicy.

Qu. Then whither he goes, thither let me goe.

Rich. So two together weeping, make one Woe.

Weepe thou for me in France; I, for thee heere:
Better farre off, then neere, be ne're the neere.

Goe, count thy Way with Sighes; I, mine with Groanes.

Qu. So longeſt Way ſhall haue the longeſt Moanes.
Rich. Twice for one ſtep Ile groane; y Way being ſtort,
And peeece the Way out with a heauie heart.

Come, come, in wooing Sorrow let's be briefe,

Since wedding it, there is ſuch length in Griefe:

One Kiffle ſhall ſtop our mouthes, and dumbely part;
Thus giue I mine, and thus take I thy heart.

Qu. Giue me mine owne againe: 'twere no good part,
To take on me to keepe, and kill thy heart.
So, now I haue mine owne againe, be gone,
That I may ſtrieu to kill it with a groane.

Rich. We make Woe wanton with this ſond delay:
Once more adieu; the reſt, let Sorrow lay.
Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

### Enter Torke, and his Duchesse.

Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the reſt,
When weeping made you breake the ſtory off,
Of our two Couſins comming into London.

Torke. Where did I leaue?

Duch. At that ſad Foppe, my Lord,
Where rude miſs, gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,
Threw duſt and rubbish on King Richards head.

Torke. Then

d 3

["The Life and Death of Richard the Second.", "42", "Torke. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bullingbrooke,\nMounted vpon a hot and fierie Steed,", "Which his aspiring Rider seem'd to know,", "With flow, but stately pace, kept on his course :", "While all tongues cride, God faue thee Bullingbrooke.", "You would haue thought the very windowes Ipike,", "So many greedy lookes of yong and old,", "Through Cafements darted their defiring eyes", "Vpon his visage: and that all the walles,", "With painted Imagery had faid at once,", "Ifu preferue thee, welcom Bullingbrooke.", "Whilft he, from one fide to the other turning,", "Bare-headed, lower then his proud Steeds necke,", "Bespake them thus: I thanke you Countrimen:", "And thus full doing, thus he paft along.", "Dutch. Alas poore Richard, where rides he the whilft?", "Torke. As in a Theater, the eyes of men", "After a well grac'd Actor leaues the Stage,", "Are idly bent on him that enters next,", "Thinking his prattle to be tedious :", "Euen so, or with much more contempr, mens eyes", "Did fowle on Richard: no man cride, God faue him:", "No ioyfull tongue gaue him his welcome home,", "But duft was throwne vpon his Sacred head,", "Which with such gentle forrow he shooke off,", "His face full combating with teares and Smiles", "(The badges of his greefe and patience)", "That had not God (for some strong purpofe) feel'd", "The hearts of men, they muft perforce haue melted,", "And Barbarifme it selfe haue pittied him.", "But heauen hath a hand in these euents,", "To whose high will we bound our calme contents.", "To Bullingbrooke, are we fware Subieets now,", "Whofe State, and Honor, I for aye allow.", "Enter Aumerle.", "Dut. Heere comes my fonne Aumerle.", "Tor. Aumerle that was,", "But that is loft, for being Richards Friend.", "And Madam, you muft call him Rutland now:", "I am in Parliament pledge for his truth,", "And lafting fealtie to the new-made King.", "Dut. Welcome my fonne : who are the Violets now,", "That flew the greene lap of the new-come Spring ?", "Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not,", "God knowes, I had as liefe be none, as one.", "Torke. Well, beare you well in this new- spring of time", "Leaft you be cropt before you come to prime.", "What newes from Oxford? Hold thofe Iufts & Triumphs?", "Aum. For ought I know my Lord, they do.", "Torke. You will be there I know.", "Aum. If God preuent not, I purpofe so.", "Tor. What Seale is that that hangs without thy bofom?", "Yea, look it thou pale? Let me fee the Writing.", "Aums. My Lord, 'tis nothing.", "Torke. No matter then who fees it,", "I will be satisfied, let me fee the Writing.", "Aum. I do beſeech your Grace to pardon me,", "It is a matter of ſmall conſequence,", "Which for ſome reaſons I would not haue ſeene.", "Torke. Which for ſome reaſons fir, I meane to feeſ", "I ſeare, I ſeare.", "Dut. What ſhould you ſeare ?", "Tis nothing but ſome bond, that he is enter'd into", "For gay apparrell, againſt the Triumph.", "Torke. Bound to himſelfe? What doth he with a Bond", "That he is bound to ? Wife, thou art a foole.", "Boy, let me fee the Writing.", "Aum. I do beſeech you pardon me, I may not ſneewi", "Tor. I will be ſatisfied: let me fee it I say. Snatches it", "Treasafon, foule Treasafon, Villaine, Traitor, Slaue.", "Dut. What's the matter, my Lord?", "Torke. Hoa, who's within there? Saddle my horſe.", "Heauen for his mercy: what treachery is heere?", "Dut. Why, what is't my Lord?", "Torke. Giue me my boots, I ſay: Saddle my horſe:", "Now by my Honor, my life, my troth,", "I will appeach the Villaine.", "Dut. What is the matter?", "Torke. Peace foolifh Woman.", "Dut. I will not peace. What is the matter Sonne?", "Aums. Good Mother be content, it is no more", "Then my poore life muſt anſwer.", "Dut. Thy life anſwer ?", "Enter Servant with Boots.", "Tor. Bring me my Boots, I will vnto the King.", "Dut. Strike him Aumerle. Poore boy, I art amaſ'd,", "Hence Villaine, neuer more come in my fight,", "Tor. Giue me my Boots, I ſay.", "Dut. Why Yorke, what wilt thou do?", "Wilt thou not hide the Trepſaſſe of thine owne?", "Haue we more Sonnes? Or are we like to haue?", "Is not my teeming date drunke vp with time?", "And wilt thou plucke my faire Sonne from mine Age,", "And rob me of a happy Mothers name?", "Is he not like thee? Is he not thine owne?", "Tor. Thou fond mad woman :", "Wilt thou conceale this darke Conſpiracy?", "A dozen of them hec: haue tane the Sacrament,", "And interchangeably ſet downe their hands", "To kill the King at Oxford.", "Dut. He ſhall be none :", "Wee I keepe him heere : then what is that to him?", "Tor. Away fond woman : were hee twenty times my\nSon, I would appeach him.", "Dut. Hadst thou groan'd for him as I haue done,", "Thou wouleſt be more pittrifull :", "But now I know thy minde : thou doſt ſuſpect", "That I haue bene diſloyall to thy bed,", "And that he is a Baſtard, not thy Sonne :", "Sweet Yorke, I ſweet husband, be not of that minde:", "He is as like thee, as a man may be,", "Not like to me, nor any of my Kin,", "And yet I loue him.", "Torke. Make way, vnruly Woman.", "Dut. After Aumerle. Mount thee vpon his horſe,", "Spurre poſt, and get before him to the King,", "And begg thy pardon, ere he do acuſe thee,", "Ile not be long behind : though I be old,", "I doubt not but to ride as ſaſt as Yorke:", "And neuer will Irife vp from the ground,", "Till Bullingbrooke haue pardon'd thee: Away be gone.", "Scena Tertia.", "Enter Bullingbrooke, Percie, and other Lords.", "Bul. Can no man tell of

43

For there (they say) he dayly doth frequent,
With vrefrestrained loose Companions,
Euen such (they say) as stand in narrow Lanes,
Euen our Warch, and beate our paffengers,
Which he, yong wanton, and effeminate Boy
Takes on the point of Honor, to support
So diffolute a crew.

Per. My Lord, some two dayes since I saw the Prince,
And told him of thefe Triumphs held at Oxford.
Bul. And what said the Gallant ?

Per. His anſwer was : he would vnto the Stewes,
And from the common'ſt creature plucke a Gloue
And weare it as a faucur, and with that
He would vnhorſe the luſtliet Challenger.

Bul. As diffolute as defp'rate, yet through both,
I fee some ſparkes of better hope : which elder dayes
May happily bring forth. But who comes here ?

Enter Aumerle.

Aum. Where is the King ?

Bul. What means our Cofin, that hee ſtares
And lookse so wildly ?

Aum. God faue your Grace. I do beſeech your Maieſty
To haue some conference with your Grace alone.

Bul. Withdraw your ſelues, and leaue vs here alone :
What is the matter with our Cofin now ?

Aum. For euer may my knees grow to the earth,
My tongue cleane to my rooſe within my mouth,
Valeſſa Pardon, ere I rife, or ſpeake.

Bul. Intended, or committed was this fault ?

Iſon the firſt, how heynous ere it bee,
Towin thy after loue, I pardon thee.

Aum. Then giue me leaue, that I may turne the key,
Thatno man enter, till my tale me done.

Bul. Haue thy deſire.

Yorke within.

Tor. My Liege beware, looke to thy ſelfe,
Thou haſt a Traitor in thy prefence there.

Bul. Villaine, Ile make thee ſafe.

Aum. Stay thy reuengefull hand, thou haſt no cauſe
to feare.

Torke. Open the doore, ſecure ſoole-hardy King :
Shall I for loue ſpeake treaon to thy face?
Open the doore, or I will breake it open.

Enter Torke.

Bul. What is the matter (Vnkle) ſpeak, recouer breath,
Tell vs how neere is danger,

That we may arme vs to encounter it.

Tor. Perufe this writing heere, and thou haſt know
Thereaſon that my haſte forbids me ſhow.

Aum. Remember as thou read'ſt, thy promife palt :
I do repent me, reade not my name there,
My heart is not confederate with my hand.

Tor. It was (villaine) ere thy hand did ſet it downe.
I tore it from the Traitors boſome, King.
Feare, and not Loue, begets his penitence ;
Forget to pitty him, leaſt thy pitty proue
A Serpent, that will fling thee to the heart.

Bul. Oh heinous, ſtrong, and bold Confpiracie,
O loyall Father of a treacherous Sonne:
Thou ſhere, immaculate, and filius fontaine,
From whence this ſtreame, through muddy paffages
Hath had his current, and deſil'd himſelfe.
Thy ouerflow of good, conuerts to bad,
And thy abundant goodneſſe shall excufe
This deadly blot, in thy digreſſing ſonne.

Torke. So ſhall my Vertue be his Vices bawd,
And he ſhall spend mine Honour, with his ſhame ;

As thriftlesſe Sonnes, their scraping Fathers Gold,
Mine honor liues, when his diſhonour dies,
Or my ſharn'd life, in his diſhonour lies :
Thou kill'ſt me in his life, giuing him breath,
The Traitor liues, the true man ſ put to death.

Dutcheſſe within.

Dut. What hoa(my Liege) for heauens ſake let me in.
Bul. What thrill-voic'd Suppliant, makes this eager cry ?

Dut. A woman, and thine Aunt (great King) tis I.

Speake with me, pitty me, open the dore,
A Begger begs, that neuer begg'd before.

Bul. Our Scene is alter'd from a ſerious thing,
And now chang'd to the Begger, and the King.
My dangerous Cofin, let your Mother in,
I know ſhe's come, to pray for your foule fin.

Torke. If thou do pardon, whoſoever pray,
More finnes for this forgiuenſſe, proſper may.
This ſeſter'd ioynt cut off, the reſt reſts found,
This let alone, will all the reſt confound.

Enter Dutchefſe.

Dut. O King, beleeue not this hard-hearted man,
Loue, louing not it ſelfe, none other can.

Tor. Thou franticke woman, what doſt thou make here,
Shall thy old dugges, once more a Traitor reare ?

Dut. Sweet Yorke be patient, heare me: gentle Liege.

Bul. Rife vp good Aunt.

Dut. Not yet, I thee beſeech.

For euer will I kneele vpon my knees,

And neuer fee day, that the happy ſees,

Till thou giue ioy : vntill thou bid me ioy.

By pardoning Rutland, my tranſgreffing Boy.

Aum. Vnto my mothers prayres, I bend my knee.

Torke. Against them both, my true ioynts bended be.

Dut. Pleades he in earneſt? Looke vpon his Face,

His eyes do drop no teares: his prayres are in ieft :

His words come from his mouth, ours from our breſt.

He prayes but faintly, and would be denide,

We pray with heart, and foule, and all befide :

His weary ioynts would gladly tife, I know,

Our knees shall kneele, till to the ground they grow :

His prayers are full of falſe hypocrifſe,

Ours of true zeale, and deepe integritie :

Our prayers do out-pray his, then let them haue

That mercry, which true prayers ought to haue.

Bul. Good Aunt ſland vp.

Dut. Nay, do not ſay ſtand vp.

But Pardon firſt, and afterwards ſtand vp.

And if I were thy Nurſe, thy tongue to teach,

Pardon ſhould be the firſt word of thy ſpeach.

I neuer long'd to heare a word till now :

Say Pardon (King), I'lec pitty teach thee how.

The word is ſhort : but not so ſhort as ſweet,

No word like Pardon, for Kings mouth's ſo meet.

Torke. Speake it in French (King) ſay Pardon ne moy.

Dut. Doſt thou teach pardon, Pardon to deſtroy ?

Ah my ſowre husband, my hard-hearted Lord,

That ſet's the word it ſelfe, againſt the word,

Speake Pardon, as't is currant in our Land,

The chopping French we do not vnderſtand.

Thine eye begins to ſpeake, ſet thy tongue there,

Or in thy pitteous heart, plant thou thine eare,

That hearing how our plaints and prayres do pearce,

Pitty may moue thee, Pardon to rehearse.

Bul. Good Aunt, ſtand vp.

Dut. I do not ſue to ſtand,

Pardon is all the ſuite I haue in hand.

Bul.

44

Bul. I pardon him, as heauen shall pardon mee.

Dut. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee :

Yet am I fique for feare: Speake it againe,
Twice faying Pardon, doth not pardon twaine,
But makes one pardon strong.

Bul. I pardon him with all my hart.

Dut. A God on earth thou art.

Bul. But for our truſtly brother-in-Law, the Abbot,
With all the reſt of that conſorted crew,
Deſtruction ſtraight ſhall dogge them at the heeles :

Good Vnckle helpe to order ſeverall powres

To Oxford, or where ere theſe Traitors are :

They ſhall not liue within this world I ſweare,
But I will haue them, if I once know where.

Vnckle farewell, and Coſin adieu:

Your mother well hath praid, and proue you true.

Dut. Come my old ſon, I pray heauen make thee new.

Exeunt.

Enter Exton and Servant.

Ext. Didst thou not marke the King what words he ſpake ?

Hae I no friend will rid me of this liuing feare :

Was it not ſo ?

Ser. Thole were his very words.

Ext. Hae I no Friend? (quoth he:) he ſpake it twice,

And vrg'd it twice together, did he not ?

Ser. He did.

Ext. And speaking it, he wifly look'd on me,

As who should ſay, I would thou wert the man
That would diuorce this terror from my heart,
Meaning the King at Pomfret: Come, let's goe ;

I am the Kings Friend, and will rid his Foe.

Exit.

## Scæna Quarta.

Enter Richard.

Rich. I have bin ſtudying, how to compare
This Prifon where I liue, vnto the World :

And for becauſe the world is populous,

And heere is a Creaſure, but my ſelfe,

I cannot do it: yet Ie hammer't out.

My Braine, Ile proue the Female to my Soule,

My Soule, the Father: and theſe two beget

A generation of ſtill breeding Thoughts ;

And theſe fame Thoughts, people this Little World

In humors, like the people of this world,

For no thought is contented. The better ſort,

As thoughts of things Diuine, are intermixt

With ſcruples, and do fet the Faith it ſelfe

Againſt the Faith as thus: Come little ones: & then again,

It is as hard to come, as for a Camell

To thred the poſterne of a Needles eye.

Thoughts tending to Ambition, they do plot
Vnlikely wonders; how theſe vaine weake nailes

May teare a paffage through the Flinty ribbes

Of this hard world, my ragged prifon walles:

And for they cannot, dye in their owne pride.

Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themſelues,

That they are not the firſt of Fortunes flanes,

Nor ſhall not be the laſt. Like filly Beggars,

Who ſitting in the Stockes, ſ refuge their ſhame

That many haue, and others muſt fit there ;

And in this Th ought, they finde a kind of eafe,

Bearing their owne misfortune on the backe
Of ſuch as haue before indur'd the like.

Thus play I in one Prifon, many people,
And none contented. Sometimes am I King ;
Then Treafon makes me with my ſelfe a Beggar,
And I o am. Then crushing penurie,

Perſwades me, I was better when a King :

Then am I king'd againe : and by and by,

Thinke that I am vn-king'd by *Bullingbrooke*,

And ſtraight am nothing. But what ere I am,

Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,

With nothing ſhall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd

With being nothing. Muſicke do I heare?

Ha, ha? keefe time: How ſowre ſweet Muſicke is,

When Time is broke, and no Proportion kept ?

So is it in the Muſicke of mens liues :

And heere haue I the daintinesſe of eare,

To heare time broke in a diſorder'd dring :

But for the Concord of my State and Time,
Had not an eare to heare my true Time broke,
I waſted Time, and now doth Time wafe me :

For now hath Time made me his numbring clocke ;

My Thoughts, are minutes ; and with Sighes they are,

Their watches on vnto mine eyes, the outward Watch,
Whereto my finger, like a Dialls point,

Is pointing ſtill, in cleaning them from teares.

Now fir, the found that tells what houre it is,

Are clamorous groanes, that ſtrike vpon my heart,

Which is the bell: ſo Sighes, and Teares, and Grones,

Shew Minutes, Houres, and Times : but any Time

Runs poaſting on, in *Bullingbrooke's* proud joy,

While I stand fooling here, his iacke o'th'Clocke.

This Muſicke mads me, let it found no more,

For though it haue holpe madmen to their wits,

In me it ſemes, it will make wife-men mad :

Yet bleſſing on his heart that giues it me;

For 'tis a ſigne of loue, and loue to *Richard*,

Is a ſtrange Brooch, in this all-hating world,

Enter Groome.

Groo. Haile Royall Prince.

Rich. Thankes Noble Peere,

The cheapest of vs, is ten groates too deere.

What art thou ? And how com'ſt thou hither?

Where no man euer comes, but that ſad dogge

That brings me food, to make misfortune liue ?

Groo. I was a poore Groome of thy Stable (King)

When thou wert King, who trauelling towards Yorke,

With much adoo, at length haue gotten leaue

To looke vpon my (sometimes Royall) maſters face.

O how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld

In London streets, that Coronation day,

When *Bullingbrooke* rode on Roane Barbary,

That horſe, that thou ſo often haſt beſtrid,

That horſe, that I ſo carefully haue dreſſ.

Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me gentle Friend,
How went he vnder him ?

Groo. So proudly, as if he had difdain'd the ground.

Rich. So proud, that *Bullingbrooke* was on his backe;

That Iade hath eate bread from my Royall hand.

This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.

Would he not ſtumble? Would he not fall downe
(Since Pride muſt haue a fall) and breake the necke
Of that proud man, that did vſurpe his backe ?

Forgiuenſe horſe: Why do I raile on thee,

Since thou created to be aw'd by man

Was't borne to beare? I was not made a horſe,

Muſicke

And

["The Life and Death of Richard the Second.", "And yet I beare a burthen like an Affe,\nSpur-gall'd, and ryd by launcing Bullingbrooke.\n\n*Enter Keeper with a Dish.*", "", "Keep. Fellow, give place, here is no longer stay.", "Reb. If thou loe me, this time thou wert away.", "Gree. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall Exit.", "Keep. My Lord, will please you to fall too?", "Reb. Tasted of it first, as thou wert not to do.", "Keep. My Lord I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, Who lately came from th' King, commands the contrary. Reb. The diuell take Henrie of Lancaster, and thee; Patience is fale, and I am weary of it.", "Keep. Helpe, helpe, helpe.", "", "*Enter Exton and Seruants.*", "Re. How now? what meanes Death in this rude affait? Villaine, thine owne hand yeelds thy deaths instrument, Go thou and fill another roome in hell.", "", "Exton strikes him downe.\nThat hand shall burne in neuer-quenching fire,\nThat flaggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand,\nHath with the Kings blood, stain'd the Kings own land.\nMount, mounte my foule, thy feate is vp on high,\nWhile it my groſſe ſlesh linkes downward, hereere to dye.", "Exton. As full of Valor, as of Royall blood,\nBoth haue I spilt: Oh would this deed were good.", "For now the diuell, that told me I did well,", "Swees, that this deede is chronicle'd in hell.", "This dead King to the liuing King Ile beare,\nTake hence the rest, and giue them buriall here.", "Exit.", "## Scena Quinta.", "Flourish.\n*Enter Bullingbrooke, Yorke, with other Lords & attendants.*", "Bul. Kindie Vnkle Yorke, the lateſt newes we heare,\nI that the Rebels haue conſum'd with fire\nOur Towne of Ciceter ſhire,\nBut whether they beane or ſlaine, we heare not.", "*Enter Northumberland.*", "Welcome my Lord: What is the newes?", "Nor. First to thy Sacred State, with I all happineſſe:\nThe next newes is, I haue to London ſent:\nThe heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent:", "The manner of their taking may appeare\nAt large diſcourſed in this paper here.", "Bul. We thank thee gentle Percy for thy paines,\nAnd to thy worth will adde right worthy gaines.", "*Enter Fitz-waters.*", "Fitz. My Lord, I haue from Oxford ſent to London,\nThe heads of Broccas, and Sir Bennet Seelſ,\nTwo of the dangerous conſorted Traitors,", "That fought at Oxford, thy dire ouerthrow.", "Bul. Thy paines Fitzwaters ſhall not be ſorgt,\nRight Noble is thy merit, well I wot.", "*Enter Percy and Carlile.*", "Per. The grand Conspirator, Abbot of Westminſter,\nWith clog of Conſcience, and ſowre Melancholly,\nHath yeelded vp his body to the graue :", "But here is Carlile, liuing to abide", "Thy Kingly doome, and ſentence of his pride.", "Bul. Carlile, this is your doome :", "Choose out ſome ſecret place, ſome reuerend roome", "More then thou haſt, and with it Ioy thy life:", "So as thou liuſt in peace, dye free from ſtrike :", "For though mine enemys: thou haſt euer beene,", "High ſparkes of Honor in thee haue I ſeene.", "*Enter Exton with a Coffin.*", "Exton. Great King, within this Coffin I preſene\nThy buried feare. Herein all breathleſſe lies\nThe mightieſt of thy greatest enemies", "Richard of Burdeaux, by me liuer brought.", "Bul. Exton, I thanke thee not, for thou haſt wrought\nA deede of Slaughter, with thy fatall hand,\nVp my head, and all this famous Land.", "Ex. From your owne mouth my Lord, did I this deed.", "Bul. They loue not poyſon, that do poyſon neede,\nNor do I theſe: though I did wifh him dead,", "I hafe the Murtherer, lone him murthered.", "The guilt of conſcience take thou for thy labour,", "But neither my good word, nor Princely ſavour.", "With Caine go wander through the ſhade of night,", "And neuer ſhew thy head by day, nor light.", "Lords, I proteſt my foule is full of woe,", "That blood should ſprinkle me, to make me grow.", "Come mourne with me, for that I do lament,", "And put on ſullen Blaekes incontinent:", "Ile make a voyage to the Holy-land,", "To waſh this blood off from my guilty hand.", "March ſadly after, grace my mourning heree,", "In weeping after this untimely Beere.", "Exeunt.", "FINIS.", "<table><tr><td>And I did not know the King</td></tr><tr><td>No floud or conflict, but a ſuppliant</td></tr><tr><td>And I am now a prisoner in</td></tr><tr><td>the King's hand</td></tr><tr><td>And I have beene a prisoner in</td></tr><tr><td>the King's house</td></tr><tr><td>And I have beene a prisoner in</td></tr><tr><td>the King's chamber</td></tr><tr><td>And I have beene a prisoner in</td></tr><tr><td>

46

# The First Part of Henry the Fourth,
with the Life and Death of HENRY
Sirnamed HOT-SPVRRE.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, with others.

King.

O shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Finde we a time for frighted Peace to pant,
And breath shortwinded accents of new broils
To be commeend in Stronds a-farre remote :

No more the thirtie entrance of this Soile,
Shall daube her lippes with her owne childrens blood :
No more shall trenching Warre channell her fields,
Nor bruise her Flowrets with the Armed hoofes
Of hoftile paces. Thoſe oppofed eyes,
Which like the Meteors of a troubled Heauen,
All of one Nature, of one Subſtance bred,
Did lately meete in the intestine ſhocke,
And furious cloze of ciuill Butchery,
Shall now in mutuall well-beeming rankes
March all one way, and be no more oppos'd
Against Acquaintance, Kindred, and Alles.

The edge of Warre, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his Matter, Therefore Friends,
As farre as to the Sepulcher of Christ.

Whofe Souldier now under whose bleſſed Croſſe
We are impreſſed and ingag'd to fight,
Forthwith a power of English ſhall we leuie,
Whofe armes were moulded in their Mothers wombe,
To chace these Pagans in those holy Fields,
Ouer whose Acres walk'd those bleſſed feete

Which fourteene hundred yeares ago were nail'd
For our aduantage on the bitter Croſſe,
But this our purpofe is a tweluemonth old,
And bootleſſe'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare
Of you my gentle Couſin Westmerland,
What yeſternight our Councell did decree,
In forwarding this deere expediencë.

Weſt. My Liege: This haſte was hot in queſtion,
And many limits of the Charge fer downe
But yeſternight: when all athwart there came
A Poſt from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes;
Whofe worſt was, That the Noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Againſt the irregular and wilde Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welſhman taken,
And a thouſand of his people butchered :

Vpon whose dead corps there was ſuch mifule,
Such beaſtly, ſhameleſſe transformation,
By whose Welſhwomen done, as may not be
(Without much ſhame) re-told or ſpoken of,
King. It ſeemes then, that the tidings of this broil,
Brake off our buſineſſe for the Holy land.

Weſt. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord,
Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes
Came from the North, and thus it did report :
On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotſpurre there,
Young Harry Percy, and braue Archibald,

That euer-valiant and approoued Scot,
At Holmeden met, where they did ſpend
A fad and bloody houre:
As by diſcharge of their Artillerie,
And shape of likely-hood the newes was told:
For he that brought them, in the very heate
And pride of their contention, did take horſe,
Vncertaine of the iſſue any way.

King. Heere is a deere and true induſtrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his Horſe;
Strain'd with the variation of each ſoyle,
Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours:
And he hath brought vs smooth and welcomes newes.

The Earle of Dowglas is discomſtſed,
Ten thouſand bold Scors, two and twenty Knights
Balk'd in their owne blood did Sir Walter fee
On Holmedons Plaines. Of Prisoners, Hotſpurre took
Mordake Earle of Fife, and eldeſt ſonne

To beateon Dowglas, and the Earle of Athell,
Of Murry, Angus, and Menteith.

And is not this an honourable ſpoyle ?
A gallant prize ? Ha Cofin, is it not? Inſaith it is.

Weſt. A Conqueſt for a Prince to boaſt of.

King. Yea, there thou mak'st me fad, & mak'ſt me fin,
In enuy, that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the Father of ſo bleft a Sonne :

A Sonne, who is the Theame of Honors tongue;
Among't a Groue, the very ſtraightest Plant,
Who is ſweet Fortunes Minion, and her Pride:
Whilft I by looking on the prieſe of him,
See Ryt and Difhonor ſtaine the brow
Of my yong Harry. O that it could be prou'd,
That ſome Night-tripping Faiery, had exchang'd
In Cradle-clothes, our Children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet :

The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.

49

Then would I haue his Harry, and he mine:
But let him from my thoughts. What thinke you Coze,
Of this young Percies pride ? The Prisoners
Which he in this adventure hath surpriz'd,
To his owne vs he keepes, and tends me word
I shall haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife,
This is his Vnckles teaching. This is Worcester
Deft. This is his Vnckles teaching. This is Worcester

Malevolent to you in all Aspects:

Which makes him prune himselfe, and bristle vp
The craft of Youth against your Dignity.

Kng. But I haue sent for him to answer this:
And for this caufe a while we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Ierusalem.

Cofin, on Wednesday next, our Councell we will hold
At Windfor, and so informe the Lords:
But come your selfe with speed to vs againe,
For more is to be faid, and to be done,
Then out of anger can be yttered.

Woff. I will my Liege.

Exeunt

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Henry Prince of Wales, Sir John Falstaffe, and Pointz.

Fal. Now Hal, what time of day is it Lad ?

Prince. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of olde Sacke, and vnbuttoning thee after Supper, and sleeping upon Benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand that truely, which thou wouldeft truly know. What a diuell haft thou to do with the time of the day ? wileſſe hours were cups of Sacke, and minutes Capons, and clockes the tongues of Bawdes, and dialls the ſignes of Leaping-houſes, and the bleſſed Sunne himſelfe a faire hot Wench in Flame-coloured Taffata; I fee no reafon, why thou shouldſt bee ſo ſuperfluous, to demaund the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed you come neere me now Hal, for we that take Purſes, go by the Moone and ſeuen Starres, and not by Phebus bee, that wand'ring Knight ſo faire. And I prythee ſweet Wagge, when thou art King, as God faue thy Grace, Maiely I should ſay, for Grace thou wilte haue none.

Prin. What, none?

Fal. No, not so much as will ſerue to be Prologue to an Egge and Butter.

Prin. Well, how then? Come roundly, roundly.

Fal. Marry then, (weet Wagge, when thou art King,
let not vs that are Squires of the Nights bodie, bee call'd
Theeues of the Dayes beautitie. Let vs be Dianae Forre-
flers, Gentlemen of the Shade, Minions of the Moone;
and let men ſay, we be men of good Gouernment, being
gouerned as the Sea is, by our noble and chaſt miſtris the
Moone, vnder whose countenance we ſteale.

Prin. Thou fay'ſt well, and it holds well too : for the
fortune of vs that are the Moones men, doeth ebbe and
flow like the Sea, beeing governed as the Sea is, by the
Moone: as for proofe. Now a Purſe of Gold moſt refo-
lutely ſnatch'd on Monday night, and moſt diffolutely
ſpent on Tuesday Morning; got with ſwearing, Lay by:
and ſpent with crying, Bring in : now, in as low an ebbe
as the foot of the Ladder, and by and by in as high a flow
as the ridge of the Gallowes.

Fal. Thou fay'ſt true Lad : and is not my Hoftſeſſe
of the Tauerne a moſt ſweet Wench?

Prin. As, is the hony, my old Lad of the Castle; and is not a Buffe Ierkin a moſt ſweet robe of durance?

Fal. How now? how now mad Wagge? What in thy quips and thy quiddities? What a plague haue I to doe with a Buffe-Ierkin?

Prin. Why, what a poxe haue I to doe with my Ho-
ſeſſe of the Tauerne?

Fal. Well, thou haſt call'd her to a reck'ning many a
time and oft.

Prin. Did I euer call for thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No, Ile gue thee thy due, thou haſt paid al there.

Prin. Yea, and elfewhere, ſo farre as my Coine would
stretch, and where it would not, I haue vs'd my credit.

Fal. Yea, and ſo vs'd it, that were it heere apparant,
that thou art Heire apparant. But I prythee ſweet Wag,
thall there be Gallowes standing in England when
thou art King ? and refolution thus febb'd as it is,
with the ru-
ſtie curbe of old Father Anticke the Law ? Doe not thou
when thou art a King, hang a Theeſe.

Prin. No, thou ſhalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rate! Ile be a braue Iudge.

Prin. Thou iudgeſt ſalſe already. I meane, thou ſhalt haue the hanging of the Theeues, and ſo become a rare Hangman.

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

Prin. For obtaining of ſuites?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of ſuites, whereof the Hang-
man hath no leane Wardrobe. I am as Melancholly as a
Gyb-Cat, or a lugg'd Beare.

Prin. Or an old Lyon, or a Louers Lute.

Fal. Yea, or the Drone of a Lincolnſhire Bagpipe.

Prin. What fay'ſt thou to a Hare, or the Melancholly
of Moore-Ditch?

Fal. Thou haſt the moſt vnfauoury ſmiles, and art in-
deed the moſt comparatiue rafcalleft ſweet yong Prince.
But Hal, I prythee trouble me no more with vanity, I wold
thou and I knew, where a Commodity of good names
were to be bought: an olde Lord of the Councell rated
me the other day in the ſtreet about you fir; but I mark'd
him not, and yet hee talk'd very wifely, but I regarded
him not, and yet he talkt wifely, and in the ſtreet too.

Prin. Thou didſt well: for no man regards it.

Fal. O, thou haſt damnable iteration, and art indeede
able to corrupt a Saint. Thou haſt done much harme vn-
to me Hall, God forgiue thee for it. Before I knew thee
Hal, I knew nothing: and now I am (if a man ſhold ſpeake
truly) little better then one of the wicked. I muſt giue o-
uer this life, and I will giue it ouer : and I do not, I am a
Villaine. Ile be damn'd for neuer a Kings ſonne in Chris-
ſtendome.

Prin. Where ſhall we take a purſe to morrow, Iacke?

Fal. Where thou wilt Lad, Ile make one : and I doe not, call me Villaine, and baffle me.

Prin. I fee a good amendment of life in thee : From
Praying, to Purſe-taking.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my Vocation Hal: 'Tis no ſin for a
man to labour in his Vocation.

Pointz. Now ſhall weee know if Gads hill haue ſet a
Watch. O, if men were to be faued by merit, what hole
in Hell were hot enough for him ? This is the moſt omni-
potent Villaine, that euer cryed, Stand, to a true man.

Prin. Good morrow Ned.

Pointz.

*Poines.* Good morrow sweet Hal, What faies Monfieur Morjemie ? What fayes Sir John Sacke and Sugar: Iacke? How agrees the Diuell and thee about thy Soule, that thou foldelt him on Good-Friday laft, for a Cup of Mafera, and a cold Capons legge?

*Prin.* Sir John stands to his word, the diuell shall haue his bargaine, for he was neuer yet a Breaker of Prouerbes: He will giue the diuell this due.

*Poin.* Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the diuell.

*Prin.* Elle he had damn'd for cozening the diuell.

*Poy.* But my Lads, my Lads, to morrow morning, by foure a clocke early at Gads hill, there are Pilgrimes going to Canterbury with rich Offerings, and Traders riding to London with fat Purpes. I haue vizards for you all; you haue horces for your felues: Gads-hill Iyes to night in Rochefoster, I haue beſpoke Supper to morrow in Eaſtcheape; we may doe it as ſecure as fleeep: if you will go, I will ſtuffe your Purpes full of Crownes: if you will not, tarry at home and be hang'd.

*Fal.* Heare ye Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not, Ile hang you for going.

*Poy.* You will chops.

*Fal.* Hal, wilt thou make one?

*Prin.* Who, I rob? I a Theefe? Not I.

*Fal.* There's neither honcſt, manhood, nor good ſellowſhip in thee, nor thou cam't not of the blood-royall, if thou dar't not ſtand for ten ſhillings.

*Prin.* Well then, once in my dayes Ile be a mad-cap.

*Fal.* Why, that's well faid.

*Prin.* Well, come what will, Ile tarry at home.

*Fal.* Ile be a Traitor then, when thou art King.

*Prin.* I care not.

*Poyn.* Sir John, I prythe leaue the Prince & me alone, I will lay him downe ſuch reaons for this aduenture, that he ſhall go.

*Fal.* Well, maift thou haue the Spirit of perſwacion; and he the eares of profiting, that what thou ſpeakeſt, may moue; and what he heares may be beleeued, that the true Prince, may (for recreation ſake) proue a falſe theefe; for the poore abufes of the time, want countenance. Farwell, you ſhall finde me in Eaſtcheape.

*Prin.* Farewell the latter Spring. Farewell Alhollown Summer.

*Poy.* Now, my good sweet Hony Lord, ride with vs to morrow. I haue a leſt to execute, that I cannot mannage alone. Faltaffe, Harvey, Roffill, and Gads-hill, shall robbe those men that wee haue already way-layde, your ſelfe and I, will not be there: and when they haue the booſty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders.

*Prin.* But how ſhal we part with them in fetting ſorth?

*Poyn.* Why, we wil ſet ſorth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleafure to faile; and then will they aduenture vppon the exploit them ſelues, which they shall haue no ſooner atchieued, but wee'l ſet vpon them.

*Prin.* I, but tis like that they will know vs by our horſes, by our habits, and by every other appointment to be our ſelues.

*Poy.* Tut our horſes they ſhall not ſee, Ile tye them in the wood, our vizards wee will change after wee leaue them: and firrah, I haue Cafes of Buckram for the nonce, to immaske our noted outward garments.

*Prin.* But I doubt they will be too hard for vs.

*Poy.* Well, for two of them, I know them to bee as

true bred Cowards as euer turn'd backe: and for the third if he fight longer then he ſees reaon, Ile forſwear Atmeres. The vertue of this leſt will be, the incomprehensible ſlent that this fat Rogue will tell vs, when we meete at Supper how thirty at leaſt he fought with, what Wardes, what blowes, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this, Iyes the ieſt.

*Prin.* Well, Ile goe with thee, prouide vs all things neceſſary, and meete me to morrow night in Eaſtcheape, there Ile ſup. Farewell.

*Poyn.* Farewell, my Lord.

*Exit Poyn.*

*Prin.* I know you all, and will a while vphold

The vnyoak'd humor of your idlenſe: Yet neerein will I imitate the Sunne, Who doth permit the bafe contagious cloudes To ſmother vp his Beauty from the world, That when he pleafe againe to be himſelfe, Being wanted, he may be more wondred at, By breaking through the foule and vgly miſts Of vapours, that did ſeeme to ſtrangle him. If all the yeare were playing holiadaies, To ſport, would be as tedious as to worke; But when they teldome come, they wifht-for come, And nothing pleafeth but rare accidents. So when this loose behauiour I throw off, And pay the debt I neuer promised; By how much better then my word I am, By ſo much ſhall I falſiſe mens hopes, And like bright Mettall on a ſullen ground; My reformation glittering o're my fault, Shall ſhew more goodly, and attract more eyes, Then that which hath no ſoyle to ſet it off. Ile ſo offend, to make offence a skill, Redeeming time, when men thinke leaſt I will.

## Scæna Tertia.

*Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Holfurte, Sir Walter Blunt, and others.*

*King.* My blood hath beene too cold and temperate, Vnapt to ſtirre at the ſebe indignities, And you haue found me; for accordingly, You tread vpon my patience: But be ſure, I will from henceforth rather be my ſelfe, Mighty, and to be fear'd, then my condition Which hath beene ſmooth as Oyle, ſoft as yong Downe, And therefore loft that Title of reſpect, Which the proud ſoule ne're payes, but to the proud.

*War.* Our house (my Soueraigne Liege) little deferues The ſcourge of greatneſſe to be vſed on it, And that fame greatneſſe too, which our owne hands Haue holpe to make ſo portly.

*Nor.* My Lord.

*King.* Worcester get thee gone: for I do ſee Danger and difobedience in thine eye. O fir, your preference is too bold and peremptory, And Maiſtie might neuer yet endure The moody Frontier of a ſeruant brow, You haue good leaue to leaue vs. When we need Your vſe and counſell, we ſhall ſend for you. You were about to ſpeake.

*North.* Yea, my good Lord.

Thee.

51

Thoſe Prifoners in your Highneſſe demanded,
Which Harry Percy heere at Holmedon tooke,
Were (as he (ayes) not with ſuch ſtrength denied
As was deliuered to your Maieſtly :
Who either through enuy, or miſprifion,
Was guilty of this ſault; and not my Sonne.

Hot. My Liege, I did deny no Prifoners.

But, I remember when the fight was done,
When I was dry with Rage, and extreame Toyle,
Breathleſſe, and Faint, leaning vpon my Sword,
Came there a certaine Lord, neat and trimly drest;
Freſh as a Bride-groome, and his Chin new reapt,
Shew'd like a flubble Land at Haruelſt home.

He was perfumed like a Milliner,
And twixt his Finger and his Thumbe, he held
A Pouncter-box: which euer and anon
He gaue his Nofe, and took't away againe:
Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Tooke it in Suuſe. And fill he ſmil'd and talk'd
And as the Souldiers bare dead bodies by,
He call'd them vntaught Knaues, Vnnamnerely,
To bring a ſlouenly vnhandſome Coarſe
Betwixt the Winde, and his Nobility.

With many a Holiday and Lady tearme

His queſtione me: Among the reſt, demanded
My Prifoners, in your Maieſties behalſe.

I then, all ſmarting, with my wounds being cold,
(To be ſo peltered with a Popingay)

Out of my Impatience,
Anſwer'd (neglectingly) I know not what,
He should, or should not: For he made me mad,
To ſe him ſhine ſo buſke, and ſmell ſo ſweet,
And talke ſo like a Waiting-Gentlewoman,
Of Guns, & Drums, and Wounds: God faue the marke;
And telling me, the Soueraigne ſt' thing on earth
Was Parmacity, for an inward bruife:

And that it was great pitty, ſo it was,
That villanous Salt-peter ſhould be diſg'd
Out of the Bowels of the harmleſſe Earth,
Which many a good Tall Fellow had deſtroy'd
So cowardly. And but for theſe vile Gunnes,
He would himſelfe haue beene a Souldier.

This bald, vnioynted Chat of his (my Lord)
Made me to anſwer indirectly (as I laid.)

And I beſeeth you, let not this report
Come currant for an Accufation,
Betwixt my Loue, and your high Maieſty.

Blunt. The circumſtance considered, good my Lord,

What euer Harry Percie then had ſaid,
To ſuch a perſon, and in ſuch a place,
At ſuch a time, with all the reſt reſtold,
May reaſonably dye, and neuer rife
To do him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he ſaid, ſo he vnyſt it now.

King. Why yet doth deny his Prifoners,

But with Proniſo and Exception,
That we at our owne charge, ſhall ransome ſtraight
His Brother-in-Law, the fooliſh Mortimer,
Who (in my ſoule) hath wilfully berraid
The lines of thofe, that he did leade to Fight,

Again the great Magitian, damn'd Glendower:
Whoſe daughter (as we heare) the Earle of March
Hath lately married. Shall our Coffers then,
Be emptied, to redeem a Traitor home?

Shall we buy Treason and indent with Fears,
When they haue loft and forſeied themſelues.

No: on the barren Mountaine let him ſtert:
For I shall neuer hold that man my Friend;
Whofe tongue ſhall aske me for one peny coſt
To ransome home reuolted Mortimer.

Hot. Reuolted Mortimer?

He neuer did fall off, my Soueraigne Liege,
But by the chance of Warre: to proue that true,
Needs no more but one tongue. For all thoſe Wounds,
Thoſe mouthed Wounds, which valiantly he tooke,
When on the gentle Seuernes ſiedgie banke,
In ſingle Oppofition hand to hand,
He did confound the beſt part of an houre
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:

Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink
Vpon agreement, of Swiſt Seuernes flood;

Who then affrighted with their bloody lookes,
Ran fearefully among the trembling Reeds,
And hid his crifiſe-head in the hollow banke,
Blood-stained with theſe Valiant Combatants.

Neuer did bafe and rotten Policy

Colour her working with ſuch deadly wounds;
Nor neuer could the Noble Mortimer

Receiue ſo many, and all willingly:

Then let him not be flattered with Reuolt.

King. Thou do'st bely him Percy, thou doſt bely him!

He neuer did encounter with Glendower:

I tell thee, he durſt as well haue met the diuell alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

Art thou not aſham'd? But Sirrah, henceforth

Let me not heare you ſpeake of Mortimer.

Send me your Prifoners with the ſpeedieſt meaneſ,
Or you ſhall heare in ſuch a kinde from me

As will diſpleafe ye. My Lord Northumberland,

We Liceſe your departure with your ſonne,

Send vs your Prifoners, or you'l heare of it.

Exit King.

Hot. And if the diuell come and roare for them

I will not ſend them. I will after ſtraight

And tell him ſo: for I will eafe my heart,

Although it be with hazard of my head.

Nor. What? drunke with choller'stay & paſte awhile,

Enter Worceſter.

Hot. ſpeake of Mortimer?

Yes, I will ſpeake of him, and let my ſoule

Want mercry, if I do not ioyne with him.

In his behalſe, Ile empty all theſe Veines,

And ſhed my deere blood drop by drop i'th duſt,

But I will life the downfall Mortimer

As high i'th Ayre, as this Vnthankfull King,

As this Ingrate and Cankred Bullingbrooke.

Nor. Brother, the King hath made your Nephew mad

Wor. Who ſtrooke this heate vp after I was gone ?

Hot. He will (forlooth) haue all my Prifoners :

And when I vrg'd the ransom once againe

Of my Wiues Brother, then his cheeke look'd pale,

And on my face he turn'd arreye of death,

Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

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

By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?

Nor. He was: I heard the Proclamation,

And then it was, when the vnhappy King
(Whofe wrongs in vs God pardon) did let forth

Vpon his Irish Expedition:

From whence he intercepted, did returne

To be depos'd, and shortly murthered.

Wor. And for whoſe death, we in the worlds wide mouth

Line Icandaliz'd, and fouly ſpoken of.

e

Hot.

Hot. But soft I pray you; did King Richard then Proclaime my brother Mortimer, Heyre to the Crowne?

Nor. He did, my selfe did heare it.

Hot. Nay then I cannot blame his Coufin King, That wifh'd him on the barren Mountaines faru'd. But shall it be, that you that fet the Crowne Vpon the head of this forgetfull man, And for his fake, wore the dereft blot Of murtherous subformation? Shall it be, That you a world of curfes vndergo, Being the Agents, or bafe secong means, The Cords, the Ladder, or the Hangman rather ? O pardon, if that I descend so low, To shew the Line, and the Predicament Wherein you range vnder this subtill King. Shall it for fame, be spoken in these dayes, Or fill vp Chronicles in time to come, That men of your Nobility and Power, Did gage them both in an vnuitl behalfe

(As Both of you, God pardon it, haue done)
To put downe Richard, that sweet louely Rose,
And plant this Thorne, this Canker Bullingbrooke?
And shall it in more fame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and shooke off
By him, for whom these fame's ye vnderwent?
No: yet time serves, wherein you may redeem
Your banifh'd Honors, and restore your felues
Into the good Thoughts of the world againe.
Reuence the geering and difdain'd contempt
Of this proud King, who studies day and night
To anfwer all the Debt he owes vnto you,
Euen with the bloody Payment of your deaths:
Therefore I fay—

Wor. Peace Cousin, fay no more.
And now I will vnclasp a Secret booke,
And to your quicke conceyuing Discontents,
Ile reade you Matter, deepe and dangerous,
As full of perill and aduenturou Spirit,
As to ore-walke a Current, roaring loud
On the vnstedfast footing of a Speare.

Hot. If he fall in, good night, or finke or swimme:
Send danger from the East vnto the West,
So Honor croſſe it from the North to South,
And let them grapple : The blood more stirres
Torowze a Lyon, then to start a Hare.

Nor. Imagination of ſome great exploit,
Draues him beyond the bounds of Patience.

Hot. By heauen, me thinkes it were an eafe leap,
To plucke bright Honor from the pale-fac'd Moone,
Or diue into the bottome of the deepe,
Where Fadome-line could neuer touch the ground,
And plucke vp drowned Honor by the Locke:
So he that doth redeem her thence, might weare
Without Co-riuall, all her Dignities:
But out vpon this halfe-fac'd Fellowship.

Wor. He apprehends a World of Figures here,
But not the forme of what he should attend :
Good Cousin giue me audience for a-while,
And lift to me.

Hot. I cry you mercy.

Wor. Thofe fame Noble Scottes
That are your Prifoners.

Hot. He keepe them all.

By heauen, he shall not haue a Scot of them:
No, if a Scot would faue his Soule, he shall nor.

Ile keepe them, by this Hand.

Wor. You start away,
And lend no eare vnto my purposes.
Thofe Prifoners you shall keepe.

Hot. Nay, I will; that's flat :
He faid, he would not ransome Mortimer:
Forbad my tongue to ſpeak of Mortimer.
But I will finde him when he lyes aſſlee,
And in his eare, Ile holla Mortimer.
Nay, Ile baue a Starling ſhall be taught to ſpeak
Nothing but Mortimer, and giue it him,
To keepe his anger full in motion.

Wor. Heare you Cousin : a word,
Hot. All studies heere I solemnly deſtie,
Saue how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrooke,
And that fame Sword and Buckler Prince of Wales,
But that I thinke his Father loues him not,
And would be glad he met with ſome miſchance,
I would haue poyſon'd him with a pot of Ale.

Wor. Farewell Kinſinan : Ile talk to you
When you are better temper'd to attend.

Nor. Why what a Wafpe-tongu'd & impatient foon
Art thou, to breake into this Womans mood,
Tying thine eare to no tongue but thine owne?

Hot. Why look you, I am whipt & ſcourg'd with rodi,
Netled, and ſtung with Pismires, when I heare
Of this vile Politician Bullingbrooke.

In Richards time: What de'ye call the place?
A plague vpon't, it is in Glouſterſhire :
'Twas, where the madcap Duke his Vncle kept,
His Vncle Yorke, where I firſt bow'd my knee
Vnto this King of Smiles, this Bullingbrooke:

When you and he came backe from Rauenspurgh.

Nor. At Barkley Castle.

Hot. You ſay true:

Why what a caudie deale of curſeſe,
This fawning Grey-hound then did proffer me.
Looke when his infant Fortune came to age,
And gentle Harry Percy, and kinde Cousin :
O, the Diuill take ſuch Couzeners, God forgieme,
Good Vncle tell your tale, for I haue done.

Wor. Nay, if you haue not, too't againe,

Wee'l ſay your leyſure.

Hot. I haue done inſooth.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish Prifoners.
Deliver them vp without their ransome ſtraight,
And make the Dowglas ſonne your onely meane
For powres in Scotland : which for diuers reaſons
Which I ſhall ſend you written, be aſſur'd
Will eafly be granted you, my Lord.

Your Sonne in Scotland being thus impl'd,
Shall secretly into the boſome creepe
Of that fame noble Prelate, well belou'd,
The Archbiſhop.

Hot. Of Yorke, is't not?

Wor. True, who beares hard
His Brothers death at Bristow, the Lord Scrope.
I ſpeak not this in eſtimation,
As what I thinke might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted, and ſet downe,
And onely ſtayes but to behold the face
Of that occation that ſhall bring it on.

Hot. I ſmell it:
Vpon my life, it will do wond'rous well.

Nor. Before the game's a-foot, thou ſhalt let it flip.

Hot. Why, it cannot choofe but be a Noble plot,

53

And then the power of Scotland, and of Yorke
To ioyne with Mortimer, Ha.
Wer. And so they shall.

Wer. In faith it is exceedingly well aym'd.

Wer. And 'tis no little reafon bids vs speed,

To faue our heads, by raising of a Head:
For, bear our felues as euen as we can,
The King will alwayse thinke him in our debt,
And thinke, we thinke our felues vnfatistied,
Till he hath found a time to pay vs home.

And fee already, how he doth beginne
To make vs strengers to his lookes of loue.

Wer. He does, he does; weel be reueng'd on him.

Wer. Coufin, farewell. No further go in this,

Then I by Letters shall direct your course

When time is ripe, which will be sodainly:

Ile feale to Glendower, and Ioe, Mortimer,

Where you, and Dowglas, and our powres at once,

As I will fashion it, shall happily meete,

To beare our fortunes in our owne strong armes,

Which now we hold at much vncertainty.

Nor. Farewell good Brother, we shall thrive, I trust.

Wer. Uncle, adieu: O let the houres be short,

Till fields, and blowes, and grones, applaud our sport exit

ding in the stable.

1. Car. Nay soft I pray ye, I know a trick worth two of that.

Gad. I prethee lend me thine.

2. Car. I, when, canst tell ? Lend mee thy Lanthorne (quoth a) marry Ile fee thee hang'd first.

Gad. Sir, Carrier: What time do you mean to come to London?

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

Exeunt

Enter Chamberlaine.

Gad. What ho, Chamberlaine?

Cham. At hand quoth Pick-purse.

Gad. That's even as faire, as at hand quoth the Chamberlaine: For thou varieft no more from picking of Purse, then giuing direction, doth from labouring. Thou lay it the plot, how?

Cham. Good morrow Master Gads-Hill, it holds current that I told you yesternight. There's a Franklin in the wilde of Kent, hath brought three hundred Markes with him in Gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company laft night at Supper; a kinde of Auditor, one that hath abundance of charge too (God knowes what) they are vp already, and call for Egges and Butter. They will away prefently.

Gad. Sirra, if they meete not with S. Nicholas Clarks, Ile give thee this necke.

Cham. No, Ile none of it: I prythee keep that for the Hangman, for I know thou worshipt S. Nicholas as truly as a man of falfhood may.

Gad. What talkeft thou to me of the Hangman? If I hang, Ile make a fat payre of Gallowes. For, if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou know't hee's no Statueling. Tut, there are other Troians that I dreamt not of, the which (for sport false) are content to doe the Profection fome grace; that would (if matters should bee look'd into) for their owne Credit (false, make all Whole. I am ioyned with no Foot-land-Rakers, no Long-faffe fix-penny strikers, none of these mad Muffachio-purpler-hu'd-Maltwormes, but with Nobility, and Tranquilitie; Bourgomafters, and great Oneyers, such as can holde in, such as will strike sooner then speake; and speake sooner then drinke, and drinke sooner then pray: and yet I lye, for they pray continually vnto their Saint the Commonwealth; or rather, not to pray to her, but prey on her; for they ride vp & downe on her, and make hit their Boots.

Cham. What, the Commonwealth their Bootes? Will she hold our water in foule way?

Gad. She will, she will; Iuſtice hath liquor'd her. We feale as in a Caſtle, cockſure: we haue the receit of Fernſeed, we walke inuſible.

Cham. Nay, I thinke rather, you are more beholding to the Night, then to the Fernſeed, for your walking inuſible.

Gad. Giues me thy hand.

Thou shalt haue a share in our purpese,

As I am a true man.

Cham. Nay, rather let ance haue it, as you are a false Theefe.

Gad. Goo too: Hemo is a common name to all men. Bid the Oſtler bring the Gelding out of the stable. Farewell, ye muddy Knaue.

Exeunt.

Scena

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Carrier with a Lanterne in his hand.

1. Car. Heigh-ho, an't be not foure by the day, He be hang'd. Charles waine is ouer the new Chimney, and yet our horse not packt. What Oſtler?

Oſt. Anon, anon.

1. Car. I prethee Tom, beate Cuts Saddle, put a few Flockes in the point: the poore Iade is wrung in the wathers, out of all ceffe.

Enter another Carrier.

2. Car. Pease and Beanes are as danke here as a Dog, and this is the next way to giue poore lades the Bottes: This houſe is turned vpſide downe since Robin the Oſtler dyed.

1. Car. Poore fellow neuer ioy'd ſince the price of oats toſe, it was the death of him.

2. Car. I thinke this is the moſt villanious houſe in al London rode for Fleas: I am ſtung like a Tench?

1. Car. Like a Tench? There is ne're a King in Christendome, could be better bit, then I haue beene ſince the first Cocke.

2. Car. Why, you will allow vs ne're a Tourden, and then we leake in your Chimney: and your Chamber-lye breeds Fleas like a Loach.

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

2. Car. I haue a Gammon of Bacon, and two razes of Ginger, to be delivered as faire as Charing-croſſe.

1. Car. The Turkies in my Pannier are quite starued. What Oſtler? A plague on thee, haſt thou neuer an eye in thy head? Can't heare it? And t'were not as good a deed as drinke, to break the pace of thee, I am a very Vil-laine. Come and be hang'd, haſt no faith in thee?

Enter Gads-bill.

Gad. Good-morrow Carriers. What's a clocke?

Car. I think't, but two a clocke.

Gad. I prethee lend me thy Lanthorne to see my Geld

54

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Prince, Poynes, and Peto.

Poynes. Come shelter, shelter, I haue remoued Falfstafe Horfe, and he frets like a gum'd Veluet.

Prin. Stand close.

Euter Falfstaffe.

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

Prin. Peace ye fat-kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling doft thou keepe.

Fal. What Poynes, Hal?

Prin. He is walk'd vp to the top of the hill, Ile go seek him.

Fal. I am accurst to rob in that Theefe company: that Rascall hath remoued my Horfe, and tied him I know not where. If I trauell but foure foot by the Squire further a foote, I shall breake my winde. Well, I doubt not but to dye a faire death for all this, if I apepe hanging for killing that Rogue, I haue forsworne his company hourly any time this two and twenty yeare, & yet I am bewitcht with the Rogues company. If the Rascall haue not giuen me medicines to make me lonee him, Ile behang'd; it could not be else: I haue drunke Medicines. Poynes, Hal, a Plague vpon you both. Bardolph, Peto: Ile starre ere I rob a foote further. And 'twere not as good a deede as to drinke, to turne True-man, and to leaue thefe Rogues, I am the verieft Varlet that euer chewed with a Tooth. Eight yards of vneuen ground, is threecore & ten miles afoot with me: and the stony-hearted Villaines know it well enough. A plague vpon't, when Theeues cannot be true one to another. They Whistle.

Whew: a plague light vpon you all, Giue my Horfe you Rogues: giue me my Horfe, and be hang'd.

Prin. Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare close to the ground, and lift if thou can heare the tread of Trauellers.

Fal. Haue you any Leauers to lift me vp again being downe? Ile not beare mine owne flesh so far afoot again, for all the coine in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague meane yeto colt me thus?

Prin. Thou ly'st, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted.

Fal. I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horfe, good Kings fonne.

Prin. Out you Rogue, shall I be your Oftler?

Fal. Go hang thy selfe in thine owne heire-apparant-Garters: If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I haue not Ballads made on all, and fung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of Sake be my poyfon: when a iest is so forward, & a foote too, I hate it.

Enter Gads-hill.

Gad. Stand.

Fal. So I do against my will.

Poi. O'tis our Setter, I know his voyce :

Bardolfa, what newes?

Bar. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your Vizards, there's mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going to the Kings Exchequer.

Fal. You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tauern.

Gad. There's enough to make vs all.

Fal. To he hang'd.

Prin. You foure shall front them in the narrow Lane. Ned and I, will walke lower; if they apepe from your eares, counter, then they light on vs.

Peto. But how many be of them?

Gad. Some eight or ten.

Fal. Will they not rob vs?

Prin. What, a Coward Sir John Paunch?

Fal. Indeed I am not John of Gaunt your Grandfather, but yet no Coward, Hal.

Prin. Wee'll leaue that to the proofe.

Poi. Sirra Iacke, thy horfe stands behinde the helg, when thou need'st it him, there thou shall finde him. Fattwell, and stand fast.

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd.

Prin. Ned, where are our disguifes?

Poi. Heere hard by: Stand close.

Fal. Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, lay me every man to his businesse.

Enter Trauellers.

Tra. Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horſe downe the hill: Wee'll walke a-foot a while, and eale our Legges.

Theeues. Stay.

Tra. Iefu bleſſe vs.

Fal. Strike down with them, cut the villaines throats, a whorſon Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaues, they hate you youth; downe with them, fleece them.

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

Fal. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No ye Fat Chuffes, I would your flore were here. On Bocon, on, what ye knaues? Yong men muſt lue, you are Grand Lureurs, are ye? Wee'l iure ye iſaith.

Heere they rob them, and binde them. Enter the Prince and Poynes.

Prin. The Theeues haue bound the True-men: Now could thou and I rob the Theeues, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a Weeke, Lauglerture Moneth, and a good ieſt for euer.

Poynes. Stand close, I heare them comming.

Enter Theeues againe.

Fal. Come my Maſters, let vs share, and then to heriſ before day: and the Prince and Poynes bee not two nor rand Cowards, there's no equity ſtricring. There's no moſt valour in that Poynes, than in a wilde Ducke.

Prin. Your money.

Poi. Villaines.

As they are sharing the Prince and Poynes ſet vpon them.

They all run away, leaving the bootsy behind them.

Prince. Got with much eafe. Now merrily to Horſe. The Theeues are ſcattr'd, and poſſet with fear to ſtrongly, that they dare not meet each other: each takes his iſt low for an Officer. Away good Ned, Falfaffeſte weares his death, and Lards the leane earth as he walkes along, were not for laughing, I should pitty him.

Poi. How the Rogue roar'd.

Excuse.

## Scæna Tertia.

Enter Hoffpurre solues, reading a Letter.

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

55

He could be contented: Why is he not then in respect of
the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues
his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me
fee some more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous.
Why that's certaine : This dangerous to take a Colde, to
lieepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of
this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety. The
purpose you undertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue na-
med uncertaine, the Time it selfe vnforsbed, and your whole
Plot too light, for the counterpoise of so great an Opposition.
Say you to, say you so: I lay vnto you againe, you are a
 shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lacke-
beaine is this? I protecſt, our plot is as good a plot as euer
was laid; our friend true and conſtant : A good Plout,
good Friends, and full of expeſation: An excellent plot,
very good Friends. What a Froſty-ſpirited rogue is this?
Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the
generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now
by this Raſcail, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.
Is there not my Father, my Vnckle, and my Selfe, Lord
Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of Torke, and Owen Glendour?
Is there not bides ſefide, the Dowglad? Hauing not all their let-
ters, to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Mo-
neh? and are they not ſome of them ſet forward already?
Why a Pagan Raſcall is this? An Inſide Il. Ha, you ſhall
liee now in very ſincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he
to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could
divide my ſelfe, and go to buffets, for mouing ſuch a diſh
of skim'd Milk with ſo honourable an Action. Hang him,
let him tell the King we are prepared. I will ſet forwards
to night.

Enter his Lady.

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

La. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence haue I this fortnight bin
a banifh'd woman from my Harries bed?
Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee
Thy fomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe?
Why doſt thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?
And start ſo often when thou firſt'ſt alone?
Why haſt thou loſt the fresh blood in thy cheeks?
And guien my Treasures and my rights of thee,
To thicke-ey'd muſing, and curſt-melancholly?
In my ſaint-flumbers, I by thee haue watcht,
And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres:
Speake learnes of manage to thy bounding Steed,
Cry courage to the field. And thou haſt talk'd
Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents,
Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets,
Of Bafilskes, of Canon, Culuerin,
Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers ſlaine,
And all the current of a heady fight.

Thy ſpirit within thee hath beene ſo at Warre,
And thus hath ſo firſt'd thee in thy sleepe,
That beds of weareth hath ſood vpon thy Brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed Streame;
And in thy face ſtrange motions haue appear'd,
Such as we fee when men refraine their breath
On ſome great ſodaine haſt. O what portents are theſe?
Some haue buſineſſe hath my Lord in hand,
And I muſt know it: eſſe they loues me not.

Hot. What ho ; is Gilliams with the Packet gone ?
Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone.

Hot, Hath Butler brought those horſes frö the Sheriffe?

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

Hot. What Horſe? A Roane, a crop care, is it not,

Ser. It is my Lord.

Hot. That Roane shall be my Throre. Well, I will
backe him ſtraight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth
into the Parke.

La. But heare you, my Lord.

Hot. What ſay'ſt thou my Lady ?

La. What is it carries you away ?

Hot. Why, my horſe (my Loue) my horſe.

La. Out you mad-headed Ape, a Weazell hath not
such a deale of Spleene, as you are toſt with. In ſooth Ile
know your buſineſſe Harry, that I will. I feare my Bro-
ther Mortimer doth ſirre about his Title, and hath ſent
for you to line his enterprize. But if you go—

Hot. So farre a foot, I ſhall be weary, Loue.

La. Come, come, you Paraquito, anſwer me directly
vnto this queſtion, that I ſhall aske. Indeede I breake
thy little finger Harry, if thou wile not to me true.

Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not,
I care not for thee Kate: this is no world
To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.

We muſt haue bloodie Nofes, and crack'd Crownes,
And pafle them currant too. Gods me, my horſe.

What ſay'ſt thou Kate? what wold'ſt thou haue with me?

La. Doye not loue me? Doye not indeed?

Well, do not then. For ſince you loue me not,

I will not loue my ſelfe. Do you not loue me?

Nay, tell me if thou ſpeak'ſt in ieſt, or no.

Hot. Come, wilt thou ſee me ride?

And when I am a horsebacke, I will ſweare
I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate,
I muſt not haue you henceforth, queſtion me,
Whether I go: nor reaſon whereabout.

Whether I muſt, I muſt: and to conclude,
This Euening muſt I leaue thee, gentle Kate.

I know you wife, but yet no further wife

Then Harry Percies wife. Conſtant you are,

But yet a woman: and for ſecreſtie,

No Lady cloſer. For I will beleeue

Thou wilt not vutter what thou do'ſt not know,

And ſo farre wilt I truſt thee, gentle Kate.

La. How ſo farre?

Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate,
Whither I go, thitheſt shall you go too:

To day will I ſet forth, to morrow you.

Will this content you Kate?

La. It muſt of force.

Excuse

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Prince and Poines.

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

Poines. Where haſt bene Hall?

Prin. With three or ſoure Logger-heads, amongſt 3.
or ſourefcore Hogsheads. I haue founded the verie baſe
ſtring of humilität. Sirra, I am ſworn brother to a leaſh of
Drawers, and can call them by their names, as Tom, Dicke,
and Francia. They take it already vpon their confidence,
that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King
of Curteſe: ſtelling me flatly I am no proud lacke like Fal-
ſaffe, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, and
when I am King of England, I ſhall command at the good
Laddes in Eaſt-cheape. They call drinking deepe, dy-
ing Scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, then
they

e 3

56 The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.

they cry hem, and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am
so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can
drink with any Tinker in his own Language during my
life. I tell thee Ned, thou haft loft much honor, that thou
wer't not with me in this action: but sweet Ned, to sweet-
ten which name of Ned, I giue thee this ponivorth of Su-
gar, clapt euen now into my hand by an vnder Skinker,
one that neuer spake other English in his life, then Eight
shottings and fix pence, and, You are welcome: with this filr
addition, Anon, Anon fir, Store a Pint of Bastard in the
Halfe Moone, or to. But Ned, to drive away time till Fal-
ſaffe come, I prythee doe thou ſtand in some by-roume,
while I queſtion my puny Drawer, to what end hee gaue
me the Sugar, and do neuer leaue calling Francis, that his
Tale to me may be nothing but, Anon: step aside, and Ile
ſhew thee a President.

Poiners: Francis.

Prin: 'Thou art perfect.'

Poin: Francis.

Enter Drawer.

Fran. Anon, anon fir; looke downe into the Pomgar-
net, Ralfe.

Prince. Come hither Francis.

Fran. My Lord.

Prin: How long haſt thou to ſerve, Francis?

Fran. Forfoorth ſive yeares, and as much as to—

Poin. Francis.

Fran. Anon, anon fir.

Fran. Fife yeares: Berlady a long Leafe for the clini-
king of Pewter. But Francis, dareſt thou be so valiant, as
to play the coward with thy Indenture, & ſhew it a faire
paire of heeles, and run from it?

Fran. O Lord fir, Ile be ſworne vpon all the Books in
England, I could finde in my heart.

Poin: Francis.

Fran. Anon, anon fir.

Prin: How old art thou, Francis ?

Fran. Let me fee, about Michaelmas next I ſhalbe—

Poin. Francis.

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

Prin. Nay but harke you Francis, for the Sugar thou
gauſet me,*twas a penyworth, was't not?

Fran. O Lord fir, I would it had bene two.

Prin. I will giue thee for it a thouſand pound: Aske me when thou wilt, and thou ſhalt haue it.

Poin. Francis.

Fran. Anon, anon.

Prin. Anon Francis? No Francis, but to morrow Fran-
cis: or Francis, on thurſday: or indeed Francis when thou
wilt. But Francis.

Fran. My Lord.

Prin. Wilt thou rob this Leathorne Ierkin, Chriſtall
button, Not-pated, Agat ring, Puke ſocking, Caddice
garter, Smooth tongue, Spanith pouch,

Fran. O Lord fir, who do you meane ?

Prin. Why then your browne Bastard is your only
drinker: for looke you Francis, your white Canuas doub-
let will ſulſey. In Barbary fir, it cannot come to ſo much.

Fran. What fir?

Poin. Francis.

Prin. Away you Rogue, doſt thou heare them call ?

Here they bath call him, the Drawer stands amazed,
not knowing which way to go.

Enter Vintner.

Vint. What, stand it thou ſtill, and hear it ſuch a cal-

ling ? Looker to the Gueſts within: My Lord, oldest
John with halſe a dozen more, are at the door: I shall let
them in?

Prin. Let them alone a while, and then open the door.
Poines: Enter Paines.

Poin. Anon, anon fir.

Prin. Sirra, Falſaffe and the rest of the Theenes, are at
the door, shall we be merry?

Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lads. But harke mee.
What cunning match haue you made with this icht of the
Drawer? Come, what's the iltſue?

Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue ſhewed them
felues humors, since the old dayes of goodman Adam, to
the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight,
What's a clocke Francis?

Fran. Anon, anon fir.

Prin. That euer this Fellow ſhould haue ſewer words
then a Parret, and yet the ſonne of a Woman. His indu-
ſury is vp-ſtaires and down-ſtaires, his eloquence the pat-
cell of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percies mind, the Hor-
ſpurre of the North, he that killes me ſome fixe or leauen
dozen of Scots at a Breakſaft, washes his hands, and failes
to his wife; Fie vpon this quiet life, I want worke. O my
sweet Harry ſayes he, how many haſt thou kill to day?
Gie me my Roane horſe a drench (layes hee) and anſwers,
some fourteene, an hour after: a trifle, a trifle. I prethee
call in Falſaffe, Ile play Percy, and thor damn'd Brawne
ſhall play Dame Mortimer his wife, Riso, ſayes the drun-
kard. Call in Ribs, call in Tallow.

Enter Falſaffe.

Poin. Welcome Iacke, where haſt thou beene?

Fal. A plague of all Cowards I ſay, and a Vengence
too, marry and Amen. Giue me a cup of Sacke Boy. Ere
I leade this life long, Ile ſowe nether Rockes, and end
them too. A plague of all cowards. Giue me a Cup of
Sacke, Rogue. Is there no Vertue extant?

Prin. Didſt thou neuer ſee Titan kiffe a diſh of Butter,
pittifull hearted Titan that melted at the swecte Tale of
the Sunne? If thou didſt, then behold that compound.

Fal. You Rogue, here's Lime in this Sacke too: there
is nothing but Roguery to be found in Villanous manjer
a Coward is worſe then a Cup of Sack with lime. A vir-
lanous Coward, go thy wayes old Iacke, die when thou
wilt, if manhood, good manhood be not forgot vpon the
face of the earth, then am I a ſhotten Herring; there lies
not three good men vnhang'd in England, & one of them
is fat, and growes old, God helpe the while, a bad world
ſay. I would I were a Weauer, I could ſing all manner of
ſongs. A plague of all Cowards, I ſay ſtill.

Prin. How now Woolſacke, what matter you?

Fal. A Kings Sonne? If I do not beate thee out of thy
Kingdome with a dagger of Lath, and drue all thy Sub-
jeets afore thee like a flocke of Wilde-geefe, Ile never
weare haire on my face more. You Prince of Wales?

Prin. Why you horſon round man what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a Coward? Anſwer me to that, and
Paines there?

Prin. Ye fatch paunch, and yee call mee Coward, I
ſtab thee.

Fal. I call thee Coward? Ile fee thee damn'd ere I call
the Coward: but I would giue a thouſand pound I could
run as ſaſt as thou canst. You are straight enough in the
shoulders, you care not who fees your backe: Call you
that

The First Part of Henry the Fourth.

57

that backing of your friends ? a plague vpon such backing: giue them that will face me. Giue me a Cup of Sack; I am a Rogue if I drunke to day.

Prince. O Villaine, thy Lippes are scarce wip'd, since thou drunk't it laft.

Falſt. All's one for that.

He drinks.

A plague of all Cowards still, lay I.

Prince. What's the matter ?

Falſt. What's the matter ? here is foure of vs, haue a
tane thouand pound this Morning.

Prince. Where is it, Jack ? where is it ?

Falſt. Where is it ? taken from vs, it is: a hundred
upon poore foure of vs.

Prince. What, a hundred, man ?

Falſt. I am a Rogue, if I were not at halfe Sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I haue scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the Doublet, foure through the Hafe, my Buckler cut through and through, my Sword hackt like a Hand-faw, ecce fignum. I neuer dealt better since I was a man: all would not doe. A plague of all Cowards: let them ſpeake; if they ſpeake more or leſſe then truth, they are villaines, and the fonnes of darkneſſe.

Prince. Speake firs, how was it ?

Gad. We foure ſet vpon ſome dozen.

Falſt. Sixteene, at leaſt, my Lord.

Gad. And bound them.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound.

Falſt. You Rogue, they were bound, every man of them, or I am a lew elfe, an Ebreu Iew.

Gad. As we were sharing, some fixe or ſeuen frein men
ſet vpon vs.

Falſt. And vnbound the reſt, and then come in the others.

Prince. What, fought yee with them all ?

Falſt. All? I know not what yee call all : but if I fought not with fiftie of them, I am a bunch of Radifn: if there were not two or three and fiftie vpon poore olde Jack, then am I no two-legg'd Creature.

Poin. Pray Heauen, you haue not marthered ſome of them.

Falſt. Nay, that's paſt praying for, I haue pepper'd two of them: Two I am ſure I haue payed, two Rogues in Buckrom Sutes. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a Lye, ſpit in my face, call me Horſe: thou knoweſt my olde word: here I lay, and thus I bore my point; ſoure Rogues in Buckrom let drive at me.

Prince. What, ſoure? thou ſayd it but two, euen now.

Falſt. Foure Hal, I told thee ſoure.

Pom. I, I, he ſaid ſoure.

Falſt. These ſoure came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me; I made no more adoe, but tooke all their ſeuen points in my Targuet, thus.

Prince. Seuen ? why there were but ſoure, euen now.

Falſt. In Buckrom.

Poin. I, ſoure, in Buckrom Sutes.

Falſt. Seuen, by theſe Hilts, or I am a Villaine elfe.

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

Falſt. Doeſt thou heare me, Hal ?

Prin. I, and matke thee too, Jack.

Falſt. Doe ſo, for it is worth the lichtning too: theſe
nine in Buckrom, that I told thee of.

Prin. So, two more already.

Falſt. Their Points being broken.

Pom. Downe fell his Horſe.

Falſt. Began to giue me ground: but I followed me

cloſe, came in foot and hand; and with a thought, ſeuen of the eleuen I pay'd.

Prin. O monſtrous! eleuen Buckrom men growne out of two ?

Falſt. But as the Deuill would haue it, three miſ-be-
gotten Knaues, in Kendall Greene, came at my Back, and
let drive at me; for it was so darke, Hal, that thou couldst
not fee thy Hand.

Prin. These Lyes are like the Father that begets them,
groſſe as a Mountaine, open, palpable. Why thou Clay-
brayn'd Guts, thou Knotty-pated Foole, thou Horſon ob-
ſcene greaſie Tallow Catch.

Falſt. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the
truth, the truth?

Prin. Why, how couldst thou know theſe men in Kendall Greene, when it was so darke, thou couldst not fee thy Hand? Come, tell vs your reaſon: what ſay'ſt thou to this?

Poin. Come, your reaſon Jack, your reaſon.

Falſt. What, vpon compulſion ? No: were I at the Strappado, or all the Racks in the World, I would not tell you on compulſion. Giue you a reaſon on compulſion? If Reaſons were as plentie as Black-berries, I would giue no man a Reaſon vpon compulſion, I.

Prin. He be no longer guiltie of this finne. This ſan-
guine Coward, this Bed-preſſer, this Horſ-back-breaker,
this huge Hill of Fleſh.

Falſt. Awaу you Starueling, you Elſe-skin, you dried Neats tongue, Bulles-piſſell, you ſtocke-ſin: O for breath to vtter. What is like thee? You Tailors yard, you ſhewe you Bow-caſe, you vile ſtanding tucke.

Prin. Well, breathe a-while, and then to't againe: and when thou haſt tyr' d thy ſelfe in bafe comparions, heare me ſpeake but thus.

Poin. Marke lacke.

Prin. We two, ſaw you ſoure ſet on ſoure, and bound them, and were Maſters of their Wealſh: mark now how a plaine Tale ſhall put you downe. Then did we two, ſet on you ſoure, and with a word, outſac'd you from your prize, and haue it: yea, and can ſhow it you in the Horſe. And Falſaſſe, you caried your Guts away as nimbly, with as quicke dexteritie, and roared for mercy, and ſtill ranne and roar'd, as euer I heard Bull-Calſe. What a Slauer art thou, to hacke thy ſword as thou haſt done, and then ſay it was in fight. What trick? what deuicel? what starting hole canſt thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent ſhame?

Poines. Come, let's heare Iacke : What tricke haſt
thou now?

Fal. I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why heare ye my Maſters, was it for me to kill the Heire apparant? Should I turne vpon the true Prince? Why, thou knoweſt I am as valiant as Hercules : but beware Inſtinſt, the Lion will not touch the true Prince: Inſtinſt is a great matter. I was a Coward on Inſtinſt: I ſhall thinke the better of my ſelfe, and thee, during my life: I, for a valiant Lion, and thou for a true Prince. But Lads, I am glad you haue the Mony. Hofteſſe, clap to the doores: watch to night, pray to morrow. Gallants, Lads, Boyes, Harts of Gold, all the good Titles of Fellow ſhip come to you. What, ſhall we be merry? ſhall we haue a Play extempory.

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

Fal. A, no more of that Hall, and thou loueſt me!

Enter Hofteffe.

Hoft. My Lord, the Prince?

Prin.

58

Prin. How now my Lady the Herteſſe, what sayſt
thou to me?

Herteſſe. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the
Court at door, would ſpeake with you: hee ſayes, hee
comes from your Father.

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

Falt. What manner of man is hee?

Horteſſe. An old man.

Falt. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight?
Shall I giue him his anſwere?

Prin. Prethee doe Iacke.

Falt. Faith, and Ile ſend him packing.

Exit.

Prince. Now Sirs: you fought faire; so did you
Peto, so did you Bardel: you are Lyons too, you ranne
away vpon inſtinct: you will not touch the true Prince;
no; ſie.

Bard. Faith, I ranne when I ſaw others ſunne.

Prin. Tell mee now in earneſt, how came Faltſaffes
Sword ſo hackt?

Pato. Why, he hackt it with his Daguer, and ſaid, hee
would ſweare truth out of England, but hee would make
you beleeue it was done in fight, and perſwaded vs to doe
the like.

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our Noſes with Spear-graſſe,
to make them bleed, and then to beſubble our garments
with it, and ſweare it was the blood of true men. I did
that I did not this ſeuen yeeres before, I bluſht to heare
his monſtrous deuices.

Prin. O Villaine, thou ſtoſeſt a Cup of Sacke eigh-
teene yeeres agoe, and wert taken with the manner, and
euer ſince thou haſt bluſht extempore: thou hadſt fire
and ſword on thy ſide, and yet thou ranſt away; what
inſtinct hadſt thou for it?

Bard. My Lord, doe you fee theſe Meteors ? doe you
behold theſe Exhalations?

Prin. I doe.

Bard. What thinke you they portend ?

Prin. Hot Liuers, and cold Purſes.

Bard. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken.

Prin. No, if rightly taken, Halter.

Enter Faltſaffe.

Heere comes leane Iacke, heere comes bare-bone. How
now my ſweet Creaſure of Bombaſt, how long is't age,
Iacke, ſince thou ſaw't thine owne Knee?

Falt. My owne Knee? When I was about thy yeeres
(Hal) I was not an Eagles Talent in the Wafte, I could
haue crept into any Aldermans Thumbe-Ring: a plague
of ſhiling and griefe, it blowes a man vp like a Bladder.
There's villanous Newes abroad: heere was Sir Iohn
Braby from your Father; you muſt goe to the Court in
the Morning. The fame mad fellow of the North, Percy;
and hee of Wales, that gaue Amamon the Baſtinado,
and made Lucifer Cuckold, and ſwore the Deuill his true
Liege-man vpon the Croſſe of a Welch-hooke; what a
plague call you him?

Pein. O, Glendoyer.

Falt. Owen, Owen; the fame, and his Sonne in Law
Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and the ſprightly
Seat of Scots, Dowglas, that runnes a Horſe-backe vp a
Hill perpendicular.

Prin. Hee that rides at high ſpeede, and with a Piftoll
kills a Sparrow flying.

Falt. You haue hit it.

Prin. So did he neuer the Sparrow.

Falt. Well, that Raſcall hath good mettall in him
hee will not runne.

Prin. Why, what a Raſcall art thou then, to prayſt him
ſo for running?

Falt. A Horſe-backe (ye Cuckoe) but a foot hee will
not budge a foot.

Prin. Yes Iacke, vpon inſtinct.

Falt. I grant ye, vpon inſtinct: Well, hee is there too,
and one Mordake, and a thouſand blew-Cappes more,
Worceſter is toſle away by Night: thy Fathers Beard is
turn'd white with the Newes; you may buy Land now
as cheape as stinking Mackrell.

Prin. Then 'tis like, if there come a hot Sunne, and this
ciuill buffetting hold, wee ſhall buy Maiden-heads at
they buy Hob-nayles, by the Hundreds.

Falt. By the Maſſe Lad, thou ſayſt true, it is like we
ſhall haue good trading that way. But tell me Hal, art
not thou horrible aſear'd? thou being Heire apparant,
could the World picke thee out three such Enemies be-
gaine, as that Fiend Dowglas, that Spirit Percy, and the
Deuill Glendower? Art not thou horrible afraid? Doth
not thy blood thrill at it?

Prin. Not a whit: I lacke some of thy inſtinct.

Falt. Well, thou wilt be horrible chidde to morrow,
when thou commeſt to thy Father: if thou doe loue me,
practife an anſwere.

Prin. Doe thou ſtand for my Father, and examine me
vpon the particulars of my Life.

Falt. Shall I? content: This Chayre ſhall bee my
State, this Daguer my Scepter, and this Cuffion my
Crowne.

Prin. Thy State is taken for a Ioyn'd-Stoole, thy Gal-
den Scepter for a Leaden Daguer, and thy precious rich
Crowne, for a pittifull bald Crowne.

Falt. Well, and the fire of Grace be not quite out of
thee now, ſhalt thou be moued. Giue me a Cup of Sacke
to make mine eyes ſooke redde, that it may be thought
thou haue wept, for I muſt ſpeake in paffion, and I will doe it
in King Cambyſes vaine.

Prin. Well, heere is my Legge.

Falt. And heere is my ſpeech: ſtand aſide Nobilitie.

Horteſſe. This is excellent ſport, yfaith.

Falt. Weepe not, ſweet Queene, for trickling teares
are vaine.

Horteſſe. O the Father, how hee holdes his count-
nance?

Falt. For Gods ſake Lords, conuey my truſtfull Queen
For teares doe ſtop the ſloud-gates of her eyes.

Horteſſe. O rare, he doth it as like one of theſe harlort
Players, as euer I fee.

Falt. Peace good Pint-pot, peace good Tickle-braine,
Harry, I doe not onely maruell where thou ſpendest thy
time; but alſo, how thou art accompanied: For though
the Camomile, the more it is troden, the ſafter it growes
yet Youth, the more it is waſſed, the ſooner it weares.
Thou art my Sonne: I haue partly thy Mothers Word,
partly my Opinion; but chieflyely, a villanous tricke of
thine Eye, and a fooliſh hanging of thy nether Lippe,
that doth warrant me. If then thou be Sonne to mee, heere
lyeth the point: why, being Sonne to me, art thou ſo
poynted at? Shall the bleſſed Sonne of Heauen proue
Micher, and eate Black-berryes? a queſtion not to be
askt. Shall the Sonne of England proue a Theſe, and
take Purſes? a queſtion to be askt. There is a thing,
Harry, which thou haſt often heard of, and it is knowne to
many.

59

many in our Land, by the Name of Pitch: this Pitch (as some Writers doe report) doth defile; so doth the company thou keepeſt: for Harry, now I doe not speake to thee in Drinke, but in Teares; not in Pleasure, but in Pasculation: not in Words onely, but in Woes also: and yet there is a vertuous man, whom I haue often noted in thy company, but I know not his Name.

Prince. What manner of man, and it like your Ma-
tre? ...

Falf. A goodly portly man yfaith, and a corpulent, of a chearefull Looke, a pleating Eye, and a moſt noble Carriage, and as I thinke, his age ſome ſiftie, or (byrlady) inclining to threecore; and now I remember mee, his Name is Falfaffe: if that man should be lewdly giuen, hee decieves mee; for Harry, I fee Vertue in his Lookes. If then the Tree may be knowne by the Fruit, as the Fruit in the Tree, then peremptorily I speake it, there is Vertue in that Falfaffe: him keepe with, the reſt banifh. And tell mee now, thou naughtie Varlet, tell mee, where haſt thou beene this moneth?

Fral. Do ſt thou ſpeake like a King ? doe thou stand firmèt, and Ile play my Father.

Fral. Depoſe me: if thou doſt it halſe so grauely, so materially, both in word and matter, hang me vp by the heedes for a Rabbet-fucker, or a Poulters Hare.

Fral. Well, heere I am fet.

Fral. And heere I stand: judge my Maſters.

Fral. Now Harry, whence come you ?

Fral. My Noble Lord, from East-cheape.

Fral. The complaints I heare of thee, are grievous.

Fral. Yfaith, my Lord, they are falſe: Nay, Ile tickle ye for a young Prince.

Fral. Sweareſt thou, vngracious Boy ? henceforth were looke on me: thou art violently carried away from Grace, there is a Deuill haunts thee, in the likeneſe of a fat Old Man; a Tunne of Man is thy Companion: Why doſt thou counterſe with that Trunke of Humors, that Boulting-Hutch of Beastlineſe, that ſwolne Parcell of Dropſies, that huge Bombard of Sacke, that ſtuffe Cloake-bagge of Guts, that roſted Manning Tree Oxe with the Pudding in his Belly, that reuenerend Vice, that grey Iniquitie, that Father Ruffian, that Vanitie in yeeres? wherein he is good, but to taſſe Sacke, and drinke it? wherein rent and cleanly, but to carue a Capon, and eat it? wherein Canning, but in Craft? wherein Craftie, but in Ville-mie, wherein Villanous, but in all things? wherein wor-they, but in nothing?

Fral. I would your Grace would take me with you: whom means your Grace?

Fral. My Lord, the man I know.

Prince. I know thou doſt.

Fral. But to ſay, I know more harme in him then in my ſelſe, were to ſay more then I know. That hee is olde (the more the pittie) his white hayres doe wintrefle it: but that hee is (fawing your ſeuereuence) a Whore-maſter, that I viterly deny. If Sacke and Sugar bee a faulſe, Heauen helpe the Wicked: if, to be olde and merryl, be a fine, then many an olde Horſe, that I know, is dam'd: if to be fat, be to be hated, then Pharaons, leaue Kine are to be loued. No, my good Lord, banifh Peto, banifh Bardolph, banifh Poiver: but for twcetje Jacke, Falſaffe, kindcach Falſaffe, true Jacke, Falſaffe, valiant Jacke, and therefore more valiant, being as hee is olde Jacke, Falſaffe, banifh not him thy Harryes companie, banifh not him thy Harryes companie; banifh plumpe Jacke, and banifh all the World.

Prince. I do, I will.

Enter Bardolph running.

Bard. O, my Lord, my Lord, the Sheriſe, with a moſt moſt monſtrous Watch, is at the doore.

Falf. Out you Rogue, play out the Play: I haue much to ſay in the behalſe of that Falfaffe.

Enter the Hozſeffe.

Hozſeffe. O, my Lord, my Lord.

Falf. Heigh, heigh, the Deuill rides upon a Fiddle-flicke: what's the matter?

Hozſeffe. The Sheriſe and all the Watch are at the doore: they are come to ſearch the House, I shall let them in?

Falf. Do ſt thou heare Hal, neuer call a true peeece of Gold a Counterſeit: thou art eſſentially made, without ſeeming ſo.

Prince. And thou a naturall Coward, without inſinuſt.

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

Prince. Goe hide thee behinde the Arras, the reſt walke vp aboue. Now my Maſters, for a true Face and good Conſcience.

Falf. Both which I haue had: but their date is out, and therefore Ile hide me.

Prince. Call in the Sheriſe.

Enter Sheriſe and the Carrier.

Prince. Now Maſter Sheriſe, what is your will with mee?

She. First pardon me, my Lord. A Hue and Cry hath followed certaine men vnto this house.

Prince. What men?

She. One of them is well knowne, my gracious Lord, a groſſe fat man.

Car. As fat as Butter.

Prince. The man, I doe aſſure you, is not heere, For I my ſelfe at this time haue iſploy'd him.

And Sheriſe, I will engage my word to thee, That I will by to morrow Dinner time,

Send him to anſwere thee, or any man,

For any thing he ſhall be charg'd withal:

And to let me entreat you, leaue the house.

She. I will, my Lord: there are two Gentlemen Hauing in this Robberie loſt three hundred Markes.

Prince. It may be so: if he haue robb'd those men, He ſhall be anſwerable: and so farewell.

She. Good Night, my Noble Lord.

Prince. I thinke it is good Morrow, is it not?

She. Indeede, my Lord, I thinke it be two a Clocke. Exit.

Prince. This olyy Rascall is knowne as well as Poulles: goe call him forth.

Peto. Falſaffe? falſe aſſleepe behinde the Arras, and ſnorting like a Horſe.

Prince. Harke, how hard he fetches breath: ſearch his Pockets.

60

He searcheth his Pockets, and findeth certaine Papers.

Prince. What haſt thou found?

Peto. Nothing but Papers, my Lord.

Prince. Let's see, what be they? reade them.

Peto. Item, a Capon.

ii.,s.,ii.d.

Item, Sawce.

iii.d.

Item, Sacke, two Gallons.

v.s. viii.d.

Item, Anchoues and Sacke after Supper.

ii.s. vi.d.

Item, Bread.

ob.

Prince. O monſtrous, but one halfe penny-worth of Bread to this intollerable deale of Sacke? What there is else, keepe close, wee'le reade it at more aduantage: there let him fleepe till day. Ile to the Court in the Morning: Wee muſt all to the Warres, and thy place ſhall be hono- rable. Ile procure this fat Rogue a Charge of Foot, and I know his death will be a Match of Twelue-score. The Money ſhall be pay'd backe againe with aduantage. Be with me betimes in the Morning: and ſo good mor- row Peto.

Peto. Good morrow, good my Lord.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Seena Prima.

Enter Hotſpurre, Worcester, Lord Mortimer,
Owen Glendower.

Mort. These promises are faire, the parties ſure,
And our inducation full of prosperous hope.

Hotſp. Lord Mortimer, and Couſin Glendower,

Will you fit downe?

And Vnkle Worcester; a plague upon it,
I haue forgot the Mappe.

Gland. No, here it is:

Sit Couſin Percy, sit good Couſin Hotſpurre!

For by that Name, as oft as Lancaſter doth ſpeake of you,
His Cheekes' ſooke pale, and with a riling ſight,
He wifheth you in Heauen.

Hotſp. And you in Hell, as oft as he heares Owen Glen-
dower ſpoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: At my Natiuilitie,
The front of Heauen was full of fierie ſhapes,
Of burning Creſſers: and at my Birth,
The frame and foundation of the Earth
Shak'd like a Coward,

Hotſp. Why ſo it would haue done at the fame ſeaſon,
if your Mothers Cat had but kitten'd, though your ſelfe
had neuer beene borne.

Glend. I ſay the Earth did ſake when I was borne.

Hotſp. And I ſay the Earth was not of my minde,
If you ſuppofe, as ſearing you, it ſhooke.

Glend. The Heauenis were all on fire, the Earth did tremble.

Hotſp. Oh, then the Earth ſhooke
To fee the Heauen on fire,

And not in fear of your Natiuilitie.

Diseaſed Nature oftentimes breakes forth

In ſtrange eruptions; and the teeming Earth

Is with a kinde of Collick pincht and vext,

By the imprioning of vnruly Winde

Within her Wombe: which for enlargement ſtriuing,
Shakes the old Beldame Earth, and tombles downe

Steeppes, and moſſe-growne Towers. At your Birth,
Our Grandam Earth, having this diſtemperature,
In paffion ſhooke,

Glend. Couſin: of many men

I doe not beare theſe Croſſings: Gie me leaue

To tell you ſonce againe, that at my Birth

The Goates ranne from the Mountaines, and the Heaſts

Were ſtrangely clamorous to the ſrighted fields:

Theſe ſignes haue markt me extraordinaire,

And all the courses of my Life doe ſhow,

I am not in the Roll of common men.

Where is the Liuing, clipt in with the Sea,

That chides the Bankes of England, Scotland, and Wales.

Which calls me Pupill, or hath read to me?

And bring him out, that is but Womans Sonne,

Can trace me in the tedious wayes of Art,

And hold me pace in deepe experiments.

Hotſp. I thinke there's no man ſpeakes better WELſ-
ile to Dinner.

Mort. Peace Couſin Percy, you will make him mid.

Glend. I can call Spirits from the vaftie Deepe.

Hotſp. Why ſo can I, or ſo can any man:

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

Glend. Why, I can teach thee, Couſin, to command the
Deuill.

Hotſp. And I can teach thee, Couſin, to ſhame the Devil,
By telling truth. Tell truth, and ſhame the Deuill.

If thou haue power to rayſe him, bring him hither,

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

Oh, while you liue, tell truth, and ſhame the Deuill.

Mort. Come, come, no more of this vnprofitable
Chat.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bullingbrooke made head

Againſt my Power: thrice from the Banks of Wye,

And fandy-bottom'd Seuerne, haue I hent him

Bootleſſe home, and Weather-beaten backe.

Hotſp. Home without Bootes,

And in foule Weather too,

How ſcapes he Agues in the Deuils name?

Glend. Come, heere's the Mappe:

Shall wee diuide our Right,

According to our three-fold order ta'n e

Mort. The Arch-Deacon hath diuided it

Into three Limits, very equally:

England, from Trent, and Seuerne, hitherto,

By South and East, is to my part affign'd:

All Westward Wales, beyond the Seuerne ſhore,

And all the fertile Land within that bound,

To Owen Glendower: And deare Couze, to you

The remnant Northward, lying off from Trent,

And our Indentures Tripartite are drawne:

Which being ſealed enterchangeably,

(A Busineſſe that this Night may execute)

To morrow, Couſin Percy, you and I,

And my good Lord of Worcester, will ſet forth,

To meete your Father, and the Scottish Power,

As is appointed vs at Shrewsbury.

My Father Glendower is not readie yet,

Nor shall we meete his helpe the ſoure ſeene days:

Within that Ipace, you may haue drawne together

Your Tenants, Friends, and neighbouring Gentlemen.

Glend. A shorter time shall tend me to you, Lords.

And in my Conduct shall your Ladies come,

From whom you now muſt freale, and take no leaue,

For there will be a World of Water ſhed,

Vpon

Upon the parting of your Wines and you.

Holf. Me thinks my Moity, North from Burton here,
In quantite equals not one of yours;

See, how this Ruer comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my Land,

And cuts me from the best of all my Land,
A huge halfe Moone, a monstrous Cantle out.

A huge halfe Moone, a monstrous Cantle out.
He haue the Currant in this place damn'd vy,
Hee runne and Siluer Trent shall runne,

And here the Smug and Siluer Trent shall runne,
In a new Channell, faire anduenly :

In a new Channell, faire anduenly :
It shall not winde with such a deepe indent,
To rob me of so rich a Bottome here.

Glend. Not winde? it shall, it muft, you see it doth.
Mort. Yea, but marke how he bares his course,

And nny more, with like aduantage on the other side,
Gelding the oppofed Continent as much,
As on the other side it takes from you.

Worc. Yea, but a little Charge will trench him here,
And on this North side winne this Cape of Land,
And then he nny straight and even.

Holf. He haue it so, a little Charge will do it.

Glend. Ileno haue it alter'd.

Holf. Will not you?

Glend. No, nor you shall not.

Holf. Who shall fay me nay?

Glend. Why, that will I.

Holf. Let me not vnderstand you then, I speake it in
Welsh.

Glend. I can speake English, Lord, as well as you :

For I was trayn'd up in the English Court ;

Where, being but young, I framed to the Harpe

Many an English Dittie, louely well,

And gauethe Tongue a helpfull Ornament;

A Vertue that was neuer seene in you.

Holf. Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart,

I had rather be a Kitten, and cry mew,

Then one of these fame Meeter Ballad-mongers :

I had rather heare a Brazen Candlestick turn'd,

Or a dry Wheele grate on the Axle-tree,

And that would fet my teeth nothing an edge,

Nothing so much, as mincing Poetrie;

This like the forc't gate of a shuffling Nagge.

Glend. Come, you shall haue Trent turn'd.

Holf. I do not care: Ile giue threec so much Land

To any well-deferuing friend ;

But in the way of Bargaine, marke ye me,

Ile cauill on the ninth part of a hayre,

Ate the Indentures drawne? shall we be gone?

Glend. The Moone thines faire,

You may away by Night :

He haſte the Writer; and withall,

Breake with your Wines, of your departure hence:
I am afraid my Daughter will runne madde,

So much the doroth on her Mortimer.

Exit.

Mort. Fie, Cousin Percy, how you croſſe my Father.

Holf. I cannot chuse: sometime he angers me,
With telling me of the Moldwarpe and the Ant,

Of the Dreamer Merlin, and his Prophecies;
And of a Dragon, and a finne-Jesse Fith,

A clip-wing'd Griffin, and a moulten Rauen,
A couching Lyon, and a ramping Cat,

And such a deale of skimble-skamble Stuff,
As puts me from my Faith. I tell you what,

He held me last Night, at least, nine howres,
In reckning vp the feuerall Devils Names,

That were his Lacqueyes :

I cry'd hum, and well, goe too,

But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tyred Horſe, a rayling Wife,

Worſe then a smoakie House, I had rather liue
With Cheeſe and Garlick in a Windmill ſarre,
Then ſeede on Cates, and haue him talke to me,
In any Summer-Houſe in Chriſtendome.

Mort. In faith he was a worthy Gentleman,
Exceeding well read, and profited,

In ſtrange Concealernents:

Valiant as a Lyon, and wondrous affable,

And as bountiſull, as Mynes of India.

Shall I tell you, Cousin,

He holds your temper in a high reſpect,

And curbes himſelfe, euen of his naturall ſcope,

When you doe croſſe his humor: faith he does.

I warrant you, that man is not alone,

Might ſo haue tempted him, as you haue done,

Without the taſte of danger, and reproofe:

But doe not vſe it oft, let me entreat you.

Worc. In faith, my Lord, you are too wilſull blame,
And ſince your comming hither, haue done enough,
To put him quite besides his patience.

You muſt needes leane, Lord, to amend this fault:

Though sometimes it shew Greatneſſe, Courage, Blood,
And that's the deareſt grace it renders you;

Yet oftentimes it doth preſent harſh Rage,

Deſeet of Manners, want of Gouernment,

Pride, Haughtineſſe, Opinion, and Difdaine:

The least of which, haunting a Nobleman,

Loſeth mens hearts, and leaues behinde a ſlayne

Vpon the beautie of all parts besides,

Beguiling them of commendation.

Holf. Well, I am ſchool'd:

Good-manners be your ſpeede;

Heree come your Wines, and let vs take our leaue.

Enter Glendower, with the Ladies.

Mort. This is the deadly spight, that angers me,
My Wife can I speake no English, I no WELſh.

Glend. My Daughter weepes, ſheele not part with you,
Sheele be a Souldier too, ſheele to the Warres.

Mort. Good Father tell her, that ſhe and my Aunt Percy
Shall follow in your Conduct ſpeedily.

Glendower ſpeakes to her in WELſh, and ſhe an-
ſweres him in the ſame.

Glend. Shee is desperate heere:

A peenuſh ſelſe-will'd Harlotry,

One that no perſwafion can doe good vpon.

The Lady ſpeakes in WELſh.

Mort. I vnderstand thy Lookes: that pretty WELſh
Which thou pow'r't down from these ſwelling Heauens,
I am too perfect in: and but for ſhame,
In ſuch a parley should I anſwere thee.

The Lady againe in WELſh.

Mort. I vnderstand thy Kiffes, and thou mine,
And that's a feeling dispuration:
But I will neuer be a Truant, Loue,

Till I have learn'd thy Language: for thy tongue

Makes

Makes Welsh as sweet as Ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a faire Queene in a Summers Bowre,
With rauihing Duiuion to her Lute.

Glend. Nay, if thou mel'st, then will she runne madd'e.

The Lady speaks againe in Welſo.

Mort. O, I am Ignorance it selfe in this.
Glend. She bids you,
On the wanton Ruſhes lay you downe,
And reſt your gentle Head vpon her Lappe,
And she will ſing the Song that pleafeth you,
And on your Eye-lids Crowne the God of Sleepe,
Charming your blood with pleafing heauineſſe;
Making ſuch difference betwixt Wake and Sleepe,
As is the difference betwixt Day and Night,
The houre before the Heauenly Harneis'd Teeme
Begins his Golden Progreſſe in the Eaſt.

Mort. With all my heart Ile ſit, and heare her ſing:
By that time will our Booke, I thinke, be drawne.

Glend. Doe ſo:
And that ſome Musitians that shall play to you,
Hang in the Ayre a thouſand Leagues from thence;
And ſtraight they shall be here: ſit, and attend.

Hotſp. Come Kate, thou art perfect in lying downe:
Come, quicke, quicke, that I may lay my Head in thy
Lappe.

Lady. Goe, ye giddy-Gooſe.

The Musiſke playes.

Hotſp. Now I perceiue the Deuill vnderstands WELſh,
And 'tis no maruell he is ſo humorous:
Byrlady hee's a good Musitian.

Lady. Then would you be nothing but Musiſall,
For you are altogether governed by humors:
Lye till ye Theeſe, and heare the Lady ſing in Welſh.

Hotſp. I had rather heare (Lady) my Brach howlie in
Irifh.

Lady. Would it haue thy Head broken?

Hotſp. No.

Lady. Then be still.

Hotſp. Neyther, 'tis a Womans fault.

Lady. Now God helpe thee.

Hotſp. To the WELſh Ladies: Bed.

Lady. What's that?

Hotſp. Peace, thee ſings.

Heere the Lady ſings a WELſh Song.

Hotſp. Come, Ile haue your Song too.
Lady. Not mine, in good footh.
Hotſp. Not yours, in good footh?
You ſwear me like a Comſit-makers Wife:
Not you, in good footh; and, as true as I liue;
And, as God shall mend me; and, as ſure as day:
And giue ſuch Sarcenet ſuretie for thy Oathes,
As if thou neuer walk it further then Finsbury.
Sweare me, Kate, like a Lady, as thou art,
A good mouth-filling Oath; and leaue in footh,
And ſuch proteſt of Pepper Ginger-bread,
To Veluet-Guards, and Sunday-Citizens.
Come, ſing.

Lady. I will not ſing.

Hotſp. 'Tis the next way to turne Taylor, or be Red-
breſt teacher: and the Indentures be drawne, Ile away

within theſe two howres: and ſo come in, when ye
will.
Exit.

Glend. Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as flow
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to goe.

By this our Booke is drawne: wee'le but ſeale,
And then to Horſe immediately.

Mort. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, and others.

King. Lords, giue vs leaue:
The Prince of Wales, and I,
Muſt haue ſome priuate conference:
But be neere at hand,
For wee ſhall presently haue neede of you,
Exeunt Lords.
I know not whether Heauen will haue it ſo,
For ſome diſpleaſing ſeruice I haue done;
That in his ſecre Doome, out of my Blood,
Hee'le breede Reuengement, and a Scurge for me:
But thou do'ſt in thy paſſages of Life,
Make me beleeue, that thou art onely maſk'd
For the hot vengeance, and the Rod of heauen
To puniſh my Miſtreadings. Tell me eſſe,
Could ſuch inordinate and low desires,
Such poore, ſuch bare, ſuch lewd, ſuch meane attempts,
Such barren pleaſures, rude ſocietie,
As thou art matcht withall, and graſted too,
Accompanie the greatneſſe of thy blood,
And hold their leuell with thy Princely heart?

Prince. So pleaſe your Maieſtیe, I would I could
Quit all offences with as cleare excufe,
As well as I am doubtleſſe I can purge
My ſelfe of many I am charg'd withall:
Yet ſuch extenuation let me begge,
As in reproofe of many Tales deuis'd,
Which oft the Eare of Greatneſſe needes muſt heare,
By smiling Pick-thankes, and bafe Newes-mongers;
I may for ſome things true, wherein my youth
Hath faultie wandred, and irregular,
Finde pardon on my true ſubmiſſion.

King. Heauen pardon thee:
Yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which doe hold a Wing
Quite from the flight of all thy aneſtors.
Thy place in Councell thou haſt rudely loft,
Which by thy younger Brother is ſupply'd;
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the Court and Princes of my blood.
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin'd, and the Soule of every man
Prophetically doe fore-thinke thy fall.
Had I ſo lauith of my prefence beene,
So common hackney'd in the eyes of men,
So ſtale and cheape to vulgar Company;
Opinion, that did helpe me to the Crowne,
Had ſtill kept loyall to poffeſſion,
And left me in reputeleſſe baniſhment,
A fellow of no marke, nor likelyhood.
By being ſeldome ſene, I could not flirre,
But like a Comet, I was wondred at,

That

63

That men would tell their Children, This is hee :
Others would say: Where, Which is *Bullingbrooke*.
And then I stole all Courtesie from Heauen,
And dreft my selfe in such Humilitie,
That I did plucke Allegiance from mens hearts,
Lowd Shows and Salutations from their mouthes,
Euen in the prefence of the Crowned King.
Thus I did keepe my Person fresh and new,
My Prefence like a Robe Pontificall,
Ne're seene, but wondred at: and so my State,
Seldome but sumptuous, ſhewed like a Feast,
And wonne by rareneſſe ſuch Solemnitie.
The skipping King hee ambled vp and downe,
With ſhallow Ieſters, and rafh Bauin Wits,
Soone kindled, and ſoone burnt, carded his State,
Mingled his Royaltie with Carping Fooles,
Had his great Name prophaned with their Scornes,
And gaue his Countenance, againſt his Name,
To laugh at gybing Boyes, and ſtand the pufh
Of euery Beardleſſe vaine Comparatiue;
Grew a Companion to the common Streetes,
Enſcoſſ'd himſelfe to Popularitie:

That being dayly ſwallowed by mens Eyes,
They ſurfeted with Honey, and began to loath
The tafele of Sweetneſſe, whereof a little
More then a little, is by much too much.

So when he had occaſion to be ſene,
He was but as the Cuckow is in June,
Heard, not regarded: ſenee but with ſuch Eyes,
As ſicke and blunted with Communitie,
Aſſoord no extraordinary Gaze,

Such as is bent on Sunne-like Maieſtie,
When it thines ſeldome in admiring Eyes:

But rather drowzd, and hung their eye-lids downe,
Slept in his Face, and rendred ſuch aſpect
As Cloudie men vſe to doe to their aduerſaries,
Being with his preſence glutted, gorg'd, and full.

And in that very Line, *Harry*, ſtandſt thou :

For thou haſt loſt thy Princely Priuledge,
With vile participation. Not an Eye

But is awarde of thy common fight,
Saue mine, which hath deſir'd to ſee thee more:
Which now doth that I would not haue it doe,
Make blinde it ſelfe with ſoolſih tenderneſſe.

*Prince*. I ſhall hereafter, my thirce gracious Lord,
Be more my ſelſe.

*King*. For all the World,

As thou art to this houre, was *Richard* then,
When I from France ſet foot at Rauenspurgh;
And euen as I was then, is *Percy* now:

Now by my Scepter, and my Soule to boor,
He hath more worthy intereſt to the State
Then thou, the ſhadow of Succeſſion;

For of no Right, nor colour like to Right,
He doth fill fields with Harneſis in the Realme,

Turnes head againſt the Lyons armed Iawes;
And being no more in debt to yeeres, then thou,
Leades ancient Lords, and reuerent Bishops on
To bloody Battailes, and to brusing Armes.

What neuer-dying Honor hath he got,
Againſt renowned *Dowglas*? whose high Deedes,
Whose hot Incursions, and great Name in Armes,
Holds from all Souldiers chieſe Maioritie,
And Militarie Title Capitall.

Through all the Kingdomes that acknowledge Chriſt,
Thrice hath the *Hotſpur* *Mars*, in ſwathing Clothes,

This Infant Warrior, in his Enterprisſes,
Difcomſited great *Dowglas*, ta'ne him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deepe Defiance vp,

And ſhake the peace and ſafetie of our THRONE.

And what ſay you to this? *Percy*, *Northumberland*,
The Arch-bifhops Grace of Yorke, *Dowglas*, *Mortimer*,
Capitulate againſt vs, and are vp.

But wherefore doe I tell theſe Newes to theſe?

Why, *Harry*, doe I tell theſe of my Foes,
Which art my neer'ſt and deareſt Enemie?

Thou, that art like enough, through vassall Feare,
Bafe Inclination, and the ſtart of Spleene,
To fight againſt me vnder *Percies* pay,
To dogge his heeles, and curſeſt at his frownes,
To ſhew how much thou art degenerate.

*Prince*. Doenot thinke so, you ſhall not finde it so:
And Heauen forgiue them, that so much haue ſway'd

Your Maieſties good thoughts away from me:

I will redeem all this on *Percies* head,
And in the cloſing of ſome glorious day,

Be bold to tell you, that I am your Sonne,

When I will weare a Garment all of Blood,

And ſtaine my fauours in a bloody Maske:

Which waſht away, ſhall ſcowre my ſhame with it.

And that ſhall be the day, when ere it lights,

That this ſame Child of Honor and Renowne,

This gallant *Hotſpur*, this all-prayſed Knight,

And your wathought-of *Harry* chance to meet:

For euery Honor fitting on his Helme,

Would they were multitudes, and on my head

My ſhames redoubled. For the time will come,

That I ſhall make this Northerne Youth exchange

His glorious Deedes for my Indignities:

*Percy* is but my Factor, good my Lord,

To engroſſe vp glorious Deedes on my behalfe:

And I will call him to ſo striſt account,

That he ſhall render euery Glory vp,

Yea, euen the ſleighteſt worthip of his time,

Or I will teare the Reckoning from his Heart.

This, in the Name of Heauen, I promife here:

The which, if I performe, and doe ſuruive,

I doe beſech your Maieſtie, may falue

The long-growne Wounds of my intemperature:

If not, the end of Life cancels all Bands,

And I will dye a hundred thouſand Deaths,

Ere breake the ſmallest parcell of this Vow.

*King*. A hundred thouſand Rebels dye in this:

Thou ſhalt haue Charge, and ſoueraigne truſt herein.

*Enter Blunt.*

How now good *Blunt*? thy Lookes are full of ſpeed.

*Blunt*. So hath the Busineſſe that I come to ſpeake of.

Lord *Mortimer* of Scotland hath ſent word,

That *Dowglas* and the English Rebels met

The eleuenth of this moneth, at Shrewsbury :

A mightie and a ſcarefull Head they are,

(If Promifes be kept on euery hand)

As euer offered ſoule play in a State.

*King*. The Earle of Westmerland ſet forth to day:

With him my ſonne, Lord *John* of Lancaſter,

For this aduertisement is ſue dayes old.

On Wednesday next, *Harry* thou ſhalt ſet forward:

On Thursday, wee our ſelues will march.

Our meeting is Bridgenorth: and *Harry*, you ſhall march

Through

64 The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.

Through Gloucestershire: by which account,
Our Businesse valued some twelue dayes hence,
Our generall Forces at Bridgenorth shall meete.
Our Hands are full of Businesse: let's away,
Aduantage feedes him fat, while men delay.
Exenut.

## Scena Tertia.

### Enter Falſtaffe and Bardolph.

Falſt. Bardolph, am I not falne away vilely, since this laſt action? doe I not bate? doe I not dwindle? Why my skinne hangs about me like an olde Ladies looke Gowne: I am withered like an olde Apple John. Well, Ile repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking: I ſhall be out of heart ſhortly, and then I ſhall haue no ſtrength to repent. And I haue not forgotten what the inſide of a Church is made of, I am a Pepper-Corne, a Brewers Horſe, the inſide of a Church. Company, villanous Company hath beene the ſpoyle of me.

Bard. Sir John, you are so fregtfull, you cannot liue long.

Falſt. Why there is it: Come, ſing me a bawdy Song, make me merry: I was as vertuouſly guien, as a Gentleman need to be; vertuous enough, ſwore little, dic'd not aboue ſeuen times a weeke, went to a Bawdy-house not aboue once in a quarter of an houre, payd Money that I borrowed, three or ſoure times; liued well, and in good compaſſe: and now I liue out of all order, out of compaſſe.

Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you muſt needes bee out of all compaſſe; out of all reaſonable compaſſe, Sir John.

Falſt. Doe thou amend thy Face, and Ile amend thy Life: Thou art our Admirall, thou beareſt the Lanterne in the Poope, but'tis in the Nofe of thee; thou art the Knight of the burning Lampe.

Bard. Why, Sir John, my Face does you no harme.

Falſt. No, Ile be ſworne: I make as good vſe of it, as many a man dorth of a Deaths-Head, or a Memento Mori. I neuer ſee thy Face, but I thinke vpon Hell fire, and Dines that liued in Purple; for there he is in his Robes burning, burning. If thou wert any way guien to vertue, I would ſware by thy Face; my Oath ſhould bee, By this Fire: But thou art altogether guien ouer; and wert indeede, but for the Light in thy Face, the Sunne of vitter Darke neſſe. When thou ranſt vp Gads-Hill in the Night, to catch my Horſe, if I did not thinke that thou haſt beene an Ignis fatuus, or a Ball of Wild-fire, there's no Purchase in Money. O, thou art a perpetuall Triumph, an eueraſting Bone-fire-Light: thou haſt ſaued me a thouſand Markes in Linkes and Torches, walking with thee in the Night betwixt Tauerne and Tauerne: But the Sack that thou haſt drunke me, would haue bought me Lights as good cheape, as the deareſt Chandlers in Europe. I haue maintain'd that Salamander of yours with fire, any time this two and thirtie yceres, Heauen reward me for it.

Bard. I would my Face were in your Belly.

Falſt. So should I be ſure to be heart-burn'd.

Enter Hoſſeſſe.

How now, Dame Partlet the Hen, haue you enquir'd yet who pick'd my Pocket?

Hoſſeſſe. Why Sir John, what doe you thinke, Sir John, doe you thinke I keepe Theeues in my House? I lye search'd, I haue enquired, so has my Husband, Man, Boy by Boy, Servant by Servant: the tight of a hayre was neuer loft in my house before.

Falſt. Ye Iye Hoſſeſſe: Bardolph was ſhau'd, and I had many a hayre; and Ile be ſworne my Pocket was pick'd, goe to, you are a Woman, goe.

Hoſſeſſe. Who I? I defie thee: I was neuer call'd in mine owne house before.

Falſt. Go to, I know you well enough.

Hoſſeſſe. No, Sir John, you doe not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John: you owe me Money, Sir John, and now you picke a quarrell, to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of Shirts to your Backe.

Falſt. Doulas, filthy Doulas: I haue giuen them away to Bakers Wines, and they haue made Boulters of them.

Hoſſeſſe. Now as I am a true Woman, Holland of eight ſhillings an Ell: You owe Money here besides, Sir John, for your Dyer, and by-Drinkings, and Money lent you, foure and twentie pounds.

Falſt. Hee had his part of it, let him pay.

Hoſſeſſe. Hee? alas hee is poore, hee hath nothing.

Falſt. How? Poore? Looke vpon his Face: What call you Rich? Let them coyne his Nofe, let them coyne his Cheekes, Ile not pay a Denier. What, will you make a Younker of me? Shall I not take mine eafe in mine Inne, but I shall haue my Pocket pick'd? I haue loft a Seal Ring of my Grand-fathers, worth fortie Marke.

Hoſſeſſe. I haue heard the Prince tell him, I know not how of, that that Ring was Copper.

Falſt. How? the Prince is a Tacke, a Sneake-Copper and if hee were heere, I would cudgell him like a Dogge if hee would say to.

Enter the Prince marching, and Falſtaffe meets him, playing on his Truchion like a Fiſe.

Falſt. How now Lad? is the Winde in that Door? Must we all march?

Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

Hoſſeſſe. My Lord, I pray you heare me.

Prince. What ſay'ſt thou, Mistleſſe Quic港? How does thy Husband? I loue him well, hee is an honest man.

Hoſſeſſe. Good, my Lord, heare mee.

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

Prince. What ſay'ſt thou, Jacke?

Falſt. The other Night I fell aſſee heere behind the Attas, and had my Pocket pickt: this House is tunn Bawdy-house, they picke Pockets,

Prince. What didſt thou, Jace?

Falſt. Wilt thou beleeue me, Hal? Three or ſoure Bonds of fortie pound apeecce, and a Seal-Ring of my Grand-fathers.

Prince. A Trifle, some eight-penny matter.

Hoſſ. So I told him, my Lord; and I faid, I heard your Grace ſay to him: and (my Lord) hee speakes moſt vilely of you, like a foule-mouth'd man as hee is, and I faid, hee would cudgell you.

Prince. What hee did not?

Hoſſ. There's neyther Faith, Truth, nor Woman-hood in me eſſe.

Falſt. There's

65

Fal. There's no more faith in thee then a fit de Prunee,
par no more truth in thee, then in a drawne Fox: and for
Wooman-hood, Maid-marian may be the Deputies wife
of the Ward to thee. Go you nothing: go.
Hob. Say, what thing? what thing?

Fal. What thing? why a thing to thanke heauen on.
Hob. I am no thing to thanke heauen on, I wold thou
shouldst know it: I am an honest mans wife: and fetting
thy Kaighthood afide, thou art a knaue to call me fo.
Fal. Setting thy woman-hood afide, thou art a beaft
to lay otherwife.

Hob. Say, what beaft, thou knaue thou?
Fal. What beaft? Why an Otter.
Prin. An Otter, fir John? Why an Otter?
Fal. Why? She's neither fish nor flesh; a man knowes
not where to haue her.

Hob. Thou art vnfiust man in saying so; thou, or anie
man knowes where to haue me, thou knaue thou.
Prin. Thou lay't true Hofteffe, and he slanders thee
mott grossely.
Hob. So he doth you, my Lord, and fayde this other
day. You ought him a thousand pound.

Prin. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound ?
Fal. A thousand pound Hal? A Million. Thy loue is
worth a Million: thou owe me thy loue.
Hob. Nay my Lord, he call'd you lacke, and said hee
wouldудgeil you.
Fal. Did I, Bardolph?

Prin. Indeed Sir John, you said so.
Fal. Yea, if he said my Ring was Copper.
Prince. I say't is Copper. Dar't thou bee as good as
thy word now ?

Prin. And why not as the Lyon?
Fal. The King himselfe is to bee feared as the Lyon:
Dolt thowthinke I leare thee, as I feare thy Father? nay
if I do, let my Girdle breake.

Prin. O, if it should, how would thy guttes fall about
thy knees. But firra: There's no roome for Faith, Truth,
not honest, in this boome of thine: it is all fill'd vppe
with Guttes and Midriffe. Charge an honest Woman
with picking thy pocket? Why thou horson impudent
imbo Rascall, if there were any thing in thy Pocket but
Taucerne Recknings, Memorandums of Bawdie-houfes,
and one poore peny-worth of Sugar-candie to make thee
long-winded: if thy pocket were enrich'd with anie
other injuries but thefe, I am a Villaine: And yet you will
fand to it, you will not Pocket vp wrong. Art thou not
rich in that?

Fal. D'o't thou heare Hal? Thou know't in the flate
of Innocency, Adam fell: and what should' poore Lacke
Hoflaffe do, in the dayes of Villany? Thou seest, I haue
more flesh then another man, and therefore more frailty.
You confesse then you pickt my Pocket?

Prin. It appeares so by the Story.
Fal. Hoflaffe, I forgiue thee.
Go make ready Breakfast, loue thy Husband,
Looke to thy Servants, and cherish thy Goufes.
Thou shall find me tractable to any honest reafons.
Thou seest, I am pacified still.
Nay, I prethee be gone.

Now Hal, to the newes at Court for the Robbety, Lad?
How is that answered?

Prin. O my sweet Beefe:
I must (still be good Angell to thee.
The Monie is paid backe againe.

Fal. O, I do not like that paying backe, 'tis a double
Labour.

Prin. I am good Friends with my Father, and may do
any thing.

Fal. Rob me the Exchequer the firſt thing thou do'ſt,
and do it with vnwaſh'd hands too.

Bard. Do my Lord.
Prin. I haue procured thee Lacke, a Charge of Foot.

Fal. I would it had beene of Horſe. Where ſhal I ſinde
one that can ſteale well? O, for a fine theſeel, of two and
twentie, or thereabout: I am heynouſly vnprouided. Wel
God be thanked for theſe Rebeſs, they offenſe none but
the Vertuous. I laud them, I praiſe them.

Prin. Bardolph.
Bar. My Lord.
Prin. Go beare this Letter to Lord John of Lancaſter
To my Brother John. This to my Lord of Westmerland,
Go Pete, to horſe: for thou, and I,
Haue thirtie miles to ride yet ere dinner time.
Lacke, meet me to morrow in the Temple Hall

At two a clocke in the afternoone,
There ſhalt thou know thy Charge, and there receiue
Money and Order for their Furniture.
The Land is burning, Percie flands on hye,
And either they, or we muſt lower lye.

Fal. Rare words! braue world.
Hoflaffe, my breakfast, come:
Oh, I could with this Taucerne were my drumme.

Exeunt omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Harris Hofpurre, Worcester,
and Douglas.

Hob. Well faid, my Noble Scot, if speaking truth
In this fine Age, were not thought flatterie,
Such attribution should the Dowglas haue,
As not a Souldiour of this ſeafons ſtampe,
Should go fo generall currant through the world.
By heauen I cannot flatter: I defie
The Tongues of Soothers. But a Brauer place
In my hearts loue, hath no man then your Selfe.
Nay, taske me to my word: approue me Lord.

Dow. Thou art the King of Honor:
No man is potent breathers upon the ground,
But I will Beard him.

Enter a Messenger.

Hot. Do fo, and 'tis well. What Letters haſt there?
I can but thanke you.

Mef. These Letters come from your Father.

Hot. Letters from him?
Why comes he not himselfe?
Mef. He cannot come, my Lord,

He is greenuous ſicke.
Hot. How? haz he the leyſure to be ſickenow,
In ſuch a iuſtling time? Who leades his power?
Vnder whose Gonernment come they along?

Mef

66 The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.

Meff. His Letters beares his minde, not I his minde.

Wor. I prethee tell me, doth he keepe his Bed?

Meff. He did, my Lord, foure dayes ere I set forth:
And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his Physician.

Wor. I would the state of time had first beene whole,
Ere he by ficknesse had beene visited:
His health was neuer better worth then now.

Hotfp. Sicke now? droope now? this ficknes doth infest
The very Life-blood of our Enterprize,
'Tis catching hither, euen to our Campe.
He writes me here, that inward ficknesse,
And that his friends by deputation

Could not so soone be drawne: nor did he thinke it meet,
To lay so dangerous and deare a truft
On any Soule remou'd, but on his owne.
Yet doth he giue vs bold aduertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To fee how Fortune is dispos'd to vs:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the King is certainly posseft
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your Fathers ficknesse is a mayme to vs.

Hotfp. A perillous Gash, a very Limme lopt off:
And yet, in faith, it is not his prefent want
Seemes more then we shall finde it.

Were it good, to fet the exact wealth of all our states
All at one Caft? To fet so rich a mayne
On the nice hazard of one doubtful houre,
It were not good: for therein should we reade
The very Bottome, and the Soule of Hope,
The very Lift, the very vmoft Bound
Of all our fortunes.

Dowg. Faith, and so wee should,
Where now remains a sweet reuerion,
We may boldly spend, vpon the hope
Of what is to come in:

A comfort of retirement liues in this.

Hotfp. A Randeuous, a Home to flye vnto,
If that the Deuill and Mischance looke bigge
Vpon the Maydenhead of our Affaires.

Wor. But yet I would your Father had beene here:
The Qualitie and Heire of our Attempt
Brookes no division: It will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wifedome, loyaltye, and meere diflike
Of our proceedings, kept the Earle from hence.

And thinke, how fuch an apprehension
May turne the tyde of fearefull Facion,
And breede a kinde of queſtion in our caufe:
For well you know, wee of the offering fide,

Muft keepe aloofe from ftrict arbitrement,
And stop all fight-holes, euery looke, from whence
The eye of reafon may prie in vpon vs:
This abſence of your Father drawes a Curtajne,
That ſhewes the ignorant a kinde of ſeaſe,
Before not dreamt of.

Hotfp. You strayne too farre.
I rather of his abſence make this vſe:

It lends a Luftre, and more great Opinion,
A larger Dare to your great Enterprize,
Then if the Earle were here: for men muſt thinke,
If we without his helpe, can make a Head

To pufh againſt the Kingdome; with his helpe,
We ſhall ore turne it topſie-turuy downe:

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

Dowg. As heart can thinke:

There is not fuch a word (spoke of in Scotland,
At this Dreame of Feare.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

Hotfp. My Couſin Vernon, welcome by my Soule.

Vern. Pray God my newes be worth a welcome, Lord,
The Earle of Westmerland, seuen thousand strong,
Is marching hither-wards, with Prince John.

Hotfp. No harme: what more?

Vern. And further, I haue learn'd,
The King himſelfe in perſon hath set forth,
Or hither-wards intended ſpedily,
With ſtrong and mightie preparation.

Hotfp. He shall be welcome too.

Where is his Sonne,
The nimble-footed Mad-Cap, Prince of Wales,
And his Cumrades, that daſt the World alſide,
And bid it paffe?

Vern. All furniſht, all in Armes,
All plum'd like Eſtridges, that with the Winde
Bayred like Eagles, hauing lately bath'd,
Glittering in Golden Coates, like Images,
As full of ſpirit as the Moneth of May,
And gorgeous as the Sunne at Mid-summer,
Wanton as youthfull Goates, wilde as young Bulls,
I faw young Harry with his Beuer on,
His Cufhes on his highes, gallantly arm'd,
Rife from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with ſuch eafe into his Seat,
As if an Angell dropt downe from the Clouds,
To turne and winde a fierie Pegasus,
And witch the World with Noble Horſemanlip.

Hotfp. No more, no more,

Wor. Then the Sunne in March:
This prayſe doth nouriſh Aques: let them come,
They come like Sacrifices in their trimme,
And to the fire-ey'd Maid of ſmoakie Warre,
All hot, and bleeding, will wee offer them:
The mayled Mars shall on his Altar fit
Vp to the eares in blood. I am on fire,
To heare this rich reprizall is so nigh,
And yet not ours. Come, let me take my Horſe,
Who is to beare me like a Thunder-bolt,
Againſt the boſome of the Prince of Wales.

Harry to Harry, shall not Horſe to Horſe
Meete, and ne're part, till one drop downe a Coarle?
Oh, that Glendower were come.

Ver. There is more newes:

I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his Power this foureſtene dayes.

Dowg. That's the workt Tidings that I heare of yet.

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

Hotfp. What may the Kings whole Battaille reaſon vnto?

Ver. To thirty thousand.

Hot. Forty let it be.

My Father and Glendower being both away,
The powres of vs, may ſerue fo great a day.
Come, let vs take a muſter ſpeedily:

Doomſday is neere; dye all, dye merrily.

Dow. Talke not of dying, I am out of feare
Of death, or deaths hand, for this one halfe yeare.

Exeunt Omen.

67

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Falstaffe and Bardolph.

Falstaffe, Bardolph, get thee before to Coentry, fill me a
Bottle of Sack, our Souldiers shall march through: wee'le
to Sutton-cop-hill to Night.

Bard. Will you give me Money, Captaine ?
Falstaffe. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This Bottle makes an Angell.

Falstaffe. And if it doe, take it for thy labour; and if it
make twentie, take them all, Ile answere the Coynage.
Bid my Lieutenant Peto meete me at the Townes end.

Bard. I will Captaine: farewell. Exit.

Falstaffe. If I be not asham'd of my Souldiers, I am a
lackt-Gurnet: I haue miff'd the Kings Preſſe dam-
bly. I haue got, in exchange of a hundred and ſiftie
Souldiers, three hundred and odde Pounds. I preſſe me
none but good House-holders, Yeomen ſonnes: enquire
me out contrasted Batchelers, such as had beene ask'd
twice on the Banes: such a Commoditie of warme flaues,
to haue as lieue heare the Dewill, as a Drumme; such as
since the report of a Caliuer, worſe then a ftruck-Foole,
or a burste wilde-Ducke. I preſſe me none but ſuch Toſtes
and Butter, with Hearts in their Bellyes: no bigger then
Punes heads, and they haue bought out their ſeruices:
And now, my whole Charge conſifts of Ancients, Cor-
porals, Lieutenants, Gentlemen of Companies, Slaves as
ragged as Lazarus in the painted Cloth, where the Glut-
tons Dogges licked his Sores; and ſuch, as indeed were
neuer Souldiers, but diſ carded vnjuſt Seruicingmen, youn-
get ſonnes to younger Brothers, reuolted Tapſters and
Olliers, Trade-falne, the Cankers of a calme World, and
long Peace, tente times more dis-honorable ragged,
then an old-fac'd Ancient; and ſuch haue I to fill vp the
names of them that haue bought out their ſeruices: that
you would thinde, that I had a hundred and ſiftie totter'd
Prodigalls, lately come from Swine-keeping, from eating
Druffe and Huskes. A mad fellow met me on the way,
and told me, I had vnloaded all the Gibbets, and preſſe the
dead bodies. No eye had feene ſuch skar-Crowes: Ile
not march through Coentry with them, that's flat. Nay,
and the Villaines march wide betwixt the Legges, as if
they had Gyues on; for indeede, I had the moſt of them
out of Prifon. There's not a Shirt and a halſe in all my
Company: and the halſe Shirt is two Napkins tackt to-
gether, and throwne ouer the Shoulders like a Heralds
Coſt, without fleeces: and the Shirt, to ſay'the truth,
flone from my Hoſt of S. Albones, or the Red-Noſe
Inne-keeper of Dauintry. But that's all one, they'le finde
Linnen enough on every Hedge.

Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmerland.

Prince. How now blowne Jacks? how now Quilt ?

Falstaffe. What Half? How now mad Wag, what a Devill
do't thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of West-
merland, I cry you mercy, I thought your Honour had al-
ready beene at Shrewsbury.

West. Faith, Sir John, is more then time that I were
there, and you too: but my Powers are there already.
The King, I can tell you, looks for vs all: we must away
all to Night.

Falstaffe. Tut, neuer feare me, I am as vigilant as a Cat, to
reale Creame.

Prince. I thinke to reale Creame indeed, for thy theft
hath already made thee Butter : but tell me, Jack, whoſe
fellowes are these that come after ?

Falstaffe. Mine, Hal, mine.

Prince. I did neuer fee ſuch pittifull Rascals.
Falstaffe. Tut, tut, good enough to toſſe: foode for Pow-
der, foode for Powder: they'le fill a Pit, as well as better:
tuſh man, mortall men, mortall men.

West. I, but Sir John, me thinkes they are exceeding
poore and bare, too beggarly.

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

Prince. No, Ile be ſworne, vnleſſe you call three fingers
on the Ribbes bare. But firra, make haſte, Percy is already
in the field.

Falstaffe. What, is the King encamp'd?

West. Hee is, Sir John, I feare wee shall stay too
long.

Falstaffe. Well, to the latter end of a Fray, and the beginning of a Feast, fits a dull fighter, and a keene Gueſt.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Hotſpur, Woreeſter, Dowlas, and
Vernon.

Hotſpur. Wee'le fight with him to Night.

Wore. It may not be.

Dowg. You give him then aduantage.

Vern. Not a whit.

Hotſp. Why ſay you so ? lookes he not for ſupply?

Vern. So doe wee.

Hotſp. His is certaine, ours is doubtfull.

Wore. Good Cousin be aduis'd, firre not to night.

Vern. Doe not, my Lord.

Dowg. You doe not counſaile well :

You ſpeake it out of ſeare, and cold heart.

Vern. Doe me no ſlander, Dowglas: by my Life,
And I dare well maintaine it with my Life,
If well-respected Honor bid me on,
I hold as little counſaile with weake ſeare,
As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day liues.
Let it be ſeene to morrow in the Battell,
Which of vs feares.

Dowg. Yea, or to night.

Vern. Content.

Hotſp. To night, ſay I.

Vern. Come, come, it may not be.

I wonder much, being me of ſuch great leading as you are
That you fore-fee not what impediments
Drag backe our expedition: certaine Horſe
Of my Cousin Vernons are not yet come vp,
Your Vnckle Woreeſters Horſe came but to day's
And now their pride and mettall is aſſleepe,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a Horſe is halſe the halſe of himſelfe.

Hotſp. So are the Horſes of the Enemie
In general journey bated, and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of reſt.

Wor. The

f 3

68

Worc. The number of the King exceedeth ours:
For Gods sake, Couſin, stay till all come in.

The Trumpeſt ſounds a Parley. Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King;
If you vouchſaile me hearing, and respect.

Hotſp. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt.
And would to God you were of our determination.
Some of vs loue you well: and euen those ſome
Enuie your great deferuings, and good name,
Because you are not of our qualitie,
But stand againſt vs like an Enemie.

Blunt. And Heauen defend, but still I should stand ſo,
So long as out of Limit, and true Rule,
You stand againſt anoyuted Maiestie.
But to my Charge.
The King hath ſent to know
The nature of your Griefes, and whereupon
You coniure from the Breſt of Ciuill Peace,
Such bold Hoftilitie, teaching his dutious Land
Audacious Crueltie. If that the King
Haue any way your good Deſerts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your Griefes, and with all ſpeed
You ſhall haue your deſires, with intereſt;
And Pardon abſolute for your ſelfe, and theſe,
Herein mis-led, by your ſugſestion.

Hotſp. The King is kinde:
And well wee know, the King
Knowes at what time to promife, when to pay.
My Father, my Vnckle, and my ſelfe,
Did giue him that fame Royaltie he weares:
And when he was not ſixe and twentie ſtrong,
Sicke in the Worlds regard, wretched, and low,
A poore vnminded Out-law, sneaking home,
My Father gaue him welcome to the ſhore:
And when he heard him ſware, and vow to God,
He came but to be Duke of Lancaſter,
To ſue his Liuerie, and begge his Peace,
With teares of Innocencie, and tearmes of Zeale;
My Father, in kinde heart and pitty mou'd,
Swore him affiſtance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the Lords and Barons of the Realme
Perceu'd Northumberland did leane to him,
The more and leſſe came in with Cap and Knee,
Met him in Boroughs, Cities, Villages,
Attended him on Bridges, ſtood in Lanes,
Layd Gifts before him, proſſer'd him their Oathes,
Gaue him theit Heires, as Pages followed him,
Euen at the heeles, in golden multitudes.
He prefently, as Greatneſſe knowes it ſelfe,
Steps me a little higher then his Vow
Made to my Father, while his blood was poore,
Vpon the naked ſhore at Rauenpurgh:
And now (forlooth) takes on him to reforme
Some certaine Edicts, and ſome ſtrait Decrees,
That lay too heauie on the Common-wealth;
Cryes out upon abufes, ſeemes to weepe
Ouer his Countries Wrongs: and by this Face,
This ſeeming Brow of Iuſtice, did he winne
The hearts of all that hee did angle for.
Proceeded further, cut me off the Heads
Of all the Fauorites, that the abſent King
In deputation left behinde him heere,

When hee was perſonall in the Irish Warre.

Blunt. Tut, I came not to heare this.

Hotſp. Then to the point.
In ſhort time after, hee depos'd the King.
Soone after that, depriu'd him of his Life:
And in the neck of that, task't the whole State,
To make that worſe, ſuffer'd his Kinaſman March,
Who is, if every Owner were plac'd,
Indeede his King, to be engag'd in Wales,
There, without Ransome, to lye forfeited:
Diſgrac'd me in my happie Victories,
Sought to intrap me by intelligence,
Rated my Vnckle from the Councell-Boord,
In rage diſmifs'd my Father from the Court,
Broke Oath on Oath, committed Wrong on Wrong,
And in conclusion, droue vs to ſeeke out
This Head of ſafetie; and withall, to prie
Into his Title: the which wee finde
Too indirect, for long continuance.

Blunt. Shall I returne this anſwer to the King?

Hotſp. Not so, Sir Walter.
Weele with-draw a while:
Goe to the King, and let there be impawn'd
Some ſuretie for a ſafe returne againe,
And in the Morning early ſhall my Vnckle
Bring him our purpose: and ſo farewell.

Blunt. I would you would accept of Grace and Lo.

Hotſp. And't may be, so wee ſhall,

Blunt. Pray Heauen you doe.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter the Arch-Biſhop of York, and Sir Michell.

Arch. Hie, good Sir Michell, beare this ſealed Briefe.
With winged hafe to the Lord Marſhall,
This to my Couſin Scroope, and all the reſt
To whom they are directed.
If you knew how much they doe import,
You would make hafe.

Sir Mich. My good Lord, I gueſſe their tenor,

Arch. Like enough you doe.
To morrow, good Sir Michell, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Muſt bide the touch. For Sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly giuen to vnderstand,
The King, with mightie and quick-rayſed Power,
Meetes with Lord Harry: and I feare, Sir Michell,
What with the ſickneſſe of Northumberland,
Whofe Power was in the firſt proportion;
And what with Owen Gleudowers absence thence,
Who with them was rated firmly too,
And comes not in, ouer-rul'd by Prophecies,
I feare the Power of Percy is too weake,
To wage an inſant tryall with the King.

Sir Mich. Why, my good Lord, you need not ſcare,
There is Dowglas, and Lord Mortimer.

Arch. No, Mortimer is not there.

Sir Mic. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Per
And there is my Lord of Worcester,
And a Head of gallant Warriors,
Noble Gentlemen.

Arch. An.

69

Arch. And so there is, but yet the King hath drawne
The speciall head of all the Land together.
The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
The Noble Westmerland, and warlike Blunt:
And many moe Corriuals, and deare men
Of effination, and command in Atmes.

Sir M. Doubt not my Lord, he shall be well oppos'd

Arch. I hope no leſſe? Yet need full this to ſeare,

And to prevent the worſt, Sir Michell speed.

For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the King
Difſtelle his power, he means to viſit vs:
For he hath heard of our Confederacie,

And, 'tis but Wifedome to make ſtrong againſt him:
Therefore make haſt, I muſt go write againe

To other Friends: and so farewell, Sir Michell.

Exeunt.

## Atus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmerland, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaffe.

King. How bloodyly the Sunne begins to peere
Aboue yon busky hill: the day looks pale
At his diſtemperature.

Prin. The Southerne winde

Doth play the Trumpet to his purposes,
And by his hollow whiffling in the Leaues,
Fortels a Tempeſt, and a bluſh ring day.

King. Then with the louſers let it ſympathize,
For nothing can ſeeme foule to thoſe that win.

The Trumpet sounds.

Enter Worcester.

King. How now my Lord of Worſter? 'Tis not well.
That you and I should meet upon ſuch teameſt,

As now we meet. You haue deceu'd our truſt,
And made vs doſſe our eſtie Robes of Peace,
To cruſh our old limbes in vn gentle Steele:
This is not well, my Lord, this is not well.

What ſay you to it? Will you againe vnknit
This churliſh knot of all-abhorred Warre?
And moue in that obedient Orbe againe,

Where you did giue a ſaire and naturall light,
And be no more an exhal'd Meteor,
A prodigie of Feare, and a Portent

Of broached Mifcheeſt, to the vnborne Times?
War. Heare me, my Liege:
For mine owaue part, I could be well content
To entertaine the Lagge-end of my life
With quiet hours: For I do proteſt,
I haue not fought the day of this diſlike.

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

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

Prin. Peace, Chewet, peace.

Wor. It pleas'd your Maiſtely, to turne your lookes
Of Fauour, from my ſelſe, and all our Houſe;
And yet I muſt remember you my Lord,
We were the firſt, and deareſt of your Friends :

For you, my ſtaſſe of Office did I breake
In Richards time, and poaſt day and night
To meete you on the way, and kiffe your hand,

When yet you were in place, and in account

Nothing ſo ſtrong and fortunate as I
It was my ſelſe, my Brother, and his ſonnes,

That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare

The danger of the time. You ſware to vs,

And you did ſware that Oath at Doncaſter,

That you did nothing of purpose gainſt the State,
Nor claime no further, then your new-falne right,

The feate of Gaunt, Dukedome of Lancaster,

To this, we ſware our aide: But in ſhort ſpace,

It rain'd downe Fortune ſhowring on your head,

And fuch a ſloud of Greatneſſe fell on you,

What with our helpe, what with the absent King,

What with the injueries of wanton time,

The feeming ſufferances that you had borne,

And the contrarious Windes that held the King

So long in the vnlucky Irish Warres,

That all in England did repute him dead:

And from this ſwarme of ſaire aduantages,

You tooke occasion to be quickly wood,

To gripe the generall ſway into your hand:

Forget your Oath to vs at Doncaſter,

And being ſed by vs, you vs'd vs to,

As that vn gentle gull the Cuckowes Bird,

Vſeth the Sparrow, did oppreſſe our Neſt,

Grew by our Feediſt, to ſo great a bulke,

That euen our Loue durſt not come neere your fight

For ſeare of wallowing: But with nimble wing,

We were inſor'd for safety ſake, to flye

Out of your fight, and raiſe this preſent Head,

Whereby we ſtand oppoſed by ſuch means.

As you your ſelſe, haue forſd againſt your ſelſe,

By vnkinde ſlage, dangerous countenance,

And violation of all faith and troth,

Sworpe to vs in yonger enterprize,

Kins. These things inſtinde you haue articulated,

Proclaim'd at Market Crossles, read in Churches,

To face the Garment of Rebellions

With ſome fine colour, that may plesse the eye.

Of ſickle Changelings, and poore Discontents,

Which gape, and rub the Elbow at the newes

Of nurly burly Innouation :

And neuer yet did Inſurrection want

Such water-colours, to toimpaint his cauſe:

Nor moody Beggars, staruing for a time

Of ſpell-mell hauocke, and conſuſion.

Prin. In both our Armies, there is many a ſoule

Shall pay full dearely for this encounter,

If once they ioyne in triall. Tell your Nephew,

The Prince of Wales doth ioyne with all the world

In praisè of Henry Percie: By my Hopes,

This preſent enterprize ſet off his head,

I do not thinde a brauer Gentleman,

More eſtive, valiant, or more valiant yong,

More daring, or more bold, is now aliue,

To grace this latter Age with Noble deeds,

For my part, I may ſpeake it to my ſhame,

I haue a Truant beene to Chivalry,

And fo I heare, he doth account me too,

Yet this before my Fathers Maiſtely,

I am content that he ſhall take the oddes
Of his great name and effination,

Try fortune with him, in a Single ſight.
King. And Prince of Wales, to dare we venter thee,
Albeit, considerations infinite

Do

70 The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.

Do make against it: No good Worrer, no,
We loue our people well; even those we loue
That are milled upon your Coufins part:
And will they take the offer of our Grace :
Both he, and they, and you; yea, every man
Shall be my Friend againe, and Ile be his,
So tell your Coufin, and bring me word;}
What he will do: But if he will not yeeld,
Rebuke and dread correction waite on vs,
And they shall do their Office. So bee gone,
We will not now be troubled with reply,
We offer faire, take it auisuely.

Exit Worcester.

Prin. It will not be accepted, on my life,
The *Douglas* and the *Hotspurre* both together,
Are confident against the world in Armes.

King. Hence therefore, every Leader to his charge,
For on their answer will we set on them;
And God be your friend vs, as our cause is just.

Exenunt.

Manes Prince and Falfaffe.

Fal. Hal, if thou see me downe in the battell,
And bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendfhip.

Prin. Nothing but a Colofus can do thee that friendfhip
Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Fal. I would it were bed time Hal, and all well,

Prin. Why, thou ow't heauen a death.

Falf. 'Tis not due yet: I would bee loath to pay him
before his day. What neede I bee so forward with him,
that call's not on me? Well, 'tis no matter, Honor pricks
me on. But how if Honour pricke me off when I come
on? How then? Can Honour fet too a legge? No: or an
arme? No: Or take away the greefe of a wound? No.
Honour hath no skill in Surgerie, then? No. What is Hon-
nour? A word. What is that word Honour? Ayre: A
trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that dy'd a Wedne-
day. Doth he feele it? No. Doth hee heare it? No. Is it
inferible then? yea, to the dead. But wil it not lie with
the liuing? No. Why? Detraction wil not suffer it, ther-
fore Ile none of it. Honour is a meere Scutcheon, and so
ends my Catechifine.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Vernon.

Wor. O no, my Nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberall kinde offer of the King.

Ver. I were beft he did.

Wor. Then we are all vndone.

It is not poffible, it cannot be,
The King would keepe his word in louing vs,
He will suspect vs still, and finde a time
To punifh this offence in others faults:
Supposition, all our liues, shall be stucke full of eyes;
For Treason is but trusted like the Foxe,
Who ne're so tame, so cherifht, and lock'd vp,
Will have a wilde tricke of his Anceftors :
Looke how he can, or fad or merrily,
Interpretation will miſquote our looks,
And we shall feede like Oxen at a ftall,
The better cherifht, till the nearer death.

My Nephewes trefpaffe may be well forgot,
It hath the excuse of youth, and heate of blood,

And an adopted name of Ptiuledge,
A haire-brain'd *Hotspurre*, gouern'd by a Spleene:
All his offences lie vpon my head,
And on his Fathers. We did traine him on,
And his corruption being tane from vs,
We as the Spring of all, shall pay for all:
Therefore good Coufin, let not Harry know
In any cafe, the offer of the King.

Ver. Dелиuer what you will, Ile fay 'tis so,
Heere comes your Coufin.

Enter Hotspurre.

Hot. My Vnkle is return'd,
Dелиuer vp my Lord of Westmerland.
Vnkle, what newe-?

Wor. The King will bid you battell prefently,

Dow. Defie him by the Lord of Westmerland.

Hot. Lord *Douglas*: Go you and tell him so.

Dow. Marry and ſhall, and verie willingly.

Exit Douglas.

Wor. There is no feeming mercy in the King.

Hot. Did you begge any? God forbid.

Wor. I told him gently of our greeuances,
Of his Oath-breaking: which he mended thus,
By now forſwearing that he is forſworne,
He cals vs Rebels, Traitors, and will ſcourge
With haughty armes, this hatefull name in vs.

Enter *Douglas*.

Dew. Arme Gentlemen, to Armes, for I haue thrown
A braue defiance in King *Henries* teeth:
And Westmerland that was ingag'd did beare it,
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

Wor. The Prince of Wales ſtept forth before the king,
And Nephew, challenging'd you to ſingle fight.

Hot. O, would the quarrell lay vpon our heads,
And that no man might draw ſhort breath to day,
But I and Harry *Monmouth*. Tell me, tell mee,
How ſhew'd his Talking? Seem'd' it in contempt?

Ver. No, by my Soule: I neuer in my life
Did heare a Challenge vrg'd more moderly,
Vnleſſe a Brother ſhould a Brother dare
To gentle exercife, and proofe of Armes.
He gaue you all the Duties of a Man,
Trimm'd vp your prafes with a Princely tongue,
Spoke your deferuings like a Chronicle,
Making you euer better then his prafie,
By ſtil diſpraising prafie, valew'd with you :
And which became him like a Prince indeed,
He made a bluſhing citall of himſelfe,
And chid his Trewant youth with ſuch a Grace,
As if he maſtred there a double ſpirit
Of teaching, and of learning infantly :
There did he paufe. But let me tell the World,
If he out-lie the enuie of this day,
England did neuer owe so ſweet a hope, ?
So much miſconſtrued in his Wantonnesſe.

Hot. Coufin, I thinke thou art enamored
On his Follies: neuer did I heare
Of any Prince so wilde at Liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night,
I will imbrace him with a Souldiers arme,
That he shall ſhrinke vnder my curteſſe.
Arme, arme with ſpeed. And Fellow's, Soldiers, Friends,
Better confider what you haue to do,
That I that haue not well the gift of Tongue,

Can

Can lift your blood vp with perfusion,
Enter a Messanger.

Mef. My Lord, heere are Letters for you.
Hot. I cannot reade them now.

O Gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortneſſe basely, were too long.
If life did ride vpon a Dials point,
Full ending at the arriual of an hour,
And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings:
And if braue death, when Princes dye with vs.
If dye; and then our Conſences, the Armes is faire,
Now for our Intention for bearing them is iuſt.
When the intent for bearing them is iuſt.
Enter another Messanger.

Mef. My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot. I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tales:
For I proſeſſe not talking: Only this,

For I proſeſſe not talking: Only this,
Leaſch man do his beſt. And heere I draw a Sword,
Whofe worthy temper I intend to ſtaine
With the beſt blood that I can meete withall,
The aduenture of this perilous day.

In the aduenture of this perilous day.
Now Efperance Percy, and ſet on :
Sound all the lofty Inſtruments of Warre,
And by that Mufick e, let vs all imbrace :
For heauen to earth, ſome of vs neuer ſhall,
A ſecond time do ſuch a curteſſe.

They embrace the Trumpets found, the King entereth
with his power, alarum unto the battell. Then enter
Douglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. What is thy name, that in battel thus y croſſed me?
What honor doſt thou ſeeke vpon my head?

Dow. Know then my name is *Douglas*,
And I do haunt thee in the battell thus,
Because ſome tell me, that thou art a King.
Blunt. They tell me true.

Dow. The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought

Thy likeneſſe: for inſted of thee King Harry,
This Sword hath ended him, ſo ſhall it thee,
Valeſſe thou yceld thee as a Prifoner.

Blunt. I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot,

And thou halt ſinde a King that will reuencenge
Lords Staffords death.

Fight, Blunt is ſaine, then enters Hot spur.

Hot. O *Douglas*, hadſt thou fought at Holmedon thus
I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot.

Dow. All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king

Hot. Where?

Dow. Heere.

Dow. This *Douglas*? No, I know this face full well :

A gallant Knight he was, his name was *Blunt*,
Simbably furniſh'd like the King himselfe.

Dow. Ah ſoole: go with thy ſoule whether it goes,

A borrowed Title haſt thou bought too deere.

Why didst thou tell me, that thou wert a King?

Hot. The King hath many marching in his Coats.

Dow. Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates,
He murder all his Wardrobe piece by piece,
Vainly meet the King.

Hot. Vp, and away,

Our Souldiers stand full fairely for the day.

Exeunt

Alarum, and enter *Eulſaffa folſes*.

Fal. Though I could ſcape ſot-free at London, I fear
the ſhot heere: here's no ſcoring, but vpon the pate.
Soft who are you? Sir Walter *Blunt*, there's Honour for you:
here's no vanity, I am as hot as molten Lead, and as hea-
uy too: heauen keepe Lead out of me; I neede no more
weight then mine owne Bowelles. I haue led my rag of

Muffins where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my
150. left aline, and they for the Townes end, to beg du-
ring life. But who comes heere?

Enter the Prince.

Pri. What, ſtand'ſt thou idle here? Lend me thy ſword,
Many a Nobleman likes ſtarke and ſtiffe
Vnder the hooues of vaunting enemies,
Whofe deaths are vnreueſd. Prethy lend me thy ſword

Fal. O Hal, I prethee give me leaue to breath awhil:
Turke Gregory neuer did ſuch deeds in Armes, as I haue
done this day. I haue paid Percy, I haue made him ſure.

Prin. He is indeed, and liuing to kill thee :
I prethee lend me thy ſword.

Falſt. Nay Hal, if Percy bee aline, thou getſt not my
Sword; but take my Piftoll if thou wilt.

Prin. Gine it me: What, is it in the Cafe?

Fal. I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sacke a City.

The Prince draws out a Bottle of Sacke.

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

Exit.
Throwes it at him.

Fal. If Percy be aline, Ile pierce him: if he do come in
my way, ſo: if he do not, if I come in his (willingly) let
him make a Carbonado of me. I like not ſuch grinning
honour as Sir Walter hath: Giue mee life, which if I can
faue, ſo: if not, honour comes vnlook'd for, and ther's an
end.

Exit

## Scena Tertia.

Alarum, excursions, enter the King, the Prince,
Lord John of Lancaſter, and Earle
of Westmerland.

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

P. Iob. No, my Lord, vnleſſe I did bleed too.

Prin. I beſeech your Maiefy make vp,

Leaſt you retirement do amaze your friends.

King. I will do so:

My Lord of Westmerland leade him to his Tent.

Weſt. Come my Lord, Ile leade you to your Tent.

Prin. Lead me my Lord? I do not need your heipe;

And heauen forbid a ſhallow ſcratch should drive

The Prince of Wales from ſuch a field as this,

Where ſtain'd Nobility lies troden on,

And Rebels Armes triumph in maſſacres.

Iob. We breath too long: Come coſin Westmerland,
Our duty this way lies, for heueaus ſake come.

Prin. By heauen thou haſt decciu'd me Lancaſter,
I did not thinke thee Lord of ſuch a ſpirit.

Before, I lou'd thee as a Brother, John;

But now, I do reſpect thee as my Soule.

King. I saw him hold Lord Percy at the points,
With luſtler maintenance then I did looke for

Of ſuch an ungrowne Warriour.

Prin. O this Boy, lends mettall to vs all.

Enter *Douglas*.

Dow. Another King? They grow like Hydra's heads:
I am the *Douglas*, fatall to all thofe.

That weare those colours on them. What art thou

That counterfeit ſt the perſon of a King?

King. The King himselfe: who *Douglas* grieues at hart

So

So many of his shadowes thou haſt met,
And not the very King. I haue two Boyes
Seeke Percy and thy ſelfe about the Field:
But feeing thou fall on me so luckily,
I will affay thee: so defend thy ſelfe.

Dom. I feare thou art another counterfeit:
And yet infaith thou bear'st thee like a King:
But mine I am sure thou art, whoere thou be,
And thus I win thee. They fight, the K. being in danger,
Enter Prince.

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

They Fight, Dowglas flyeth.
Cheerely My Lord: how fare's your Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gauſay hath for succour ſent,
And so hath Clifton: Ile to Clifton ſtraight.

King. Stay, and breath awhile.
Thou haſt redeem'd thy loft opinion,
And ſhew'd thou mak'st some tender of my life
In this faire refcue thou haſt brought to me.

Prin. O heauen, they did me too much injury,
That euer I hearkn'd to your death.
If it were so, I might haue let alone
The insulting hand of Dowglas ouer you,
Which would haue bene as ſpeedy in your end,
As all the poyſonous Potions in the world,
And fau'd the Treacherous labour of your Sonne.

K. Make vp to Clifton, Ile to Sir Nicholas Gauſay. Exit
Enter Hotſpur.

Hot. If I miſake not, thou art Harry Monmouth,
Prin. Thou ſpeak'st as if I would deny my name.

Hot. My name is Harrie Percie.

Prin. Why then I fee a very valiant rebel of that name,
I am the Prince of Wales, and thinke not Percy,
To thine with me in glory any more:
Two Starres keepe not their motion in one Sphere,
Nor can one England brooke a double reigne,
Of Harry Percy, and the Prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall it Harry, for the houre is come
To end the one of vs; and would to heauen,
Thy name in Armes, were now as great as mine.

Prin. Ile make it greater, ere I part from thee,
And all the budding Honors on thy Creft,
Ile crop, to make a Garland for my head.

Hot. I can no longer brooke thy Vanities. Fight.
Enter Falſaffe.

Fal. Well said Hat, to it Hat. Nay you shall finde no Boyes play here, I can tell you.

Enter Dowglas he fights withb Falſaffe, who fals down
as if he were dead. The Prince killeth Percie.

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

Then those proud Titles thou haſt wonne of me,
They would my thoughts worſe, then the Iword my fleſh:
But though it's the flau of Life, and Life, Times foole;
And Time, that takes ſuney of all the world,
Must haue an aſtop. O, it could Propheſie,
But that the Earth, and the cold hand of death,
Lyes on my Tongue: No Percy, thou art duſt
And food for.

Prin. For Wormes, braue Percy. Farewell great heart:
Ill-weau'd Ambition, how much art thou ſhrunke?
When that this bodie did containe a ſpirit,

A Kingdome for it was too ſmall a bound:
But now two paces of the vileſt Earth
Is roome enough. This Earth that beares the dead,
Beares not alioe ſto ſout a Gentleman,
If thou wer't ſenſible of curteſe,
I should not make so great a ſhow of Zeale,
But let my ſauours hide thy mangled face,
And euen in thy behalſe, Ile thanke my ſelfe
For doing these ſayre Rites of Tenderneſſe,
Adieu, and take thy praiſe with thee to heauen,
Thy ignomy ſleepe with thee in the graue,
But not remembred in thy Epitaph.

What? Old Acquaintance? Could not all this fleſh
Keepe in a little life? Poore Iacke, farewell:
I could haue better ſpar'd a better man,
O, I should haue a heavy miffle of thee,
If I were much in loue with Vanity.

Death hat not strucke so fat a Deere to day,
Though many dearer in this bloody Fray:
Imbowell'd will I fee thee by and by,
Till then, in blood, by Noble Pereſe lye.

Falſaffe rſeth vp.

Ext.

Falſe. Imbowell'd? If thou imbowell mee to day,
I giue you leaue to powder me, and eat me too to morow.
'Twas time to counterſet, or that hotte Termagant Soſt
had paid me ſeet and lot too, Counterſeit? I am no coun-
terſeit; to dye, is to be a counterfeit, for ſee is but a
counterſeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man; but
to counterſeit dying, when a man thereby liueth, is to be
no counterfeit, but the true and perſect image of life deede.
The better part of Valour, is Discretion ; in the
which better part, I haue faued my life. I am aſſaide in
this Gun-powder Percy, though he be dead. How ſhe
should counterfeit too, and rife? I am aſſaide hee would
proue the better counterſeit: therefore Ile make him ſent
yea, and Ile ſwaree I kill'd him. Why may not hee rife as
well as I : Nothing confutes me but eyes, and no-bood
fees me. Therefore ſirra, with a new wound in your thigh
come you along me.

Takes Hotſpurre on his back.

Enter Prince and John of Lancaſter.

Prin. Come Brother Lohn, full brauely haſt thou fleſh
thy Maiden ſword.

John. But ſoft, who haue we heere?
Did you not tell me this Fat man was dead?

Prin. I did, I ſaw him dead,
Breathleſſe, and bleeding on the ground: Art thou alive?
Or is it ſantafie that playes vpon our eye-fight?
I prethee ſpeake, we will not truſt our eyes
Without our eares. Thou art not what thou ſeem'st.

Fal. No, that's certaine: I am not a double man: but
if I be not Jacke Falſaffe, then am I Iacke: There is Per-
cy, if your Father will do me any Honor, ſo: if not, let him
kill the next Percie himselfeſe. I looke to be either Earle
Duke, I can aſſure you.

Prin. Why, Percy I kill'd my ſelfe, and ſaw the dead.

Fal. Did it thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is giu'd
to Lying? I graunt you I was downe, and out of Breath
and so was he, but we roſe both at an inſat, and fough
a long houre by Shrewsburie clocke. If I may bee bele-
ued, so: if not, let them that should reward Valour, beaue
the finne vpon their owne heads. I take't on my death
I gaue him this wound in the Thigh: if the man were to
lie, and would deny it, I would make him eate a peace
of my Iword.

John. This is the strangeſt Tale that e're I heard.

Prin. This is the strangeſt Fellow, Brother Iohn.

Com-

Come bring your luggage Nobly on your backe :
For my part, if a lye may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest tearmes I haue.
*A Retreat is founded.*

The Trumpets found Retreat, the day is ours:
Come Brother, let's to the highest of the field,
To see what Friends are liuing, who are dead.
Exeunt

To see what Friends are liuing, who are dead.
Exeunt
Fal. Ile follow as they say, for Reward. Hee that re-
wards me, heauen reward him. If I do grow great again,
Ile grow lesse? For Ile purge, and leaue Sacke, and liue
cleanly, as a Nobleman should do.
Exit

## Scena Quarta.

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

King. Thus euer did Rebellion finde Rebuke,
All-printed Worcester, did we not send Grace,
Pardon, and tearmes of Loue to all of you ?
And would it thou turne our offers contrary ?
Mistie the tenor of thy Kioſmans truſt ?

Mistie the tenor of thy Kioſmans truſt ?
Three Knights vpon our party flaine to day,
A Noble Earle, and many a creature elſe,
Had beene alive this houre,

If like a Christian thou had it truly borne

Bewixt our Armies, true Intelligence.

War. What I haue done, my safety vrg'd me to,

And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be auoyded, it falls on mee.

King. Beare Worcester to death, and Vernon too:
Other Offenders we will paſe vpon.

Exit worceſter and Vernon.

How goes the Field?

Prin. The Noble Scot Lord *Dowglas*, when hee saw

The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,

The Noble *Percy* flaine, and all his men,

Vpon the foot of ſeare, fled with the reſt;

And falling from a hill, he was so bruiz'd

That the purſuers tooke him. At my Tent

The *Dowglas* is, and I beſeech your Grace.

I may diſpoe of him.

King. With all my heart,

Prin. Then Brother *John* of Lancaster,

To you this honourable bounty shall belong:

Go to the *Dowglas*, and deliuer him

Vp to his pleaſure, ranoſomeſſe and free :

His Valour ſhewne vpon our Creſts to day,

Hath taught vs how to cheriſh ſuch high deeds,

Euen in the boſome of our Aduerſaries.

King. Then this remaines: that we diuide our Power.

You Sonne *John*, and my Cousin Westmerland

Towards Yorke shall bend you, with your deereſt ſpeed

To meet Northumberland, and the Prelate *Scroope*,

Who (as we heare) are busily in Armes.

My ſelſe, and you Sonne *Harry* will towards Wales,

To fight with *Glendower*, and the Earle of March,

Rebellion in this Land shall loſe his way,

Meeting the Checke of ſuch another day :

And ſince this Bufineſſe ſo faire is done,

Let vs not leaue till all our owne be wonne.

Exeunt.

## FINIS.

74

# The Second Part of Henry the Fourth
## Containing his Death : and the Coronation
of King Henry the Fift.

Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.

## INDUCTION.

Enter Rumour.

Pen your Eares : For which of you will stop
the vent of Hearing, when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the Orient, to the drooping West
(Making the winde my Poft-horfe) still vnfold

The Acts commenced on this Ball of Earth.

Vpon my Tongue, continuall Slanders ride,

The which, in every Language, I pronounce,

Stuffing the Eares of them with false Reports :

I (speake of Peace, while couert Enmitie

(Vnder the smile of Safety) wounds the World :

And who but Rumour, who but onely I

Make fearfull Mutters, and prepar'd Defence,

Whilft the bigge yeare, fwolne with some other griefes,

Is thought with childe, by the ferne Tyrant, Warre,

And no such matter? Rumour, is a Pipe

Blowne by Surmifes, Ieloufies, Coniectures;

And of fo eafie, and fo plaine a stop,

That the blunt Monfer, with vncounted heads,

The still discordant, wauering Multitude,

Can play vpon it. But what neede I thus

My well-knowne Body to Anathomize

Among my household? Why is Rumour heere?

I run before King Harries victory,

Who in a bloodie field by Shrewsburie

Hath beaten downe yong Hotpurres, and his Troopes,

Quenching the flame of bold Rebellion,

Euen with the Rebels blood. But what meane I

To speake so true at firft? My Office is

To noyfe abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell

Vnder the Wrath of Noble Hotpurres Sword :

And that the King, before the Dowglas Rage,

Stoop'd his Annointed head, as low as death.

This haue I rumour'd through the peasant-Townes,

Betweene the Royall Field of Shrewsburie,

And this Worme-eaten-Hole of ragged Stone,

Where Hotpurres Father, old Northumberland,

Lyes crafty fikce. The Pofles come tyring on,

And not a man of them brings other newes

Then they haue learn'd of Me. From Rumours Tongues,

They bring smooth-Comforts-false, worfe then True-

wrongs.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Lord Bardolfe, and the Porter.

L. Bar. Who keepest the Gate heere hos?

Where is the Earle?

Por. What shall I say you are?

Bar. Tell thou the Earle

That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere.

Por. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the Orchard,
Please it your Honor, knocke but at the Gate,
And he himselfe will answer.

Enter Northumberland.

L. Bar. Heere comes the Earle.

Nor. What newes Lord Bardolfe? Eu'ry minute now
Should be the Father of some Stratagem?

The Times are wilde : Contention (like a Horfe

Full of high Feeding) madly hath broke looke,

And beares downe all before him.

L. Bar. Noble Earle,

I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury.

Nor. Good, and heauen will.

L. Bar. As good as heart can wifh :

The King is almoft wounded to the death :

And in the Fortune of my Lord your Sonne,

Prince Harrie flaine out-right: and both the Blunts

Kill'd by the hand of Dowglas. Yong Prince Iohn,

And Westmerland, and Stafford, fled the Field,

And Harrie Monmouth's Brawne (the Faulke Sir Iohn)

Is prisoner to your Sonne. O, such a Day,

(So fought, so follow'd, and so fairely wonne)

Came not, till now, to dignifie the Times

Since Cafars Fortunes.

Nor. How is this deru'd?

Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury?

L. Bar. I speake with one (my L.) that came fro then,
A Gentleman well bred, and of good name,
That freely render'd me thefe newes for true.

Nor. Heere comes my Servant Trauers, whom I fea
On Tuesday last, to liften after Newes.

Enter Trauers.

L. Bar. My Lord, I ouer-rod him on the way,
And he is furnifh'd with no certainties,

More then he (haply) may retale from me.

Nor, Now Trauers, what good tidings comes from you?

The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.

75

Tra. My Lord, Sir John Umfreuill turn'd me backe
With joyfull tydings; and (being better hors'd)
Out-rod me. After him, came spurring head
A Gentleman (almost fore-spent with speed)
That fopp'd by me, to breath his bloodied horse,
He ask'd the way to Chefter : And of him
I did demand what Newes from Shrewsbury :
He told me, that Rebellion had ill lucke,
And that yong Harry Percies Spurre was cold.
And that he gaue his able Horse the head,
And bending forwards stooke his able heeles
Against the panting fides of his pooe Iade
Vp to the Rowell head, and flarting so,
He seem'd in running, to deuoure the way,
Staying no longer quection.

North. Ha? Againe:

Said he yong Harrie Percyes Spurre was cold ?
(Of Hot-Spurre, cold-Spurre?) that Rebellion,
Had met ill lucke ?

L. Bar. My Lord: Ile tell you what,
If any Yong Lord your Sonne, haue not the day,
Vpon mine Honor, for a filken point
I'll gueue my Barony. Neuer talke of it.

Nor. Why should the Gentleman that rode by Travers

Gue then such instances of Loffe ?

L. Bar. Who, he?

He was some hielding Fellow, that had ftolne

The Horfe he rode-on: and vpon my life

Speake at aduenture. Looke, here comes more Newes.

Enter Morton.

Nor. Yea, this mans brow, like to a Title-leafe,
Fore-tels the Nature of a Tragicke Volume:
So lookes the Strond, when the Imperious Flood
Hath left a wintef Vfurpation,

Say Morton, did it thou come from Shrewsbury ?

Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury (my Noble Lord)
Where hatefull death put on his vglieft Maske
To fright our party.

North. How doth my Sonne, and Brother?
Thou trembl't; and the whitenesse in thy Cheeke
Is apter then thy Tongue, to tell thy Errand.
Euen such a man, so faint, so spiritlesse,
So dull, so dead in looke, so woe-be-gone,
Drew Priams Curtaine, in the dead of night,
And would haue told him, Halfe his Troy was burn'd.
But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue:

And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it.

This, thou would't fay: Your Sonne did thus, and thus:
Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas,
Stopping my greedy care, with their bold deeds.
But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed)
Thou haft a Sigh, to blow away this Praife,
Ending with Brother, Sonne, and all are dead.

Mor. Dowglas is luing, and your Brother, yet:
But for my Lord, your Sonne.

North. Why, he is dead.

See what a ready tongue Suſpition hath :
Hath that but feares the thing, he would not know,
Hath by Intinſt, knowledge from others Eyes,
That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet ſpeake (Morton)
Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies,
And I will take it, as a ſweet Diſgrace,
And make thee rich, for doing me such wrong.

Mor. You are too great, to be (by me) gainſaid:

Your Spirit is too true, your Feares too certaine.

North. Yet for all this, ſay not that Percies dead,
I fee a ſtrange Conſeſſion in thine Eye:

Thou shak't thy head, and hold it Feare, or Sinne,
To ſpeake a truth. If he be flaine, ſay so:

The Tongue offends not, that reports his death :

And he doth finne that doth belye the dead :

Not he, which fayes the dead is not aliue :

Yet the firſt bringer of vnwelcome Newes

Hath but a loofing Office: and his Tongue,

Sounds euerm after as a ſullen Bell

Remembred, knolling a departing Friend.

L. Bar. I cannot thinke (my Lord) your ſon is dead.

Mor. I am ſorry, I should force you to beleeue
That, which I would to heauen, I had not ſene.

But these mine eyes, ſaw him in bloody ſtate,

Rend'ring faint quittance (wearied, and out-breath'd)

To Henrie Monmouth, whose ſwift wrath beate downe
The neuer-daunted Percie to the earth,

From whence (with life) he neuer more ſprung vp.

In few; his death (whose ſpirit lent a fire,

Euen to the dulleſt Peazant in his Campe)

Being bruited once, tooke fire and heate away

From the beſt temper'd Courage in his Troopes.

For from his Mettle, was his Party ſeel'd;

Which once, in him abated, all the reſt

Turn'd on themſelues, like dull and heavy Lead :

And as the Thing, that's heavy in it ſelfe,

Vpon enforcement, flyes with greatest ſpeede,

So did our Men, heavy in Hot-purres loſſe,

Lend to this weight, such lightneſſe with their Feare,
That Arrowes ſled not ſwifter toward their ayme,
Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their ſafety)

Fly from the field. Then was that Noble Worceſter

Too ſoon ta'ne prifoner: and that ſurious Scot,
(The bloody Dowglas) whose well-labouring ſword
Had three times flaine th'appearance of the King,
Gan vaile his ſtomacke, and did grace the ſhame
Of those that turn'd their backes: and in his flight,
Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The ſumme of all,

Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath ſent out

A ſpeedy power, to encounter you my Lord,

Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancafter

And Weſtmerland. This is the Newes at full.

North. For this, I ſhall haue time enough to mourne.
In Poyſon, there is Phyſicke: and this newes
(Hauing beene well) that would haue made me ſicke,
Being ſicke, haue in ſome meaſure, made me well.
And as the Wretch, whose ſeuer-weakned ioynts,
Like ſtrengthleſſe Hindges, buckle vnder life,
Impatient of his Fit, breaks like a fire

Out of his keepers armes : Euen so, my Limbes
(Weak'ned with greeſe) being now inrag'd with greeſe,
Are thrice themſelues. Hence therefore thou nice crutch,
A ſcalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele
Muſt gloue this hand. And hence thou fickly Quoife,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which Princes, ſlesh'd with Conqueſt, ayme to hit.
Now binde my Browes with Iron, and approach
The ragged'ft houre, that Time and Spight dare bring
To ſrowne vpon th'enrag'd Northumberland.
Let Heauen kiffe Earth: now let not Natures hand
Keepe the wilde Flood confin'd: Let Order dye,
And let the world no longer be a ſlage

To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act:

But let one ſpirit of the Firſt-borne Caine

Reigne

g

76 The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.

Reigne in all bosomes, that each heart being feet
On bloody Courfes, the rude Scene may end,
And darknesse be the burier of the dead. (Honor.

L. Bar. Sweet Earle, divorce not wifedom from your
Mor. The liues of all your louing Complices
Leane-on your health, the which if you give o're

To stormy Passion, muft perforce decay.
You cauſt the event of Warre (my Noble Lord).

And fumm'd the accompt of Chance, before you faid
Let vs make head: It was your prefurmize,
That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop.

You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge

More likely to fall in, then to get o're:

You were aduis'd his fifeh was capable

Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit

Would lift him, where moſt trade of danger rang'd,
Yet did you lay go forth: and none of this

(Though strongly apprehended) could reſtraine
The ſtiffe-borne Action: What hath then beſtalne?

Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth,
More then that Being, which was like to be?

L. Bar. We all that are engaged to this loffe,
Knew that we ventur'd on ſuch dangerous Seas,
That if we wrought our life, was ten to one :

And yet we ventur'd for the gaine propos'd,
Choak'd the reſpect of likely perill ſear'd,
And ſince we are o're-fer, venture againe.

Come, we will all put forth; Body, and Goods,

Mor.' Tis more then time: And (my moſt Noble Lord)
I heare for certaine, and do ſpeake the truth:

The gentle Arch-bishop of Yorke is vp

With well appointed Powres: he is a man

Who with a double Surety bindes his Followers.

My Lord (your Sonne) had onely but the Corpes,
But ſhadowes, and the ſhewes of men to fight.

For that fame word (Rebellion) did diuide
The action of their bodies, from their ſoules,
And they did fight with queſaſſe, constrain'd

As men drinke Potions; that their Weapons only
Seem'd on our ſide: but for their Spirits and Soules,
This word (Rebellion) it had froze them vp,

As Fife are in a Pond. But now the Bishop
Turnes Inſurrection to Religion,

Suppos'd ſincere, and holy in his Thoughts:

He's follow'd both with Body, and with Minde:

And doth enlarge his Rıſing, with the blood

Of faire King Richard, ſcap'd from Pomfret ſtones,
Deriues from heauen, his Quarrell, and his Caufe :

Tels them, he doth beſtride a bleeding Land,

Gaſping for life, under great Bullingbrooke,
And more, and leſſe, do ſlocke to follow him.

North. I knew of this before. But to ſpeake truth,
This preſent graeſe had wip'd it from my minde.

Go in with me, and councell every man

The aptest way for safety, and revenge:

Get Poſts, and Letters, and make Friends with ſpeed,

Neuer so few, nor neuer yet more need.

Excent.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Falſtaffe, and Page.

Fal. Sirra, you, giant, what faies the Doſt to my water?

Pag. He faid ſir, the water it ſelfe was a good healthy water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might haue more diſeafes then he knew for.

Fal. Men of all forts take a pride to gird at mee; the

braine of this fooliſh compounded Clay-man, is not able
to inuent any thing that tends to laughter, more then
inuent, or is inuented on me. I am not onely witty in
my ſelfe, but the caufe that wit is in other men. I doe here
walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'reheim'd all
her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Se-
uice for any other reaſon, then to ſet mee off, why then
haue no iudgement. Thou horſon Mandrake, thou art
fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeleſ.
was neuer man'd with an Agot till now: but I will ſet
you neyther in Gold, nor Siluer, but in vilde apparell,
and fend you backe againe to your Maſter, for a lewell. The
Iuuenall (the Prince your Maſter) whose Chin is not yet
ſledg'd, I will fooner haue a beard grow in the Palme of
my hand, then he ſhall get one on his cheeke: yet he will
not ſticke to ſay, his Face is a Face-Royall. Heauen may
ſinifh it when he will, it is not a haire amiffe yet: he may
keepe it ſtill at a Face-Royall, for a Barber ſhall neuer
earne ſix pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as it
he had writ man cuer ſince his Father was a Batchellour.
He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almoſt out of
mine, I can aſſure him. What ſaid M. Dombledon, about
the Satten for my ſhort Cloake, and Slops?

Pag. He ſaid ſir, you ſhould procure him better Aſſe-
rance, then Bardolſe: he wold not take his Bond & yours,
he lik'd not the Security.

Fal. Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his Tongue be hotter, a horſon Achitophel; a Rascally-yes- forfooth-ka naive, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then ſtand vpon Security ? The horſon ſmooth-pates doe now weare nothing but high ſhoes, and bunches of Keyes at their girdles: and if a man is through with them in ho- neſt Taking-vp, then they muſt ſtand vpon Securite: I had as lieſe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to ſtopſe it with Security. I look'd hee ſhould haue ſent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true Knight) and he ſends me Security. Well, he may ſleep in Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance : and the lightneſſe of his Wife ſhines through it, and yet cannot he ſee, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him. Where's Bardolſe?

Pag. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worſhip
a horſe.

Fal. I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horſe
in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes,
I were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wi'u'd.

Enter Chieſe Iuſtice, and Servant.

Pag. Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed
the Prince for striking him, about Bardolſe.

Fal. Wait close, I will not ſee him.

Ch. Iuſt. What's he that goes there?

Ser. Falſtaffe, and't pleafe your Lordship.

Iuſt. He that was in queſtion for the Robbers?

Ser. He my Lord, but he hath ſince done good ſenſu-
at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) his now going with ſome
Charge, to the Lord John of Lancaſter.

Iuſt. What to Yorke? Call him backe againe.

Ser. Sir John Falſtaffe.

Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deafe.

Pag. You muſt ſpeake lowder, my Maſter is deafe.

Iuſt. I am ſure he is, to the hearing of any thing good
Go plucke him by the Elbow, I muſt ſpeake with him.

Ser. Sir John.

Fal. What's a yong ka naive and beg? Is there not warres
there not imployment? Doth not the K. lack ſubieſt? Do
not the Rebell want ſoldiers? Though it be a ſhame to be
on

77

on any fide but one, it is worfe fhame to begge, then to be on the worft fide, were it worfe then the name of Re-lation can tell how to make it.

Ser. You miftake me Sirs.

Fal. Why fir? Did I fay you were an honest man? Settling my Knight-hood, and my Souldier-ship afide, I had lay'd in my throat, if I had faid so.

Ser. I pray you (Sir) then fet your Knighthood and your Souldier-ship afide, and giue mee leaque to tell you, you're in your throat, if you fay I am any other then an honest man.

Fal. I guee thee leaque to tell me fo ? I lay a fide that which growes to me? If thou get't any leaque of me, hang me: if thou tak't leaque, thou wert better be hang'd : you Hant-counter,hence : Auant.

Ser. Sir, my Lord would ſpeake with you.

Inſ. Sir John Falſaffe, a word with you.

Fal. My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of the day. I am glad to fee your Lordship abroad: I heard ſay your Lordship was fücke. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by aduſe. Your Lordship (though not clean paſt your youth) hath yet ſome ſmack of age in you: ſome rel-ſiſh of the falneſſe of Time, and I moſt humbly beſeech your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health.

Inſ. Sir John, I ſent you before your Expedition, to Sweshurie.

Fal. If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maieſtie is rem'd with ſome diſcomſort from Wales.

Inſ. I talke not of his Maieſtly : you would not come when I ſent for you ?

Fal. And I heare moreouer, his Highneſſe is falne into this fame horſon Apoplexie. (you.

Inſ. Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me ſpeak with you.

Fal. This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie, a ſleeping of the blood, a horſon Tingling.

Inſ. What tell you me of it ? be it as it is.

Fal. It hath it originall from much greeſe; from ſtudy and perſumption of the braine. I haue read the cauſe of the effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenſe.

Inſ. I thinke you are falne into the diſeafe : For you beare not what I ſay to you.

Fal. Very well (my Lord) very well : rather an't plesae you) it is the diſeafe of not Lifting, the malady of not Marking, that I am troubled withall.

Inſ. To puniſh you by the heeles, would amend the attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian.

Fal. I am as poore as Ioh, my Lord; but not ſo Patient: your Lordship may minifter the Potion of imprifonment to me, in ſ respect of Pouerrie: but how I should bee your Patient, to follow your preſcriptions, the wife may make ſome dram of a [cruple], or indeede, a [cruple] it ſelſe.

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

Fal. As I was then aduifed by my learned Councell, in the lawes of this Land, ſeruice, I did not come.

Inſ. Wel, the truth is (ſir Ioh) you lie in great infamy.

Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot lie in leſſe.

Inſ. Your Meanes is very ſlender, and your waſt great.

Fal. I would it were otherwife : I would my Meanes were greater, and my waſte ſlenderer.

Inſ. You haue miſſed the youthfull Prince.

Fal. The yong Prince hath miſſed mee. I am the Fel- low with the great belly, and he my Dogge.

Inſ. What time, for your quiet o're-poſing that Action.

Fal. My Lord?

(Wolfe.)

Inſ. But ſince all is wel, keep it ſo: wake not a ſleeping

Fal. To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to ſmell a Fox.

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

Fal. A Waffell-Candle, my Lord; all Tallow : if I did ſay of wax, my growth would approue the truth.

Inſ. There is not a white haire on your face, but ſhold haue his effect of grauity.

Fal. His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy.

Inſ. You follow the yong Prince vp and downe, like his cuill Angell.

Fal. Not ſo (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I hope, he that lookes upon mee, will take mee without weighing: and yet, in ſome reſpects I grant, I cannot go: I cannot tell. Vertue is of ſo little regard in these Coſtor-mongers, that true valor is turn'd Beare-heard. Pregnan-cie is made a Tapſter, and hath his quicke wit waffed in giuing Recknings: all the other giſts appertinent to man (as the malice of this Age ſhapes them) are not worth a Gooseberry. You that are old, confider not the capaci-ties of vs that are yong: you meaſure the heat of our Li-uers, with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the vaward of our youth, I muſt conſeſſe, are wagges too.

Inſ. Do you ſet downe your name in the ſcrowle of youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charrac-ters of age? Haue you not a moſt eye? a dry hand? a yel-low cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde ſhort? your wit ſingle? and every part about you blaſted with Ant-i-quality? and wil you cal your ſelſe yong? Fy, ſy, ſy, fir Ioh.

Fal. My Lord, I was borne with a white head, & ſom-thing a round belly. For my voice, I haue loft it with hal-lowing and ſinging of Antheemes. To approue my youth farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudge-ment and vnderſtanding: and he that will caper with mee for a thouſand Markes, let him lend me the mony, & haue at him. For the boxe of the'are that the Prince gauſe you, he gauſe it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a ſenſi-ble Lord. I haue checkt him for it, and the yong Lion re-pents: Marry not in a ſhes and ſacke-cloath, but in new Silke, and old Sacke.

Inſ. Wel, heauen ſend the Prince a better companion.

Fal. Heauen ſend the Companion a better Prince : I cannot rid my hands of him.

Inſ. Well, the King hath ſeuer'd you and Prince Har-ry, I heare you are going with Lord Iohu of Lancafter, a-gainſt the Archbifhop, and the Earle of Northumberland.

Fal. Yes, I thanke your pretty ſweet wit for it : but looke you pray, (all you that kiffe my Ladie Peace, at home) that our Armies ioyn not in a hot day: for if I take but two ſhirts out with me, and I meane not to ſweat ex-traordinarily : if it bee a hot day, if I brandſh any thing but my Bottle, would I might neuer ſpit white againe : There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head, but I am thurſt upon it. Well, I cannot laſt euer.

Inſ. Well, be honest, be honest, and heauen bleſſe your Expedition.

Fal. Wall your Lordſhip lend mee a thouſand pound, to furniſh me forth?

Inſ. Not a peny, not a pence: you are too impatient to beare croſſes. Fare you well. Commend mee to my Colin Weſtmerland.

Fal. If I do, ſillop me with a three-man-Beetle. A man can no more ſeparate Age and Couetouneſſe, then he can part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the one,

g 2

one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the De-
grees preuent my curfes. Boy ?

Page. Sir.

Fat. What money is in my purse ?

Page. Seuen groats, and two pence.

Fal. I can get no remedy against this Consumption of
the purse. Borrowing onely lingers, and lingers it out,
but the difeafe is incurable. Go beare this letter to my
Lord of Lancafter, this to the Prince, this to the Earle of
Westmerland, and this to old Miftris Orfula, whome I
haue weekly fworne to marry, since I perceiued the first
white haire on my chin. About it: you know where to
find me. A pox of this Gowt, or a Gowt of this Poxe :
for the one or th'other playes the rogue with my great
toe: It is no matter, if I do halt, I haue the warres for my
colour, and my Pension fhall feeme the more reasonable.
A good wit will make vfe of any thing: I will turne dif-
eafees to commodity.

Exeunt

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Archibhop, Haftings, Mowbray, and
Lord Bardolfe.

Ar. Thus haue you heard our caufes, & kno our Means :
And my moft noble Friends, I pray you all
Speake plainly your opinions of our hopes,
And first (Lord Marshall) what fay you to it?

Mow. I well allow the occafion of our Armes,
But gladly would be better fafisbed,
How (in our Meanes) we fhould aduance our ſelues
To looke with forhead bold and big enough
Vpon the Power and puifance of the King.

Haft. Our prefent Mufters grow vpon the File
To fiue and twenty thoufand men of choice;
And our Supplies, like largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose boſome burnes
With an incensed Fire of Iniuries.

L.Bar. The question then (Lord Haſtings) standeth thus
Whether our prefent ſiue and twenty thouſand
May hold- vp-head, without Northumberland:

Haſt. With him, we may.

L. Bar. I marry, there's the point:
But if without him we be thought to feeble,
My judgement is, we should not step too farre
Till we had his Aſſtance by the hand.

For in a Theame ſo bloody fac'd, as this,
Conieſture, Expeſtation, and Surmiſe
Of Aydes incertaine, ſhould not be admittet.

Arch. Tis very true Lord Bardolſe, for indeed
It was yong Hotſpurreſe cafe, at Shrewsbury.

L. Bar. It was (my Lord) who lin'd himſelf with hope,
Eating the ayre, on promife of Supply,
Flatt'ring himſelfe with Proi'eit of a power,
Much ſmaller, then the ſmalleſt of his Thoughts,
And ſo with great imagination
(Proper to mad men) led his Powers to death,
And (winking) leap'd into deſtruction.

Haſt. But (by your leane) it neuer yet did hurt,
To lay downe likely-hoods, and formes of hope.

L. Bar. Yes, if this prefent quality of warre,
Indeed the iſtant action: a cause on foot,
Littles ſo in hope: As in an early Spring,
We fee the appearing buds, which to proue ſruite,
Hope gives not ſo much warrant, as Difpaire
That Froſts will bite them. When we meane to build,
We first ſurvey the Plot, then draw the Modell,

And when we fee the figure of the houſe,
Then muſt we rate the coſt of the Erection,
Which if we finde out-weighes Ability,
What do we then, but draw a-new the Modell
In fewer offices ? Or at least, deſt
To builde at all? Much more, in this great worke,
(Which is (almost) to plucke a Kingdome downe,
And fet another vp) ſhould we ſurvey
The plot of Situation, and the Modell;
Conſent vpon a ſure Foundation :
Question Surueyors, know our owne eſtate,
How able ſuch a Worke to vndergo,
To weigh againſt his Oppoſite? Or eſſe,
We fortiſe in Paper, and in Figures,
Vſing the Names of men, inſtead of men :
Like one, that drawes the Modell of a houſe
Beyond his power to builde it; who (nalfe through)
Gues o're, and leaues his part-created Coſt
A naked ſubieſt to the Weeping Clouds,
And waſte, for churliſh Winters tyranny.

Haſt. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of faire byrth)
Should be full-borne, and that we now poſſeſt

The vtmoſt man of expectation:

I thinke we are a Body strong enough
(Euen as we are) to equall with the King.

L. Bar. What is the King but ſiue & twenty thouſand?

Haſt. To vs no more: nay not ſo much Lord Bardolſe,
For his diuifions (as the Times do brau!)

Are in three Heads: one Power againſt the French,
And one againſt Glendower: Perſorce a third
Muſt take vp vs: So is the vnſirme King
In three diuided: and his Coffers found
With hollow Poueruy, and Emptyſe.

Ar. That he ſhould draw his ſeveral ſtrengthe together
And come againſt vs in full puſſance
Need not be dreaded.

Haſt. If he ſhould do ſo,
He leaues his backe vnarm'd, the French, and Welch
Baying him at the heeles: neuer ſeare that.

L. Bar. Who is it like ſhould lead his Forces hither?

Haſt. The Duke of Lancaſter, and Westmerland:
Againſt the Welſh himſelfe, and Harrie Monmouth,
But who is ſubſtituted 'gainſt the French,
I haue no certaine notice.

Arch. Let vs on:
And publish the occafion of our Armes.
The Common-wealth is ſieke of their owne Choice,
Their ouer-greedy loue hath ſurfetted:

An habitation giddy, and vnſure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.

O thou fond Many, with what loud applaſe
Did ſt thou beate heauen with bleſſing Buſing brooke?

Before he was, what thou would'ſ haue him be?
And being now trimm'd in thine owne deſtres,
Thou (beaſtly Feeder) art ſo full of him,
That thou prouok'ſ thy ſelfe to caſt him vp.

Sos, ſo, (thou common Dogge) did ſt thou diſgorge
Thy glutton-boſome of the Royall Richard,

And now thou would'ſ eate thy dead vomit vp,
And howl it to finde it. What truſt is in theſe Times?
They, that when Richard liu'd, would haue him dye,
Are now become enamour'd on his graue.

Thou that threw'ſ duſt vpon his goodly head
When through proud London he came fighting on,
After th'admired heeles of Buſing brooke,
Cri'ſt now, O Earth, yeeld vs that King agin,

79

And take thou this (O thoughts of men accurs'd):
To Palfrey, and to Come, seemes best; things Preſent, worſt.

Mow. Shall we go draw our numbers, and fet on ?
Hoſſe. We are Times ſubieſt, and Time bids, be gon.

Actus Secundus. Scœna Prima.

Enter Hoſſeſſe, with two Officers, Fang, and Snare.
Hoſſeſſe. Mr. Fang, haue you entred the Action ?

Fang. It is enter'd.
Hoſſe. Where's your Yeoman? Is it a luſtly yeoman?

Hoſſe. What's your Yeoman? Is it a luſtly yeoman?

Will he land to it?

Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare ?

Hoſſe. I, I, good M. Snare..

Snare. Heere, heere.

Fang. Snare, we muſt Arreſt Sir Ioh.
Hoſſe. I good M. Snare, I haue enter'd him, and all.

Sn. It may chance coſt some of vs our liues: he wil ſtab
Hoſſe. Alas the day: take heed of him: he ſtab'd me
in mine owne houſe, and that moſt beaſtly : he cares not
what miſcheeſe he doth, if his weapon be out. Hee will
ſone like any diuell, he will ſpare neither man, woman,
neither child.

Hoſſe. If I can cloſe with him, I care not for his thrust.
Hoſſe. No, nor I neither : Ile be at your elbow.
Fang. If I but ſift him once: if he come but within my
Vice.

Hoſſ. I am vndone with his going: I wart he is an
inſatiue thing vpon my ſcore. Good M. Fang hold him
free: good M. Snare, let him not ſcape, he comes contin-
ently to Py-Corner (ſauing his manhoods) to buy a ſad-
dle, and hee is indited to dinner to the Lubbars head in
Lombardſtreet, to M. Smoothes the Silkman. I pra'ye, ſince
my Exion is enter'd, and my Caſe ſo openly known to theto
world, let him be brought in to his anſwer: A 100. Marke
is a long one, for a poore lone woman to beare: & I haue
borne, and borne, and borne, and haue bin ſub'd off, and
ſub'd-off, from this day to that day, that it is a ſhame to
be thought on. There is no honeſt in ſuch dealing, vnles
a woman should be made an Aſſe and a Beaſt, to beare e-
ter ſtraues wrong.

Enter Falſtaffe and Bardolſe.

Yonder he comes, and that arrant Malmeſey-Nofe Bar-
dolf with him. Do your offices, do your offices: M. Fang,
& M. Snare, do me, do me, do me your Offices.

Fal. How now? whose Mare's dead? what's the matter ?
Fang. Sir Ioh, I arreſt you, at the ſuit of Milt. *Quickly.*
Falſ. Away Varlets, draw Bardolſe : Cut me off the
Villaines head: throw the Queane in the Channel.

Hoſſ. Throw me in the channell: Ile throw thee there.
Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bастardly rogue. Murder, mur-
er, O thou Hony-Suckle villaine, wilt thou kill Gods of-
ficers, and the Kings? O thou hony-feed Rogue, thou art
a honyfeed, a Man-queller, and a woman-queller.

Falſ. Keep them off, Bardolſe. Fang. A reſcu, a reſcu.
Hoſſ. Good people bring a reſcu. Thou wilt not? thou
wilt not? Do, do thou Rogue: Do thou Hempfeed.

Page. Away you Scullion, you Rampallian, you Fuffil-
lian: Ile tucke your Cataſtrophe. Enter. Ch. Inſtice.
Hoſſ. What's the matter? Keepe the Peace here, hoa.
Hoſſ. Good my Lord be good to me. I beſeech you
hand to me.

Ch. Inſtice. How now fir Ioh? What are you brauing here?
Doth this become your place, your time, and buſineſſe ?
You should haue bene well on your way to Yorke.
Stand from him Fellow; wherefore hang it vpon him ?

Hoſſ. Ohmy moſt worſhipfull Lord, and't pleafe your
Grace, I am a poore widdow of Eaſtcheap, and he is arre-
ſted at my ſuit.
Ch. Inſt. For what ſumme ?

Hoſſ. It is more then for ſome (my Lord) it is for all: all
I haue, he hath eaten me out of houſe and home; hee hath
put all my ſubſtance into that fat belly of his: but I will
haue ſome of it out againe, or I will ride thee o' Nights,
like the Mare.

Falſt. I thinke I am as like to ride the Mare, if I haue
any vantage of ground, to get vp.

Ch. Inſt. How comes this, Sir Ioh ? Fu, what a man of
good temper would endure this tempeſt of exclamation ?
Are you not aſham'd to inforce a poore Widdowe to ſo-
rough a courſe, to come by her owne ?

Falſt. What is the groſſe ſumme that I owe thee?

Hoſſ. Marry (if thou wer't an honeſt man) thy ſelfe, &
the mony too. Thou didſt ſware to mee vpon a parcell
gilt Goblet, fitting in my Dolphin-chamber at the round
table, by a ſea-cole fire, on Wednesday in Whitfon week.
when the Prince broke thy head for lik'ning him to a fin-
ging man of Windsor: Thou didſt ſware to me then (as I
was waſhing thy wound) to marry me, and make mee my
Lady thy wife. Canſt thou deny it? Did not your goodwife Keech
the Butchers wife come in then, and cal me goſlip. *Quick-
ly?* comming in to borrow a meſſe of Vinegar: telling vs,
ſhe had a good diſh of Prawnes: whereby thou didſt deſire to
eat ſome: whereby I told thee they were ill for a greene
wound? And didſt not kiffe me, and bid mee fetch the 30s. ? I
put thee now to thy Book-oath, deny it if thou canſt?

Fal. My Lord, this is a poore mad ſoule: and ſhe ſayes
vp & downe the town, that her eldest ſon is like you. She
hath bin in good caſe, & the truth is, povertie hath diſtra-
ſted her: but for these ſooliſh Officers, I beſeech you, I
may haue redreſſe againſt them.

Inſt. Sir Ioh, fir Ioh. I am well acquainted with your
maner of wrenching the true cauſe, the falſe way. It is not
a confident brow, nor the throng of words, that come
with ſuch (more then impudent) ſawcines from you, can
thrift me from a leuell consideration, I know, you ha' pra-
dict'd vpon the eafie-yeelding ſpirit of this woman.

Hoſſ. Yes in troth my Lord.

Inſt. Prethee peace: pay her the debt you owe her, and
vnpay the villany you haue done her: the one you may do
with ſterling mony, & the other with currant repentance.

Fal. My Lord, I will not vndergo this ſneape without
reply. You call honorable Boldnes, impudent Sawcineſſe:
If a man wil curt ſie, and ſay nothing, he is vertuous: No,
my Lord (your humble duty remembred) I will not be your
futor. I ſay to you, I deſire deliuerance from these Officers
being upon haſtly employment in the Kings Affairs.

Inſt. You ſpeake, as hauing power to do wrong: But
anſwer in the effect of your Reputation, and ſatisſe the
poore woman.

Enter M. Gaver.

Falſt. Come hither Hoſſeſſe.

Enter M. Gaver.

Ch. Inſt. Now Maſter Gower; What newes?

Gow. The King (my Lord) and Henrie Prince of Wales
Are neere at hand: The reſt the Paper telles.

Falſt. As I am a Gentleman.

Hoſſ. Nay, you ſaid so before.

Fal. As I am a Gentleman, Come, no more words of it.

Hoſſ. By this Heauenly ground I tread on, I muſt be
faine to pawne both my Plate, and the Tapitry of my dy-
ning Chambers.

Falſt.

g3

80

Fal. Glaſſes, glaſſes, is the onely drinking : and for thy walles a pretty flight Drollery, or the Storie of the Prodigall, or the Germane hunting in Waterworke, is worth a thousand of these Bed-hangings, and these Fly-
bitten Tapiftries. Let it be tenne pound (if thou canſt.) Come, if it were not for thy humors, there is not a better Wench in England. Go, waſh thy face, and draw thy Action: Come, thou muſt not bee in this humour with me, come, I know thou was't fet on to this.

Hoft. Prethee (Sir Iohn) let it be but twenty Nobles, I loath to pawne my Plate, in good earneſt la.

Fal. Let it alone, Ile make other shift : you'l be a fool fill.

Hoft. Well, you ſhall haue it although I pawne my Gowne. I hope you'l come to Supper: You'l pay me al-together?

Fal. Will I liue? Go with her, with her : hooke-on, hooke-on.

Hoft. Will you haue Doll Teare-shoet meet you at ſup-
per?

Fal. No more words. Let's haue her.

Ch. Iuſt. I haue heard bitter newes.

Fal. What's the newes (my good Lord)?

Ch. Iu. Where lay the King laſt night?

Mef. At Bafingloke my Lord.

Fal. I hope (my Lord) all's well. What is the newes my Lord?

Ch. Iuſt. Come all his Forces backe?

Mef. No: Fifteene hundred Foot, ſive hundred Horſe
Are march'd vp to my Lord of Lancaſter,
Against Northumberland, and the Archbishop.

Fal. Comes the King backe from Wales, my noble L?

Ch. Iuſt. You ſhall haue Letters of me prefently.

Come, go along with me, good M. Goure.

Fal. My Lord.

Ch. Iuſt. What's the matter?

Fal. Maſter Goure, ſhall I entreate you with mee to dinner?

Gow. I muſt waite vpon my good Lord heere.
I thank you, good Sir Iohn.

Ch. Iuſt. Sir Iohn, you loyter heere too long, being you are to take Souldiers vp, in Countries as you go.

Fal. Will you ſup with me, Maſter Goure?

Ch. Iuſt. What fooliſh Maſter taught you theſe man-
ners, Sir Iohn?

Fal. Maſter Gower, if they become mee nor, hee was a
Fool that taught them mee. This is the right Fencing
grace (my Lord) tap for tap, and ſo part faire.

Ch. Iuſt. Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great
Fool.
Exeunt

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Prince Henry, Pointz, Bardolfe,
and Page.

Prin. Truſt me, I am exceeding weary.

Prin. Is it come to that? I had thought wearines durſt not have beene, or ch'd one of ſo high blood.

Prin. It doth me: though it diſcolours the complexion of my Greatneſſe to acknowledge it. Doth it not ſhow vildely in me, to defire ſmall Beere?

Poin. Why, a Prince should not be so loosely studied,

as to remember ſo weake a Compoſition,

Prince. Belike then, my Appetite was not Prinſe-
got: for (in troth) I do now remember the poore Cre-
ture, Small Beere. But indeede these humble considera-
tions make me out of loue with my C. Sineſſe. What
disgrace is it to me, to remember thy name? Or to know
thy face to morrow ? Or to take note how many paires of
Silk flockings haſt (Viz. these, and those that were the
peach-colour'd ones:) Or to beare the Inuentorie of
thirties, as one for ſuperfluity, and one other, for vſe.
But that the Tennis-Court-keeper knowes better then I,
for it is a low ebbe of Linnen with thee, when thou keeſ
not Racket there, as thou haſt not done a great while, be-
cauſe the reſt of thy Low Countries, haue made a shift to
cate vp thy Holland.

Poin. How ill it follows, after you haue labour'd ſo
hard, you should talke so idlely? Tell me how many good
yong Princes would do ſo, their Fathers lying ſo ſick,
and yours is?

Prin. Shall I tell thee one thing, Pointz?

Poin. Yes: and let it be an excellent good thing.

Prin. It ſhall ferue among wittes of no higher breed-
ing then thine.

Toin. Go to: I stand the pufh of your one thing, that you'l tell.

Prin. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet, that I ſhould be
ſad now my Father is ſick: 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 indeed too.

Poin. Very hardly, vpon ſuch a ſubieſt.

Prin. Thou think'st me as farre in the Diuels Booke, as thou, and Fallaſſe, for obduracie and perſtitencie. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my hart bleeds inwardly, that my Father is ſo ſick: and keeping ſuch vild company as thou art, hath in reaſon taken from me, all oftenation of ſorrow.

Poin. The reaſon?

Prin. What would ſt thou think of me, if I ſhould weep?

Poin. I would thinke thee a moſt Princely hypocrite.

Prin. It would be euery man's thought : and thou art a bleſſed Fellow, to thinke as euery man thinkes : neuer man's thought in the world, keepeſ the Rode-way better then thine : euery man would thinke me an Hypocrite indeede. And what accites your moſt worſhipſul thoughts to thinke ſo?

Poin. Why, becauſe you haue beene ſo lewde, and ſo much ingraſſed to Fallaſſe.

Prin. And to thee.

Pointz. Nay, I am well ſpoken of, 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 those two things I conſeſſe I cannot help. Looke, looke, here comes Bardolſe.

Prince. And the Boy that I gaue Fallaſſe, he had him from me Chriſtian, and fee if the fat villain haue not transorne'd him Ape.

Enter Bardolſe.

Bar. Saue your Grace,

Prin. And yours, moſt Noble Bardolſe.

Poin. Come you pernicious Aſſe, you bafthull Fool,
muſt you be bluſhing? Wherefore bluſh you now? what
a Maidenly man at Armes are you become ? Is it fuch
matter to get a Pottle-pots Maiden-head?

Page. He call'd me even now (my Lord) through a red
Lattice, and I could diſcerve no part of his face from the
window.

81

window: at last I spy'd his eyes, and me thought he had made two holes in the Ale-wiues new Petticoat, & peeled through.

Prin. Hath not the boy profited?

Bar. Away, you horzon vright Rabbet, away.

Page. Away, you rascally Altheas dreame, away.

Prin. Infruct vs Boy: what dreame, Boy ?

Page. Matry (my Lord) Altheas dream'd, she was de-

Liner'd of a Firebrand, and therefore I call him hir dream.
Prince. A Crownes-worth of good Interpretation :

There it is, Boy.

Page. O that this good Bloſſome could bee kept from Cankers: Well, there is ſix pence to preferue thee.

Bard. If you do not make him be hang'd among you, the gallowes shall be wrong'd.

Prince. And how doth thy Maſter, Bardolph ?

Bar. Well, my good Lord: he heard of your Graces comming to Towne. There's a Letter for you.

Page. Deliver'd with good reſpect: And how doth the Martlemas, your Maſter ?

Bard. In bodies health Sir.

Page. Marry, the immortall part needes a Phyſitian : but that moues not him: though that bee ſicke, it dyes not.

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

Page. Letter. John Falſaffe Knight: (Euery man muſt know that, as oft as hee hath occasion to name himſelfe:) Even like thate that are kinne to the King, for they neuer pricke their finger, but they ſay, there is ſom of the kings blood spilt. How comes that (ſayes he) that takes vpon him not to conceine? the anſwer is as ready as a borowed cap: I am the Kings poore Cofin, Sir.

Prince. Nay, they will be kin to vs, but they wil fetch it from Iaphet. But to the Letter: —Sir John Falſaffe, Knight, to the Soune of the King, neereſt his Father, Harris Prince of Wales, greeting.

Page. Why this is a Certificate.

Prin. Peace.

I will imitate the honourable Romaines in breuitie.

Page. Sure he meanes breuity in breath: short-winded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leaue thee. Bee not too familiar with Pointz, for hee misſues thy Fauurs ſo much, that he ſweaves thou art to marrie his Sifter Nell. Re-pens at idle times as thou mayſt, and so farewell.

Thine, by yea and no: which is as much as to ſay, as thou vſeſt him. Iacke Falſaffe with my Familiars: John with my Brothers and Sifter: & Sir John, with all Europe.

My Lord, I will ſeepe this Letter in Sack, and make him eate it.

Page. That's to make him eate twenty of his Words. But do you vſe me thus Ned? Muſt I marry your Sifter?

Page. May the Wench haue no worſe Fortune. But I neuer ſaid so.

Prin. Well, thus we play the Fooles with the time & the spirits of the wife, fit in the clouds, and mocke vs : Is your Maſter heere in London ?

Bard. Yes my Lord.

Prin. Where ſuppers he? Doth the old Sore, feede in the old Franke?

Bard. At the old place my Lord, in Eaſt-cheape.

Prin. What Company ?

Page. Ephesians my Lord, of the old Church.

Prin. Sup any women with him?

Page. None my Lord, but old Miftris Quickly, and M. Doll Teare-sheet.

Prin. What Pagan may that be?

Page. A proper Gentlewoman, Sir, and a Kinfwoman of my Maſters.

Prin. Euen ſuch Kin, as the Parifh Heyfors are to the Towne-Bull?

Shall we ſteale vpon them (Ned) at Supper?

Page. I am your ſhadow, my Lord, Ile follow you.

Prin. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your Maſter that I am yet in Towne.

There's for your ſilence.

Bar. I haue no tongue, sir.

Page. And for mine Sir, I will gouerne it.

Prin. Fare ye well: go.

This Doll Teare-sheet should be ſome Rode.

Page. I warrant you, as common as the way betweene S. Albans, and London.

Prin. How might we ſee Falſaffe beſtow himſelfe to night, in his true colours, and not our ſelues be ſeen?

Page. Put on two Leather Ierkins, and Aprons, and waite vpon him at his Table, like Drawers.

Prin. From a God, to a Bull? A heauie declenſion: It was Joues caſe. From a Prince, to a Prentice, a low trans- formation, that ſhall be mine: for in euery thing, the pur- poſe muſt weigh with the folly. Follow me Ned. Exeunt

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Northumberland, his Ladie, and Harrie Percies Ladie.

North. I pretheelouing Wife, and gentle Daughter, Giue an cuen way vnto my rough Affaires: Put not you on the viſage of the Times, And be like them to Percie, troubleſome.

Wife. I haue giuen ouer, I will ſpeak no more, Do what you will: your Wifedome, be your guide.

North. Alas (ſweet Wife) my Honor is at pawne, And but my going, nothing can redeeme it.

La. Oh yet, for heauens ſake, go not to theſe Warrs; The Time was (Father) when you broke your word, When you were more endeuer'd to it, then now, When your owne Percy, when my heart-deere. Harry, Threw many a Northward looke, to ſee his Father Bring vp his Powres: but he did long in vaine.

Who then perſwaded you to ſlay at home? There were two Honors loſt; Yours, and your Sonnes.

For Yours, may heauenly glory brighten it :

For His, it flucke vpon him, as the Sunne

In the gray vault of Heauen: and by his Light Did all the Cheualrie of England moue

To do braue Aſts. He was (indeed) the Glafſe Wherein the Noble-Youth did drefſe themſelues.

He had no Legges, that practic'd not his Gate: And ſpeaking thicke (which Nature made his blemiſh) Became the Accents of the Valiant.

For thate that could ſpeake low, and tardily, Would turne their owne Perfection, to Abufe, To ſeeme like him. So that in Speech, in Gate,

In Diet, in Aſfections of delight,

In Militarie Rules, Humors of Blood,

He

He was the Marke, and Glasse, Coppy, and Booke,
That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous! him,
O Miracle of Men! Him did you leaue
(Second to none) vn-feconded by you,
To looke vpon the hideous God of Warre,
In dif-advantage, to abide a field,
Where nothing but the found of Hotspurs Name
Did feene defensible: so you left him.
Neuer, O neuer doe his Ghoft the wrong,
To hold your Honor more precife and nice
With others, then with him. Let them alone:
The Marhall and the Arch-bishop are strong.
Had my (weet Harry had but halfe their Numbers,
To day might I (hanging on Hotspurs Necke)
Haue talk'd of Monmouth's Graue.

North. Behrew your heart,
(Faire Daughter) you doe draw my Spirits from me,
With new lamenting ancient Ouer-fights.
But I muft goe, and meet with Danger there,
Or it will seeke me in another place,
And finde me worfe prouided.

Wife. O flye to Scotland,
Till that the Nobles, and the armed Commons,
Haue of their Puiſance made a little tafte.

Lady. If they get ground, and vantage of the King,
Then ioyne you with them, like a Ribbe of Steele,
To make Strength ſtronger. But, for all our loues,
First let them trye themſelues. So did your Sonne,
He was ſo ſuffer'd; so came I a Widow:
And neuer ſhall have length of Life enough,
To raine vpon Remembrance with mine Eyes,
That it may grow, and ſprowt, as high as Heauen,
For Recorδation to my Noble Husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: tis with my Minde
As with the Tyde, ſwell'd vp vnto his height,
That makes a full-land, running neyther way.
Faine would I goe to meet the Arch-bishop,
But many thouſand Reaſons hold me backe.
I will reſolue for Scotland: there am I,
Till Time and Vantage craue my company.
Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

### Enter two Drawers.

1. **Drawer.** What haſt thou brought there? Apple-Johns? Thou know't Sir *Iohn* cannot endure an Apple-John.

2. **Draw.** Thou ſay't true: the Prince once ſet a Difſ
of Apple-Johns before him, and told him there were ſiue
more Sir *Iohns*: and, putting off his Hat, I will now
take my leaue of these ſiue drie, round, old-wither'd
Knights. It anger'd him to the heart: but hee hath for-
got that.

1. **Draw.** Why then couer, and ſet them downe: and
fee if thou canſt finde out Sneakes Noyſe; Miftris Teare-
ſheet would fairene haue ſome Muſique.

2. **Draw.** Sirra, heere will be the Prince, and Maſter
Points, anon: and they will put on two of our Jerkins,
and Aprons, and Sir *Iohn* muſt not know of it: *Bardolph*
hath brought word.

1. **Draw.** Then here will be old *Vitis*: it will be an ex-
cellent ſtratagem.

2. **Draw.** Ile fee if I can finde out Sneake.

Exit.

### Enter Hofteffe, and Dol.

Hoft. Sweet-heart, me thinkes now you are in an ex-
cellent good temperalitie: your Pulsſide beates as ex-
traordinarily, as heart would deſire ; and your Colou-
(I warrant you) is as red as any Rofe: But you haue
drunke too much Canaries, and that's a maruellous ſen-
ching Wine; and it perfumes the blood, ere wee can ſay
what's this. How does you now?

Dol. Better then I was: Hem.

Hoft. Why that was well ſaid: A good heart's worth
Gold. Looke, here comes Sir *Iohn*.

### Enter Falſtaſſe.

Falſt. When Arthur firſt in Court--(emptie the Jordan)
and was a worthy King: How now Miftris Dol?

Hoft. Sick of a Calme: yea, good-footh.

Falſt. So is all her Seſt: if they be once in a Calme,
they are ſick.

Dol. You muddie Raſcall, is that all the comfort you
giue me?

Falſt. You make fat Raſcalls, Miftris *Dol*.

Dol. I make them ? Gluttonie and Difeaſes make them, I make them not.

Falſt. If the Cooke make the Gluttonie, you help to
make the Difeaſes (*Dol*) we catch of you (*Dol*) we catch
of you: Grant that, my poore Vertue, grant that.

Dol. I marry, our Chaynes, and our Jewels.

Falſt. Your Brooches, Pearles, and Owches: For
ferue braulye, is to come halting off: you know, to come
off the Breach, with his Pike bent braulye, and to Surge-
rie braulye ; to venture vpon the charg'd-Chamber
braulye.

Hoft. Why this is the olde fashion: you two neuer
meete, but you fall to ſome discord: you are both (in
good troth) as Rheumatike as two drie Toſtes, you can-
not one beare with anothers Confirmities. What the
good-yere? One muſt beare, and that muſt bee you:
you are the weaker Veffell ; as they ſay, the emptie
Veffell.

Dol. Can a weake empty Veffell beare such a huge
full Hogs-head ? There's a whole Marcheans Venture
of Burdeux-Stuffe in him: you haue not ſeene a Hulke
better ſtuffe in the Hold. Come, I be friends with thee
Iacke: Thou art going to the Warres, and whether I
ſhall euer ſee thee againe, or no, there is no body
cares.

### Enter Drawer.

Drawer. Sir, Ancient Pistoll is below, and would
ſpeake with you.

Dol. Hang him, I waggering Raſcall, let him not
come hither: it is the foule-mouth'dt Rogue in Eng-
land.

Hoft. If hee I wagger, let him not come here: I muſt
lie amongt my Neighbors, Ile no I waggerers: I an
in good name, and fame, with the very beſt: ſhut the
doore, there comes no I waggerers heere: I haue not
liu'd all this while, to haue I waggering now: ſhut the
doore, I pray you.

Falſt. Do't thou heare, Hofteffe?

Hoft. Pray you pacify your ſelfe (Sir *Iohn*) there comes
no I waggerers heere.

Falſt. Dol.

["The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.", "83", "Fallt. Do't thou heare? it is mine Ancient.", "Hoff. Tilly-fally (Sir John) neuer tell me, your ancient\nSwaggerer comes not in my doores. I was before Mafter\nTishe, the Deputie, the other day: and as hee faid to me,\nit was no longer ago then Wednesday laft: Neighbour\nit was

art as valorous as Heitor of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and tenne times better then the nine Worthies: ah Villaine.

Fal. A rascally Slae, I will toff the Rogue in a Blanket.

Dol. Doest if thou dar'ft for thy heart: if thou doo'ft, Ile canus thee betweene a paire of Sheetes.

### Enter Musique.

Page. The Musique is come, Sir.

Fal. Let them play: play Sits. Sit on my Knee, Dol. A Rascall bragging Slaue: the Rogue fled from me like Quick-siluer.

Dol. And thou follow'd'ft him like a Church: thou whor son little tydie Bartholmew Bore-pigge, when wilt thou leaue fighting on dayes, and foyning on nights, and begin to patch vp thine old Body for Heauen?

### Enter the Prince and Poines disquis'd.

Fal. Peace (good Dol) do not speake like a Deathshead: doe not bid me remember mine end.

Dol. Sirrha, what humor is the Prince of?

Fal. A good shallow young fellow: hee would haue made a good Pantler, hee would haue chipp'd Bread well.

Dol. They say Poines hath a good Wit.

Fal. Hee a good Wit? hang him Baboon, his Wit is as thick as Tewksburie Muffard: there is no more conceit in him, then is in a Mallet.

Dol. Why doth the Prince loue him so then?

Fal. Because their Legges are both of a bigneffe: and hee playes at Quoits well, and eates Conger and Fennell, and drinkes off Candles ends for Flap-dragons, and rides the wilde-Mare with the Boyces, and iumpes vpon Ioyn'd-fooles, and soweares with a good grace, and weares his Boot very smooth, like vnto the Signe of the Legge; and breedes no bate with telling of difcreete stories: and such other Gamboll Faculties hee hath, that flew a weake Minde, and an able Body, for the which the Prince admits him; for the Prince himselfe is such another: the weight of an hayre will turne the Scales betweene their Haber-de-pois.

Prince. Would not this Naue of a Wheele haue his Eares cut off?

Poin. Let vs beat him before his Whore.

Prince. Looke, if the wither'd Elder hath not his Poll claw'd like a Parrot.

Poin. Is it not strange, that Desire should so many yeeres out-lie performance?

Fal. Kiffe me Dol.

Prince. Saturne and Venus this yeere in Coniunction? What fayes the Almanack to that?

Poin. And looke whether the fierie Trigon, his Man, be not lifping to his Masters old Tables, his Note-Booke, his Councell-keeper?

Fal. Thou do'ft giue me flatt'ring Buffes.

Dol. Nay truely, I kiffe thee with a moft constant heart.

Fal. I am olde, I am olde.

Dol. I loue thee better, then I loue ere a scurie young Boy of them all.

Fal. What Stuffe wilt thou haue a Kittle of? I shall receive Money on Thursday: thou shall haue a Cappe to morrow. A merrie Song, come: it growes late,

wee will to Bed. Thou wilt forget me, when I am gone.

Dol. Thou wilt fet me a weeping, if thou fay'ft so; proue that euer I dresse my selfe handsome, till thy turne: well, hearken the end.

Fal. Some Sack, Francis.

Prim, Poin. Anon, anon, Sir.

Fal. Ha? a Baftard Sonne of the Kings? And art not thou Poines, his Brother?

Prince. Why thou Globe of sinfull Continents, what a Life do'ft thou lead ?

Fal. A better then thou: I am a Gentleman, thou art a Drawer.

Prince. Very true, Sir: and I come to draw you out by the Eares.

Hoft. Oh, the Lord preferue thy good Grace: Welcome to London. Now Heauen bleſſe that twcete Face of thine: what, are you come from Wales?

Fal. Thou whor son mad Compound of Maieſtie: by this light Fleſh, and corrupt Blood, thou art welcome,

Dol. How? you fat Foole, I forne you.

Poin. My Lord, hee will drive you out of your reuence, and turne all to a merryment, if you take not the heat.

Prince. You whor son Candle-myne you, howvildly did you speake of me euen now, before this honest, yerytuous, civill Gentlewoman?

Hoſt. Bleſſing on your good heart, and ſo ſhie is by my troth.

Fal. Didſt thou heare me?

Prince. Yes: and you knew me, as you did when you ranne away by Gads-hill: you knew I was at your back, and I spoke it on purpose, to trie my patience.

Fal. No, no, no: not so: I did not thinke, thou walt within hearing.

Prince. I ſhall drive you then to conſeſſe the will, abufe, and then I know how to handle you,

Fal. No abufe (Hall) on mine Honor, no abufe,

Prince. Not to diſpray me, and call me Pantler, and Bread-chopper, and I know not what?

Fal. No abufe (Hal.)

Poin. No abufe?

Fal. No abufe (Ned) in the World: honest Ned, no. I diſprays'd him before the Wicked, that the Wicked might not fall in loue with him: In which doing, I haue done the part of a careful Friend, and a true Subiect, and thy Father is to giue me thanks for it. No abufe (Hal) none (Ned) none; no Boyes, none.

Prince. See now whether pure Feare, and entire Cowardife, doth not make thee wrong this vertuous Gentlewoman, to cloſe with vs? Is ſhie of the Wicked? Is thine Hoſſeſſe heere, of the Wicked? Or is the Boy of the Wicked? Or honest Bardolph (whose Zeale burnes in his Nose) of the Wicked?

Poin. Anſwere thou dead Elme, anſwere.

Fal. The Fiend hath prickt downe Bardolph irreconcilable, and his Face is Lucifers Priuy-Kitchin, where he doth nothing but roſt Mault-Wormes: for the Boy, there is a good Angell about him, but the Deuill out bids him too.

Prince. For the Women?

Fal. For one of them, ſhie is in Hell already, and burnes poore Soules: for the other, I owe her Money; and whether ſhie bee damn'd for that, I know not.

Hoſt. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No.

85

No, I thinke thou art not: I thinke thou art quit
for that. Marry, there is another Indictment vpon thee,
for suffering flesh to bee eaten in thy houfe, contrary to
the Law, for the which I thinke thou wilt howle.

Hast. All Vieduallers doe so: What is a Ioynt of
Matton, or two, in a whole Lent?

Prince. You, Gentlewoman.

Del. What fayes your Grace ?

Falf. His Grace fayes that, which his flesh rebells
against.

Hof. Who knocks so lowd at doore? Looke to the
doore there, Francis ?

Enter Peto.

Prince. Peto, how now? what newes ?

Peto. The King, your Father, is at Westminfter,
And there are twentie weake and wearied Poffes,
Come from the North: and as I came along,
I met, and ouer-tooke a dozen Captaines,
Bare-headed, (wearing, knocking at the Tauernes,
And asking every one for Sir John Falſtaffe.)

Prince. By Heauen (Poiners) I feele me much to blame,
So idly to prophane the precious time,
When Tempeſt of Commotion, like the South,
Borne with black Vapour, doth begin to melt,
And drop upon our bare vnarmed heads.
Gue me my Sword, and Cloake:
Falſtaffe, good night.
Exit.

Falf. Now comes in the SWEETEſT Morsell of the
night, and wee muſt hence, and leaue it vnpickt. More
knocking at the doore? How now ? what's the mat-
ter?

Bard. You muſt away to Court, Sir, preſently,
A dozen Captaines ſtay at doore for you.

Falf. Pay the Mufitians, Sirha: farewell Hofteffe,
farewell Dol. You fee (my good Wenches) how men of
Merit are fought after: the vndeferuer may fleepe, when
the man of Action is call'd on. Farewell good Wenches:
if I be not ſent away poſſe, I will fee you againe, ere I
goe.

Dol. I cannot (speake: if my heart bee not readie
to burſt--- Well (Sweete Iacke) haue a care of thy
ſelfe.

Falf. Farewell, farewell.

Exit.

Hof. Well, fare thee well: I haue knowne thee
these twentie nine yeeres, come Pefcod-time: but an
honeſter, and truer-hearted man--- Well, fare thee
well.

Bard. Miftris Teare-sheet.

Hof. What's the matter?

Bard. Bid Miftris Teare-sheet come to my Mafter.

Hof. Oh runne Dol, runne: runne, good Dol.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter the King, with a Page.

King. Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick:
But ere they come, bid them ore-reade these Letters,
And well consider of them: make good ſpeed.
Exit.

How many thousand of my pooreſt Subiects
Are at this howre afleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe,
Natures soft Nurſe, how haue I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids downe,
And fleepe my Sences in Forgetfulneſſe?
Why rather (Sleepe) lyeſt thou in ſmoakie Cribs,
Vpon vneaſie Pallads stretching thee,
And luifht with buffing Night, flyes to thy flumber,
Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great?
Vnder the Canopies of coſtly State,
And lull'd with ſounds of SWEETEſt Melodie?
O thou dull God, why lyeſt thou with the vilde,
In loathſome Beds, and leau it the Kingly Couch,
A Watch-cafe, or a common Larum-Bell?
Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Maſt,
Seale vp the Ship-boyes Eyes, and rock his Braines,
In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge,
And in the viſitation of the Windes,
Who take the Ruffian Billowes by the top,
Curling their monſtrous heads, and hanging them
With deaſſing Clamors in the flipp'ry Clouds,
That with the hurley, Death it ſelfe awakes?
Canſt thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy Repofe
To the wet Sea-Boy, in an houre ſo rude:
And in the calmeſt, and moſt ſtilleſt Night,
With all appliances, and meanses to boote,
Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe,
Vneaſie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.

Enter Warwicke and Surrey.

War. Many good-morrowes to your Maieſt.

King. Is it good-morrow, Lords?

War. 'Tis One a Clock, and paſt.

King. Why then good-morrow to you all (my Lords:)
Hae you read o're the Letters that I ſent you?

War. We haue (my Liege.)

King. Then you perceiue the Body of our Kingdome,
How foule it is: what ranke Difeaſes grow,
And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?

War. It is but as a Body, yet diſtemper'd,
Which to his former ſtrength may be reſor'd,
With good aduice, and little Medicine:
My Lord Northumberland will ſoon be cooſ'd.

King. Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate,
And fee the reuolution of the Times
Make Mountaines leuell, and the Continent
(Wearie of ſolide firmeneſſe) melt it ſelfe
Into the Sea: and other Times, to fee
The beachie Girdle of the Ocean
Too wide for Neptunes hippes; how Chances mocks
And Changes fill the Cuppe of Alteration
With diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,
Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together; and in two yeeres after,
Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres ſince,
This Percie was the man, neereſt my Soule,
Who, like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affaires,
And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot:
Yea, for my ſake, euen to the eyes of Richard
Gaue him defiance. But which of you was by
(You Couſin Neuil, as I may remember)
When Richard, with his Eye, brim-full of Teares,
(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland)
Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:)

Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the which
My

My

86

My Coufin *Bullingbrooke* ascends my Throne:
(Though then, Heauen knowes, I had no such intent,
But that necessitie so bow'd the State,
That I and Greatneſſe were compell'd to kiffe;)'
The Time ſhall come (thus did hee follow it)
The Time will come, that foule Sinne gathering head,
Shall breake into Corruption: so went on,
Fore-telling this fame Times Condition,
And the diuision of our Amitie.

*War.* There is a Hiftoric in all mens Liues,
Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd:
The which obseru'd, a man may prophecie
With a neere ayme, of the maine chance of things,
As yet not come to Life, which in their Seedes
And weake beginnings lye entreafured:
Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time;
And by the necessarie forme of this,
King Richard might create a perfect gueſſe,
That great Northumberland, then falſe to him,
Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falſeneſſe,
Which ſhould not finde a ground to roote vpon,
Vnleſſe on you.

*King.* Are these things then Necessities?
Then let vs meete them like Necessities;
And that fame word, euen now cryes out on vs:
They ſay, the Bisbop and Northumberland
Are ſiſtie 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 goe to bed, vpon my Life (my Lord)
The Pow'rs that you alreadie haue ſent forth,
Shall bring this Prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I haue receiu'd
A certaine inſtance, that Glendour is dead,
Your Maieſtie hath beene this fort-night ill,
And these vnfeason'd howres perſorce muſt adde
Vnto your Sickness.

*King.* I will take your counſaile:
And were theſe inward Warres once out of hand,
Wee would (deare Lords) vnto the Holy-Land.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Secunda.

*Enter Shallow and Silence: with Mouldie, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, Bull-calfe.*

*Shal.* Come-on, come-on, come-on: giue mee your
Hand, Sir; giue mee your Hand, Sir: an early furrer, by
the Rood. And how doth my good Couſin *Silence*?

*Sil.* Good-morrow, good Couſin *Shallow*.

*Shal.* And how doth my Couſin, your Bed-fellow?
and your faireſt Daughter, and mine, my God-Daughter
Ellen?

*Sil.* Alas, a blacke Oüzell (Couſin *Shallow*.)

*Shal.* By yea and nay, Sir, I dare ſay my Couſin *Williams*
is become a good Scholler? hee is at Oxford still, is hee
not?

*Sil.* Indeede Sir, to my coſt.

*Shal.* Hee muſt then to the Innes of Court ſhortly: I
was once of Clements Inne; where (I thinke) they will
talke of mad *Shallow* yet.

*Sil.* You were call'd Iuſtie *Shallow* then (Couſin.)

*Shal.* I was call'd any thing: and I would haue done
any thing indeede too, and roundly too. There was I,
little *John Doit* of Staffordshire, and blacke *George Bare*,
and *Francis Pick-bont*, and *Will Squele*, a Cot-fal-men, you
had not ſoure ſuch Swindge-bucklers in all the Innes of
Court againe: And I may ſay to you, wee knew where
the *Bona-Roba's* were, and had the beſt of them all at
commandement. Then was *Lacke Falſaffe* (now Sir *John*
a Boy*, and Page to *Thomas Mowbray*, Duke of Nat.
folke.

*Sil.* This Sir *John* (Couſin) that comes hither anons
bout Souldiers?

*Shal.* The fame Sir *John*, the very fame: I ſaw him
breake *Scoggan's* Head at the Court-Gate, when hee was
a Crack, not thus high: and the very fame day did I fight
with one *Sampson Stock-ſibb*, a Fruiterer, behinde Greyes-
Inne. Oh the mad dayes that I haue ſpent! and to ſee
how many of mine olde Acquaintance are dead?

*Sil.* Wee ſhall all follow (Couſin.)

*Shal.* Certaine: 'tis certaine: very ſure, very ſure.
Death is certaine to all, all ſhall dye. How a good Yoke
of Bullocks at Stamford Fayre?

*Sil.* Truly Couſin, I was not there.

*Shal.* Death is certaine: Is old *Double* of your Towne
liuing yet?

*Sil.* Dead, Sir.

*Shal.* Dead? See, ſee: hee drew a good Bow: and
dead? hee ſhot a fine ſhoote. *John* of Gaunt looned
him well, and betted much Money on his head. Dead!
hee would haue clapt in the Clowt at Twelue-score, and
carried you a fore-hand Shaft at foureene, and four-
teenne and a halſe, that it would haue done a mans heart
good to ſee. How a ſcore of Ewes now?

*Sil.* Thereafter as they be: a ſcore of good Ewes
may be worth tenne pounds.

*Shal.* And is olde *Double* dead?

*Enter Bardolph and his Boy.*

*Sil.* Heere come two of Sir *John Falſaffes* Men (as I
thinke.)

*Shal.* Good-morrow, honeſt Gentlemen.

*Bard.* I beſeech you, which is Iuſtice *Shallow*?

*Shal.* I am *Robert Shallow* (Sir) a poore Efquire of this
Countie, and one of the Kings Iuſtices of the Peace.
What is your good pleasure with me?

*Bard.* My Captaine (Sir) commends him to you
my Captaine, Sir *John Falſaffe*: a tall Gentleman, and a
moſt gallant Leader.

*Shal.* Hee greets me well: (Sir) I knew him a
good Back-Sword-man. How doth the good Knight
may I aske, how my Lady his Wife doth?

*Bard.* Sir, pardon: a Souldier is better accommodated, then with a Wife.

*Shal.* It is well ſaid, Sir; and it is well ſaid, indeed.
too: Better accommodated? it is good, yea, indeed it:
it: good phraſes are ſurely, and every where very com-
mendable. Accommodated, it comes of *Accommodate*
very good, a good Phraſe.

*Bard.* Pardon, Sir, I haue heard the word. Phraſe
call you it? by this Day, I know not the Phraſe: but
I will maintaine the Word with my Sword, to be
Souldier-like Word, and a Word of exceeding good
Command. Accommodated: that is, when a man is,
(as they ſay) accommodated: or, when a man is, being
whereby

87

whereby he thought to be accommodated, which is an
excellent thing.

Enter Falstaffe.

Shal. It is very iuft: Looke, heere comes good Sir
John. Guie me your hand, giue me your Worships good
hand: Truft me, you looke well: and beare your -yeares
very well. Welcome, good Sir John.

Shal. I am glad to see you well, good M. Robert Shal-
low: Mafter Sure-gard as I thinke?

Shal. No fir John, it's my Cofin Silencio: in Commitfile
on with mee.

Fal. Good M. Silencio, it well befits you should be of the peace.

Shal. Your good Worshipe, is welcome, sir. Pritchie A.

Fal. Eye, this is hot weather (Gentlemen): haue you
provided me here halfe a dozen of sufficient men? noуба
Shal. Marry haue we fir: Will you fir now I am
Fal. Let me see them, I befeech you.

Shal. Where's the Roll? Where's the Roll? Where's the Roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see: so, so, so, so:
yea marry Sir. Raphe Mouldie: let them appeare as I call:
let them do so, let them do so: Let mee see, Where is
Mouldie?

Moulde. Here, if it please you, Sir.

Shal. What thinke you (Sir John) a good limb'd fel-
low-yong, strong, and of good friends, and so forth,
Fal. Is thy name Mouldie?

Moulde. Yes, if it please you, Sir.

Shal. Tis the more time thou wert vs'd, for I am so
well faid.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, moft excellent. Things that are moul-
die, lacke vfe: very singular good. Well faide Sir John,
yea well faid.

Shal. Pricke him, old man, I will see him again.
Moulde. I am so.

Shal. I was prickt well enough before, if you could
have let me alone: my old Dame will be vndone now, for
one soe her Husbandry, and her Drudgery; you need
not to have prickt me, there are other men fitter to goe
then I am.

Shal. Go, sooo: peace Mouldie, you shall goe. Mouldie,
it is time you were ſpent.

Shallow. Peace, fellow, peace; ſtand afide: Know you
where you are? For the other fir John: Let me see ſimon
Shadow.

Shal. I matry, let me haue him to fit vnder: he's like to
be a cold fouldier.

Shal. Where's Shadow?

Shal. Where's Shadow? I know not, but a mid
Shal. Heere fir.

Shal. Shadow, whose fonne art thou 2 brusht as you haue
Shal. My Mothers fonne, Sir.

Fal. Thy Mothers fonne: like enough, and thy Fa-
thers shadow: to the ſonne of the Female, is the shadow
of the Male: it is often so indeed, but not of the Fathers
subſtance.

Shal. Do you like him, ſic John?

Fal. Shadow will ferue for Summer: pricke him: For
we have a number of ſhadowes to fill vp the Muſter-
Booke.

Shal. Thomas Wart?

Fal. Where's he?

Wart. Heere fir.

Fal. Is thy name Wart?

Wart. Yea, fir.

Fal. Thou art a very ragged Wart.

Shal. Shall I pricke him downe,

Sir John?

Fal. It were superfluous: for his apparel is built vp
on his backe, and the whole frame stands vpon pins: pricck
him no more.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, you can do it fir: you can doe it: I
recommend you well.

Francis Feeble,

Feeble. Heere fir.

Shal. What Trade are thou Feeble?

Feeble. A Womans Taylor fir.

Shal. Shall I pricke him, fir'd?

Fal. You may.

But if he had beene a man, Taylor, he would haue pricck'd
you. Wilt thou make as many holes in any enemies Bar-
taille, as thou haft done in a Woman's petticoate dog, or it
will be Feeble. I will do my good will fir, you can haue no
more.

Fal. Well faid, good Womans Tailour: Well fayde
Couragious Feeble: thou wilt bee as valiant as the wrath-
full Dowe, or moft magnanimous Moulfe. Pricke the wo-
mans Taylor well Mafter Shallow, deepc Mafter Shal-
low.

Feeble. I would Wart might haue gone fir.

Fal. I would thou wert a man, Taylor, that might ſt
mend him, and make him fit to goe. I cannot put him to
a private ſouldier, that is the Leader of so many, thou-
fands. Let that ſuffice, moſt Forcible Feeble.

Feeble. It shall ſuffice.

Fal. I am bound to thee, reuerend Feeble: Who is
the next?

Shal. Peter Bulcaife of the Greene.

Fal. Yea, marry, let vs fee. Bulcaſſe.

Bul. Heere fir.

Shal. Truft me, a likely Fellow. Come, pricke me Bul-
caſſe till he roare againe.

Bul. Oh, good my Lord Capraine.

Fal. What? do't thou roare before that pricke?

Bul. Oh fir, I am a diſeafed man.

Fal. What diſeafe haſt thou?

Bul. A whorſon cold fir, a cough fir, which I caught
with Ringing in the Kings affayres, vpon his Coronation
day, fir.

Shal. Come, thou ſhalt go to the Warres in a Gowne:
we will have away thy Cold, and I will take ſuch order,
that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is here all?

Shal. There is two more called then your number:
you muſt haue but foure here fir, and ſo I pray you go in
with me to dinner,

Fal. Come, I will goe drinke with you, but I cannot
stairry dinner. I am glad to see you in good troth, Mafter
Shallow.

Shal. O fir John, doe you remember ſince wee lay all
night in the Winde mill, in S Georges Field.

Fal. Falfaffe. - No more of that good Mafter Shallow: No
more of that.

Shal. Hap it was a merry night. And is Jane, Night-
worke aliuie?

Fal. She lives, M. Shallow.

Shal. Neuer neuer: ſhe would always say ſhee could
not abide M. Shallow.

Shal. I could anger her to the heart ſhee was then a
Bona Roba. Doth ſhe hold her owne well.

Fal. Old, old, old, M. Shallowed, old, old, old, old, old,

Shal. Nay, ſhe must be old, ſhe cannot choose but be
old.

gg

88

old: certaine thee's old: and had Robin Night-worke, by
old Night-worke, before I came to Clements Inne.

Sil. That's fiftie fue yeeres agoe.

Shal. Hab, Cousin Silence, that thou hadst feene that,
that this Knight and I haue feene: hab, Sir John, said I
well?

Falft. Wee haue heard the Chymes at mid-night, Ma-
fer Shallow.

Shal. That wee haue, that wee haue; in faith, Sir John,
wee haue : our watch-word was, Hem-Boyes. Come,
let's to Dinner; come, let's to Dinner: O thinke dayes that
wee haue feene. Come, come.

Bul. Good Mafter Corporate Bardolph, stand my
friend, and heree is foure Harry tenne fthillings in French
Crْownes for you: in very truth, fir; I had as ke of hang'd
fir, as goe 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 flay with my friends: cfe, fir, I did
not care, for mine owne part, so much.

Bard. Go-too: stand afide.

Mouldie. And good Mafter Corporall Captaine, for my
old Damies fake, stand my friend: thee hath no body to
doe any thing about her, when I am gone: and thee is old,
and cannot helpe her selfe: you shall haue fortye, fir.

Bard. Go-too: stand afide.

Feeble. I care not, a man can die but once: wee owe a
death. I will neuer beare a bafe minde: if it be my defi-
nie, fo: if it be not, so: no man is too good to ſerue his
Prince: and let it goe which way it will, he that dies this
yeere, is quit for the next.

Bard. Well faid, thou art a good fellow.

Feeble. Nay, I will beare no bafe minde.

Falft. Come fir, which men shall I haue?

Shal. Foure of which you pleafe.

Bard. Sir, a word with you: I haue three pound, to
free Mouldie and Bull-caffe.

Falft. Go-too: well.

Shal. Come, fir John, which foure will you haue?

Falft. Doe you chufe for me.

Shal. Marry then, Mouldie, Bull-caffe, Feeble, and
Shadow.

Falft. Mouldie, and Bull-caffe: for you Mouldie, stay
at home, till you are paft ſeruice: and for your part, Bull-
caffe, grow till you come vnto it: I will none of you,

Shal. Sir John, Sir John, doe not your ſelfe wrongs, they
are your likelye ſt men, and I would haue you ſeru'd with
the best.

Falft. Will you tell me (Master Shallow) how to chufe
a man? Care I for the Limbe, the Thewes, the ſtature,
butke, and bigge affembiance of a man? giue mee, the
spirit (Master Shallow.) Where's Wart? you fee what
a ragged appearance it is: hee ſhall charge you, and
discharge you, with the motion of a Pewterers. Ham-
mer: come off, and on, ſwifter then hee that gibbets on
the Brewers Bucket. And this fame halfe fac'd fellow,
Shadow, giue me this man: hee prefents no marke to the
Enemie, the foe-man may with as great ayme leuell at
the edge of a Pen-knife: and for a Retrait, how ſwifly
will this Feeble, the Womans Taylor, runne off. O, giue
me the spare men, and fpare me the great ones. Put me a
Calyuer into Wart's hand, Bardolph.

Bard. Hold Wart, Trauerſe: thus, thus, thus.

Falft. Come, manage me your Calyuer: so: very well,
go-too, very good; exceeding good. O, giue me alwayes
a little, leane, old, chopt, bald Shot. Well faid Wart, thou
part a good Scab: hold, there is a Tefler for thee,

Shal. Hee is not his Crafts-mafter, hee doth not de-
it right. I remember at Mile-end-Greene, when I lay
at Clements Inne, I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur
Show: there was a little quieter fellow, and hee would
manage you his Peece thus: and hee would about,
and about, and come you in, and come you in: Rah-
tah, tah, would hee ſay, Bownce would hee ſay, ne
away againe would hee goe, and againe would he come:
I shall neuer fee ſuch a fellow.

Falft. These fellowes will doe well, Maſter Shallow.
Farewell Maſter Silence, I will not vſe many words with
you: fare you well, Gentlemen both: I thank you.
I muſt a dozen mile to night, Bardolph, giue the Souldier
Coates.

Shal. Sir John, Heauen bleſſe you, and proſper your
Affaires, and ſend vs Peace. As you returne, with
my houſe. Let our old acquaintance be renewed: per-
aduenture I will with you to the Court.

Falft. I would you wotld, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. Go-too: I haue ſpoke at a word: Fare you
well. Exit.
Falft. Fare you well, gentle Gentlemen. On Bard-
dolph, leade the men away. As I returne, I will fetch
these Juſtices: I doe ſee the bottome of Juſtice Shal-
low. How ſubieſt wee old men are to this vice of Lu-
ing? This fame ſtaru'd. Juſtice hath done nothing but
prate to me of the wildeneſse of his Youth, and the
Feates hee hath done about Turnball-ſtreet, and every
third word a Lye, duer pay'd to the hearer, there
Turkes Tribute. I doe remember him at Clements Inne,
like a man made after Supper, of a Cheeſe-paring.
When hee was naked, hee was, for all the world, like a forkl
Radish, with a Head fantastically caru'd upon it with
Knife. Hee was so forlorne, that his Dimenſions (u
any thicke fight) were inuincible. Hee was the very
Genius of Famine: hee came euer in the rare-ward of
the Fashion: And now is this Vices Dagger becom'd
Squire, and talkes as familiarly of John of Gaunt, as
hee had beene ſworne Brother to him: and he be ſwor
hee neuer faw him but once in the Tilt-yard, and then
butf't his Head, for crowding among the Marſhals men.
I ſaw it, and told John of Gaunt, hee beat his own
Name, for you might haue ruff's'd him and all his Ap-
partrell into an Eele-skinner: the Cafe of a Treble Ho
boy was a Manſon for him: a Court: and now ha
hee Land, and Bceues. Well, I will be acquainted with
him, if I returne: and it shall goe hard, but I will make
him a Philofophers two Stones to me. If the young
Dace be a Bayt for the old Pike, I fee no reason in the
Law of Nature, but I may ſnap at him. Let time shape
and there an end.
Exemn.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Arch-bishop, Mowbray, Hastings,
Westmerland, Colculew.

Bish. What is this Forreſt call'd?

Haſt. Tis Gualtree Forreſt, and't shall pleate you
Grace.

Bish. Here stand (my Lords) and ſend disſouereſt forth
To know the numbers of our Enemies.
Haſt. We

91

Half. Wee haue sent forth alreadye.
Tab. 'Tis well done.
My Friends, and Brethren (in these great Affaires)
must acquaint you, that I haue receiv'd
New-dated Letters from Northumberland:

New-dated Letters from Northumberland:
Their cold intent, tenure, and substance thus,
There doth hee with his Person, with such Powers
As might hold fortitude with his Qualitie,
As which hee could not leuie: whereupon
The which hee could not leuie: to ripe his growing Fortunes,
Hee is rety'd, to ripe his growing Fortunes,
To Scotland; and concludes in heartie prayers,
That your Attempts may ouer-line the hazard,
And fearefull meeting of their Oppofite.

Mow. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,
And dath themelues to pieces.

Enter a Messenger.

Half. Now? what newes?

Mow. Weft of this Forrest, scarcely off a mile,
In goodly forme, comes on the Enemie:
And by the ground they hide, I judge their number
Upon, or neere, the rate of thirtie thousand.

Mow. The iuſt proportion that we gane them out.
Let vs way-on, and face them in the field.

Enter Westmerland.

Tab. What well-appointed Leader fronts vs here?

Mow. I thinke it is my Lord of Westmerland.

Mow. Health, and faire greeting from our Generall,
The Prince, Lord Jobu, and Duke of Lancaſter.

Tab. Say on (my Lord of Westmerland) in peace:
What doth concerne your coming?

Mow. Then (my Lord)
Vato your Grace doe I in chiefe addreſſe
The subſtance of my Speech. If that Rebellion
Came like it ſelſe, in bafe and abieſt Routs,
Led on by bloodie Youth, guarded with Rage,
And countenanc'd by Boyes, and Beggerie:
I ſay, if, daunn'd Commotion ſo appeare,
In his true, natüe, and moſt proper ſhape,
You (Reuerend Father, and thele Noble Lords)
Had not beene here, to drefſe the ougly forme
Of bafe, and bloodie Inſurrection,

With your faire Honors. You, Lord Arch-biſhep,
Whole Sea is by a Ciuill Peace maintain'd,
Whole Beard, the Siluer Hand of Peace hath touch'd,
Whole Learning, and good Letters, Peace hath tutor'd,
Whole white Inuëments figure Innocence,
The Dowe, and very bleſſed Spirit of Peace.
Wherefore doe you ſo ill tranſlate your ſelſe,
Out of the Speech of Peace, that beares ſuch grace,
Into the harth and boyſtrous Tongue of Warre?
Tuning your Bookes to Graues, your Inke to Blood,
Your Pennes to Launces, and your Tongue diuine
To a lowd Trumpet, and a Point of Warre.

Tab. Wherefore doe I this ? ſo the Quæſtion ſtands.
Briefely to this end: Wee are all diſeas'd,
And with our ſurſetting, and wanton howres,
Hae brought our ſelues into a burning Feuer,
And wee muſt bleede for it: of which Diſeale,
Our late King Richard (being inſected) dy'd.
But (my moſt Noble Lord of Westmerland)
I take not on me here as a Physician,
Not doe I as an Enemie to Peace,

TWOOPE in the Throngſs of Militarie men:
But rather ſhew a while like ſcarefull Warre,
To dyct ranke Mindes, ſicke of happineſſe,
And purge th'obſtruètions, which begin to flop
Our very Veines of Life: heare me more plainly.

I haue in equall ballance iuſtly weigh'd,
What wrongs our Arms may do, what wrongs we ſuffer,
And finde our Griefes heauier then our Offences.
Wee ſee which way the ſtreame of Time doth runne,
And are enforc'd from our moſt quiet there,
By the rough Torrent of Occafion,
And haue the ſummarie of all our Griefes
(When time ſhall ferue) to ſhew in Articles;
Which long ere this, wee offer'd to the King,
And might, by no Suit, gayne our Audience:
When wee are wrong'd, and would vnfold our Griefes,
Wee are deny'd acceſſe vnto his Perſon,
Euen by theſe men, that moſt haue done vs wrong.
The dangers of the dayes but newly gone,
Whofe memorie is written on the Earth
With 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 Branch of it,
But to eſtablish here a Peace indeede,
Concurring both in Name and Qualitie.

Mow. When euer yet was your Appeale deny'd?
Wherein haue you beene galled by the King?
What Peere hath beene ſuborn'd, to grate on you,
That you ſhould feale this lawleſſe bloody Booke
Of ſorg'd Rebellion, with a Scale diuine?

Mow. My Brother generall, the Common-wealth,
I make my Quarrell, in particular.

Mow. There is no neede of any ſuch redresse:
Or if there were, it not belongs to you.

Mow. Why not to him in part, and to vs all,
That ſele the bronzes of the dayes before,
And ſuffer the Condition of theſe Times
To lay a heauie and vnequall Hand vpon our Honors?

Mow. O my good Lord Amonbray,
Conſtrue the Times to their Necefitlieſt,
And you ſhall ſay (indeede) it is the Time,
And not the King, that doth you iniuries.
Yet for your part, it not appears to me,
Either from the King, or in the preſent Time,
That you ſhould haue an ynch of any ground
To build a Griefe on : were you not reſtor'd
To all the Duke of Norſtolkes Seignories,
Your Noble, and right well-remembred Fathers?

Mow. What thing, in Honor, had my Father loft,
That need to be reuïu'd, and breath'd in me?
The King that lou'd him, as the State ſlood then,
Was fore'd, perſorpe compell'd to banish him:
And then, that Henry Bullingbrooke and hee
Being mounted, and both rowſed in their Seates,
Their neighing Courſers daring of the Spurre,
Their armed Staues in charge, their Beauers downe,
Their eyes of fire, ſparkling through ſights of Steele,
And the lowd Trumpet blowing them together:
Then, then, when there was nothing could haue ſlay'd
My Father from the Breake of Bullingbrooke;
O, when the King did throw his Warder downe,
(His owne Life hung vpon the Staſſe hee threw)
Then threw hee downe himſelſe, and all their Liues,
That by Indictment, and by dint of Sword,
Hae ſince miſ-carryed vnder Bullingbrooke.

Mow. You.

EB 2

Weft. You speak (Lord Mowbray) now you know not what.

he Earle of Hereford was reputed then
in England the moſt valiant Gentleman.

Who knowes, on whom Fortune would then haue ſmil'd?
But if your Father had beene Vicer there,
Hee ne're had borne it out of Couentry.
For all the Countrie,in a generall voyce,

Cry'd hate vpon him: and all their prayers,and loue,
Were ſet on Herford, whom they dotted on,
And bleſſ'd, and grac'd, and did more then the King.

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 hee will giue you Audience: and wherein
It ſhall appeare, that your demands are iuſt,

You ſhall enioy them, euery thing ſet off,

That might ſo much as thinke you Enemies.

Mow. But hee hath ſor'd vs to compell this Offer,
And it proceeds from Polliſy, not Loue.

Weſt. Mowbray, you ouer-weene to take it ſo:

This Offer comes from Mercy, not from Feare.

For loe, within a Ken our Army lyes,
Vpon mine Honor, all too confident

To giue admittance to a thought of feare.

Our Battailc is more full of Names then yours,
Our Men more perſect in the vſe of Armes,

Our Armor all as ſtrong, our Caufe the beſt;
Then Reaſon will, our hearts ſhould be as good.

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

Mow. Well, by my will, wee ſhall admit no Parley.

Weſt. That argues but the ſhame of your offeſe:
A rotten Caſe abides no handling.

Haff. Hath the Prince John a full Commiſſion,

In very ample vertue of his Father,

To heare, and abſolutely to determine

Of what Conditions wee ſhall ſtand vpon?

Weſt. That is intended in the Generals Name:

I mute you make ſo flight a Queſtion.

Haff. Then take (my Lord of Weſtmerland) this Schedule,

For this contains our generall Grieuances:

Each ſeverall Article herein redreſs'd,
All members of our Caufe, both here, and hence,

That are inſinued to this Action,
Acquitted by a true ſubſtantiall forme,

And preſent execution of our wills,

To vs, and to our purpofes ſonſ'd,

Wee come within our awſull Banks againe,

And knit our Powers to the Arme of Peace.

Weſt. This will I ſhew the Generall. Pleaſe you Lords,

In flight of both our Battailces, wee may meete
At either end in peace: which Heauen ſo frame,

Or to the place of difference call the Swords,
Which muſt decide it.

Bifb. My Lord, wee will doe ſo.

Mow. There is a thing within my Boſome tells me,
That no Conditions of our Peace can ſtand.

Haff. Feare you not, that if wee can make our Peace
Vpon ſuch large termes, and ſo abſolure,

As our Conditions ſhall conſiſt vpon,

Our Peace ſhall ſtand as firme as Rockie Mountaines.

Mow. I, but our valuation ſhall be ſuch,

That euery flight, and falſe-deriued Caufe,
Yea, euery idle, nice, and wanton Reaſon,

Shall, to the King, taſte of this Action:

That were our Royall faiths, Martyrs in Loue,

Wee ſhall be winnowed with ſo rough a winde,

That euen our Corne ſhall ſeeme as light as Chaffe,
And good from bad finde no partition.

Bifb. No, no (my Lord) note this: the King is weare
Of daintie, and iuch picking Grieuances:

For hee hath found, to end one doubt by Death,
Reuiques two greater in the Heires of Life.

And therefore will hee wipe his Tables cleane,

And keepe no Tell-tale to his Memorie,

That may repeat, and Hiftorie his loſſe,

To new remembrance. For full well hee knowes,
Hee cannot ſo precifely weede this Land,

As his miſ-doubts preſent occasion :

His ſees are ſo en-rooted with his friends,

That plucking to vnſixe an Enemie,

Hee doth vnſaſten ſo, and ſhake a friend.

So that this Land, like an offenſive wife,

That hath enrag'd him on, to offer ſtrokes,

As he is ſtriking, holds his Infant vp,

And hangs refuſ'd Correction in the Arme,

That was vprear'd to execution.
Haff. Befides, the King hath waſtred all his Rods,

On late Offenders, that he now doth lacke

The very Inſtruments of Chaſticement :

So that his power, like to a Fangleſſe Lion

May offer, but not hold.

Bifb. 'Tis very true :

And therefore be affur'd (my good Lord Marſhal)
If we do now make our attonement well,

Our Peace, will (like a broken Limbe vnited)
Grow ſtronger, for the breaking.

Mow. Be it ſo :

Heere is return'd my Lord of Weſtmerland.

Enter Weſtmerland.

Weſt. The Prince is here at hand: pleafeth your Lordship,
To meet his Grace, iuſt diſtance; t'weene our Armies.

Mow. Your Grace of Yorke, in heauen's name then
forward.

Bifb. Before, and greet his Grace (my Lord) we come.

Enter Prince John.

John. You are wel encuronred here (my Colin Mowbray)

Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbifhop,

And ſo to you, Lord Haffings, and to all.

My Lord of Yorke, it better ſhew'd with you,
When that your Flocke (aſſembled by the Bell)

Encircled you, to heare with reverence

Your exſpofion on the holy Text,

Then now to ſee you heere an Iron man

Chearing a rowt of Rebels with your Drumme,

Turning the Word, to Sword; and Life to death:

That man that fits within a Monarches heart,

And ripens in the Sunne: ſhine of his fauor,

Would hee abufe the Countenance of the King,

Alack, what Miſchefes might hee ſet abroad,

In ſhadow of ſuch Greatneſſe? With you, Lord Bifhop,

It is euen ſo. Who hath not heard it ſoken,

How deepe you were within the Bookes of Heauen?
To vs, the Speaker in his Parliament;

To vs, th' imagine Voyce of Heauen it ſelfe :

The very Opener, and Intelligencen,

Betweene the Grace, the Saſtities of Heauen,

And our dull workings. O, who ſhall beleeue,
But you miſ-vſe the reuerence of your Place,

Employ the Countenance, and Grace of Heauen,

As a falſe Fauorite doth his Princes Name,

In deedes diſ-honorable? You haue taken vp

Vande

91

Under the counterfeited Zeale of Heauen,
The Subjects of Heauens Substitute, my Father,
And both against the Peace of Heauen, and him,
And here vp-swarmed them.

Bib. Good my Lord of Lancafter,

I am not here against your Fathers Peace:
But (as I told my Lord of Westmerland)
The Time (mif-order'd) doth in common fence
Crowd vs, and crush vs, to this monſtrous Forme,
The parcels, and particulars of our Griefe,
The which hath been with ſorne ſhou'd from the Court:
Whereon this Hydra-Sonne of Warre is borne,
Whole dangerous eyes may well be charm'd aſſleepe,
With graunt of our moſt iuſt and right deſires;
And true Obedience, of this Madneſſe cur'd,
Snope tamely to the foot of Maieſtice.

Mow. If not, wee readie are to trye our fortunes,
To the last man.

Hast. And though wee here fall downe,
Wee haue Supplyes, to ſecond our Attempt:
If they miſ-carry, theirs ſhall ſecond them.
And ſo, ſucceſſe of Mifchieſe shall be borne,
And Heire from Heire ſhall hold this Quarrell vp,
Whiles England ſhall haue generation.

Iohn. You are too ſhallow (Haſtings)

Much too ſhallow,

To found the bottome of the after-Times.

Woff. Pleaſeth your Grace, to anſwere them directly,
How farre-forth you do like their Articles.

Iohn. I like them all, and doe allow them well:
And weare here, by the honor of my blood,
My Fathers purpoſes haue beene miſtooke,
And ſome, about him, haue too lauſhly

Wreited his meaning, and Authoritie.
My Lord, theſe Grieſhes shall be with ſpeed redreſt:
Vpon my Life, they ſhall. If this may please you,
Difcharge your Powers vnto their ſeverall Counties,
As wee will ours : and here, betweene the Armies,
Let's drinke together friendly, and embrace,
That all their eyes may beare theſe Tokens home,
Of our reſtored Loue, and Amitie.

Bib. I take your Princely word, for theſe redreſſes.

Iohn. I giue it you, and will maintaine my word:
And thereupon I drinke vnto your Grace.

Hast. Goe Captaine, and deliuer to the Armie
This neſwes of Peace: let them haue pay, and part :
I know, it will well please them.

High Vice Captaine.

Exit.

Bib. To you, my Noble Lord of Westmerland.

Woff. I pledge your Grace:

And if you knew what paines I haue beſtow'd,
To drinke this prefent Peace,

You would drinke freely; but my loue to ye,
Shall neſt it ſelſe more openly hereafter.

Bib. I doe not doubt you.

Woff. I am glad of it.

Health to my Lord, and gentle Couſin Mowbray.

Mow. You wigh me health in very happy ſeaton,
For I am, on the sodaine, ſomething ill.

Bib. Against ill Chances, men are euer merry,

But heaueneſſe fore-runnes the good cuent.

Woff. Therefore be merry (Cooze) ſince sodaine ſorrow
Serves to lay thus: ſome good thing comes to morrow.

Bib. Beleeue me, I am paffing light in ſpirit.

Mow. So much the worſe, if your owne Rule be true.

Iohn. The word of Peace is render'd: hearke how
they ſhowt.

Mow. This had been chearefull, after Vicerie.

Bib. A Peace is of the nature of a Conqueſt:

For then both parties nobly are ſubdu'd,
And neither partie looſer.

Iohn. Goe (my Lord)

And let our Army be diſcharged too:

And good my Lord (fo please you) let our Traines

March vs, that wee may perſufe the men.

Wee ſhould haue coap'd withall.

Bib. Goe, good Lord Haſtings:

And ere they be diſmifs'd, let them march by.

Iohn. I truſt (Lords) wee ſhall lye to night together.

Enter Westmerland.

Now Couſin, wherefore ſtands our Army ſtill?

Woff. The Leaders hauing charge from you to ſtand,

Will not goe off, vntill they heare you ſpeake.

Iohn. They know their duties.

Enter Haſtings.

Hast. Our Army is diſpers'd:

Like youthfull Sceeres, vnyoak'd, they tooke their courſe
Eaſt, Weſt, North, South: or like a Schoole, broke vp,

Each hurryes towards his home, and ſporting place.

Woff. Good tidings (my Lord Haſtings) for the which,
I doe arreſt thee (Traytor) of high Treſaon:

And you Lord Arch-biſhop, and you Lord Mowbray,
Of Capitall Treſaon, I attach you both.

Mow. Is this proceeding iuſt, and honorable?

Woff. Is your Aſſembly ſo?

Bib. Will you thus breake your faith ?

Iohn. I pawn'd thee none:

I promis'd you redreſſe of theſe fame Grieuances
Whereof you did complaine; which, by mine Honor,
I will performe, with a moſt Christian care.

But for you (Rebels) looke to taſte the due
Meet for Rebellion, and ſuch Aſts as yours.

Moſt ſhallowly did you theſe Armes commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolſhly ſent hence.

Strike vp our Drummes, purſue the ſcatter'd ſtray,
Heauen, and not wee, haue safely fought to day.

Some guard theſe Traitors to the Block of Death,
Treſaons true Bed, and yeelder vp of breath.

Exeunt.

Enter Falſtaſſe and Colleuile.

Falſt. What's your Name, Sir? of what Condition are
you? and of what place, I pray?

Col. I am a Knight, Sir:

And my Name is Cokenile of the Dale.

Falſt. Well then, Colleuile is your Name, a Knight is
your Degree, and your Place, the Dale. Colleuile ſhall
ſtill be your Name, a Traytor your Degree, and the Duni-
geon your Place, a place deepe enough: ſo ſhall you be
ſtill Colleuile of the Dale.

Col. Are not you Sir John Falſtaſſe?

Falſt. As goodaman as he ſir, who ere I am: doe yee
yeelde ſir, or ſhall I ſweate for you? if I doe ſweate, they
are the drops of thy Louers, and they weep for thy death,
therefore rowz vp Feare and Trembling, and do obſer-
ance to my mercy.

Col. I thinke you are Sir John Falſtaſſe, & in that thought
yeeld me.

Falſt. I haue a whole Schoole of tongues in this belly of
mine, and not a Tongue of them all, ſpeakes anie other
word but my name: and I had but a belly of any indiffe-
rencie. I were ſimply the moſt aſtiume fellow in Europe:
my wombe, my wombe, my wombe vndoes mee. Heere
comes our Generall.

gg 3

Enter

92

Enter Prince John, and Westmerland.

John. The heat is past, follow no farther now:
Call in the Powers, good Cousin Westmerland.
Now Falstaffe, where haue you beene all this while?
When euery thing is ended, then you come.
These tardie Tricks of yours will (on my life)
One time, or other, breake some Gallowes back.

Falstaff. I would bee forry (my Lord) but it should bee thus: I neuer knew yet, but rebuke and checke was the reward of Valour. Doe you think me a Swallow, an Arrow, or a Bullet? Haue I, in my poore and olde Motion, the expedition of Thought? I haue speeded hither with the very extremest ynch of possibilitie. I haue sowndred nine score and odde Poftes: and heere (trauell-tainted as I am) haue, in my pure and immaculate Valour, taken Sir John Colleuile of the Dale, a moft furious Knight, and valorous Enemie: But what of that? hee saw mee, and yeielded: that I may iustly say with the hooke-nos'd fellow of Rome, I came, saw, and ouer-came.

John. It was more of his Courtesie, then your defer-
ing.

Falstaff. I know not: heere hee is, and heere I yeeld him: and I befeech your Grace, let it be book'd, with the reft of this dayes deedes; or Ioweare, I will haue it in a particular Ballad, with mine owne Picture on the top of it (Colleuile killing my foot:) To the which courfe, if I be enforc'd, if you do not all shew like gilt two-pences to me; and I, in the cleare Skie of Fame, o're-shine you as much as the Full Moone doth the Cynders of the Element (which shew like Pinnes-heads to her) beleeue not the Word of the Noble: therefore let mee haue right, and let defert mount.

John. Thine's too heauie to mount.

Falstaff. Let it thine then.

John. Thine's too thick to shorne.

Falstaff. Let it doe something (my good Lord) that may
doe me good, and call it what you will.

John. Is thy Name Colleuile?

Col. It is (my Lord.)

John. A famous Rebell art thou, Colleuile.

Falstaff. And a famous true Subiect tooke him.

Col. I am (my Lord) but as my Betters are,
That led me hither: had they beene rul'd by me,
You should haue wonne them dearer then you haue.

Falstaff. I know not how they fold them selues, but thou
like a kinde fellow, gau'ft thy selfe away; and I thanke
thee, for thee.

Enter Westmerland.

John. Haue you left purfuit?

West. Retreat is made, and Execution stay'd.

John. Send Colleuile, with his Confederates,
To Yorke, to preſent Execution.

Blunt, leade him hence, and see you guard him fure.

Exit with Colleuile.

And now difpatch we toward the Court (my Lords)
I heare the King, my Father, is fore fique.

Our Newes shall goe before vs, to his Maiestie,
Which (Coufin) you shall beare, to comfort him;
And wee with Iober ſpeede will follow you.

Falstaff. My Lord, I befeech you, giue me leaue to goe through Glouceſtershire: and when you come to Court, ſtand my good Lord, pray, in your good report.

John. Fare you well, Falstaffe: I, in my condition,
Shall better ſpeake of you, then you deferue.
Exit.

Falstaff. I would you had but the wit: I were better
then your Dukedome. Good faith, this fame young so,
ber-blooded Boy doth nor loue me, nor a man cannot
make him laugh: but that's no manuall, hee drinks no
Wine. There's neuer any of these demure Boyes come
to any proofe: for thinne Drinke doth so ouer-coole
their blood, and making many Fifti-Meales, that they
fall into a kinde of Male Greene-fickneſſe: and then,
when they marry, they get Wenches. They are generally
Fooles, and Cowards; which ſome of vs should betoo,
but for inflammation. A good Sherris-Sack hath a twofold operation in it: it ascends me into the Braine, dries me there all the fooliſh, and dull, and cruddie Vapours, which enuiron it: makes it apprehenſiue, quicke, forgetiue, full of nimble, fierie, and deleſtable ſhapes; which deliuer'd o're to the Voyce, the Tongue, which is the Birth, becomes excellent Wit. The second property of your excellent Sherris, is, the warming of the Blood, which before (cold, and fetled) left the Liuer white, and pale; which is the Badge of Puſtillanimitie, and Cowade; but the Sherris warmes it, and makes it coouſe from the inwards, to the parts extremes: it illuminateth the Face, which (as a Beacon) giues warning to all the reſt of this little Kingdome (Man) to Arme: and then the Vitall Commoners, and in-land pettie Spirits, muſer me all to their Captaine, the Heart; who great, and puſſvp with his Reſinue, doth any Deed of Courage: and this Valour comes of Sherris. So, that skill in the Weapon is nothing, without Sack (for that fets it a-work): and Learning, a meere Hoord of Gold, kept by a Deuill, till Sack commences it, and fets it in act, and wfe. Hereof comes it, that Prince Harry is valiant: for the cold blooded hee did naturally inherit of his Father, hee hath, like leane, firtrill, and bare Land, manured, husbanded, and tyll'd, with excellent endeauour of drinking good, and good ſlore of fertile Sherris, that hee is become very hot, and valiant. If I had a thouſand Sonnes, the firſt Principle I would teach them, ſhould be to forſweare thinne Potations, and to addiſt them ſelues to Sack. Enter Bardolph.
How now Bardolph?

Bard. The Armie is diſcharged all, and gone.

Falstaff. Let them goe: Ile through Glouceſter ſhine
and there will I viſit Maſter Robert Shallow, Eſequie: I
haue him alreadye tempering betweene my ſinger and my
thombe, and ſhortly will I ſeale with him. Come away.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter King, Warwick, Clarence, Glouceſter.
King. Now Lords, if Heauen doth giue ſucceſſe full end
To this Debate, that bleedeth at our doores,
Wee will our Youth lead on to higher Fields,
And draw no Swords, but what are ſanctify'd.
Our Naieie is addreſſed, our Power collected,
Our Subſtitutes, in abſence, well inueſted,
And euery thing lyes leuell to our with;
Onely wee want a little perſonall Strength:
And pawſe vs, till theſe Rebels, now a-foot,
Come underneath the yoake of Gouernment.

War. Both which we doubt not, but your Maiestie
Shall ſoone enjoy.

King. Hau-

93

King. Humphrey (my Sonne of Gloucester) where is the Prince your Brother?

Glo. I thinke hee's gone to hunt (my Lord) at Wind-

for.
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) hee is in prefence here.

Clar. What would my Lord, and Father?

King. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence,
How chance thou art not with the Prince, thy Brother?

Hee loues thee, and thou do'st neglect him (Thomas.)

Thou haft a better place in his Affection,

Then all thy Brothers: cherish it (my Boy)

And Noble Offices thou may'ft 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 leming cold, or careleſſe of his will.

For hee is gracious, if hee be obſeru'd :

Hee hath a Teare for Pitie, and a Hand

Open (as Day) for melting Charitie :

Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, hee's Flint,

As humorous as Winter, and as sudden,

As Flawes congealed in the Spring of day.

His temper therefore muſt be well obſeru'd :

Chide him for faults, and doe it reuerently,

When you perceiue his blood enclin'd to mirth:

But being moodie, giue him Line, and scope,

Till that his paſſions (like a Whale on ground)

Conſound them ſelues with working. Learne this Thomas,

And thou ſhal proue a ſhelter to thy friends,

A Hoop of Gold, to binde thy Brothers in:

That the united Veffell of their Blood

(Mingled with Venome of Suggesſion,

As force, perſence, the Age will powre it in)

Shall neuer leake, though it doe worke as ſtrong

As Acornum, or rafh Gun-powder.

Clar. Hee is not there to day : hee dines in Lon-

don.
King. And how accompanied ? Canſt thou tell that?

Clar. With Pointz, and other his continuall fol-

lowers.
King. Moſt fubieſt is the fatſeft Soyle to Weedes :

And hee (the Noble Image of my Youth)

Is ouer-spread with them: therefore my griefe

Stretches it ſelfe beyond the howre of death.

The blood weepes from my heart, when I doe ſhape

(In ſormes imaginarie) th'vnguided Dayes,

And rotten Tames, that you shall looke vpon,

When I am ſleeping with my Anceſtors.

For when his head-ſtrong Riot hath no Curbe,

When Rage and hot-Blood are his Counſailors,

When Mesnes and lauſh Manners meete together;

Oh, with what Wings shall his Affections flye

Towards fronting Perill, and oppos'd 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 needfull, that the moſt immodest word

Be look'd vpon, and learn'd: which once attayn'd,
Your Highneſſe knowes, comes to no farther vſe,
But to be knowne, and hated. So, like groſſe termes,
The Prince will, in the perſecuſe of time,
Caſt oſſ his followers: and their memorie

Shall as a Patterne, or a Meaſure, liue,

By which his Grace muſt mete the ſlues of others,

Turning paſt-euills to aduantages.

King. Tis ſeldome, when the Bee doth leaue her Combe
In the dead Carrion.

Enter Weſtmerland.

Who's heere ? Weſtmerland ?

Weſt. Health to my Soueraigne, and new happineſſe
Added to that, that I am to deliuer.

Prince John, your Sonne, doth kiffe your Graces Hand:

Mowbray, the Bifhop, Scroope, Haffings, and all,

Are brought to the Correction of your Law.

There is not now a Rebels Sword vnſheath'd,

But Peace puts forth her Oliue euery where:

The manner how this Action hath beene borne,

Here (at more leyſure) may your Highneſſe reade,

With euery courſe, in his particular.

King. O Weſtmerland, thou art a Summer Bird,

Which euer in the haunch of Winter ſings

The lifting vp of day.

Enter Harcourt.

Looke, heere's more newes.

Harc. From Enemies, Heauen keepe your Maieſtie:

And when they stand againſt you, may they fall,

As thate that I am come to tell you of.

The Eatle Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolſe,

With a great Power of English, and of Scots,

Are by the ſhigrife of Yorkeſhire ouerthrowne:

The manner, and true order of the fight,

This Packet (pleafe it you) containes at large.

King. And wherefore should these good newes

Make me ſlicke?

Will Fortune neuer come with both hands full,

But write her faire words ſtill in fouleft Letters ?

Shee eyther giues a Stomack, and no Foode,

(Such are the poore, in health) or else a Feaſt,

And takes away the Stomack (such are the Rich,

That haue abundance, and enjoy it not. )

I should reioyce now, at this happy newes,

And now my Sight ſayles, and my Braine is giddie.

O me, come neere me, now I am much ill.

Glo. Comfort your Maieſtie.

Cla. Oh, my Royall Father.

Weſt. My Soueraigne Lord, cheare vp your ſelfe, looke
vp.

War. Be patient (Princes) you doe know, these ſits
Are with his Highneſſe very ordinarie.

Stand from him, giue him ayre :

Hee le'le straight be well.

Clar. No, no, hee cannot long hold out: these pangs,
Th' inſeſſant care, and labour of his Minde,
Hath wrought the Mure, that should confine it in,
So thinne, that Life looks through, and will breake out.

Glo. The people feare me: for they doe obſerue

Vnfather'd Heires, and loathly Births of Nature:

The Seaſons change their manners, as the Yeere

Had found ſome Moneths aſſleepe, and leap'd them ouer.

Clar. The Riuer hath thrice flow'd, no ebbe betweene:
And the old folke (Times doting Chronicles)

Say it did ſo, a little time before

That our great Grand-ſire Edward ſick'd, and dy'd.

SG 4

War. Speake

94

War. Speake lower (Princes) for the King recouers.

Glo. This Apoplexie will (certaine) be his end.

King. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence
Into some other Chamber: sofely pray.

Let there be no noyſe made (my genile friends)

Vnleſſe ſome dull and fauourable hand

Will whisper Muficke to my wearie Spirit.

War. Call for the Muficke in the other Roome.

King. Set me the Crowne vpon my Pillow here.

Clar. His eye is hollow, and hee changes much.

War. Leſſe noyſe, leſſe noyſe.

Enter Prince Henry.

P.Hen. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

Clar. I am here (Brother) tull of heauinesse.

P.Hen. How now? Raine within doores, and none
abroad? How doth the King?

Glo. Exceeding ill.

P.Hen. Heard hee the good newes yet?

Tell it him.

Glo. Hee alter'd much, vpon the hearing it.

P.Hen. If hee be ſicke with Joy,

Hee're recouer without Phyſicke.

War. Not so much noyſe (my Lords)

Sweet Prince ſpeake lowe.

The King, your Father, is dispos'd to ſleepe.

Clar. Let vs with-draw into the other Roome.

War. Wil't please your Grace to goe along with vs?

P.Hen. No: I will fit, and watch here, by the King.

Why doth the Crowne lye there, vpon his Pillow,
Being so troublesome a Bed-fellow?

O polliſh'd Perturbation! Golden Care!

That keep't the Ports of Slumber open wide,
To many a watchfull Night: ſleepe with it now,
Yet not so found, and halfe so deeply ſweete,
As hee whose Brow (with homely Biggen bound)

Snores out the Watch of Night. O Maiestie!

When thou do't pinch thy Bearer, thou do't fit

Like a rich Armor, worne in heat of day,

That fald't with ſafetie: by his Gates of breath,

There lyes a dowlney feather, which ſtirres not:

Did hee ſupſire, that light and weightleſſe dowlne

Perſorce muſt moue. My gracious Lord, my Father,

This ſleepe is found indeede: this is a ſleepe,

That from this Golden Rigoll hach diuore'd

So many English Kings. Thy due, from me,

Is Teares, and heauie Sorrowes 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, heere it ſits,

Which Heauen ſhall guard :

And put the worlds whole ſtrength into one gyant Arme,
It shall not force this Lineall 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 ? how fares your
Grace?

King. Why did you leaue me here alone (my Lord)
Cla. We left the Prince (my Brother) here (my Liege)
Who vndertooke to fit and watch by you.

King. The Prince of Wales? where is hee? let me
lee him.

War. This doore is open, hee is gone this way.

Glo. Hee came not through the Chamber where we
flayd.

King. Where is the Crowne ? who tooke it from my
Pillow?

War. When wee with-drew (my Liege) wee left it
here.

King. The Prince hath ta'n it hence:
Goe ſeeke him out.

Is hee so haſtie, that hee doth ſupſoſe

My ſleepe, my death? Finde him (my Lord of Warwick)

Chide him hither: this part of his conioynes

With my diſeafe, and helps to end me.

See Sonnes, what things you are :

How quickly Nature falls into reuolt,

When Gold becomes her Obieſt?

For this, the foolish ouer-carefull Fathers

Hae broke their ſleepes with thoughts,

Their brains with care, their bones with induſtty.

For this, they haue ingroſſed and pyl'd vp

The canker'd heapes of ſtrange-atcheued Gold:

For this, they haue beene thought full, to inueſt

Their Sonnes with Arts, and Martiall Exercites:

When, like the Bee, culling from euery flower

The vertuous Sweetes, our Thighes packt with Wax,

Our Mouthes with Honey, wee bring it to the Flue;

And like the Bees, are murthered for our paines.

This bitter taſte yeelds his engroſſements,

To the ending Father.

Enter Warwicke.

Now, where is hee, that will not ſtay so long,
Till his Friend Sickneſſe hath determin'd me?

War. My Lord, I found the Prince in the next Roome,
Washing with kindly Teares his gentle Cheekes,
With ſuch a deepe demeanure, in great ſorrow,
That Tyranny, which neuer quaffit but blood,
Would (by beholding him) haue waf'd his Knife
With gentle eye-drops. Hee is comming hither.

King. But wherefore did hee take away the Crowne?

Enter Prince Henry.

Loe, where hee comes. Come bither to me (Harry).

Depart the Chamber, leaue vs here alone.

Exit.

P.Hen. I neuer thought to heare you ſpeake againe.

King. Thy wifh was Father (Harry) to that thought:

I ſtay too long by thee, I wearie thee.

Do't thou ſo hunger for my emptye Chayre,

That thou wilt needes inueſt thee with mine Honors,

Before thy howre be ripe? O foolish Youth!

Thou ſeeſt the Greatneſſe, that will ouer-whelme thee.

Stay but a little: for my Cloud of Dignitie

Is held from falling, with ſo weake a winde,

That it will quickly drop: my Day is dimme.

Thou haſt ſtolne that, which after some ſew howres

Were thine, without offence; and at my death

Thou haſt ſeal'd vp my expeſation.

Thy Life did manifeſt, thou lou'd me not.

And thou wilt haue me dye aſu'l'd of it.

Thou huid't a thouand Daggers in thy thoughts,

Which thou haſt whetted on thy ſtonie heart,

To ſtab at halfe an howre of my Life.

What? canſt thou not forbeare me halfe an howre?

Then

95

Then get thee gone, and digg my graue thy selfe,
And bid the merry Bels ring to thy care,
That thou art Crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the Teares, that should bedew my Hearfe
Beadrops of Balme, to sanctifie thy head;
Ouly compound me with forgotten dust.
Gue that, which graue thee life, vnto the Wormes :
Placke downe my Officers, breake my Decrees;
For now a time is come, to mocke at Forme.
Henry the fit is Crown'd: Vp Vanity,
Downe Royall State: All you fage Counsailors, hence:
And to the English Court, assemble now
From eu'ry Region, Apes of Idlenesse,

Now neighbor-Confines, purge you of your Scum :
Have you a Ruffian that I'll weare? drinke? dance?
Rebell the night? Rob? Murder? and commit
The oldest finnes, the newest kind of wayes?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more:
England, shall double gill'd, his trebble guilt.
England, shall giue him Office, Honor, Might:
For the Fift Harry, from curb'd Licensc pluckes
The nozzle of Restraint; and the wilde Dogge
Shall fleth his tooth in euery Innocent.

O my poore Kingdome (ficke, with ciuill blowes).
When that my Care could not with-hold thy Ryots,
What wilt thou do, when Ryot is thy Care?
O, thou wult be a Wildenesse againe,
Peopled with Wolues (thy old Inhabitants).

Prince. Oardon me (my Liege)

But for my Teares,

The moſt Impediments vnto my Speech,
I had fore-stall'd this deere, and deepe Rebuke,
Ereyou (with greefe) had ſpoke, and I had heard
The course of it so farre. There is your Crowne,
And he that weares the Crowne immortally,

Long guard it yours. If I affect it more,

Then as your Honour, and as your Renowne,

Letme no more from this Obedience rife,

Which my moſt true, and inward duteous Spirit

Teacheth this proſtrate, and externe'd bending.

Heauen wimneſſe with me, when I heere came in,
And found no course of breath within your Maieſleſſe,
How cold it riloke my heart. If I do faine,

O let me, in my prefent wildenesse, dye,

And nener line, to shew th'ineredulous World,

The Noble change that I haue purpofed.

Comming to looke on you, thinking you dead,

(And dead almost (my Liege) to thinke you were)

I pake vnto the Crowne (as hauing ſenſe)

And thus vypraide it. The Care on thee depending,

Hath fed vpon the body of my Father,

Therefore, thou beſt of Gold, art work of Gold.

Other, leſſefine in Charract, is more precious,

Preſering life, in Med'cine potable:

But thou, moſt Fine, moſt Honour'd, moſt Renown'd,
Hast eate the Bearer vp.

Thus (my Royall Liege)

Accuſing it, I put it on my Head,

To try with it (as with an Enemie,

That had before my face murdred my Father.)

The Quarrell of a true Inheritor.

But if it did inſect my blood with Ioy,

Or Iwell my Thoughts, to any straine of Prides,

If any Rebell, or vaine ſpirit of mine,

Did, with the leaſt Aſfection of a Welcome,

Gue entertainment to the might of it,

Let heauen, for euer, keepe it from my head,
And make me, as the poorest Vassaile is,
That doth with awe, and terror kneele to it.

King. O my Sonne!

Heauen put it in thy minde to take it hence,
That thou might't ioyne the more, thy Father's loue,
Pleading so wilely, in excufe of it.

Come hither Harrie, ſit thou by my bedde,
And heare (I thinke, the very laceſt Connell)

That euer I ſhall breath: Heauen knowes, my Sonne)

By what by-pathes, and indirect crook'd-wayes

Iaeret this Crowne: and I my ſelfe know well

How troubleſome it fate vpon my head.

To thee, it ſhall descend with better Quiet,

Better Opinion, better Confirmation:

For all the ſoyle of the Atchieuement goes

With me, into the Earth. It ſeem'd in mee,

But as an Honour ſnatch'd with boyſt'rous hands,

And I had many liuing, to vypraide

My gaine of it, by their Aſſtances,

Which dayly grew to Quarrell, and to Blood-shed,

Wounding ſuppoſed Peace.

All these bold Feezers,

Thou ſeet (with perill) I haue anſWERED:

For all my Reigne, hath beene but as a Scene

Acting that argument. And now my death

Changes the Moode: For what in me, was purcias'd,

 falles vpon thee, in a more ſayer ſort.

So thou, the Garland wear't ſuſeſſuely.

Yet, though thou ſtand'ſt more ſure, then I could doſt

Thou art not firme enough, ſince greeſes are greener.

And all thy Friends, which thou muſt make thy Friends

Hae but their ſtings, and teeth, newly tak'n our,

By whole ſell working, I was first aduanc'd,

And by whole power, I well might lodge a Feare.

To be againe displac'd. Which to auoyd,

I cut them off: and had a purpofe now

To leade out many to the Holy Land;

Leaſt reſt, and lying ſill, might make them looke

Too neere vnto my State.

Therefore (my Harrie)

Be it thy course to buſe giddy Mindes

With Forraigne Quarrels: that Action hence borne out,

May wafe the memory of the former dayes.

More would it, but my Lungs are wafed ſo,

That ſtrength of Speech is vetterly demi'd mee.

How I came by the Crowne, O heauen forgiue a

And grant it may, with thee, in true peace liue.

Prince. My gracious Liege:

You wonne it, wore it: kept it, gaue it me,

Then plaine and right muſt my poſſeffion be:

Which I, with more, then with a Common paine,

'Gainſt all the World, will rightfully mainſtaine.

Enter Lord John of Lancaſter,
and Warwick.

King. Looke, looke,

Heere comes my John of Lancaſter:

John. Health, Peace, and Happineſſe,

To my Royall Father.

King. Thou bring't me happineſſe and Peace.

(Sonne John:

But health (alacke) with youthfull wings is flownne

From this bare, wither'd Trunke. Upon thy fight

My worldly buſineſſe makes a period.

Where

96

Where is my Lord of Warwick?

Prin. My Lord of Warwick.

King. Doth any name particular, belong

Vnto the Lodging, where I first did (woon'd?

War. 'Tis call'd *Ierusalem*, my Noble Lord.

King. Laud be to heauen :

Euen there my life muft end.

It hath beene propheſi'd to me many yeares,
I should not dye, but in *Ierusalem* :

Which (vainly) I suppos'd the Holy-Land.

But beare me to that Chamber, there Ile yee :

In that *Ierusalem*, shall Harry dye.

Exeunt.

Enter Shallow, Silence, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Page, and Danie.

Shal. By Cocke and Pye, you shall not away to night.

What *Dauy*, I say.

Fal. You muſt excuse me, M. Robert Shallow.

Shal. I will not excuse you : you shall not be excused.

Excufes shall not be admitted : there is no excuse shall ferue : you shall not be excus'd.

Why *Danie*.

Danie. Heere fir,

Shal. *Danu*, *Danu*, *Danu*, let me see (*Danu*) let me see : William Cooke, bid him come hither. Sir *Iohn*, you shall not be excus'd.

Danu. Marry fir, thus : those Precepts cannot bee feru'd : and againe fir, shall we fowe the head-land with Wheate ?

Shal. With red Wheate *Danu*. But for William Cooke : are there no yong Pigeons ?

Danu. Yes Sir.

Heere is now the Smithes note, for Shooing,

And Plough-Irons.

Shal. Let it be caſt, and payde : Sir *Iohn*, you shall not be excus'd.

Danu. Sir, a new linke to the Bucket muſt needes bee had : And Sir, doe you meane to ſtoppe any of Williams Wages, about the Sacke he loft the other day, at Himekley Fayre ?

Shal. He shall anſwer it :

Some Pigeons *Danu*, a couple of ſhort-legg'd Hennes : a loynt of Mutton, and any pretty little tine Kickſhawes, tell William Cooke :

Danu. Doth the man of Warre, lay all night fir ?

Shal. Yes *Danu* :

I will vſe him well. A Friend i' th Court, is better then a penny in purſe. Vſe his men well *Danu*, for they are arrant Knaues, and will backe-bite.

Danu. No worſe then they are bitten. fir : For they haue a nouellous ſowle linnen.

Shallow. Well conceited *Danu* : about thy Busineſſe, *Danu*.

Danu. I beſeech you fir,

To countenance William Visor of Woncot, against Cleuament Perkes of the hill.

Shal. There are many Complaints *Danu*, against that Visor, that Visor is an arrant Knaue, on my knowledge.

Danu. I graunt your Worſhip, that he is a knaue Sir! But yet heauen forbid Sir, but a Knaue (should haue ſome Countenance; at his Friends requeſt.) An honest man fir, is able to ſpeake for himſelte, when a Knaue is not. I haue feru'd your Worſhippe truely fir, theſe eight yeares; and if I cannot once or twice in a Quarter beare out a knaue, against an honest man, I haue but a very little credite with your Worſhippe. The Knaue is mine honest Friend Sir, therefore I beſeech your Worſhip, let him bee Countenanc'd.

Shal. Go too,

I ſay he ſhall haue no wrong : Looke about *Dauy*.

Where are you Sir *Iohn* ? Come, off with your Boots.
Gie me your hand M. *Bardolfe*.

Bard. I am glad to ſee your Worſhip.

Shal. I thanke thee, with all my heart, kinde Maſter *Bardolſe*; and welcome my tall Fellow :

Come Sir *Iohn*.

Falſtaſſe. Ile follow you, good Maſter Robert Shallow, *Bardolſe*, looke to our Horſſes. If I were iaw'd into Quantities, I should make ſoure dozen of ſuch bearded Hermites ſtaues, as Maſter Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to ſee the ſemblable Coherence of his mens ſpirits, and his : They, by obferuing of him, do beare themſelues like foolish ſuſtices : Hee, by conuerſing with them, in turn'd into a ſuſtice-like ſeruingman. Their ſpirits are ſo married in Coniunction, with the participation of So ciety, that they ſlocke together in conſent, like to ma ny Wilde-Geefe. If I had a ſuite to Maſter Shallow, I would humouſr his men, with the imputation of beeing neere their Maſter. If to his Men, I would currie with Maſter Shallow, that no man could better command his ſeruants. It is certaine, that either wifc bearing, or ig norant Carriage is caught, as men take diſeales, one of another : therefore, let men take heede of their Compa nie. I will deuife matter enough out of this Shallow, to keepe Prince *Harry* in continuall Laughter, the wearing out of ſiſe Fashions (which is ſour Tearmes) or two Ac tions, and he ſhall laugh with *Interuallums*. O it is much that a Lye. (with a flight Oath) and a iſt (with a ſad brow) will doe, with a Fellow, that neuer had the Ache in his shoulders. O you ſhall ſee him laugh, till his Face be like a wet Cloake, ill laid vp.

Shal. Sir *Iohn*.

Falſ. I come Maſter Shallow, I come Maſter Shallow.

Exeunt

## Scena Secunda.

Enter the Earle of Warwickke, and the Lord Chieſe Inſtice.

Warwick. How now, my Lord Chieſe Inſtice, whether away ?

Ch. Inſt. How doth the King ?

Warw. Exceeding well his Cares, en his Cares, are now, all ended :

Ch. Inſt. I hope, not dead.

Warw. Hee's walk'd the way of Nature,

And to our purpofes, he lives no more.

Ch. Inſt. I would his Maiſely had call'd me with him, The ſeruice, that I truly did his life, Hath left me open to all injuries.

War.

97

War. Indeed I thinke the yong King loues you not.
Ch. Iuft. I know he doth not, and do arme my selfe
To welcome the condition of the Time,
Which cannot looke more hideoufly upon me,
Then I haue drawne it in my fantasie.

Enter John of Lancaster, Gloucester,
and Clarence.

War. Here come the heavy Iffue of dead Harrie:
O, that the liuing Harrie had the temper
Of him, the worft of thefe three Gentlemen:
How many Nobles then, should hold their places,
That muft strike faile, to Spirits of vilde fort?
Ch. Iuft. Alas, I feare, all will be ouer-turn'd.
John. Good morrow Cofin Warwick, good morrow,
Glen. Cla. Good morrow, Cofin.
John. We meet, like men, that had forgot to speake.
War. We do remember : but our Argument
Is all too heavy, to admit much talke.
John. Well: Peace be with him, that hath made vs heavy
Ch. Iuft. Peace be with vs, leaft we be heauier.
Glen. O, good my Lord, you haue left a friend indeed:
And I dare weare, you borrow not that face
Of feemingly forrow, it is fure your owne.

John. Though no man be aflur'd what grace to finde,
You land in coldeft expectation.
I am the forfierr, would I were otherwife.

Cla. Wel, you muft now speake Sir John Falstaffe faire,
which wimmes againft your streame of Quality.
Ch. Iuft. Sweet Princes: what I did, I did in Honor,
Led by the Imperiall Conduct of my Soule,
And neuer shall you fee, that I will begge
Aragged, and fore-stall'd Remission.

Sir, I amARE your Prince.

Enter Prince Henry.

Ch. Iuft. Good morrow; and heauen faue your Maiefty.
Prince. This new, and gorgeous Garment, Maiefty,
Sins not so caufe on me, as you thinke.

Brothers, you mixe our Sadneſſe with ſome Feare :

This is the English, not the Turkisł Court :

Not Amurah, an Amurah ſucceds,

But Harry, Harry : Yet be ſad (good Brothers)

For (to speake truth) it very well becomes you :

Borrow, so Royally in you appears,

That I will deeply put the Fathion on,

And weare it in my heart. Why then be ſad,

But entertaine no more of it (good Brothers)

Then aioynt burthen, laid upon vs all.

For me, by Heauen (I bid you be aſſur'd)

be your Father, and your Brother too :

Let me but beare your Loue, Ile beare your Cares ;

But weepeth that Horrie's dead, and ſo will I.

But Harry liues, that shall conuert thoſe Teares

By number, into hours of Happineſſe.

John. ſc. We hope no other from your Maieſty.

Prin. You all looke ſtrangely on me; and you moſt,

You are (I thinke) aſſur'd, I loue you not.

Ch. I am aſſur'd (if I be meaſur'd rightely)

Your Maieſty hath no iuſt cauſe to hate mee.

Pr. No? How might a Prince of my great hopes forget
so great Inglidignities you laid upon me?

What? Rate? Rebuke? and roughly ſend to Prisone
Th' immediate Heire of England? Was this cauſe?
May this be wath'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Iuſt. I then did vſe the Perſon of your Father :

The Image of his power, lay then in me,

And in th'adminitration of his Law,

Whiles I was buſie for the Commonwealth,

Your Highneſſe plearſed to forger my place,

The Maieſty, and power of Law, and Iuſtice,

The Image of the King, whom I prefented,

And ſtooke me in my very Seate of Iudgement at

Whereon (as an Offender to your Father) i

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 aweſull 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 cafe yours :

Be now the Father, and propofe a Sonne :

Heare your owne dignity so much prophan'd,

See your moſt deadſtfull Lawes, so loosely ſlighted?

Behold your ſelſe, so by a Sonne diſdained:

And then imagine me, taking you part,

And in your power, ſaſt 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.

Prin. You are right Iuſtice, and you weigh this well :

Therefore till beare the Ballance, and the Sword :

And I do wifh your Honors may enereafe,

Till you do liue, to ſee a Sonne of mine

Offend you, and obey you, as I did.

So ſhall I liue, to ſpeake my Father's words :

Happy am I, that haue a man so bold,

That dares do Iuſtice, on my proper Sonne ;

And no leſſe happy, hauing tuch a Sonne,

That would deliuer vp his Greatneſſe ſo,

Into the hands of Iuſtice. You did commit me :

For which, I do commit into your hand,

Th' uſtained Sword that you haue vs'd to beare a

With this Remembrance; That you vſe the fame

With the like bold, iuſt, and impartiall 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 eare,

And I will ſtoope, and humble my Intents,

To your well-practis'd, wife Directions.

And Princes all, beleeue me, I beſeech you :

My Father is gone wilde into his Graue,

(For in his Tombe, Iye my Affections)

And with his Spirits, fadly I ſuruive,

To mocke the expectation of the World ;

To fruſtrate Propheſies, and to race out

Rotten Opinion, who hath writ me downe

After my ſeeming. The Tide of Blood in me,

Hath powdly flow'd in Vanity, till now.

Now doth it turne, and ebbe backe to the Sea,

Where it ſhall mingle with the ſtate of Floods,

And flow henceforth in formall Maieſty.

Now call we our High Court of Parliament,

And let vs choose ſuch Limbes of Noble Counſaile,

That

That the great Body of our State may go
In equal ranke, with the beſt gouern'd Nation,
That Warre, or Peace, or both at once may be
As things acquainted and familiar to vs,
In which you (Father) ſhall haue ſormoft hand,
Our Coronation done, we will accite
(As I before remembred) all our State,
And heauen (conſigning to my good intents)
No Prince, nor Peere, ſhall haue ſuſt cauſe to ſay,
Heauen ſhorten Harries happy life, one day.
Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Falſtaffe, Shallow, Silence, Bardolſe,
Page, and Piftoll.

Shal. Nay, you shall fee mine Orchard: where, in an
Arbor we will eate a laſt yeares Pippin of my owne graſ-
fing, with a diſh of Carrawayes, and ſo forth (Come Co-
ſin Silence, and then to bed.

Fal. You haue heere a goodly dwelling, and a rich.

Shal. Barren, barren, barren: Beggers all, beggers all
Sir John: Marry, good ayre. Spread Danie, spread Danie:
Well faid, Danie.

Falſt. This Danie ſerues you for good vſes: he is your
Seruingman, and your Husband.

Shal. A good Varlet, a good Varlet, a very good Var-
let, Sir John: I haue drunke too much Sacke at Supper. A
good Varlet. Now ſit downe, now ſit downe : Come
Cofin.

Sil. Ah firra (quoth-a) we ſhall doe nothing but eate,
and make good cheere, and praisc heauen for the merrie
yeere: when fleſh is cheape, and Females deere, and luſtie
Lads rome heere, and there: ſo merrily, and euer among
ſo merrily.

Fal. There's a merry heart, good M. Silence, Ile giue
you a health for that anon.

Shal. Good M. Bardolſe: some wine, Danie.

Da. Sweet fir, ſit: Ile be with you anon: moſt Sweete
fir, ſit. Maſter Page, good M. Page, ſit: Proſace. What
you want in meate, wee'l haue in drinke: but you heare,
the heart's all.

Shal. Be merry M. Bardolſe, and my little Souldiour
there, be merry.

Sil. Be merry, be merry, my wife ha's all.
For women are Shrewes, both ſhort, and tall:
'Tis merry in Hall, when Beards wagge all;
And welcome merry Shrouetide. Be merry, be merry.

Fal. I did not thinke M. Silence had bin a man of this
Mettle.

Sil. Who I? I haue beene merry twice and once, ere
now.

Dan. There is a diſh of Lether-coats for you.

Shal. Danie.

Dan. Your Worſhip: Ile be with you ſtraight, A cup
of Wine, fir?

Sil. A Cup of Wine, that's briske and fine, & drinke
unto the Leman mine: and a merry heart liues long-a.

Fal. Well faid, M. Silence.

Sil. If we ſhall be merry, now comes in the SWEETE of
the night.

Fal. Health, and long life to you, M. Silence.

Sil. Fill the Cuppe, and let it come. Ile pledge you
mile to the bottome.

Shal. Honest Bardolſe, welcome: If thou want it, any
thing, and wilt not call, beſhrew thy heart. Welcome
my little tyne theſe, and welcome indeed too: Ile drinke to
M. Bardolſe, and to all the Cauileroes about London.

Dan. I hope to ſee London, once ere I die.

Bar. If I might ſee you there, Danie.

Shal. You! cracke a quart together? Ha, will you not
M. Bardolſe?

Bar. Yes Sir, in a pottle pot.

Shal. I thanke thee: the knaue will ſtcke by thee, I
can aſſure thee that. He will not out, he is true bred.

Bar. And Ile ſtcke by him, fir.

Shal. Why there ſpoke a King: lack nothing, be merry.
Looke, who's at doore there, ho: who knockes?

Fal. Why now you haue done me right.

Sil. Do me right, and dub me Knight, Samingo. I
not ſo?

Fal. 'Tis so.

Sil. Is't so? Why then ſay an old man can do well with me,
Dan. If it please your Worſhippe, there's one Piftall
come from the Court with newes.

Fal. From the Court? Let him come in.

Enter Piftoll.

How now Piftoll?

Pift. Sir John, I'aue you fir.

Fal. What winde blew you hither, Piftoll?

Pift. Not the ill winde which blowes none to good
ſweet Knight: Thou art now one of the greatest men in
the Realme.

Sil. Indeed, I thinke he bee, but Goodman Puffe of
Barfon.

Pift. Puffe? Puffe? in thy teeth, moſt recreant Coward
bafe. Sir John, I am thy Piftoll, and thy Friend: helter
skelter haue I rode to thee, and tydings do I bring, and
luckie ioyes, and golden Times, and happie Newes of
price.

Fal. I prethee now deliuer them, like a man of
World.

Pift. A footra for the World, and Worldlings bafe,
I ſpeake of Africa, and Golden ioyes.

Fal. O bafe Affyrian Knight, what is thy newes?

Let King Couitha know the truth thereof.

Sil. And Robin-hood, Scarlet, and Iohn.

Pift. Shall dunghill Curres confront the Hellicon?
And ſhall good newes be baffe'd?

Then Piftoll lay thy head in Furies lappe.

Shal. Honest Gentleman,
I know not your breeding.

Pift. Why then Lament therefore.

Fal. Giue me pardon, Sir.

If fir, you come with news from the Court, I take it, there
is but two wayes, either to venter them, or to concte
them. I am Sir, vnder the King, in some Authority.

Pift. Vnder which King?

Bezoniān, ſpeake, or dye.

Shal. Vnder King Harry.

Pift. Harry the Fourth? or Pift?

Shal. Harry the Fourth.

Pift. A footra for thine Office.

Sir John, thy tender Lamb-kinne, now is King,
Harry the Fift's the man, I ſpeake the truth.
When Piftoll lyes, do this, and figge-me, like
The bragging Spaniard.

99

Fal. What, is the old King dead?

Pist. As naile in doore.

The things I speake, are iust.

Fal. Away Bardolfe, Sadle my Horfe,

Master Robert Shallow, choose what thou wilt

In the Land, 'tis thine. *Pistol*, I will double charge thee
With Dignities.

Bard. O joyfull day:

I would not take a Knighthood for my Fortune.

Pist. What? I do bring good newes.

Fal. Carrie Mnfter *Silence* to bed: Master *Shallow*, my
Lord *Shallow*, be what thou wilt, I am Fortunes Steward.
Get on thy Boots, wee'l ride all night. Oh sweet Pistoll:
Away Bardolfe: Come Pistoll, vitter more to mee: and
withall deuife something to do thy selfe good. Boote,
boote Master *Shallow*, I know the young King is fick for
mee, Let vs take any mans Horffes: The Lawes of Eng-
land are at my command'ment. Happie are they, which
have beene my Friendes: and woe vnto my Lord Chiefe
Iustice.

Pist. Let Vultures vil'de seize on his Lungs also:
Where is the life that late I led, say they?

Why heere it is, welcome those pleasant dayes.

Exeunt

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Hofteffe Quickly, Dol Teare-Heete,
and Beadles.

Hoffe. No, thou arrant knaue: I would I might dy,
that I might haue thee hang'd : Thou haſt drawne my
houlder out of ioynt.

Off. The Conſtables haue deliuer'd her ouer to mee:
and ſhall haue Whipping cheere enough, I warrant
her. There hath beene a man or two (lately) kill'd about
her.

Dol. Nut-hooke, nut-hooke, you Lye: Come on, Ile
tell thee what, thou damn'd Tripe-viſag'd Raſcall, if the
Childe I now go with, do miſcarrie, thou had't better
thou had't ſtrooke thy Mother, thou Paper-fac'd Vil-
laine.

Hoff. O that Sir *Iohn* were come, hee would make
this a bloody day to some body. But I would the Fruite
of her Wombe might miſcarry.

Officer. If it do, you ſhall haue a dozen of Cuffions
againe, you haue but eleuen now. Come, I charge you
both go with me: for the man is dead, that you and Pi-
ſtoll beate among you.

Dol. Ile tell thee what, thou thin man in a Cenfor; I
will haue you as foundly ſwing'd for this, you blew-
Bottel'd Rogue: you filthy famiſh'd Correſtioner, if you
be not ſwing'd, Ile forſweare halfe Kirtles.

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

Hoff. O, that right should thus o'recome might. Wel
of ſufferance, comes eafe.

Dol. Come you Rogue, come :

Bring me to a Iustice.

Hoff. Yes, come you ſtaru'd Blood-hound. ?

Dol. Goodman death, goodman Bones.

Hoff. Thou Anatomy, thou.

Dol. Come you thinne Thing :

Come you Raſcall.

Off. Very well.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter two Groomes. A

1. Groo. More Ruffes, more Ruffes.

2. Groo. The Trumpets haue founded twice.

1. Groo. It will be two of the Clocke, ere they come
from the Coronation.

Exit Groo.

Enter Falſtaffe, Shallow, Pifſoll, Bardolſe, and Page.

Falſtaffe. Stand heere by me, M. Robert Shallow, I will
make the King do you Grace. I will leere vpon him, as
he comes by: and do but marke the countenance that hee
will giue me.

Pifſol. Blesſe thy Lungs, good Knight.

Falſe. Come heere Pifſol, I stand behind me. O if I had
had time to haue made new Liueries, I would haue be-
flowed the thouand pound I borrowed of you. But it is
bo matter, this poore ſhew doth better: this doth inferre
the zeale I had to ſee him.

Shal. It doth ſo.

Falſt. It ſhewes my carneſtneſſe in affectation.

Pist. It doth ſo.

Fal. My deuotion.

Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth.

Fal. As it were, to ride day and night,
And not to deliberate, not to remember,
Not to haue patience to ſhift me.

Shal. It is moſt certaine.

Fal. But to ſtand ſtained with Trauaile, and ſweating
with deſire to ſee him, thinking of nothing eſſe, putting
all affayres in obliuion, as if there were nothing els to be
done, but to ſee him.

Pist. 'Tis ſemper idem: for obſque hoc nihil eſt. 'Tis all
in euery part.

Shal. 'Tis ſo indeed.

Pist. My Knight, I will enſame thy Noble Liuer, and
make thee rage. Thy Dol, and Helen of thy noble thoughts,
is in bafe Durance, and contagious prifon: a Hall'd thi-
ther by moſt Mechanicall and durty hand. Rowze vppe
Reuenge from Ebon den, with ſell Aleſto's Snake, for
Dol is in. Pifſol, ſpeakes nought but troth.

Fal. I will deliuer her.

Pifſol. There roar'd the Sea: and Trumpet Clangour
found's.

The Trumpets found. Enter King Henrie the
Fist, Brothers, Lord Chieſe
Inſtice.

Falſt. Saue thy Grace, King Hall, my Royall Hall.

Pist. The heauens thee guard, and keepe, moſt royall
Impe of Fame.

Fal. 'Saue thee my ſweet Boy.

King. My Lord Chieſe Iustice, ſpeake to that vaine
man.

Ch. Iust. Haue you your wits ?

Know you what 'tis you ſpeake ?

Falſt. My King, my Ioue; I ſpeake to thee, my heart.

King. I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy Prayers :
How ill white haires become a Foole, and Iefter?

I haue

100

I haue long dream'd of such a kinde of man,
So surfeit-Iwell'd, so old, and so prophane:
But being awake, I do despife my dreame.
Make lesse 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,
Prelume not, that I am the thing I was,
For heauen doth know (so shall the world perceiue)
That I haue turn'd away my former Selfe,
So will I those that kept me Companie.
When thou doft heare I am, as I haue bin,
Approach me, and thou shall be as thou was't
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 neere our Person, by ten mile.
For competence of life, I will allow you,
That lacke of meanes enforce you not to cuill:
And as we heare you do reforme your selues,
We will according to your strength, and qualities,
Give you aduancement. Be it your charge (my Lord)
To fee perform'd the tenure of our word. Set on.
Exit King.

Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.

Shal. I marry Sir John, which I befeech you to let me haue home with me.

Fal. That can hardly be, M. Shallow, do not you grieve at this : I shall be sent for in priuate to him: Looke you, he muſt ſeeme thus to the world: ſeare not your aduancement : I will be the man yet, that ſhall make you great.

Shal. I cannot well perceiue how, vnleſſe you ſhould giue me your Doublet, and ſtuffe me out with Straw. I beſeech you, good Sir John, let mee haue ſiue hundred of my thousand.

Fal. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you heard, was but a colour.

Shall. A colour I ſeare, that you will dye, in Sir John.

Fal. Feare no colours, go with me to dinner:
Come Lieutenant Pislal, come Bardolſe,
I shall be ſent for ſoone at night.

Ch. Iuſt. Go carry Sir John Falſaffe to the Fleete,
Take all his Company along with him.

Fal. My Lord, my Lord.

Ch. Iuſt. I cannot now ſpeake, I will heare you ſoon:
Take them away.

Pisl. Sifortuna me tormento, ſpera me contenta.

Exit. Manet Lancaſter and Chieſe Iuſt.

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 banifht, till their converſations

Appeare more wife, and modelſt to the world.

Ch. Iuſt. And ſo they are.

John. The King hath call'd his Parliament,
My Lord.

Ch. Iuſt. He hath.

John. I will lay oddes, that ere this yeere expire,
We beare our Ciuill Swords, and Native fire
As farre as France. I heare a Bird ſo ſing,

Whole Musiſke (to my thinking) pleas'd the King.

Come, will you hence ?

Exeunt

FINIS.

EPILOGUE.

FIRST, my Feare: then, my Curtſie: last, my Speech.
My Feare, is your Displeasure: My Curtſie, my Dutie:
And my Speech, to Begge your Pardons. If you looke for a
good Speech now, you undoe me: For what I haue to ſay, is
of mine owne making: and what (indeed) I should ſay, will
(I doubt) prooue mine owne marring. But to the Purpose,
and so to the Venture. Be it knowne to you (as it is very
well) I was lately heere in the end of a displeaſing Play, to pray your Patience
for it, and to promise you a Better: I did meane (indeede) to pay you with this,
which if (like an ill Venture) it come unluckily home, I breake; and you, my gen-
tle Creditors lose. Heere I promiſt you I would be, and heere I commit my Bodie
to your Mercies: Bate me ſome, and I will pay you ſome, and (as moſt Debtors do)
promise you infinitely.

If my Tongue cannot entreate you to acquit me: Will you command me to use
my Legges? And yet that were but light payment, to Dance out of your debt: But
a good Conſcience, will make any poſſible ſatisfaction, and so will I. All the Gen-
tlewomen heere, haue forgiuen me, if the Gentlemen will not, then the Gentlemen
do not agree with the Gentlewomen, which was neuer ſeene before, in such an Af-
ſembly.

One word more, I beſeech you: if you be not too much cloid with Fat Meate,
our humble Author will continue the Story (with Sir Iohn in it) and make you
merry, with faire Katherine of France: Where (for any thing I know) Fal-
ſtaſſe ſhall dye of a ſweat, unless already he be kill'd with your hard Opinions:
For Old-Caſtle dyed a Martyr, and this is not the man. My Tongue is wearie,
when my Legs are too, I will bid you good night; and so kneele downe before you:
But (indeed) to pray for the Queene.

69

# The Life of Henry the Fift.

## Enter Prologue.

For a Muse of Fire, that would ascend
The brightest Heaven of Invention :
A Kingdome for a Stage, Princes to Act,
And Monarchs to behold the swelling Scene.
Then should the Warlike Harry, like himselfe,
Asume the Part of Mars, and at his heeles
Lie in, like Hounds) should Famine, Sword, and Fire
Crash for employment. But pardon, Gentles all:
The flat unass'd Spirits, that hath dar'd,
On his unworthy Scaffold, to bring forth
Great an Obieft. Can this Cock-Pit hold
The vulture fields of France? Or may we cramme
Within this Woodden O, the very Cashes
That did afford the Ayre at Agincourt ?
O pardon: since a crooked Figure may
dueth in little place a Million,
And let vs, Cyphers to this great Accompt,

On your imaginarie Forces workes,
Suppose within the Girdle of these Walls
Are now confin'd two mightie Monarchies,
Whose high, vp-reared, and abutting Fronts,
The perilous narrow Ocean parts afunder.
Peace out our imperfections with your thoughts :
Into a thousand parts diuide one Man,
And make imaginarie Puiſance.
Thinke when we talke of Horses, that you see them,
Printing their prowd Hoofes i'th' receiuing Earth:
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our Kings,
Carry them here and there: Jumping o're Times;
Turning th' accomplishment of many yeeres
Into an Howre-glasse: for the which ſupplie,
Admit me Chorus to this Historie;
Who Prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
Gently to heare, kindly to iudge our Play.

Exit.

## Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter the two Bishops of Canterbury and Ely.

Bisb. Cant.

Y Lord, Ile tell you, that ſelfe Bill is vrg'd,
Which in th'eleuſh yere of ſy laſt Kings reign
Was like, and had indeed againſt vs paſt,
But that the ſcambling and vnquiet time
Did pufh it out of farther queſtion.

Bisb. Ely. But how my Lord ſhall we refiſt it now?

Bisb. Cant. It must be thought on: if it paffe againſt vs,
We looke the better halfe of our Poffeffion :

For all the Temporall Lands, which men deutout
By Testament haue giuen to the Church,

Would they ſtrip from vs; being valu'd thus,
As much as would maintaine, to the Kings honor,
Full fifteenth Earles, and fifteenth hundred Knights,
Six thousand and two hundred good Esquires :

And to reliefe of Lazars, and weake age
Of indigent faint Soules, paſt corporall toyle,

A hundred Almes-houſes, right well ſupply'd :
And to the Coffers of the King beſide,

A thousand pounds by th'yeere. Thus runs the Bill.

Bisb. Ely. This would drinke deepe.

Bisb. Cant. I would drinke the Cup and all.

Bisb. Ely. But what preuention?

Bisb. Cant. The King is full of grace, and faire re-
gard.

Bisb. Ely. And a true louer of the holy Church.

Bisb. Cant. The courſes of his youth promis'd it not.

The breath no sooner left his Fathers body,
But that his wildneſſe, mortify'd in him,
Seem'd to dye too: yea, at that very moment,
Confideration like an Angell came,

And whipt th'offending Adam out of him;
Leauing his body as a Paradife,

T'inuelop and containe Celestiall Spirits.

Neuer was ſuch a ſodaine Scholler made:

Neuer came Reformation in a Flood,
With ſuch a heady currance ſcowing faults:

Nor neuer Hidra-headed Wilfulneſſe
So ſoone did loose his Seat; and all at once;
As in this King.

Bisb. Ely: We are bleſſed in the Change.

Bisb. Cant. Heare him but reaſon in Diuinitie:

And all-admiring, with an inward with
You would define the King were made a Prelate:

Heare him debate of Common-wealth Aſfaireſ;
You would ſay, it hath been all in all his ſtudy:

Lift his diſcourse of Warre; and you ſhall heare
A fearefull Battaile rendred you in Muſique.

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71

Of Charles the Duke of Loraine, sole Heire male,
Of the true Line and Stock of Charles the Great:
To find his Title with some fewes of truth,
Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught,
Coney'd himselfe as th' Heire to th' Lady Lingare,
Daughter to Charlemaine, who was the Sonne
To Lewes the Emperour, and Lewes the Sonne
Of Charles the Great: also King Lewes the Tenth,
Who was sole Heire to the Vsurper Caper,
Could not keepe quiet in his conscience,
Wearing the Crowne of France, 'till satisfied,
That faire Queene Isabel, his Grandmother,
Was Lineall of the Lady Ermengare,
Daughter to Charles the forefaid Duke of Loraine:
By the which Marriage, the Lyne of Charles the Great
Was re-vnited to the Crowne of France.
So, that as cleare as is the Summers Sunne,
King Perins Title, and Hugh Capets Clayme,
King Lewes his satisfaction, all appeare
To hold in Right and Title of the Female:
So doe the Kings of France vnto this day.
Howber, they would hold vp this Salique Law,
To barre your Highneſſe clayming from the Female,
And rather chufe to hide them in a Net,
Then amply to imbarre their crooked Titles,
Vیرuit from you and your Progenitors.

Kng May I with right and conscience make this claim?
Ely.Cant. The finne vpon my head, dread Soueraigne:
For in the Booke of Numbers is it writ,
When the man dyes, let the Inheritance
Defend vnto the Daughter. Gracious Lord,
Stand for your owne, vnwind your bloody Flagge,
Looke back into your mightie Anceftors:
Goe my dread Lord, to your great Grandfires Tombe,
From whom you clayme; inuoke his Warlike Spirit,
And your Great Vnckles, Edward the Black Prince,
Who on the French ground play'd a Tragedie,
Making defeat on the full Power of France:
Whiles his moſt mightie Father on a Hill
Stood smiling, to behold his Lyons Whelpe
Farrage in blood of French Nobilitie.
O Noble English, that could entertaine
With halfe their Forces, the full pride of France,
And let another halfe stand laughing by,
All out of worke, and cold for action.

Bab. Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
And with your puiffant Arme renew their Feats;
You are their Heire, you fit vpon their THRONE:
The Blood and Courage that renowned them,
Pans in your Veines: and my thrice-puiffant Liege
Is in the very May-Morne of his Youth,
Ripe for Exploits and mightie Enterprifes.

Exs. Your Brother Kings and Monarchs of the Earth
Doe all expect, that you should rowle your ſelfe,
As did the former Lyons of your Blood. (might;
who? They know your Grace hath cauſe, and means, and
So hath your Highneſſe: neuer King of England
Had Nobles richer, and more loyall Subiects,
Whole hearts have left their bodies here in England,
And Iye pauillion'd in the fields of France.
Bb.Cant. O let their bodyes follow my deare Liege
With Bloods, and Sword and Fire, to win your Right:
In ayde whereof, we of the Spiritualtie
Will rayle your Highneſſe ſuch a mightie Summe,
As neuer did the Clergie at one time
Bring in to any of your Anceftors.

King. We muſt not onely arme t'inuade the French,
But lay downe our proportions, to defend
Against the Scot, who will make roade vpon vs,
With all aduantages.

Bisb. Can. They of thofe Marches, gracious Soueraigen,
Shall be a Wall ſufficient to defend
Our in-land from the pilfering Borderers.

King. We do not meane the courſing ſnatchers onely,
But feare the maine intendment of the Scot,
Who hath been ſtill a giddy neighbour to vs:
For you ſhall reade, that my great Grandfather
Neuer went with his forces into France,
But that the Scot, on his vnfurniſht Kingdome,
Came pouring like the Tyde into a breach,
With ample and brim fulneſſe of his force,
Galling the gleaned Land with hot Affayes,
Girding with grieuous ſiege, Caſtles and Townes:
That England being empty of defence,
Hath ſhooke and trembled at th'ill neighbourhood,
Bcav. She hath bin th' more fear'd the harm'd, my Liege:
For heare her but exampl'd by her ſelfe,
When all her Cheualrie hath been in France,
And ſhee a mourning Widdow of her Nobles,
Shee hath her ſelfe not onely well defended,
But taken and impounded as a Stray,

The King of Scots: whom ſhee did ſend to France,
To fill King Edwards fame with prifoner Kings,
And make their Chronicle as rich with prayſe,
As is the Owſe and bottome of the Sea
With ſunken Wrack, and ſum-leſſe Treasuries.

Bib. Ely. But there's a faying very old and true,
If that you will France wu, then with Scotland firſt begiſa.
For once the Eagle (England) being in prey,
To her vnguarded Neſt, the Weazell (Scot)
Comes ſneaking, and ſo ſucks her Princely Egges,
Playing the Mouſe in abſence of the Cat,
To tame and haucke more then he can eate.

Exet. It followes theu, the Cat muſt ſlay at home,
Yet that is but a cruſh'd neceſſity,
Since we haue lockes to ſafegard neceſſaries,
And pretty traps to catch the petty theeuces.
While that the Armed hand doth fight abroad,
Th'aduſed head defends it ſelfe at home:
For Gouernment, though high, and low, and lower,
Put into parts, doth keepe in one conſent,
Congreeing in a full and natural cloſe,
Like Musiſcke.

Cant. Therefore doth heauen diuide
The ſtate of man in diuers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion:
To which is fixed as an ayme or butt,
Obedience: for so worke the Hony Bees,
Creatures that by a rule in Nature teach
The Act of Order to a peopled Kingdome.
They have a King, and Officers of forts,
Where ſome like Magiſtrates correct at home:
Others, like Merchants venter Trade abroad:
Others, like Souldiers armed in their ſlings,
Make boote vpon the Summers Velvet buddes:
Which pillage, they with merry march bring home:
To the Tent-royal of their Emperor :
Who buſed in his Maietie ſurueyes
The ſinging Mafons building rooftes of Gold,
The civil Citizens kneading vp the hony;
The poore Mechanicke Porters, crowding in
Their heauy burthens at his narrow gate:

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The sad-cy'd Iustice with his furly humme,
Deliuering ore to Executors pale
The lazie yawning Drone: I this inferre,
That many things hauing full reference
To one content, may worke contrariouſly,
As many Arrowes loofed feueral wayes
Come to one marke: as many wayes meet in one towne,
As many fresh ſtreames meet in one salt ſea ;
As many Lynes cloſe in the Dials center :
So may a thouſand actions once a foote,
And in one purpofe, and be all well borne
Without defeat. Therefore to France, my Liege,
Diuide your happy England into ſoure,
Whereof, take you one quarter into France,
And you withall ſhall make all Gallia ſhake.
If we with thrice ſuch powers left at home,
Cannot defend our owne doores from the dogge,
Let vs be worried, and our Nation loſe
The name of hardineſſe and policie.

**King.** Call in the Meſſengers ſent from the Dolphin.
Now are we well refolu'd, and by Gods helpe
And yours, the noble finewes of our power,
France being ours, weel bend it to our Awe,
Or breake it all to peeces. Or there weel ſit,
(Ruling in large and ample Emperie,
Ore France, and all her (almost) Kingly Dukedomes)
Or lay theſe bones in an vnworthy Vrne,
Tombleſe, with no remembrance ouer them :
Either our Hiftory ſhall with full mouth
Speake freely of our Adts, or elſe our graue
Like Turkisſh mute, ſhall haue a tongueleſſe mouth,
Not worſcript with a waxen Epitaph.

**Enter Ambassadors of France.**

Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleafure
Of our faire Cofin Dolphin : for we heare,
Your greeting is from him, not from the King.

**Amb.** May't please your Maieſtie to giue vs leaue
Freely to render what we haue in charge:
Or ſhall we ſparingly ſhew you farre off
The Dolphins meauing, and our Embaſſe.

**King.** We are no Tyrant, but a Christian King,
Vnto whose grace our pafſion is as ſubieſt
As is our wretches ſettred in our prifons,
Therefore with franke and with vncurbed plainneſſe,
Tell vs the *Dolphins* minde.

**Amb.** Thus than in few :
Your Highneſſe lately ſending into France,
Did claime ſome certaine Dukedomes, in the right
Of your great Predecessor, King Edward the third.
In auſwer of which claime, the Prince our Maſter
Sayes, that you ſauour too much of your youth,
And bids you be aduis'd: There's nought in France,
That can be with a nimble Galliard wonne :
You cannot reuell into Dukedomes there.
He therefore ſends you meeter for your ſpirit
This Tun of Treſure; and in lieu of this,
Defires you let the dukedomes that you claime
Heare no more of you. This the *Dolphin* ſpeakes.

**King.** What Treſure Vncle ?

**Exe.** Tennis balles, my Liege.

**Kin.** We are glad the *Dolphin* is ſo pleafant with vs,
His Prefent, and your paines we thanke you for:
When we haue matcht our Rackers to theſe Balles,
We will in France (by Gods grace) play a ſet,
Shall ſtrike his fathers Crowne into the hazard.

Tell him, he hath made a match with ſuch a Wrangler,

That all the Courts of France will be diſturb'd
With Chaces. And we vnderſtand him well,
How he comes o're vs with our wilder dayes,
Not meaſuring what ſie we made of them.
We neuer valew'd this poore ſeate of England,
And therefore liuing hence, did giue our ſelfe
To barbarous licenſe: As 'tis cuer common,
That men are merriefft, when they are from home.
But tell the *Dolphin*, I will keepe my State,
Be like a King, and ſhew my ſayle of Greaceneſſe,
When I do rowſe me in my THRONE of France.
For that I haue layd by my Maieſtie,
And plodded like a man for working dayes :
But I will riſe there with ſo full a glorie,
That I will dazle all the eyes of France,
Yea ſtrike the *Dolphin* blinde to looke on vs,
And tell the pleafant Prince, this Mocke of his
Hath turn'd his balles to Gun-stones, and his ſoule
Shall ſtand ſore charged, for the waſtefull vengeance
That ſhall flye with them: for many a thouſand widow
Shall this his Mocke, mocke out of their deer husband:
Mocke mothers from their ſonnes, mocke Caſſes downe:
And ſome are yet vngoneſt and vnborne,
That ſhal haue cauſe to curſe the *Dolphins* ſcorne,
But this lyes all within the wil of God,
To whom I do appeale, and in whose name
Tel you the *Dolphin*, I am comming on,
To venge me as I may, and to put forth
My rightfull hand in a wel-hallow'd cauſe,
So get you hence in peace: And tell the *Dolphin*,
His Ieſt will ſauour but of ſhallow wit,
When thouſands weepe more then did laugh at it.
Convey them with ſafe conduſt. Fare you well,

**Exeunt Ambassadors.**

**Exe.** This was a merry Meſſage.

**King.** We hope to make the Sender bluſh at it:
Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy howre,
That may giue furth'rance to our Expedition:
For we haue now no thought in vs but France,
Saue thofe to God, that runne before our buſineſſe.
Therefore let our proportions for theſe Warres
Be ſoone collected, and all things thought vpon,
That may with reaſonable ſwiftneſſe adde
More Feathers to our Wings: for God before,
Wee'le chide this *Dolphin* at his fathers doore.
Therefore let euery man now taske his thought,
That this faire Action may on foot be brought.

**Exeunt**

**Flourish.** Enter Chorus.

Now all the Youth of England are on ſire,
And ſilken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lyes :
Now thriue the Armorsers, and Honors thought
Reignes ſolely in the breaſt of euery man.
They ſell the Paſture now, to buy the Horſes:
Following the Mirror of all Christian Kings,
With winged heeles, as English *Mercuries*.
For now ſits Expectation in the Ayre,
And hides a Sword, from Hilts vnto the Point,
With Crownes Imperiall, Crownes and Coronets,
Promis'd to Harry, and his followers.

The French aduis'd by good intelligence
Of this moſt dreadfull preparation,
Shake in their ſeare, and with pale Polliſy
Seeke to diuert the English purpofes.
O England: Modell to thy inward Greatneſſe,
Like little Body with a mightie Heart:

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The Life of Henry the Fift.

73

What mightest thou do, that honour would thee do,
Were all thy children kinde and naturall :
But fee, thy fault France hath in thee found out,
A neft of hollow bosomes, which he filles
A neft of treacherous Crownes, and three corrupted men:
With Richard Earle of Cambridge, and the second
One, Richard Lord Scroope of Masbam, and the third
Henry Grey Knight of Northumberland,
Sic Thomas Grey, and in thy hatefull Lungs, yea in thy Maw
Hate for the Gilt of France (O guilt indeed)
Confir'd Conspiration with fearefull France,
And by their hands, this grace of Kings muft dye.
If Heel and Treason hold their promises,
Ere they take ship for France; and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on, and weel digest
This tabule of distance; force a play :
The fomme is payde, the Traitors are agreed,
The King is ſet from London, and the Scene
There is the Play-houſe now, there muſt you fit,
And thence to France ſhall we conuey you ſafe,
And bring you backe: Charming the narrow feas
To give you gentle Paffe: for if we may,
Wee not offend one ſtomacke with our Play.
But till the King come forth, and not till then,
Vnto Southampton do we shift our Scene.

Exit

Enter Corporall Nym, and Lieutenant Bardolfe.

Bar. Well met Corporall Nym.

Nym. Good morrow Lieutenant Bardolſe.

Bar. What, are Ancient Piftoll and your friends yet?

Nym. Formy part, I care not: I ſay little: but when
time shall ferue, there ſhall be smiles, but that ſhall be as
it may. I dare not fight, but I will winke and holde out
mine yron: it is a ſimple one, but what though? It will
ſotie Cheefe, and it will endure cold, as another mans
ſword will: and there's an end.

Bar. I will beſtow a breakſaſt to make you friendes,
and weel bee all three ſworne brothers to France: Let's
be ſo good Corporall Nym.

Nym. Faith, I will liue ſo long as I may, that's the cer-
tine of it: and when I cannot liue any longer, I will doe
as I may: That is my reſt, that is the rendeuous of it.

Bar. It is certaine Corporall, that he is married to
Nel Quickey, and certainly ſhe did you wrong, for you
were troth-plight to her.

Nym. I cannot tell, Things muſt be as they may: men
may ſleep, and they may haue their throats about them
at that time, and ſome ſay, kniues haue edges: It muſt
be as it may, though patience be a tyred name, yet ſhee
will plodde, there muſt be Conſulations, well, I cannot
tell.

Enter Piftoll, & Quickey.

Bar. Heere comes Ancient Piftoll and his wife: good
Corporall be patient here. How now mine Hoaſte Pi-
ſoll?

Pift. Bafe Tyke, calſt thou mee Hofte, now by this
hand I ſwore I ſcorne the terme: nor ſhall my Nel keep
Lodgers.

Hoft. No by my troth, not long: For we cannot lodge
and board a dozen or fourſeene Gentlewomen that lue
hонely by the pricke of their Needles, but it will bee
thought we keepe a Bawdy-house ſtraight. O welliday
Lady, if he be not hewne now, we shall ſee wilful adulte-
ty and murther committed.

Bar. Good Lieutenant, good Corporal offer nothing
there.

Nym. Pish.

Pift. Pish for thee, Inſland dogge: thou prickeard cur
of Inſland.

Hoft. Good Corporall Nym ſhew thy valor, and put
vp your ſword.

Nym. Will you ſhogge off? I would haue you ſolus.

Pift. Solus, egregious dog? O Viper vile; The ſolus
in thy moſt meruailous face, the ſolus in thy teeth, and
in thy throate, and in thy hatefull Lungs, yea in thy Maw
perdy; and which is worſe, within thy naſtie mouth. I
do reſort the ſolus in thy bowels, for I can take, and Pi-
ſoſls cocke is vp, and flashing fire will follow.

Nym. I am not Barbaſon, you cannot coniure mee: I
haue an humor to knocke you indifferently well: If you
grow ſowle with me Piftoll, I will ſcoure you with my
Rapier, as I may, in ſayre tearmes. If you would walke
off, I would pricke your guts a little in good tearmes, as
I may, and that's the humor of it.

Pift. O Braggard vile, and damned furious wight,
The Graue doth gape, and doting death is neere,
Therefore exhale.

Bar. Heare me, heare me what I ſay: Hee that ſtrikes
the firſt ſtoake, Ile run him vp to the hilts, as I am a fol-
dier.

Pift. An oath of mickle might, and fury ſhall abate.
Gie me thy firſt, thy fore-foote to me giue: Thy ſpirites
are moſt tall.

Nym. I will cut thy throate one time or other in faire
termes, that is the humor of it.

Piftoll. Couple a gorge, that is the word. I defie the ea-
gaine. O hound of Creet, think't thou my ſpouſe to get?
No, to the spittle goe, and from the Poudring tub of in-
famy, fetch forth the Lazar Kite of Crefrids kinde, Doll
Teare-sheete, ſhe by rame, and her eſpoute. I haue, and I
will hold the Quondam Quickey for the onely ſhee: and
Paanca, there's enough to go to.

Enter the Boy.

Boy. Mine Hoaſt Piftoll, you muſt come to my May-
ſter, and your Hoſſeſſe: He is very ſicke, & would to bed.
Good Bardolſe, put thy face betweene his ſheets, and do
the Office of a Warming-pan: Faith, he's very ill.

Bard. Away you Rogue.

Hoft. By my troth he'l yeeld the Crow a pudding one
of theſe dayes: the King has kild his heart. Good Huf-
band come home prefently.

Exit

Bar. Come, ſhall I make you two friends. Wee muſt
to France together: why the diuel should we keep kniues
to cut one an others throats?

Pift. Let floods ore-ſwell, and fiends for food howle
on.

Nym. You! pay me the eight ſhillings I won of you
at Betting?

Pift. Bafe is the Slaue that payes.

Nym. That now I wil haue: that's the humor of it.

Pift. As manhood ſhal compound: pufh home. Draw

Bard. By this ſword, hee that makes the firſt thruff,
Ile kill him: By this ſword, I wil.

Pi. Sword is an Oath, & Oaths muſt haue their courſe
Bar. Coporall Nym, & thou wilt be friends be friends,
and thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me to: pre-
thee put vp.

Pift. A Noble ſhalt thou haue, and preſent pay, and
Liquor likewise will I giue to thee, and friendſhippe
ſhall combyne, and brotherhood. Ile line by Nymme, &
Nymme ſhall liue by me, is not this iuſt? For I ſhal Sut-
ler be vnto the Campe, and profits will accrue. Giue mee
thy hand.

h3

Nym.

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

74

Nym. I shall haue my Noble?

Pift. In cash, most iustly payd.

Nym. Well, then that the humor of't.

Enter Haffesse.

Hoff. As euer you come of women, come in quickly to fir John : A poore heart, hce is so fak'd of a burning quotidian Tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

Nym. The King hath run bad humors on the Knight, that's the euen of it.

Pift. Nym, thou haft spoke the right, his heart is frasted and corroborate.

Nym. The King is a good King, but it must bee as it may : he paffes some humors, and carreeres.

Pift. Let vs condole the Knight, for (Lambekins) we will liue.

Enter Exeter, Bedford, & Westmerland.

Bed. Fore God his Grace is bold to truft these traitors

Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by.

Well. How smooth and euen they do bear themselves, As if all allegiance in their bosomes fate Crowned with faith, and conftant loyalty.

Bed. The King hath note of all that they intend, By interception, which they dreame not of.

Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious fauours; That he should for a forraigne purfe, so fell His Soueraignes life to death and treachery.

Sound Trumpets.

Enter the King, Scroope, Cambridge, and Gray.

King. Now fits the winde faire, and we will aboord. My Lord of Cambridge, and my kinde Lord of Mafham, And you my gentle Knight, giue me your thoughts: Thinke you not that the powres we beare with vs Will cut their paſſage through the force of France?

Doing the execution, and the acte,

For which we haue in head affembled them.

Sero. No doubt my Liege, if each man do his beſt.

King. I doubt not that, ſince we are well perſwaded We carry not a heart with vs from hence, That growes not in a faire conſent with ours: Nor leaue not one behinde, that doth not wiſh

Succeſſe and Conqueſt to attend on vs.

Cam. Neuer was Monarch better fear'd and lou'd, Then is your Maiefy; there's not I thinke a ſubieſt

That fits in heart: greeſe and vneafineſſe.

Vnder the sweet ſhade of your government.

Kni. True: thate that were your Fathers enemies, Hauë ſleep'd their gauls in hony, and do ſerue you With hearts create of duty, and of zeale.

King. We therefore haue great cauſe of thankfulness, And shall forget the office of our hand.

Sooner then quittance of desart and merit, According to the weight and worthineſſe.

Sero. So ſeruice ſhall with ſteeled finewes toyle, And labour ſhall refresh it ſelſe with hope. To do your Grace inſeſſant ſeruices.

King. We judge no leſſe, Vnkle of Exeter, In large the man committed yefterday,

That rayl'd againſt our perſon: We confider It was exceſſe of Wine that fet him on, And on his more aduice, We pardon him.

Sero. That's mercry, but too much ſecurity: Let him be puniſh'd Soueraigne, leaſt example Breed (by his ſufferance) more of ſuch a kind.

King. O let vs yet be merciſull.

Cam. So may your Highneſſe, and yet puniſh too.

Grey. Sir, you ſhew great mercry if you giue him life, After the taſle of much correction.

King. Alas, your too much loue and care of me, Are heavy Orions' gainſt this poore wretch: If little faults proceeding on diſtemper,

Shall not be wink'd at, how ſhall we stretch our eye When capitall crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digelſed, Appeare before vs? Wee'l yet in large that man, Though Cambridge, Scroope, and Gray, in their deere care And tender preferuſation of our perſon

Wold haue him puniſh'd. And now to our French cauſes, Who are the late Commissioners ?

Cam. I one my Lord,

Your Highneſſe bad me aske for it to day.

Sero. So did you me my Liege.

Gray. And I my Royall Soueraigne,

King. Then Richard Earle of Cambridge, there is yours: There yours Lord Scroope of Mafham, and Sir Knight: Gray of Northumberland, this fame is yours:

Reade them, and know you know your worthineſſe.

My Lord of Westmerland, and Vnkle Exeter,

We will aboord to night. Why how now Gentlemen?

What fee you in thate papers, that you loueſe

So much complexion? Looke ye how they change: Their cheekes are paper. Why, what reade you there, That haue ſo cowarded and chac'd your blood Out of appaasture.

Cam. I do conſeſſe my fault,

And do submit me to your Highneſſe mercry,

Gray. Sero. To which we all appeale.

King. The mercry that was quicke in vs but late, By your owne counſaile is ſuppreſt and kill'd:

You muſt not dare (for ſhame) to talke of mercry,

For your owne reaſons turne into your bosomes,

As dogs upon their maſters, worrying you:

See you my Princes, and my Noble Peeres,

These English monſters: My Lord of Cambridge here,

You know how apt our loue was, to accord

To furniſh with all appertinents

Belonging to his Honour; and this man,

Hath for a few light Crownes, lightly confip'd

And ſworne vnto the praeſtises of France

To kill vs heere in Hampton. To the which,

This Knight no leſſe for bounty bound to Vs

Then Cambridge is, hath likewise ſworne. But O,

What ſhall I ſay to thee Lord Scroope, thou cruell,

Ingratefull, ſauage, and inhumane Creaſure?

Thou that didſt beare the key of all my counſailes,

That knewſt the very botteme of my ſoule,

That (almost) might ſt haue coyn'd me into Golde,

Would ſt thou haue praeſi'd on me, for thy vie?

May it be poffible, that forraigne hyer

Could out of thee extraet one Iparke of euill

That might annoy my finger ? 'Tis ſo ſtrange,

That though the truth of it stands off as grosse

As blacke and white, my eye will ſcarſely ſee it.

Treaſon, and murther, euer kept together,

As two yoake diuels ſworne to eythers purpose,

Working ſo groſſely in an naturall cauſe,

That admiration did not hoope at them.

But thou (gainſt all proportion) didſt bring in

Wonder to waite on Treaſon, and on murther :

And what euuer cunning fiend it was

That wrought upon thee so preſterouſly,

Hath got the voyce in hell for excellence:

And

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

75

And other duels that fuggeſt by treaſons,
Do bothc and bungle vp damnation;
With patches, colours, and with formes being fetcht
From glitring ſemblances of piety:

But he that temper'd thee, bad thee ſtand vp,
Gave thee no inſtance why thou ſhouldtſ do treaſon,
Voiſſe to dub thee with the name of Traitor.
If that fame Daemon that hath gull'd thee thus,
Should with his Lyon-gate walke the whole world,
He might returne to vattie Tartar backe,
And tell the Legions, I can neuer win
A ſoule ſo eafe as that Engrilhman.

Oh, how haſt thou with ialſouſe inſedted
The ſweetneſſe of affiance? Shew me dutiſſall,
Why ſo didſt thou: ſee me they graue and learned ?
Why ſo didſt thou. Come theſey of Noble Family ?

Why ſo didſt thou. See me they religious ?

Why ſo didſt thou. Or are they ſpare in diet,
free from groſſe paſſion, or of mirth, oranger,
Conſant in ſpirit, not tweruing with the blood,
Ganuſt'd and deck'd in modeſt complements,
Not working with the eye, without the ear.
And but in purged iudgement truſting neither,
Such and ſo finely boulted didſt thou ſee me:

And thus thy ſtall hath left a kind of blot,
To make thee ſull fraught man, and beſt indued
With ſome ſuſpition, I will weepe for thee.
For this reuol't of chine, I thinkes is like
Another fall of Man. Their ſaults are open,
Arreſt them to the anſwer of the Law,
And God acquit them of their præſtifes.

Exe. Iareſt thee of High Treafon, by the name of Richard Earle of Cambridge.

I areſt thee of High Treafon, by the name of Thomas Lord Scrope of Marſham.

I areſt thee of High Treafon, by the name of Thomas Grey, Knight of Norihumberland.

Sera. Our purſures: God iſtuly hath diſcouer'd,
And I repent my ſault more then my death,
Which I beſeech your Highneſſe to forgiue,
Although my body pay the price of it.

Cam. For me, the Gold of France did not ſeduce,
Although I did admit it as a motiue,
The ſooner to effect what I intended :

But God be thanked for preuention,
Which in ſufferance heartily will reioyce,
Beſeechting God, and you, to pardon mee.

Gray. Neuer did faithfull ſubject more reioyce
At the diſcouery of moſt dangerous Treafon,

Then I do at this houre ioy ore my ſelfe,
Prevented from a damnd enterprize ;
My fault, but not my body, pardon Soueraigne.

King. God quit you in his mercie: Hear your ſentence
You have conſpir'd againſt Our Royall perſon,
Ioyd with an enemy proclaime'd, and from his Coffers,
Racceu'd the Golden Earneſt of Our death:
Wherein you would have ſold your King to ſlaughter,
His Princes, and his Peeres to feruitude,
His Subjeſts to oppreſſion, and contempt,
And his whole Kingdome into deſolation:
Touching our perſon, ſeeke we no reuenge,
But we our Kingdomes safety muſt to tender,
Whole ruine you ſought, that to her Lawes
We do deliuer you. Get you therefore hence,
(Toore miferable wretches) to your death:
The taſte whereof, God of his mercie giue

You patience to indure,* and true Repentance
Of all your deare offences. Beare them hence.
Now Lords for France: the enterprise whereof
Shall be to you as vs, like glorious

Exit.

We doubt not of a faire and luckie Warre,
Since God ſo graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous Treaſon, lurking in our way,
To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now,
But euery Rubbe is ſmoothed on our way.

Then fourth, deare Countrie men: Let vs deliuer
Our Puiſance into the hand of God,
Putting it ſtraight in expedition.

Chearely to Sea, the ſignes of Warre aduance,
No King of England, if not King of France.
Flourish.
Enter Piftoll, Nim, Bardolph, Boy, and Hofteffe.

Hoffeſſe. *Pry thee honey sweet Husband, let me bring thee to Staines.*

Piftoll. No: for my manly heart doth erne.
Bardolph, be blythe: Nim, rowſe thy vaunting Veines: Boy, brilſe
thy Courage vp: for Falſaffe hee is dead, and wee muſt
erne therefore.

Bard. Would I were with him, whereſomere hee is,
cyther in Heauen, or in Hell.

Hoffeſſe. Nay ſure, hee's not in Hell: hee's in Artburs
Boſome, if euere man went to Artburs Boſome: a made a
finer end, and went away and it had beene any Chriſtome
Child: a parted eu'n iuſt betweene Twelue and One, eu'n
at the turning o'th' Tyde: for after I ſaw him ſumble with
the Sheets, and play with Flowers, and ſmile vpon his fin-
gers end, I knew there was but one way: for his Nofe was
as ſharpe as a Pen, and a Table of greene fields. How now
Sir John (quoth I ?) what man? be a good cheare: ſo a
cryed out, God, God, God, three or four times: now I,
to comfort him, bid him a should not thinke of God; I
hop'd there was no neede to trouble himſelfe with any
fuch thoughts yet: ſo a bad me lay more Clothes on his
feet: I put my hand into the Bed, and felt them, and they
were as cold as any ſtone: then I felt to his knees, and ſo
vp-peer'd, and vpward, and all was as cold as any ſtone.

Nim. They ſay he cryed out of Sack.

Hoffeſſe. I, that a did.

Bard. And of Women.

Hoffeſſe. Nay, that a did not.

Boy. Yes. That a did, and ſaid they were Deules incar-
nate.

Woman. A could neuer abide Carnation, *twas a Co-
lour he neuer lik'd.*

Boy. A ſaid once, the Deule would haue him about
Women.

Hoffeſſe. A did in ſome ſon (indeed) handle Women:
but then hee was rumatique, and talk'd of the Whore of
Babylon.

Boy. Doe you not remember a ſaw a Flea ſticke vpon
Bardolbhs Nofe, and a ſaid it was a blacke Soule burning
in Hell.

Bard. Well, the ſuell is gone that maintain'd that fire:
that's all the Riches I got in his ſeruice.

Nim. Shall wee ſhogg ? the King will be gone from
Southampton.

Pift. Come, let's away, My Loue, giue me thy Lippes:
Looke to my Chattels, and my Moueables: Let Sences
rule: The world is, Pitch and pay: truſt none: for Oathes
are Strawes, mens Faiths are Waſer-Cakes, and hold-ſaſt
is the onely Dogge: My Ducke, therefore Canuto bee
thy Counſailor. Goe, cleare thy Chryſtalls. Yoke-
fellowes in Armes, let vs to France, like Horſe-
leeches

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

77

Kng. For vs, we will consider of this further:
To morrow shall you bear our full intent
Back to our Brother of England.

Dolph. For the Dolphin,

I stand here for him: what to him from England?

Exe. Scorne and defiance, sleight regard, contempt,
And any thing that may not mis-become
The mightie Sender, doth he prize you at.
Thus lays my King: and if your Fathers Highneſſe
Do not, in graune of all demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter Mock you ſent his Maiſtieſt;
Heele call you to ſo hot an Anſwer of it,
That Cauſes and Wombie Vaultages of France
Shall chide your Trespas, and returne your Mock
In second Accent of his Ordinance.

Dolph. Say: if my Father render faire returne,
It is againſt my will: for I defire
Nothing but Oddes with England.
To that end, as matching to his Youth and Vanitie,
I did preſent him with the Paris-Balls.

Exe. Heele make your Paris Louer ſnake for it,
Were it the Miftreſſe Court of mightie Europe:
And be aſſur'd, you'll find a diſ'rence,
As we his Subjeets haue in wonder found,
Betweene the promife of his greener dayes,
And theie he maſſers now: now he weighes Time
Euen to the vtmoſt Graine: that you ſhall reade
In your owne Loffes, if he ſtay in France.

Kng. To morrow ſhall you know our mind at full.

Flourish.

Exe. Dispatch vs with all ſpeed, leaſt that our King
Come here himselfe to queſtion our delay;
For he is footed in this Land already.

Kng. You (halbe foone) diſpatcht, with faire conditions.
A Night is but ſmall breathe, and little pawle,
To anſwer matters of this conſequence.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Flourish. Enter Chorus.

Thus with imagin'd wing our ſwift Scene flyes,
In motion of no leſſe celeritie then that of Thought.
Suppofe, that you haue ſeene
The well-appointed King at Douer Peer,
Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet,
With ſilken Streamers, the young Phebus ſayning;
Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
Vpon the Hempen Tackle, Ship-boyes climbing;
Heare the ſhriill Whifſtle, which doth order giue
To ſounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles,
Borne with th'inuſible and creeping Wind,
Draw the huge Bottomes through the ſurrowed Sea,
Breſting the loftie Surge. O, doe but thinke
You ſtand vpon the Riuage, and behold
A Citie on th'inconſtant Billowes dauncing:
For to appears this Fleet Maiſtically,
Holding due courſe to Harſlew. Follow, follow:
Grapple your minds to ſternage of this Naue,
And leaue your England as dead Mid-night, ſtill,
Guarded with Grandfires, Babyes, and old Women,
Eſther paſſ, or not arriu'd to pyth and puſſance:
For who is he, whoſe Chin is but enrich

With one appearing Hayre, that will not follow
Theſe cull'd and choyſe-drawne Caualiers to France?
Worke, worke your Thoughts, and therein fee a Siege:
Behold the Ordenance on their Carriages,
With fatall mouthes gaping on girded Harſlew.
Suppofe th' Embaſſador from the French comes back:
Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him
Katherine his Daughter, and with her to Dowrie,
Some petty and vnprofitable Dukedomes.
The offer likes not: and the nimble Gunner
With Lynſtock now the diuellifh Cannon touches.
Alarum, and Chambers goe off.

And downe goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eech out our performance with your mind. Exit.

Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Glouceſter.

Alarum: Scaling Ladders at Harſlew.
King. Once more vnto the Breach,

Deare friends, once more;
Or close the Wall vp with our English dead:
In Peace, there's nothing ſo becomes a man,
As modeſt ſtillneſſe, and humilitie:
But when the blast of Warre blowes in our eares,
Then imitate the action of the Tyger:
Stiffen the fine wes, commune vp the blood,
Difſuife faire Nature with hard-fauour'd Rage:
Then lend the Eye a terrible aspect:
Let it pry through the portage of the Head,
Like the Braſſe Cannon: let the Brow o'rewhelme it,
As fearefully, as doth a galled Rocke
O're-hang and iutty his confounded Baſe,
Swill'd with the wild and waſtfull Ocean.
Now ſet the Teeth, and ſtretch the Noſthrill wide,
Hold hard the Breath, and bend vp euery Spirit
To his full height. On, on, you Nobliſh English,
Whofe blood is ſet from Fathers of Warre-proſe:
Fathers, that like ſo many Alexanders,
Haue in theſe parts from Morne till Euen ſought,
And ſheath'd their Swords, for lack of argument.
Difhonour not your Mothers: now atteſt,
That thofe whom you call'd Fathers, did beget you.
Be Coppy now to me of groſſer blood,
And teach them how to Warre. And you good Yeomen,
Whofe Lyms were made in England; ſhow vs here
The mettell of your Paſture: let vs ſware,
That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not:
For there is none of you ſo meane and baſe,
That hath not Noble luſter in your eyes.
I fee you ſtand like Grey-hounds in the flips,
Straying vpon the Start. The Game's afoot:
Follow your Spirit; and vpon this Charge,
Cry, God for Harry, England, and S. George.

Alarum, and Chambers goe off.

Enter Nim, Bardolph, Piftoll, and Boy.

Bard. On, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach.

Nim. 'Pray thee Corporall ſtay, the Knocks are too
hot: and for mine owne part, I haue not a Cafe of Liues:
the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plaine-Song
of it.

Pift. The plaine-Song is moſt iuſt: for humors doe a-
bound: Knocks goe and come: Gods Vaffals drop and
dye: and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth winne
immortall fame.

Alarum, and Chambers goe off.

Pift. Would I were in an Ale-houſe in London, I
would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and ſaſſie.

Boy. And

Boy. Would I were in an Ale-houſe in London, I
would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and ſaſſie.

Pift. And

Pift. And

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

78

Pist. And I: If wishes would preuayle with me, my
purpofe should not fayle with me; but thither would I
high.

Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth fang on
bough.

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Vp to the breach, you Dogges; auaint you
Cullions.

Pist. Be mercifull great Duke to men of Mould: abate thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage, great Duke. Good Bawcock bate thy Rage: vhe lenitie fweet Chuck.

Nim. Thefe be good humors: your Honor wins bad
humors.
Exit.

Boy. As young as I am, I haue obferu'd thefe three
Swafhers: I am Boy to them all three, but all they three,
though they would ferue me, could not be Man to me;
for indeed three ſuch Antiques do not amount to a man:
for Bardolph, hee is white-liuer'd, and red.fac'd; by the
meanes whereof, a faces it out, but fights not: for Piftoll,
hee hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the
meanes whereof, a breakes Words, and keepe whole
Weapons: for Nim, hee hath heard, that men of few
Words are the beſt men, and therefore hee ſcorne to ſay
his Prayers, left a ſhould be thought a Coward: but his
few bad Words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for
a neuer broke any mans Head but his owne, and that was
againſt a Poſt, when he was drunke. They will ſeale any
thing, and call it Purchafe. Bardolph ſtole a Lute-cafe,
bore it twelue Leagues, and fold it for three halfepence.
Nim and Bardolph are ſworne Brothers in filching: and
in Callice they ſtole a fire-flouell. I knew by that peeece
of Seruice, the men would carry Coales. They would
haue me as familiar with mens Pockets, as their Gloues
or their Hand-kerchers: which makes much againſt my
Manhood, if I should take from anothers Pocket, to put
into mine; for it is plaine pocketting vp of Wrongs.
I muſt leauethem, and feeke ſome better Seruice: their
Villany goes againſt my weake ſtomacke, and therefore
I muſt caſt it vp.
Exit.

Enter Gower.

Gower. Captaine Fluellen, you muſt come prefently to
the Mynes; the Duke of Glouceſter would ſpeake with
you.

Flu. To the Mynes? Tell you the Duke, it is not ſo
good to come to the Mynes: for looke you, the Mynes
is not according to the diſciplines of the Warre; the con-
cuities of it is not ſufficient: for looke you, th'athuer-
farie, you may diſcuffe vnto the Duke, looke you, is digt
himſelfe ſoure yard vnder the Countermines: by Cheſhu,
I thinke a will plowe vp all, if there is not better direc-
tions.

Gower. The Duke of Glouceſter, to whom the Order
of the Siege is giuen, is altogether directed by an Irifh
man, a very valiant Gentlenan yfaith.

Welch. It is Captaine Mackmorrice, is it not?

Gower. I thinke it be.

Welch: By Cheſhu he is an Aſſe, as in the World, I will
veriſe as much in his Beard: he has no more diſcriptions
in the true diſciplines of the Warres, looke you, of the
Roman diſciplines, then is a Puppy-dog.

Enter Mackmorrice, and Captaine Iamy.

Gower. Here a comes, and the Scots Captaine, Captaine
Iamy, with him.

Welch. Captaine Iamy is a maruellous falorous Gen-
tleman, that is certain, and of great expedition and know-

ledge in th' aunchiant Warres, vpon my particular know-
ledge of his diſirections: by Cheſhu he will mainſtine
Argument as well as any Militarie man in the World,
the diſciplines of the Priftine Warres of the Romans.
Scot. I ſay gudday, Captaine Fluellen.

Welch. Godden to your Worſhip, good Captaigne Iames.

Gower. How now Captaine Mackmorrice, haue you
quit the Mynes? haue the Pioners giuen o't?

Irifh. By Chrifh Law tis ill done: the Worke iſ
giue ouer, the Trompet found the Retreat. By my Hand
I ſware, and my fathers Soule, the Worke iſt ill done,
it iſt giue ouer: I would haue blowed vp the Towne
ſo Chrifh faue me law, in an houre. O tis ill done, tis ill
done: by my Hand tis ill done.

Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, I beſeech you now,
will you voutſaſe me, looke you, a few diſpurations with
you, as partly touching or concerning the diſciplines of
the Warre, the Roman Warres, in the way of Argument,
looke you, and friendly communication: partly to faſſure
my Opinion, and partly for the ſatisfaction, looke you of
my Mind: as touching the direction of the Militarie di-
cipline, that is the Point.

Scot. It fall be vary gud, gud feith, gud Captaine bath
and I fall quit you with gud leue, as I may pick occasion:
that fall I mary.

Irifh. It is no time to diſcourſe, ſo Chrifh faue me,
the day is hot, and the Weather, and the Warres, and the
King, and the Dukes: it is no time to diſcourſe, the Town
is beſeech'd: and the Trumpet call vs to the breach, and
we talke, and be Chrifh do nothing, tis ſhame for vs all.
ſo God fa'me tis ſhame to stand still, it is ſhame by my
hand: and there is Throats to be cut, and Workes to be
done, and there iſt nothing done, ſo Chrifh t'a'me law.

Scot. By the Mes, ere theſe eyes of mine take them-
ſelues to ſlomber, ayle de gud ſeruice, or Ie jigges vii
grund for it; ay, or goe to death: and Ie pay t'as valo-
rouſly as I may, that I al fuerly do, that is the breſt and
the long: mary, I wad full taine heard ſome queſtion
tween you tway.

Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, I thinke, looke you,
ander your correction, there is not many of your Na-
tion.

Irifh. Of my Nation? What iſt my Nation? Iſt a
Villaine, and a Baſterd, and a Knaue, and a Raſcal, What
iſt my Nation? Who talkes of my Nation?

Welch. Looke you, if you take the matter otherwile
then is meant, Captaine Mackmorrice, peraduencure I
ſhall thinke you does not vſe me with that affabilitie, as in
diſcretion you ought to vſe me, looke you, being as good
a man as your ſelfe, both in the diſciplines of Warre, and
in the deruation of my Birth, and in other particula-
rities.

Irifh. I doe not know you ſo good a man as my ſelſe
ſo Chrifh faue me, I will cut off your Head.

Gower. Gentlemen both, you will miſtake each other.

Scot. A, that's a foule fault.

A Parley.

Gower. The Towne founds a Parley.

Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, when there is more
better oportunitie to be required, looke you, I will be
ſo bold as to tell you, I know the diſciplines of Warre:
and there is an end.
Exit.

Enter the King and all his Traime before the Gates.

King. How yet refolues the Gouernour of the Towne?
This is the lateſt Parle we will admit:
There.

The Life of Henry the Fift.

79

Therefore to our best mercy giue your felues,

Or like to men proude of destruption,

Dee's to our worst : for as I am a Souldier,

A Name that in my thoughts becomes me best;

I begin the batt'rie once againe,
I will not leaue the halfe-atchieued Harflew,

Will in her alhes the lye buried.

The Gates of Mercy shall be all shut vp,

and the fleh'd Souldier, rough and hard of heart,

in a liberie of bloody hand, shall raunge

With Conscience wide as Hell, mowing like Graffe
Your fleh't faire Virgins, and your flowing Infants.

What is it then to me, if impious Warre,

Argued in flames like to the Prince of Fiends,

Doe with his fnyright complexion all fell feats,

Enflock't to waft and defolation?

What is to me, when you your felues are cause,

of your pure Maydens fall into the hand

of hot and forcing Violation?

What Reyne can hold licentious Wickedneſſe,

When downe the Hill he holds his fierce Carriere?

We may as boollſleſſe ſpend our vaine Command

Upon this enaraged Souldiers in their ſpoyle,

And ſend Precepts to the Leniathan, to come afshore.

Therefore, you men of Harſlew,

Take pitty of your Towne and of your People,

Whiles yet my Souldiers are in my Command,

Whiles yet the coole and temperate Wind of Grace

O-blows the filthy and contagious Clouds

of deadly Murther, Spoyle, and Villany.

How: why in a moment looke to ſee

The blind and bloody Souldier, with foule hand

Deere the Lockes of your ſhrill-ſhriking Daughters:

Your Fathers taken by the filuer Beards,

And their moſt reuerend Heads daſt to the Walls:

Four naked Infants spitted vpon Pykes,

Whiles the mad Mothers, with their howles confus'd,

Doe breake the Clouds; as did the Wiues of Iewry,

Herbloody bloody-hunting ſlaughter-men.

What ſay you? Will you yeeld, and this auoyd?

O gultie in defence, be thus deſtroy'd.

Enter Gouernour.

Gouern. Our expectation hath this day an end :

The Dolphin, whom of Succours we entreated,

Reues vs, that his Powers are yet not ready,

To rayle ſo great a Siege: Therefore great King,

Weyeel'd our Towne and Liues to thy ſoft Mercy :

Enter our Gates, diſpofe of vs and ours,

Frowen no longer are defenſible.

King. Open your Gates: Come Vnckle Exeter,

Goe you and enter Harſlew; there remaine,

And fortife it strongly gainſt the French :

The mercry to them all for vs, deare Vnckle.

The Winter comming on, and Sickneſſe growing

Upon our Souldiers, we will retyre to Calis.

To night in Harſlew will we be your Gueſt,

To morrow for the March are we addreſt.

Flourish, and enter the Towne.

Enter Katherine and an old Gentlewoman.

Tabu. Alice, tu as eſſe eu Angleterre, & tu bien parlas
Language.

Alice. En peu Madame.

Kath. Iete prie m'enſignez, il ſaut que ie apprend a par-
ent. Comment appelle vous le main en Anglois?

Alice. Le main il & appelle de Hand.

Kath. De Hand.

Alice. Et le doyts.

Kat. Le doyts, ma ſoy Ie oublie, e doyt mays, ie me ſouemera
le doyts ie ſenge qu'ils ont appelle de ſingres, on de ſingres.

Alice. Le main de Hand, le doyts le Fingres, ie ſenge que ie
fuis le bon escholier.

Kath. I'ay gaynie diux mots d'Anglois vistement, comment
appelle vous le ongles?

Alice. Le ongles, les appellons de Nayles.

Kath. De Nayles eſcoute: dites moy, ſi se parle bien: de
Hand, de Fingres, e de Nayles.

Alice. C'est bien diſt Madame, il & fort bon Anglois.

Kath. Dites moy l'Anglois pour le bras.

Alice. De Arme, Madame.

Kath. E de conde.

Alice. D'Elbow.

Kath. D'Elbow: Ie men ſay le repiticio de tous les mots
que vous maves, apprins des a preſent.

Alice. Il & trop difficile Madame, comme Ie ſenge.

Kath. Excuse moy Alice eſcoute, d'Hand, de Fingre, de
Nayles, d'Arme, de Bilbow.

Alice. D'Elbow, Madame.

Kath. O Seigneur Dieu, ie men oublie d'Elbow, comment ap-
pelle vous le col.

Alice. De Nick, Madame.

Kath. De Nick, e le menton.

Alice. De Chin.

Kath. De Sin: le col de Nick, le menton de Sin.

Alice. Ouy. Sauf voſtre honneur en verité vous pronoun-
cies les mots auſi droit, que le Nats'ſs d'Angleterre.

Kath. Ie ne doute point d'apprendre par de grace de Dieu,
& en peu de temps.

Alice. N'auve vos y deſia oublie ce que ie vous a enſigné.

Kath. Nome ie recitera a vous promptement, d'Hand, de
Fingre, de Maylees.

Alice. De Nayles, Madame.

Kath. De Nayles, de Arme, de Ilbow.

Alice. Sans voſtre honeus d'Elbow.

Kath. Ainsſi de ie d'Elbow, de Nick, & de Sin: comment ap-
pelle vous les pied & de roba.

Alice. Le Foot, & le Count.

Kath. Le Foot, & le Count: O Seigneur Dieu, il ſout le
mots de ſon mauvais corruptible groſſe & impudique, & nen
pour le Dames de Honeur d'usur: Ie ne vondray prononcer ce
mots devant le Seigneurs de France, pour toute le monde, ſo le
Foot & le Count neant moy's, Ie recitera vn anivrefoys ma lecon
enſembe, d'Hand, de Fingre, de Nayles, d'Arme, d'Elbow, de
Niek, de Sin, & de Foot, le Count.

Alice. Excellent, Madame.

Kath. C'est aſſes pour une foyes, alons nous a dimer.

Exit.

Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the
Constable of France, and others.

King. Tis certaine he hath paſt the Riuer Some.

Conſt. And if he be not fought withall, my Lord,
Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,

And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People.

Dolph. O Dies viuant: Shall a few Sprayes of vs,

The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie,

Our Syens, put in wilde and ſauage Stock,

Spirt vp ſo suddenly into the Clouds,

And ouer-looke their Grafters?

Brit. Normans, but baſtard Normans, Norman baſtards:

Mort du marie, if they march along

Vnfought withall, but I will ſell my Dukedome,

To

80

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

To buy a flobbry and a durtie Farme
In that nooke-shotten lie of Albion.

Conſt. Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell?
Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?

On whom, as in defpight, the Sunne lookes pale,

Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can fodden Water,

A Drench for fur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth,
Decoſt their cold blood to such valiant heat?

And ſhall our quick blood, ſpirited with Wine,

Seeme froſtie ? O, for honor of our Land,
Let vs not hang like roping Iyckles

Vpon our Houſes Thatch, whiles a more froſtie People
Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields :
Poore we call them, in their Native Lords.

Dolphin. By Faith and Honor,

Our Madames mock at vs, and plainly ſay,

Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue

Their bodyes to the Luft of English Youth,
To new-flore France with Baſtard Warriors.

Erit. They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles,
And teach Lanolts high, and ſwift Carranto's,

Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles,
And that we are moſt loftie Run-awayes.

King. Where is Montiuy the Herald? I'de him hence,
Let him greet England with our ſharpe defiance.

Vp Princes, and with ſpirit of Honor edged,
More ſharper then your Swords, high to the field :

Charles Delabreth, High Conſtable of France,
You Dukes of Orleance, Burbor, and of Berry,
Alanfon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgonie,

Iaques Chattillon, Rambures, Vandemont,

Beaumont, Grand Free, Rouſſi, and Faulconbridge,
Loys, Lefrale, Bonciquall, and Charaloyes,

High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings;

For your great Seats, now quit you of great ſhames:
Barre Harry England, that Iwepes through our Land
With Penons painted in the blood of Harleſw :

Ruſh on his Hoaſt, as doth the melted Snow
Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vafall Seat,

The Alpes doth ſpit, and void his rhowme vpon.

Goe downe vpon him. you haue Power enough,
And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan.

Bring him our Prifoner.

Conſt. This becomes the Great.

Sorry am I his numbers are ſo few,

His Souldiers ſick, and famiſht in their March:

For I am ſure, when he ſhall fee our Army,
Hee'le drop his heart into the ſinck of ſeare,

And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.

King. Therefore Lord Conſtable, haſt on Montiuy,
And let him ſay to England, that we ſend,

To know what willing Ransome he will giue.

Prince Dolphin, you ſhall ſtay with vs in Roan.

Dolph. Not so, I doe beſeech your Maieſtie.

King. Be patient, for you ſhall remaine with vs.

Now fourth Lord Conſtable, and Princes all,

And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.

Exeunt.

Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower and Fluellen.

Gower. How now Captaine Fluellen, come you from the Bridge?

Flu. I aſſure you, there is very excellent ſeruices committed at the Bridge.

Gower. Is the Duke of Exeter ſafe?

Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Aga-

memnon, and a man that I loue and honour with my ſooke,
and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my living,
and my vttermoſt power. He is not, God be pr ayed and
bleſſed, any hurt in the World, but keepeſ the Bridge
moſt valiantly, with excellent diſcipline. There is an au-
chient Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very
conſciencie hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthonie,
and hee is a man of no eſtimation in the World, but I did let
him doe as gallant ſeruice.

Gower. What doe you call him?

Flu. Hee is call'd aunchient Piftoll.

Gower. I know him not.

Enter Piftoll.

Flu. Here is the man.

Pift. Captaine, I thee beſeech to doe me fauours: the Duke of Exeter doth loue thee well.

Flu. I, I pray you God, and I haue merited some loue at his hands.

Pift. Bardolph, a Souldier firme and found of heart,
and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie
Fortunes ſurious fickle Wheeles, that Goddeſſe blind that
flands vpon the rolling reſſtleſſe Stone.

Flu. By your patience, aunchient Piftoll: Fortune in
painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to ſignifie
to you, that Fortune is blinde; and ſhée is painted al
with a Wheele, to ſignifie to you, which is the Morall of
it, that ſhée is turning and inconſtant, and mutabilin,
and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed upon a
Sphericaſl Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles
in good truth, the Poet makes a moſt excellent descrip-
tion of it: Fortune is an excellent Morall.

Pift. Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him:
for he hath ſolne a Pax, and hanged muſt a be: a daſned
death: Ict Gallowes gape for Dogge, Iet Man goe free,
and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe ſuffocate: but Exeter
hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price.
Therefore goe ſpeake, the Duke will hearre thy voyces,
and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of
Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for
his Life, and I will theſe requite.

Flu. Aunchient Piftoll, I doe partly vnderstand your
meaning.

Pift. Why then reioyce therefore.

Flu. Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce
at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would deſire
the Duke to vſe his good pleafure, and put him to execution:
for diſcipline ought to be vſed.

Pift. Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendſhip.

Flu. It is well.

Pift. The Figge of Spaine.

Exit.

Flu. Very good.

Gower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rafeall, I
remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purse.

Flu: Ile aſſure you, a vt't'red as prauie words at the
Pridge, as you ſhall fee in a Summers day: but it is very
well: what he ha's ſpoket to me, that is well I warrant you,
when time is ſerue.

Gower. Why'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and
then goes to the Warres, to grace himſelfe at his reſume
into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and ſuch
ſellowes are perſit in the Great Commanders Names, and
they will learne you by rote where ſeruices were done;
at ſuch and ſuch a ſconce, at ſuch a Breach, at ſuch a Con-
uoy: who came off brauly, who was ſhot, who diſ-
grac'd, what termes the Enemy ſlood on: and this they
conne perſit in the phraſe of Warre; which they tricke

VP

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

8t

with new-tuned Oathes; and what a Beard of the Ge-
neralls Cur, and a horror Sute of the Campe, will doe a-
mong foming Bottles, and Ale-washt Wits, is wonder-
ful to be thought on: but you muft learne to know such
landers of the age, or else you may be maruellously mi-
booke.

Fla. I tell you what, Captaine Gower : I doe perceiue
bee is not the man that hee would gladly make few to
the World hee is: if I fiude a hole in his Coat, I will tell
him my minde : hearie you, the King is comming, and I
muft speake with him from the Pridge.

Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his
poore Souldiers.

Fla. God pleſſe your Maiestie.

King. How now Fluellen, canst thou from the Bridge?
Fla. I, to please your Maiestie : The Duke of Exeter
is very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge; the French
are gone off, looke you, and there is gallant and moſt prae
ſuffages: marry, th'athuerfarie was haue poſſeſſion of
the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of
Exeter is Maſter of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie,
the Duke is a prae man.

King. What men have you loſt, Fluellen ?

Fla. The perdition of th'athuerfarie hath beene very
great, reaſonable great: marry for my part, I thinke the
Duke haſt loſt neuer a man, but one that is like to be exer-
ced for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Mai-
ſtie know the man: his face is all bubukles and wheikes,
and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his
nole, and it is like a coale of fire, ſometimes plew, and
sometimes red, but his noſe is executed, and his fire's
out.

King. Wee would haue all ſuch offendors ſo cut off:
and we giue expreſſe charge, that in our Marches through
the Countrey, there be nothing compell'd from the Vil-
lages; nothing taken, but pay'd for: none of the French
h抽prayed or abuſed in diſdainefull Language; for when
Leuſie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler
Gameſter is the ſoonest winner.

Tacket. Enter Mountiоу.

Mountiоу. You know me by my habit.

King. Well then, I know thee: what ſhall I know of
thee?

Mountiоу. My Maſters mind.

King. Unfold it.

Mountiоу. Thus ſayes my King: Say thou to Harry
of England, Though we ſeem'd dead, we did but ſleep:
Aduantage is a better Souldier then rafhneſſe. Tell him,
wee could haue rebuk'd him at Harſſele, but that wee
thought not good to bruife an iniurie, till it were full
trje. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is im-
peiall: England ſhall repent his folly, ſee his weake-
ſe, and admire our ſufferance. Bid him therefore con-
der of his ransome, which muſt proportion the loſſes we
haue borne, the ſubieſts we haue loſt, the diſgrace we
haue digefted; which in weight to re-anſwer, his petti-
ſe would bow vnder. For our loſſes, his Exchequer is
too poore for the ſeffuſion of our bloud, the Muſter of his
Kingdome too faint a number; and for our diſgrace, his
owne perſon kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worth-
neſſe ſatisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for
conſution, he hath betrayed his followers, whose con-
ſation is pronounct: So farre my King and Maſter,
to much my Office.

King. What is thy name? I know thy qualitie.

Mountiоу.

King. Thou dooſt thy Office fairely. Turne thee back,
And tell thy King, I doe not ſeeke him now,
But could be willing to march on to Callice,
Without impeachment: for to ſay thefooth,
Though'tis no wifdome to confeſſe ſo much
Vuto an enemie of Craft and Vantage,
My people are with ſickneſſe much enſeembled,
My numbers leſſen'd: and thofe ſew I haue,
Almoſt no better then ſo many French;
Who when they were in health, I tell thee Herald,
I thought, vpon one payre of English I egges
Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgiue me God,
That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of France
Hath blowne that vice in me. I muſt repent:
Goe therefore tell thy Maſter, heere I am;
My Ranſome, is this frayle and worthleſſe Trunke;
My Army, but a weake and ſickly Guard:
Yet God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himſelſe, and ſuch another Neighbor
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour Mountiу.
Goe bid thy Maſter well aduife himſelſe.
If we may paffe, we will: if we be hindred,
We ſhall your tawnie ground with your red blood
Discolour: and ſo Mountiу, fare you well.
The ſumme of all our Anſwer is but this:
We would not ſeeke a Battaile as we are,
Nor as we are, we ſay we will not ſun it:
So tell your Maſter.

Mountiоу. I ſhall deliuer ſo: Thanks to your High-
neſſe.

Glouc. I hope they will not come vpon vs now.

King. We are in Gods hand, Brother, not in theirs:
March to the Bridge, it now drawes toward night,
Beyond the Riuer wee'le enſampe our ſelues,
And on to morrow bid them march away.
Exeunt.

Enter the Conſtible of France, the Lord Ramburs,
Orleance, Dolphin, with others.

Conſt. Tut, I haue the beſt Armour of the World:
would it were day.

Orleance. You haue an excellent Armour: but let my Horſe have his due.

Conſt. It is the beſt Horſe of Europe.

Orleance. Will it neuer be Morning ?

Dolph. My Lord of Orleance, and my Lord High Con-
fable, you talke of Horſe and Armour?

Orleance. You are as well prouided of both, as any
Prince in the World.

Dolph. What a long Night is this ? I will not change
my Horſe with any that treads but on foure poſtuures:
ch'ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were
hayres: Le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de
ſeu. When I beſtlyde him, I ſoare, I am a Hawke: he troses
the ayre: the Earth ſings, when he touches it: the bafeſt
home of his hoofe, is more Muſicall then the Pipe of
Hermes.

Orleance. Hee's of the colour of the Nutmeg.

Dolph. And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beaſt
for Perfens: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Ele-
ments of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but en-
ly in patient ſtillneſſe while his Rider mounts him: hee
is indeede a Horſe, and all other Iades you may call
Beaſts.

Conſt. In-

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

82

Conft. Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellent Horse.

Dolph. It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces Homage.

Orleance. No more Cousin.

Dolph. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from the riling of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe, varie deferred prayſe on my Palfray: it is a Theame as fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues, and my Horſe is argument for them all: 'tis a ſubieſt for a Soueraigne to reaſon on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs, and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions, and wonder at him, I once wriſt a Sonnet in his prayſe, and began thus, *Wonder of Nature*.

Orleance. I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Miftrefſe.

Dolph. Then did they imitate that which I comps'd to my Courſer, for my Horſe is my Miftrefſe.

Orleance. Your Miftrefſe beares well.

Dolph. Me well, which is the preſcript prayſe and perſection of a good and particular Miftrefſe.

Conſt. Nay, for me thought yefferday your Miftrefſe ſhrewdly ſhooke your back.

Dolph. So perhaps did yours.

Conſt. Mine was not bridled.

Dolph. O then belike ſhe was old and gentle, and you rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Horſe off, and in your ſtrait Stroſſers.

Conſt. You haue good iudgement in HorſemanSHIP.

Dolph. Be warn'd by me then: they that ride ſo, and ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue my Horſe to my Miftrefſe.

Conſt. I had as liue haue my Miftrefſe a Jade.

Dolph. I tell thee Conſtable, my Miftrefſe weares his owne hayre.

Conſt. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a Sow to my Miftrefſe.

Dolph. Le chien eſt retourné a ſon propre veniſſement eſt la lèuye lauee, an bourbier: thou mak'st vſe of any thing.

Conſt. Yet doe I not vſe my Horſe for my Miftrefſe, or any ſuch Prouerbe, ſo little kin to the purpoe.

Ramb. My Lord Conſtable, the Armour that I saw in your Tent to night, are thofe Starres or Sunnes vpon it?

Conſt. Starres my Lord.

Dolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope.

Conſt: And yet my Sky shall not want.

Dolph. That may be, for you beare a many ſuperfluouſly, and 'twere more honor ſome were away.

Conſt. Eu'n as your Horſe beares your prayſes, who would trot as well, were ſome of your bragges diſmounted.

Dolph. Would I were able to loade him with his defert. Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile, and my way ſhall be paued with English Faces.

Conſt. I will not lay ſo, for ſeare I should be fac't out of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would fairene be about the eares of the English.

Ramb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentie Prisoners?

Conſt. You muſt firſt goe your ſelfe to hazard, ere you haue them.

Dolph. Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my ſelfe. Exit.

Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morning.

Ramb. He longs to eate the English.

Conſt. I thinke he will eate all he kills.

Orleance. By the white Hand of my Lady, hee a gilant Prince.

Conſt. Sweare by her Foot, that ſhe may tread out the Oath.

Orleance. He is simply the moſt active Gentleman of France.

Conſt. Doing is actiuitie, and he will fill be doing.

Orleance. He neuer did harme, that I heard of.

Conſt. Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe that good name fill.

Orleance. I know him to be valiant.

Conſt. I was told that, by one that knowes him better, then you.

Orleance. What's hee?

Conſt. Marry hee told me so himſelfe, and hee haſt car'd not who knew it.

Orleance. Hee neecesd not, it is no hidden verue in him.

Conſt. By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body ſaw it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it appears, it will bate.

Orleance. I'll never neuer ſwell'd.

Conſt. I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatterie in friendſhip.

Orleance. And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuill his due.

Conſt. Well plac't: there stands your friend for the Deuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, A Pox of the Deuill.

Orleance. You are the better at Prouerbs, by how much a Fooles Bolt is ſoon eſt.

Conſt. You haue ſhot ouer.

Orleance. 'Tis not the firſt time you were ouer-flot.

Enter a Nefſenger.

Meff. My Lord high Conſtable, the English lye within fifteene hundred paces of your Tents.

Conſt. Who hath meafur'd the ground?

Meff. The Lord Grandpree.

Conſt. A valiant and moſt expert Gentleman. Would it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee long not for the Dawning, as wee doe.

Orleance. What a wretched and peeeuifh fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd ſollowes to farre out of his knowledge.

Conſt. If the English had any apprehenſion, they would runne away.

Orleance. That they lack: for if their heads had any telleſt all Armour, they could neuer weare ſuch heads Head-pieces.

Ramb. That Iland of England breeds very valiant Creatures; their Maſtiffes are of vnmatchable coorage.

Orleance. Fooliſh Curres, that runne winking into the mouth of a Ruffian Beare, and haue their heads craftiſt like rotten Apples: you may as well ſay, that's a valiant Flea, that dare eate his breakeſaft on the Lippe of a Lyon.

Conſt. Iuſt, iuſt: and the men doe sympathize with the Maſtiffes, in robuſtions and rough coming, leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then give them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele: they will eate like Wolues, and fight like Deuils.

Orleance.

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

83

Orlæance, I, but these English are shroudly out of
Sère.
Comt. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only

Sère.

Comt. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only
themacks to eare, and none to fight. Now is it time to
time: come, shall we about it?

Orlæance. It is now two a Clock: but let me fee, by ten
We shall haue each a hundred English men. Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Chorus.

Now entertaine coniecture of a time,
When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke
Fills the wide Vettell of the Vnuerfe.

From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night
The Hamme of eyther Army stilly founds;

That the fixt Centinels almost receiue
The secret Whifpers of each others Watch.

Fire anwers fire, and through their paly flames
Each Battaille fees the others vmbër'd face.

Steed threatens Steed, in high and boaſtfull Neighs
Piercing the Nights dull Eare : and from the Tents,
The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,

With buſe Hammers closing Riuets vp,
Gue dreadfull note of preparation.

The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clockes doe towle:
And the third howre of drowſie Morning nam'd,
Prowd of their Numbers, and ſecure in Soule,
The confident and ouer-luſtſ French,

Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;
And chide the creepee-tardy-gated Night,

Who like a foule and oughly Witch doth limpe
Sotediouſly away. The poore condemned English,

Like Sacriſces, by their watchfull FIres
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The Mornings danger: and their geſture ſad,
Inuetting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,
Preſented them vnto the gazing Moone

So many horror Ghouſts. O now, who will behold
The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band

Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;
Let him cry, Prayſe and Glory on his head :

For forth he goes, and vifits all his Hoaſt,
Bids them good morrow with a moded ſmyle,

And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Counreymen.
Upon his Royall Face there is no note,

How dread an Army hath enrolded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour

Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night :
But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,

With chearefull ſemblance, and vweet Maieſtie:
That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,

Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.
A Largelle vnviuerſall, like the Sunne,

His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,
Thawing cold ſeaſe, that meane and gentle all

Hold, as may vnworthineſſe define.
A little touch of Harry in the Night,

And (so our Scene muſt to the Battaille flye :
Where, O for pitty, we shall much diſgrace,

With foure or ſiue moſt vile and ragged ſoyle,
(Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)

The Name of Agincourt : Yet fit and fee,
Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.

Exit.

Enter the King, Bedford, and Glouſter.

King. Gloſter, 'tis true that we are in great danger,
The greater therefore ſhould our Courage be.

God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie,
There is ſome foule of goodneſſe in things euill,
Would men obſeruaingly diſtill it out.

For our bad Neighbour makes vs early flirrers,
Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry.

Besides, they are our outward Conſciences,
And Preachers to vs all; admoniſhing,

That we should drefſe vs fairly for our end.

Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
And make a Morall of the Diuell himſelfe.

Enter Erpingham.

Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham:

A good ſoft Pillow for that good white Head,

Were better then a churliſh turſe of France,

Erping. Not ſo my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,
Since I may ſay, now Iye I like a King.

King. 'Tis good for men to loue their preſent paines,
Vpon example, to the Spirit is eſaed :

And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt

The Organs, though deſuſt and dead before,

Breake vp their drowſie Graue, and newly moue

With caſted flough, and fresh legeritie.

Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our Camps

Doe my good morrow to them, and anon
Defire them all to my Patuillion.

Gloſter. We ſhall, my Liege.

Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?

King. No, my good Knight:

Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:

I and my Boſome muſt debate a while,

And then I would no other company.

Erping. The Lord in Heauen bleſſe thee, Noble
Harry.
Exeunt.

King. God a mercry old Heart, thou speak'st cheare-
fully.
Enter Pistoſt.

Pisſ. Che vous la ?

King. A friend.

Pisſ. Diſeuffe vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thou
bafe, common, and popular?

King. I am a Gentleman of a Company.

Pisſ. Trayl'ſt thou the puſſant Pyke?

King. Euen ſo: what are you?

Pisſ. As good a Gentleman as the Emperor.

King. Then you are a better then the King.

Pisſ. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a
Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Pift
moſt valiant: I kiffle his durtie ſhooe, and from heart-
ſtring I loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?

King. Harry le Roy.

Pisſ. Le Roy? a Corniſh Name: art thou of Corniſh Crew?

King. No, I am a Welchman.

Pisſ. Know'ſt thou Fluelenſ?

King. Yes.

Pisſ. Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vpon
S. Davies day.

King. Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappe
that day, leaſt he knock that about yours.

i 2

Pisſ.Art

The Life of Henry the Fift.

84

Pift. Art thou his friend?

King. And his Kinfman too.

Pift. The Figo for thee then.

King. I thanke you: God be with you.

Pift. My name is Pistol call'd.

Exit.

King. It forts well with your fierceness.

Manet King.

Enter Fluelen and Gower.

Gower. Captaine Fluelen.

Flu. 'So, in the Name of Iesu Christ, speake fewer: it
is the greatest admiration in the vnioerfall World, when
the true and auchient Prerogatifs and Lawes of the
Warres is not kept: if you would take the paines but to
examine the Warres of Pompey the Great, you shall finde,
I warrant you, that there is no tiddle tadle nor pibble ba-
ble in Pompeyes Campe: I warrant you, you shall finde
the Ceremonies of the Warres, and the Cares of it, and
the Formes of it, and the Sobrietie of it, and the Modestie
of it, to be otherwise wife.

Gower. Why the Enemie is lowd, you heare him all
Night.

Flu. If the Enemie is an Aſſe and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should alſo, looke you, be an Aſſe and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe, in your owne conſcience now?

Gow. I will ſpeake lower.

Flu. I pray you, and beſeech you, that you will. Exit.

King. Though it appeare a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this Welchman.

Enter three Souldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court,
and Michael Williams.

Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the Morning
which breaks yonder?

Bates. I thinke it be: but wee haue no great caufe to
defire the approach of day.

Williams. Wee fee yonder the beginning of the day,
but I thinke wee shall neuer fee the end of it. Who goes
there?

King. A Friend.

Williams. Vnder what Captaine ſerue you ?

King. Vnder Sir John Erpingham.

Williams. A good old Commander, and a moſt kinde
Gentleman: I pray you, what thinkes he of our eſtate?

King. Euen as men wrackt vpon a Sand, that looke to
be waſt off the next Tyde.

Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King?

King. No: nor it is not meet he ſhould: for though I
ſpeake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am:
the Violet ſmells to him, as it doth to me; the Element
thewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but
humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Na-
kedneſſe he appeares but a man; and though his affecti-
ons are higher mounted then ours, yet when they ſtoupe,
they ſtoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he fees
reafon of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of
the fame rellifh as ours are: yet in reafon, no man ſhould
poffeſſe him with any appearance of ſeare; leaſt hee, by
ſhewing it, ſhould dis-hearten his Army.

Bates. He may ſhew what outward courage he will:
but I believe, as cold a Night as 'tis, hee could with him-
felfe in Thames vp to the Neck; and so I would he were,
and I by him, at all aduentures, so we were quit here.

King. By my troth, I will ſpeake my conſcience of the

King: I thinke hee would not with hinaſſe any where,
but where hee is.

Bates. Then I would he were here alone; ſo ſhould he be
fure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues ſued.

King. I dare ſay, you loue him not so ill, to with him
here alone: howeuer you ſpeake this to ſeue other
mens minds, me thinks I could not dye any where ſo cea-
tented, as in the Kings company; his Caufe being iuſt, and
his Quarrell honorable.

Williams. That's more then we know.

Bates. I, or more then we ſhould ſeeke afters, for we
know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subieſts:
if his Caufe be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes
the Cryme of it out of vs.

Williams. But if the Caufe be not good, the King him-
felfe hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all the
Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile,
fall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all. Wee dy-
ed at ſuch a place, ſome ſwearing, ſome crying for a Su-
gean; ſome vpon their Wives, left poore behind them;
ſome vpon the Debts they owe, ſome vpon their Children
rawly left: I am aſtear'd, there are ſew dye well, that dye
in a Battaile: for how can they charitably diſpofe of any
thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if the men
doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King,
that led them to it; who to diſobey, were againſt all pro-
portion of ſubjection.

King. So, if a Sonne that is by his Father ſent about
Merchandize, doe finfully miſcarv vpon the Sea: the im-
puration of the wickedneſſe, by your rule, ſhould be im-
poſed vpon his Father that ſent him: or if a Saſtant, va-
der his Maſlers command, transporting a ſumme of Mo-
ney, be affayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil'd
Iniquities; you may call the buſineſſe of the Maſter
author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not to
The King is not bound to anſwer the particular endings
of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Maſter
of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when
they purpose their ſeruices. Befides, there is no King, be
his Caufe neuer ſo ſpottedleſſe, if it come to the arbitre-
ment of Swords, can trye it out with all vnſported Soul-
diers: ſome (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of
premeditated and contriued Murther; ſome, of beguil-
ling Virgins with the broken Scales of Periurie; ſome,
making the Warres their Sulwarke, that haue before go-
red the gentle Boſome of Peace with Pillage and Robbe-
rie. Now, if theſe men haue defeated the Law, and our-
runne Națione puſnifhment; though they can out-flip
men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is
his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: ſo that here men
are puniſht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in
now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death,
they haue borne life away: and where they would bee
ſafe, they periſh. Then if they dye vnprovided, no more
is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was be-
fore guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are
now viſited. Eueru Subieſts Dutie is the Kings, but
eueru Subieſts Soule is his owne. Therefore ſhould
eueru Souldier in the Warres doe as euery ſicke man in
his Bed, wath euery Moth out of his Conſcienc: and
dying ſo, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying
the time was bleſſedly loſt, wherein ſuch preparation was
gayned: and in him that eſcapes, it were not finne to
thinke, that making God ſo free an offer, he let him out-
line that day, to fee his Greatneſſe, and to teach others
how they ſhould prepare.

1518. Tis

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

85

Will. 'Tis certaine, euery man that dyes ill, the ill vpon
his owne head, the King is not to answer it.

Bates. I do not desire hee should answer for me, and
yet I determine to fight luftily for him.

King. I my selfe heard the King fay he would not be
ransom'd.

Will. I, hee said so, to make vs fight chearefully : but
when our throats are cut, hee may be ransom'd, and wee
ne're the wiser.

King. If I lie to see it, I will neuer truſt his word after.

Will. You pay him then: that's a perilous ſhot out
of an Elder Gunne, that a poore and a priuate diſpleaftre
can doe againſt a Monarch: you may as weil goe about
to tume the Sunne to yce, with ſanning in his face with a
Peacockes feather: You'le neuer truſt his word after;
com'e, vis a foolſh faying.

King. Your reproof is something too round, I should
be angry with you, if the time were convenient.

Will. Let it bee a Quarrell betweene vs, if you lie.

King. I embrace it.

Will. How shall I know thee againe?

King. Giue me any Gage of thine, and I will weare it
in my Bonnet: Then if euer thou dar't acknowledge it,
I will make it my Quarrell.

Will. Heere's my Gloue: Giue mee another of
thine.

King. There.

Will. This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou
come to me, and lay, after to morrow, This is my Gloue,
by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eare.

King. If euer I lie to see it, I will challenge it.

Will. Thou dar't as well be hang'd.

King. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the
King's companie.

Will. Keepe thy word: fare thee well.

Bates. Befriends you English fooles, be friends, wee
have French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to rec-
kon. Exit Souldiers.

King. Indeede the French may lay twentie French
Crownes to one, they will beat vs, for they beare them
on their shoulders: but it is no English Treason to cut
French Crownes, and to morrow the King himselfe will
be a Clipper.

Vpon the King, let vs our Liues, our Soules,

Our Debts, our carefull Wiues,

Our Children, and our Sinnes, lay on the King:

We muſt beare all.

O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatneſſe,

Subieſt to the breach of euery foole, whose ſence
No more can feele, but his owne wringing.

What infinite hearts-eaſe muſt Kings neglect,
That private men enioy?

And what haue Kings, that Priuates have not too,

Sau'd Ceremonie, faue generall Ceremonie?

And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?

What kind of God art thou? that ſuffer it more

Of mortall griefes, then doe thy worſhippers.

What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?

O Ceremonie, ſhew me but thy worth.

What? is thy Soule of Odoration?

Are thou ought eſſe but Place, Degree, and Forme,

Creating awe and feare in other men?

Wherein thou art leſſe happy, being fear'd,
Then they in fearing.

What drink it thou oft, in stead of Homage ſweer,
But poyſon'd flatterie? O, be ſtck, great Greatneſſe,

And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.

Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe out

With Titles blowne from Adulation?

Will it give place to ſlexure and low bending?

Canſt thou, when thou command'st the beggers knee,

Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,

That play'ſt ſo ſubtilly with a Kings Repofe.

I am a King that find thee: and I know,

'Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,

The Sword, the Mafe, the Crowne Imperiall,

The enter-tiſſued Robe of Gold and Pearle,

The farſed Title running'fore the King,

The Throne he fits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,

That beates vpon the high ſhore of this World:

No, not all theſe, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;

Not all theſe, lay'd in Bed Maieſticall,

Can ſleepe ſo foundly, as the wretched Slaue:

Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,

Gets him to reſt, cram'd with diſtreſſe full bread,

Neuer ſees horride Night, the Child of Hell:

But like a Lacquey, from the Rife to Set,

Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all Night

Sleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,

Doth rife and helpe Hiperio to his Horſe,

And followes ſo the euer-running yeere

With profitable labour to his Graue:

And but for Ceremonie, ſuch a Wretch,

Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with ſleepe,

Had the ſore-hand and vantage of a King.

The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,

Enioyes it; but in groſſe braine little wots,

What watch the King keepes, to mainſtaine the peace;

Whose howres, the Pefant beſt aduantages.

### Enter Erpingham.

Erp. My Lord, your Nobles zealous of your absence,
Seeke through your Campe to find you.

King. Good old Knight, colleſt them all together

At my Tent: Ile be before thee.

Erp. I shall doo', my Lord.

Exit.

King. O God of Battalies, ſteele my Souldiers hearts,

Poffeſſe them not with ſeare: Take from them now

The ſence of reckning of th'oppoſed numbers:

Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,

O not to day, thinke not vpon the fault

My Father made, in compaſſing the Crowne.

I Richards body haue interred new,

And on it haue beſtowed more contrite teares,

Then from it ſiffued forced drops of blood.

Fiu'e hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,

Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold vp

Toward Heauen, to pardon blood:

And I haue built two Chautries,

Where the ſad and ſolemne Priefes ſing ſtill

For Richards Soule. More-will I doe:

Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;

Since that my Penitence comes after all,

Imploring pardon.

### Enter Glouceſter.

Gloue. My Liege.

King. My Brother Glouceſters voyce? I:

I know thy errand, I will goe with thee:

The day, my friend, and all things (ay) for me.

Exeunt.

Ent v

i 3

The Life of Henry the Fift.

Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs, and
Beaumont.

Orleance. The Sunne doth gild our Armour vp, my
Lords.

Dolph. Monte Chental: My Horse, Verlot Lacquay:
Ha,

Orleance. Oh braue Spirit.

Dolph. Via les ewes & terre.

Orleance. Rien puis le air & feu.

Dolph. Cein, Coulin Orleance.

Enter Constable.

Now my Lord Constable?

Conſt. Hearke how our Steedes, for preſent Seruice
neigh.

Dolph. Mount them, and make inciſion in their Hides,
That their hot blood may ſpin in English eyes,

And doubt them with ſuperfluous courage: ha.

Ram. What, will you haue them weep our Horſes blood?
How ſhall we then behold their naturall teares?

Enter Meſſenger.

Meffeng. The English are embattail'd, you French
Peeres.

Conſt. To Horſe you gallant Princes, ſtraight to Horſe.
Doe but behold yond poore and ſtarued Band,

And your faire ſhew shall fuck away their Soules,
Leauing them but the ſhales and huskes of men.

There is not worke enough for all our hands,
Scarce blood enough in all their ſickly Veines,

To giue each naked Curtleax a ſtayne,

That our French Gallants ſhall to day draw out,

And ſheath for lack of ſport. Let vs but blow on them,
The vapour of our Valour will o're-turne them.

'Tis politiue againſt all exceptions, Lords,

That our ſuperfluous Lacquies, and our Pefants,
Who in vnneceſſarie action ſwarne

About our Squares of Battaille, were enow

To purge this field of such a hilding Foe;

Though we vpon this Mountaines Bafis by,

Tooke ſtand for idle ſpeculation :

But that our Honours muſt not. What's to ſay ?

A very little little let vs doe,

And all is done : then let the Trumpets found

The Tucket Sonuance, and the Note to mount :

For our approach ſhall to much dare the field,

That England ſhall couch downe in feare, and yeeld.

Enter Grandpree.

Grandpree. Why do you ſtay ſo long, my Lords of France?
Yond Iland Carrions, desperate of their bones,

Ill-fauoredly become the Morning field :

Their ragged Curtaines poorly are let loose,

And our Ayre ſhakes them paſſing ſcornefully.

Bigge Mars ſeemes banqu'rout in their begger'd Hoaſt.
And faintly through a ruffie Beuer peepes.

The Horſemen fit like fixed Candleſlicks,

With Torch-ſtaues in their hand: and their poore Iades

Lob downe their heads, dropping the hides and hips :

The gumme downe roping from their pale-dead eyes,

And in their pale dull mouths the Iymold Bitt

Lyes foule with chaw'd-graffe, full and motionleſſe,

And their executors, the knauiſh Crowes,

Flye o're them all, impatient for their howre.

Deſcription cannot ſure it ſelfe in words,
To demonſtrate the Life of ſuch a Battaille,
In life ſo liuelleſſe, as it ſhe wes it ſelfe.

Conſt. They haue ſaid their prayers,

And they ſtay for death.

Dolph. Shall we goe ſend them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,

And giue their ſaſſing Horſes Prouender,
And after fight with them?

Conſt. I ſtay but for my Guard: on
To the field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,
And vſe it for my hafte. Come, come away,
The Sunne is high, and we out-weare the day.

Exeunt.

Enter Glouceſter, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham
with all his Hoaſt: Salisbury, and
Westmerland.

Gloue. Where is the King?

Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their Bat-
taille.

Wesf. Of fighting men they haue full threeſcore thou-
ſand.

Exe. There's ſiue to one, beſides they all are fresh.

Salisb. Gods Arme ſtrike with vs; 'tis a ſeaſe ſolde, God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:
If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;
Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,
My deare Lord Glouceſter, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind Kinſman, Warriors all, adieu.

Bedf. Farwell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee:
And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the ſirme truth of valour.

Exe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to day.

Bedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindneſſe,
Princely in both.

Enter the King.

Wesf. O that we now had here

But one ten thouſand of thofe men in England,
That doe no worke to day.

King. What's he that wifhes ſo ?

My Couſin Westmerland. No, my faire Couſin :

If we are markt to dye, we are enow

To doe our Countrey loffe: and if to liue,

The ſewer men, the greater ſhare of honour.

Gods will, 't pray thee with not one man more.

By Iose, I am not couetous for Gold,

Nor care I who doth feed upon my coſt :

It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare ;

Such outward things dwell not in my deſires.

But if it be a ſinne to couet Honor,

I am the moſt offending ſoule aliume.

No' faith, my Couze, wifh not a man from England:

Gods peace, I would not loffe ſo great an Honor,
As one man more me thinkes would ſhare from me,
For the beſt hope I haue. O, doe not wifh one more:
Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoaſt,

That he which hath no ſtomack to this fight,

Let him depart, his Paſport shall be made,

And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purſe :

We would not dye in that mans companie,

That ſeares his fellowship, to dye with vs.

This day is call'd the Feaſt of Crispian :

He that out-lies this day, and comes ſafe home,

Will ſtand a tip-toe when this day is named,

And rowſe him at the Name of Crispian,

He that shall fee this day, and liue old age,

Will yeerely on the Vigil ſeaſt his neighbours,

And ſay, to morrow is Saint Crispian.

Then will he ſtrip his ſleeke, and ſhew his skarres:

Old men forget; yet all ſhall be ſorgot :

But hee'le remember, with aduantaſes,

What ſeats he did that day. Then ſhall our Names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words,

Harry

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87

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his fonne :
And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
From this day to the ending of the World,
But we in it shall be remembred;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers :
For he to day that flues his blood with me,
Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,
This day shall gentle his Condition.
And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
Shall thinke the n'efues accur't they were not here;
And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.

Enter Salisbury.

Sat. My Soueraign Lord, be low your selfe with speed:
The French are brauly' in their battailes fet,
And will with all expedienc charge on vs.

King. All things are ready, if our minds be so.

Wife. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now.
King. Thou do'st not wifh more helpe from England,
Couze?

Wife. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,
Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile.

King. Why now thou haft vnwiſht flue thousand men:
Which likes me better, then to wifh vs one.

You know your places: God be with you all.

Tucket. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,
If thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
Before thy moſt affured Ouerthrow:

For certainly, thou art fo neere the Gulfe,
Thou needs muſt be englutted. Besides, in mercy

The Conſtable defires thee, thou wilt mind
Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre

From off the ſe fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies

Muffe y and fefter,

King. Who hath fent thee now ?

Mont. The Conſable of France.

King. I pray thee beare my former Anſwer back :
Did they atchare me, and then fell my bones.

Good God, why should they mocke poore fellowes thus ?
The man that once did fell the Lyons skin

While the beaſt liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.

A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
Find Native Graues: vpon the which, I truſt

Shall witteneſſe lue in Braſſe of this dayes worke.

And thofe that leaue their valiant bones in France,
Dying likemen, though buryed in your Dunghills,
They ſhall be fam'd: for there the Sun ſhall greet them,
And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,

The ſmell whereof ſhall breed a Plague in France.
Marke then abounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullets craſing,

Breake out into a ſecond course of miſchieſe,
Killing in relapſe of Mortalitie.
Let me ſpeake powdely: Tell the Conſtable,

We are but Warriors for the working day:
Our Gayneſſe and our Gilt are all beſmyrcht
With rayne Marching in the paineſull field.

There's not a piece of feather in our Hoaſt:
Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:

And time hath worne vs into ſlouenrie.

But by the Maſſe, our hearts are in the trim:

And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
They'le be in ſrefher Robes, or they will pluck
The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
And turne them out of ſeruice. If they doe this,
As if God pleafe, they ſhall; my Ransome then
Will ſoone be leuyed.

Herauld, ſaue thou thy labour :

Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
They ſhall haue none, I ſwere, but theſe my ioynts:
Which if they haue, as I will leaue vn them,
Shall yeeld them little, tell the Conſtable.

Mont. I ſhall, King Harry. And so fare thee well :
Thou neuer ſhalt beare Herauld any more.

Exeunt.

King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a
Ransome.

Enter Yorke.

Yorke. My Lord, moſt humbly on my knee I begge
The leading of the Vaward.

King. Take it, braue Yorke.

Now Souldiers march away,

And how thou pleafeſt God, diſpofe the day.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Excursions.

Enter Piftoll, French Souldier, Boy.

Pift. Yeeld Curre.

French. Ie poffe que vous eſſes le Gentilhome de bon qua-
liée.

Pift. Qualitie calmie culture me. Art thou a Gentleman? What is thy Name ? diſcuffe.

French. O Signeur Dieu.

Pift. O Signieur Dewe ſhould be a Gentleman: perpend my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur Dewe, thou dyſeſt on point of Fox, except O Signieur thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome.

French. O prennes miſerecordie aye pitez de moy.

Pift. Moy ſhall not ſerue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for I will fetch thy tymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of Crimſon blood.

French. Eſt il impoſſible d'eschapper le ſorce de ton bras.

Pift. Braſſe, Curre, thou damned and luxurious Moun-
taine Goat, offer'ſt me Braſſe?

French. O perdonne moy.

Pift. Say'ſt thou me ſo ? is that a Tonne of Moyes ?
Come hither boy, aske me this ſlaue in French what is his
Name.

Boy. Esoute comment eſſes vous appelle?

French. Mounſieur le Fer.

Boy. He fayes his Name is M. Fer.

Pift. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:
diſcuffe the fame in French vnto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and
firke.

Pift. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.

French. Que dit il Mounſieur ?

Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faitez vous preſſ, car ce ſoldat ily eſt diſpofee tout aſtire de coupes voſtre gorge.

Pift. Owy, cuppele gorge permaſoy pefant, vnleſſe
thou giue me Crownes, braue Crowneſor mangled ſhalt
thou be by this my Sword.

French. O Ie vous ſupplie pour l'amour de Dieu: ma par-
donner, Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie
vous donneray deux cent eſcus.

Pift. What are his words ?

Boy. He

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

Boy. He prayes you to faue his life, he is a Gentleman of a good houre, and for his ranfom he will giue you two hundred Crownes.

Pift. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crownes will take.

Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?

Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonder ame prifonner: neant-mens pour les efches que vous layt, pro- mets, il est content a vous donneres le liberte le franchiſement.

Fre. Sur mes genouſe ſe vous donnes milles remercious, et Ie me eſtimes heuſex que le intombe, entre ſes main, d'un Che- auſtier. Ie pende le plus braue valiant et tres diſtinſe ſignicur d'Angleterre.

Pift. Expound vnto me boy.

Boy. He gives you vpon his knees a thousand thanks, and he eſteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into the hands of one (as he thinkes) the moſt braue, valorous and thrice-worthy ſigneur of England.

Pift. As I fucke blood, I will fome mercy ſhew. Follow mee.

Boy. Saame vous le grand Capitaine

I did neuer know so full a voyce iſſue from so empty a heart: but the faying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest found, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie one may payre his nayles with a wooden dagger, and they are both hang'd, and ſo would this be, if hee durſt ſteale any thing aduenturouſly. I muſt stay with the Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might haue a good pray at vs, if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boyes.

Enter Conſtable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Ramburs.

Con. O Diable.

Orl. O figueur le iouer et perdid, toute et perdie.

Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,

Reproach, and eueralſting ſhame

Sits mocking in our Plumes.

A Short Alarum.

O meſchante Fortune, do not runne away.

Con. Why all our rankes are broke.

Dol. O perdurable ſhame, let's ſtab our ſlues :

Be theſe the wretches that we plaid at dice for?

Orl. Is this the King we ſent too, for his ranſome?

Bur. Shame, and eternall ſhame, nothing but ſhame, Let vs dye in once more backe againe, And he that will not follow Burbon now, Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand Like a baſe Pander hold the Chamber doore, Whiſt a baſe ſlaue, no gentler then my dogge, His faireſt daughter is contaminated.

Con. Disorder that hath ſpoyl'd vs, friend vs now,

Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liues.

Orl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field, To mother vp the English in our throngs, If any order might be thought vpon.

Bur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng; Let life be short, elde ſhame will be too long.

Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.

King. We ll have we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen, But all not done, yet keepe the French the field.

Exe. The D. of York commends him to your Maiely

King. Lines he good Vnckle: thrice within this houre I faw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting, From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he was.

Exe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye, Larding the plaine: and by his bloody ſide, (Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds) The Noble Earle of Suffolke albo lyes.

Suffolke firſt dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouer Comes to him, where in gore he lay infteeped, And takes him by the Beard, kiffes the gafhes That bloodily did yawne vpon his face.

He cryes aloud; Tarry my Coſin Suffolke, My ſoule shall thine keepe company to heauen: Tarry (ſweet ſoule) for mine, then flye a-breſt; As in this glorious and well-ſoughten field We kept together in our Chiualrie.

Vpon theſe words I came, and cheer'd him vp,

He (mil'd me in the face, raught me his hand, And with a feeble gripe, ſayes: Deere my Lord, Commend me ſeruice to my Soueraigne, So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes necke He threw his wounded arme, and kift his lippes, And fo eſpous'd to death, with blood he real'd A Teſtament of Noble-ending-loue:

The prettie and ſweet manner of it for'd Thofe waters from me, which I would haue ſtop'd, But I had not ſo much of man in mee, And all my mother came into mine eyes, And gaue me vp to teares.

The French haue re-enfore'd their ſcatTer'd men:

Then euery ſouldliour kill his Prifoners,

Giue the word through.

Alarum.

Exit.

## Actus Quartus.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expeſtly against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a piece of knaue-ry marke you now, as can bee ofſert in your Conſience now, is it not?

Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left alive, and the Cowardly Raſcalls that ranne from the battaille ha' done this ſlaughte: beſides they haue burned and carried a way all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King moſt worthily hath cauſ'd euery ſoldiour to cut his pri-ſoners throat. O'tis a gallant King.

Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower. What call you the Townes name where Alexander the pig was borne?

Gow. Alexander the Great.

Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the grear, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnani- mous, are all one recknings, faue the phraſe is a little va- riations.

Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne.

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89

porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant you fall finde in the comparifons betweene Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is come after in indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and his moodes, and his difpleatures, and his indignations, and alio being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend Chrys.

Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finishe'd. I speak but in the figures, and comparifions of it : as Alexander kill his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; fo also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his good judgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet: he was full of iefts, and gypes, and knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name.

Gow. Sir John Falstaffe.

Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne at Monmouth.

Gow. Heere comes his Maiefy.

Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Hourish.

King. I was not angry since I came to France, Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald, Ride thou vnto the Horfemen on yond hill: If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe, Or voyde the field: they do offend our fight. If they'l do neither, we will come to them, And make them sker away, as swift as stones Enforced from the old Afryian flings: Befides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue, And not a man of them that we shall take, Shall tafe our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Enter Montjoy.

Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege Glou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be.

King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowft thou not,

That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ranfome? Com't thou againe for ranfome?

Her. No great King.

I come to thee for charitable Licensc, That we may wander ore this bloody field, To booke our dead, and then to bury them, To fort our Nobles from our common men. For many of our Princes (woe the while) Lye drownd and foak'd in mercenary blood: So do our vulgar drench their peafant limbes In blood of Princes, and with wounded fleeds Free fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead mafers, Killing them twice. O give vs leaue great King, To view the field in safety, and difpofe Of their dead bodies.

Kin. I tell thee truly Herald, I know not if the day be ours or no, For yet a many of your horfemen peere, And gallop ore the field.

Her. The day is yours.

Kin. Praifed be God, and not our strength for it: What is this Castle call'd that flands hard by.

Her. They call it Agincourt.

King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't pleafe your Maiefy) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought a moft prae pattle here in France.

Kin. They did Fluellen.

Flu. Your Maiefy fayes very true: If your Maiefies is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good ſeruice in a Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their Monmouth caps, which your Maiefy know to this houre is an honourable badge of the ſeruice: And I do beleeue your Maiefy takes no ſcorne to weare the Leeke vppon S. Taies day.

King. I wear e it for a memorable honor: For I am Welch you know good Countriman. Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot waſh your Maiefies WELſh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that: God pleſe it, and preferue it, as long as it pleafes his Grace, and his Maiefy too.

Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen.

Flu. By Iefhu, I am your Maiefies Countreyman. I care not who know it: I will conſeſſe it to all the Orld, I need not to be aſhamed of your Maiefy, praifed be God ſo long as your Maiefy is an honest man.

King. Good keepe me fo.

Enter Williams.

Our Heralds go with him, Bring me iuſt notice of the numbers dead On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.

Exe. Souldier, you muſt come to the King.

Kin. Souldier, why wear't thou that Gloue in thy Cappe?

Will. And't pleafe your Maiefy, tis the gage of one that I should fight withall, if he be alue.

Kin. An Englishman?

Will. And't pleafe your Maiefy, a Rascall that ſwagget'd with me laſt night: who if alue, and euer dare to challenge this Gloue, I haue ſworne to take him a boxe a'th ere: or if I can fee my Gloue in his cappe, which he ſwore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if alue) I wil ſtrike it out foundly.

Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this ſouldier keepe his oath.

Flu. Hee is a Krauen and a Villaine elfe, and't pleafe your Maiefy in my confience.

King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of great fort quite from the anſwer of his degree.

Flu. Though he be as good a Gentleman as the diuel is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is neceflary (looke your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee bee periur'd (fee you now) his reputation is as arrant a villaine and a lacke fawce, as euer his blacke ſhoo trodd vppon Gods ground, and his earth, in my confience law

King. Then keepe thy vow firrah, when thou meet't the fellow.

Will. So, I wil my Liege, as I lieue.

King. Who feru't thou vnder?

Wil.

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

90

Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege.

Fla. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge and literatured in the Warres.

King. Call him hither to me, Souldier.

Will. I will my Liege.

Exit.

King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this faurour for me, and sicke it in thy Cappe: when Alanfon and my selfe were downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanfon, and an enemy to our Perfon; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou do'st me loue.

Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find him selfe agree'd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see it once, and pleafe God of his grace that I might see.

King. Knowst thou Gower?

Flu. He is my deare friend, and pleafe you.

King. Pray thee goe feeke him; and bring him to my Tent.

Flu. I will fetch him.

Exit.

King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster, Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.

The Gloue which I have giuen him for a faurour, May haply purchase him a box a'th'eare.

It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick.

If that the Souldier strike him, as I judge

By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;

Some sodaine miechiefe may arife of it: For I doe know Fluellen valiant,

And touch with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,

And quickly will returne an injurie.

Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.

Goe you with me, Vnkleck of Exeter.

Exeunt.

Enter Gower and Williams.

Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Gods will, and his pleafure, Captaine, I befeech you now, come apace to the King: there is more good toward you, peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to dreame of.

Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?

Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue,

Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.

Strikes him.

Fla. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuerfall World, or in France; or in England.

Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine.

Will. Doe you thinke He be forsworne?

Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treaſon his payment into plowes, I warrant you.

Will. I am no Traytor.

Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his Maieſtles Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke Alanſons.

Enter Warwick and Glouceſter.

Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter?

Fla. My Lord of Warwick, here he is, præyſed be God for it, a molte contagious Treaſon come to light, looke you, as you shall define in a Summers day. Heree is his Maieſtie. Enter King and Exeter.

King. How now, what's the matter?

Fla. My Liege, here is a Villaine, and a Traytor, that looke your Grace, ha's STROOKE the Gloue which

your Maieſtie is take out of the Helmer of Alonſon.

Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I have been a good as my word.

Flu. Your Maieſtie heare now, fauing your Maieſtles Manhood, what an arrant rafcaul, beggerly, lowlie Knaue it is: I hope your Maieſtie is peare me tefliimonie and witneſſe, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue of Alonſon, that your Maieſtie is giue me, in your Conſience now.

King. Giue me thy Gloue. Souldier;

Looke, here is the fellow of it:

'Twas I indeed thou promiſedst to strike, And thou haſt giuen me moſt bitter termes.

Fla. And pleafe your Maieſtie, let his Neck anſwere for it, if there is any Marſhall Law in the World.

King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?

Flu. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: meuer came any from mine, that might offend your Maieſtie.

King. It was our ſelſe thou didst abufe.

Flu. Your Maieſtie came not like your ſelſe: you appear'd to me, but as a common man: witneſſe the Night, your Garments, your Lowlineſtie: and what your Highneſſe ſuffer'd vnder that shape, I beſeech you take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you beene as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore I beſeech your Highneſſe pardon me.

King. Here Vnkleck Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes. And giue it to this fellow.

And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,

Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:

And Captaine, you muſt needs be friends with him.

Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and diffensions, and I warrant you it is the better for you.

Will. I will none of your Money.

Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will ſaue you to mend your ſhooes: come, wherefore should you be ſo pathfull, your ſhooes is not ſo good: 'tis a good filling I warrant you, or I will change it.

Enter Herald.

King. Now Herald, are the dead numbred?

Herald. Heere is the number of the flauaghred French.

King. What Prisoners of good fort are taken Vnkleck?

Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King. John Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchignaud.

Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires, Full fifteene hundred, beſides common men.

King. This Note doth tell me of ten thouſand French. That in the field lye flaine: of Princes in this number, And Nobles bearing Banbers, there lye dead.

One hundred twentie fix'd: added to these, Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen, Eight thouſand and foure hundred: of the which, Five hundred were but yesternay dubb'd Knights. So that in theſe ten thouſand they haue loſt.

There are but fixteene hundred Mercenaries:

The reſt are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

91

And Gentlemen of cloud and qualitie.

The Names of those their Nobles that lie dead:
Charles De la Breth, High Conftable of France,
Jules of Chatilion, Admirall of France,
The Maſter of the Croſſe-bowes, Lord Rambures,
Great Maſter of France, the braue Sir Guchard Dolphin,
John Duke of Alanfon, Anthonie Duke of Jabarant,
The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie,
And Edward Duke of Barr : of luſſie Earles,
Grandpree and Roinſie, Fauconbridge and Foyes,
Beaumont and Marle, Vandumont and Lefrale.

Here was a Royall fellowship of death.

Where is the number of our English dead?
Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke,
Sir Richard Ketly, Danie Gam Elfquire;
None eſſe of name: and of all other men,
But ſue and twentie.

O God, thy Arme was heere :

And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone,
Aſcribe we all: when, without ſtratagem,
But in plaine ſhock, and euen play of Battaile,
Was euer knowne ſo great and little loſſe?
On one part and on the other, take it God,
For it is none but thine.

Exeunt.

Kng. Come, goe me in proceſſe to the Village :
And be it death proclaymed through our Hoaſt,
To Boaſt of this, or take that prayle from God,
Which is his onely.

Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maieſtie, to tell how many is kill'd?

Kng. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowleſſement,
That God fought for vs.

Flu. Yes, my conſience, he did vs great good.

Kng. Doe we all holy Rights:
Let there be ſung Non nobis, and Te Deum,
The dead with charitie encloſ'd in Clay:
And then to Callice, and to England then,
Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Chorus.

Vouchſaſe to those that haue not read the Story,
That I may prompt them : and of ſuch as haue,
I humbly pray them to admit th'excufe
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life,
Be here preſented. Now we beare the King
Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there ſcene,
Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts,
Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach
Pales in the flood; with Men, Wives, and Boyes,
Whole ſhouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea,
Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King,
Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land,
And solemnly ſee him ſet on to London.
So Iwſt a pace hard. Thought, that euen now
You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath:
Where, that his Lords define him, to haue borne
His bruſed Helmet, and his bended Sword
Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it,

Being free from vain-neſſe, and ſelſe-glorious pride;
Gioing full Trophee, Signall, and Oſtent,
Quite from himſelſe, to God. But now behold,
In the quick Forge and working-houſe of Thought,
How London doth powre out her Citizens,
The Maior and all his Brethren in beſt ſort,
Like to the Senatours of th'antique Rome,
With the Plebeians ſwarming at their heeleſ,
Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Caſar in:
As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood,
Were now the Generall of our gracious Empreſſe,
As in good time he may, from Ireland comming,
Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword;
How many would the peacefull Citie quit,
To welcome him? much more, and much more cauſe,
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
As yet the lamentation of the French
Inuites the King of Englands ſlay at home:
The Emperour's comming in behaſe of France,
To order peace betweene them: and omit
All the occurrences, what euer chanct,
Till Harryes baſe returne againe to France:
There muſt we bring him; and my ſelſe haue play'd
The interim, by remembriing you'tis paſt.
Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance,
After your thoughts, ſtraight baſe againe to France.

Exeunt.

Enter Fluellans and Gower.

Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your
Leeke to day? S. Danies day is paſt.

Flu. There is occasions and cauſes why and wherefore
In all things: I will tell you aſſe my friend, Captaine
Gower; the rafcally, ſcauld, beggerly, lowſie, pragging
Knaue Piftoll, which you and your ſelſe, and all the World,
know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no
merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and
fault yefterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke:
it was in a place where I could not breed no contention
with him; but I will be ſo bold as to weare it in my Cap
till I fee him once againe, and then I will tell him a little
piece of my deſires.

Enter Piftoll.

Gower. Why heere hee comes, ſwelling like a Turky-
cock.

Flu. Tis no matter for his ſwellings, nor his Turky-
cocks. God pleſſe you aunchient Piftoll: you ſeuruie low-
fie Knaue, God pleſſe you.

Pift. Ha, art thou bedlam ? does't thou thirt, bafe
Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence;
I am qualmifh at the smell of Leeke.

Flu. I pefeech you heartily, ſeuruie lowſie Knaue, at
my deſires, and my requeſts, and my petitions, to eate,
looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not
Joue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your
ditgeſtions doo's not agree with it, I would deſire you
to eate it.

Pift. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats.

Flu. There is one Goat for you. Strikes him.
Will you be ſo good, ſcauld Knaue, as eate it?

Pift. Bafe Trojan, thou ſhalt dye.

Flu. You ſay very true, ſcauld Knaue, when Gods
will is: I will deſire you to liue in the meane time, and
eate your Viualts: come, there is ſawce for it. You
call'd me yefterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make
you

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if
you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke.

Gour. Enough Captaine,you haue aftonisht him.

Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke,
or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is
good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxacombe.

Pift. Must I bite.

Fla. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of question too, and ambiguities.

Pift. By this Leeke, I will moft horribly reuence I
eate and eate I sware.

Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauce
to your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sware by.

Pift. Quet thy Cudgell,thou doft see I eate.

Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay,
pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your
broken Coxcombe ; when you take occasions to see
Leekes hereereafter, I pray you mocke at ’em, that is all.

Pift. Good.

Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat to
heale your pate.

Pift. Mea gro at?

Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haue
another Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate.

Pift. I take thy groat in earneft of reuence.

Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels, you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels: God bu’y you, and keepe you, & heale your pate.

Pift. All hell shall stirre for this.

Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue,
will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vpon an
honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Tropee of
predecealed valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds
any of your words. I haue scene you gleeking & galling
at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, becaufe
he could not speake English in the native garb, he could
not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it o-
therwife, and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach
you a good English condition, fare ye well.

Pift. Doeth fortune play the hufwife with me now ?
Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i’th Spittle of a malady of France, and there my rendezvous is quite cut off:
Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is
Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to
Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and
there Ile steale:

And patches will I get,unto these cudgeld scarres,

And Iwoe I got them in the Gallia warres.

Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke,
and other Lords. At another, Queene Isabel,
the King, the Duke of Bourgongne, and
other French.

King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met;
Vnto our brother France, and to our Sifter

Health and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishes
To our moft faire and princely Cosine Katherine:

And as a branch and member of this Royalty,
By whom this great assembly is contriu’d,
We do falute you Duke of Burgogue,

And Princes French and Peeres health to you all.

Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face,
Moſt worthy brother England, fairely met,

So are you Princes (English) every one.

Quee. So happy be the Iſſue brother Ireland
Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,

As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
Your eyes which hitherto haue borne

In them againſt the French that met them in their bane,
The fatall Balls of murthering Bafliſes:

The venome of ſuch Lookes we fairely hope

Hauë loft their qualitie, and that this day

Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue.

Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare.

Quee. You English Princes all, I doe falte you.

Burg. My dutie to you both, on equal lque.

Great Kings of France and England: that I haue laboured
With all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuros,
To bring your moſt Imperiall Maiefiess

Vnto this Barre, and Royall interview;

Your Mightinesſe on both parts beſt can witneſſe.
Since then my Office hath ſo farre preuayl’d,

That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye,
You haue congreeted: let it not diſgrace me,

If I demand before this Royall view,
What Rub, or what Impediment there is,

Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace,
Deare Nourſe of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births,

Should not in this beſt Garden of the World,
Our fertile France, put vp her louely Viſage?

Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas’d,
And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes,
Corrupting in it owne fertilitie.

Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Vopruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach’d,
Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre,
Put forth disorder’d Twigs: her fallow Leas,
The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary,
Doth root vpon; while that the Culter ruſts,
That should deracinate ſuch Sauagery:

The euen Meade, that erſt brought fweetly forth
The freckled Cow ſlip. Burnet, and greene Clouer,
Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke;
Conceives by idlenſe, and nothing teemes,

But hatefull Dockets, rough Thifiles, Keckſyes, Burnes,
Loofing both beautitie and vilitie;

And all our Vincyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges,
Defecke in their natures, grow to wildneſſe.

Even ſo our Housſes, and our ſelues, and Children,
Haue loft, or doe not leane, for want of time,
The Sciences that should become our Countrey;

But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,
That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,

To Swearing, and ſterne Lookes, defus’d Artſtey,
And euery thing that feenes vn naturall.

Which to reduce into our former fauour,
You are asſembled: and my ſpeech entreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace

Should not expeſt these inconueniences,

And bleſſe vs with her former qualities.

Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,
Whole want gues growth to th’ imperfections

Which you have cited; you muſt buy that Peace
With full accord to all our iuſt demands,

Whole Tenures and particulars effects.

You haue encheuſed me’d briefly in your hands.

Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as for
There is no Aniver made.

Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before ſo vrg’d,
Lyes in his Anſwer.

France. 1

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

93

France. I have but with a curlfelarie eye
Ore-glanc't the Articles: Pleafeth your Grace
To appoint ſome of your Councell prefently
To ſit with vs once more, with better heed
To ſare them; we will suddenly
Dall our accept and peremptorie Anſwer.

England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter,
And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Glouſeffer,
and Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King,
And take with you free power, to ratifie,
Augment, or alter, as your Wifdomes beſt
Shall fee aduantageable for our Dignitie,
Anything in or out of our Demands,
And wee le configne thereto. Will you, faire Sifter,
Goe with the Princes, or ſtay here with vs?

Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them:
Happily a Womans Voyce may doe ſome good,
When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be ſtood on.

England. Yet leaue our Counſin Katherine here with vs,
She is our capitall Demand, compris'd
Within the fore-ranke of our Articles.

Quee. She hath good leaue.

Exeunt omnes.

Manet King and Katherine.

King. Faire Katherine, and moſt faire,

Will you vouchſaile to teach a Souldier tearmes,
Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare,

And pleade his. Loue ſuit to his gentle heart.

Kath. Your Maiestie ſhall mock at me, I cannot ſpeak
your England.

Kings. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me foundly
with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you con-
ſeile it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you
like me, Kate?

Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me.

Kings. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an
Angell.

Kath. Que dit il que ſe fuis ſemblable à les Anges?

Lady. Ouy ver payment (ſauff vostre Grace) ainsi dit il.

Kings. I laid fo; deare Katherine, and I muſt not bluſh
it affirme it.

Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes font plein de
tramperes.

Kings. What ſayes ſhe, faire one? that the tongues of
men are full of decitäts.

Lady. Ouy, dat de tongeus of de mans is be full of de-
ceits: dat is de Princeſſe.

Kings. The Princeſſe is the better English-woman:
faith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderſtanding, I am
glad thou canſt ſpeake no better English, for if thou
could ſt, thou wouldſt finde me ſuch a plaine King, that
thou wouldſt thinke, I had fold my Farme to buy my
Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but di-
rectly to ſay, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther,
then to ſay, Doe you in faith? I weare out my ſuite: Giue
me your anſwer, yfaith doe, and ſo clap hands, and a bar-
gaine: how ſay you, Lady?

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, me vnderſtand well.

Kings. Marry, if you would put me to Verſes, or to
Dance for your ſake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one
I have neither words nor meaſure; and for the other, I
have no ſtrength in meaſure, yet a reaſonable meaſure in
ſtrength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape, ſrogge, or by
vawing into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe;
under the correction of bragging be it ſpoken. I should
quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my

Loue, or bound my Horſe for her ſauours, I could lay on
like a Butcher, and fit like a lack an Apes, neuer off. But
before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaſpe out
my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in proteſation;
onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vſe till vrg'd,
nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canſt loue a fellow
of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-bur-
ning, that neuer looks in his Glaffe, for loue of any
thing he fees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I ſpeake
to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canſt loue me for this,
take me? if not? to ſay to thee that I ſhall dye, is true; but
for thy loue, by the L. No: yet I loue thee too. And
while thou liuſt, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and
vncoyned Conſtancie, for he perſorce muſt do thee right,
becauſe he hath not the giſt to wooe in other places: for
theſe ſellowes of inſin ſongue, that can ryme themſelues
into Ladyes ſauours, they doe alwayes reaſon themſelues
out againe. What? a ſpeaker is but a prater, a Ryme is
but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a ſtrait Backe will
ſtoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will
grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax
hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the
Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it
ſhines bright, and neuer changes, but keeps his courſe
truly. If thou would haue ſuch a one, take me? and
take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King.
And what ſayt thou then to my Loue? ſpeake my faire,
and fairely, I pray thee.

Kath. Is it poffible dat I ſould loue de ennemie of
Fraunce?

Kings. No, it is not poffible you should loue the En-
emie of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue
the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I
will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine:
and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours
is France, and you are mine.

Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat.

Kings. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am
ſure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife
about her Husbands Nocke, hardly to be ſhooke off; I
quand far le poffeffion de Fraunce, & quand vous aſte le po-
ſeffion de moy. (Let mee ſee, what then? Saint Dennis bee
my ſpeede.) Donc vostre eſt Fraunce, & vous eſſes mienne.
It is as eafie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to
ſpeake so much more French: I ſhall neuer moue thee in
French, vnleſſe it be to laugh at me.

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, le Francois que vous parleis, il
& melieus que l'Anglois le quel l'arvre.

Kings. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy ſpeaking of
my Tongue, and I thine, moſt truely faſtely, muſt
needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, dooſt
thou vnderſtand thus much English? Canſt thou loue
mee?

Kath. I cannot tell.

Kings. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile
aske them. Come, I know thou loueſt me: and at night,
when you come into your Cloſet, you'l question this
Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
her diſprayſe those parts in me, that you loue with your
heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather
gentle Princeſſe, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou
beest mine, Kate, as I haue a fauing Faith within me tells
me thou ſhalt: I get thee with skambling, and thou
muſt therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder:
Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint
George, compound a Boy, halſe French halſe English,
that

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

94

that shall goe to Constanthinople, and take the Turke, by
the Beard. Shall wee not? what sayt thou, my faire
Flower-de-Luce.

Kate. I do not know dat.

King. No'tis hereafter to know, but now to promife:
doe but now promife Kate, you will endeavour for your
French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie,
take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How anfwer
you, La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trefchier & deuin
deefle.

Kath. Your Maieſſee aue ſaſſe Frenche enough to
deceiue de moſt ſage Damoifeil dat is en Fraunce.

King. Now ſye vpon my ſalſe French: by mine Honor
in true Englifh, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare
not ſweare thou loueſt me, yet my blood begins to flat-
ter me, that thou dooſt; notwithstanding the poore and
vntempering effect of my Vifage. Now beſhrew my
Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres
when hee got me, therefore was I created with a flub-
borne outſide, with an aſpect of Iron, that when I come
to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the el-
der I wax, the better I ſhall appeare. My comfort is, that
Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more
ſpoyle vpon my Face. Thou haſt me, if thou haſt me, at
the worſt; and thou ſhalt weare me, if thou weare me,
better and better: and therefore tell me, moſt faire Ka-
therine, will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blufhes,
auchou the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of
an Empreſſe, take me by the Hand, and ſay, Harry of
England, I am thine: which Word thou haſt no ſooner
bleſſe mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, Eng-
land is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry
Plantaginet is thine; who, though I ſpeake it before his
Face, if he be not Fellow with the beſt King, thou haſt
finde the beſt King of Good-fellowes. Come your An-
fwer in broken Muſick; for thy Voyce is Muſick, and
thy Englifh broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine,
breake thy minde to me in broken Englifh; wilt thou
haue me?

Kath. Dat is as it ſhall pleafe de Roy mon pere.

King. Nay, it will pleafe him well, Kate; it shall pleafe
him, Kate.

Kath. Den it fall alſo content me.

King. Vpon that I kiffſe your Hand, and I call you my
Queene.

Kath. Laiſſe mon Seigneur, laiſſe, laiſſe, may ſay: I ne-
veuſ point que vous abbaſſe voſire grandeur, en baſſant le
main d'une nostre Seigneur indignie ſeruitetr excufe moy,
Ie vous ſupplie mon tref-puiffant Seigneur.

King. Then I will kiffſe your Lippes, Kate.

Kath. Les Dames & Damoifels pour eſtre baſſee devant
lour noſceme il net paſ le ſoſtume de Fraunce.

King. Madame, my Interpreter, what ſayes ſhee?

Lady. Dat it is not be de ſaſhion pour le Ladies of
Fraunce; I cannot tell wat is buiſſe en Anglifh.

King. To kiffſe.

Lady. Your Maieſſee entendre bettre que moy.

King. It is not a ſaſhion for the Maids in Fraunce to
kiffſe before they are married, would ſhe ſay?

Lady. Ouy verayment.

King. O Kate, nice Cuitomes curſe to great Kings,
Deare Kate, you and I cannot bee confin'd within the
weake Lyaſt of a Countreyes ſashion: wee are the ma-
mers of Manners, Kate; and the libertie that followes
our Places, ſtoppes the mouth of all ſinde-faults, as I
will doe yours, for vpholding the nice ſaſhion of your

Countrey, in denying me a Kiffſe: therefore patiently,
and yeedling. You haue WITCH-craft in your Lippes,
Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of
them, then in the Tongues of the French Councell; and
they should ſooner perſwade Harry of England, then a
generall Petition of Monarchs. Heere comes your
Father.

Enter the French Power, and the English
Lords.

Burg. God ſaue your Maieſſie, my Royall Couſin,
teach you our Princesſſe Englifh?

King. I would haue her learne, my faire Couſin, how
perſeetly I loue her, and that is good Englifh.

Burg. Is ſhee not apt?

King. Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condi-
ton is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyeor nor
the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot ſo coniure vp
the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true
likenſſe.

Burg. Pardon the frankneſſe of my mirth, if I anſwer
you for that. If you would coniure in her, you muſt
make a Circle: if coniure vp Loue in her in his true
likenſſe, hee muſt appeare naked, and blinde. Can you
blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd ouer with the
Virgin Crimſon of Modetie, if ſhee deny the appearance
of a naked blinde Boy in her naked ſeeing ſelfe? It were
(my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to conſign
to.

King. Yet they doe winke and yeeld, as Loue is blind
and enforces.

Burg. They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they ſee
not what they doe.

King. Then good my Lord, teach your Couſin to
conſent winking.

Burg. I will winke on her to conſent, my Lord, if you
will teach her to know my meaning: for Maids well
Summer'd, and warme kept, are like Flyes at Bartholo-
mew'tyde, blinde, though they haue their eyes, and then
they will endure handling, which before would not abide
looking on.

King. This Morall tyes me ouer to Time, and a hot
Summer; and so I ſhall catch the Flye, your Couſin, in
the latter end, and ſhee muſt be blinde to.

Burg. As Loue is my Lord, before it loues.

King. It is so: and you may, ſome of you, thank
Loue for my blindneſſe, who cannot ſee many a faire
French Citie for one faire French Maid that stands in my
way.

French King. Yes my Lord, you ſee them perſpe-
tively: the Cities turn'd into a Maid; for they are
all gyrdied with Maiden Walls, that Warre hath en-
tred.

England. Shall Kate be my Wife?

France. So pleafe you.

England. I am content, so the Maiden Cities you
talk of, may wait on her: so the Maid that flood in
the way for my Wifh, shall ſhow me the way to my
Will.

France. Wee haue conſented to all tearmes of re-
ſon.

England. Is't so, my Lords of England?

West. The King hath graunted every Article:
His Daughter first; and in ſeque, all,
According to their firme propofed natures.

Exet. Onteles

The Life of Henry the Fifth.

95

Exe. Only he hath not yet subscribed this :

Where your Maiestie demands, That the King of France
having any occasion to write for matter of Graunt, shall
name your Highnesse in this forme, and with this additi-
on, in French: Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre
Herefter de France: and thus in Latine: Proclarissimus
Edimus noster Henricus Rex Anglia & Heres Francie.

France. Nor this I haue not Brother so deny'd,
But your request shall make me let it paffe.

England. I pray you then, in loue and deare allyance,
Let that one Article ranke with the rest,
And thereupon giue me your Daughter.

France. Take her faire Sonne, and from her blood rayſe vp
Tlue to me, that the contending Kingdomes
Of France and England, whoſe very ſhoes looke pale,
With enuy of each others happineſſe,

May create their hatred; and this deare Coniunction
Plant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accord
In their sweet Bofomes: that neuer Warre aduance
His bleeding Sword 'twixt England and faire France.

Lords. Amen.

Kng. Now welcome Kate: and beare me witneſſe all,
That here I kiffc her as my Soueraigne Queene.

Flourish.

Que. God, the best maker of all Marriages,
Combine your hearts in one, your Realme in one :
As Man and Wife being two, are one in lone,
So be there 'twixt your Kingdomes ſuch a Spouseall,
That neuer may ill Office, or fell Icalouſe,

Which troubles oft the Bed of bleſſed Marriage,
Thrust in betweene the Pation of these Kingdomes,
To make divorce of their incorporate League:
That English may as French, French Englifhmen,
Receiue each other. God speake this Amen.

All. Amen.

King. Prepare we for our Marriage : on which day,
My Lord of Burgundy wee'le take your Oath
And all the Peeres, for furetie of our Leagues.

Then shall I weare to Kate, and you to me,
And may our Oathes well kept and prop'rous be.

Seret.

Exeunt.

Enter Chorms.

Thus farre with rough, and all-vnable Pen,
Our bending Author hath purſu'd the Story,
In little roome confining mightie men,
Mangling by ſtarts the full course of their glory.

Small time: but in that small, moſt greatly liued
This Starre of England, Fortune made his Swords.

By which the Worlds beſt Garden he atchieued :
And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord.

Henry the Sixt, in Infant Bands crown'd King
Of France and England, did this King succeed:

Whose State so many had the managing,

That they loft France, and made his England bleed:

Which oft our Stage hath ſhowne; and for their sake,
In your faire minds let this acceptance take.

FINIS.

k2

The

96

The first Part of Henry the Sixt.

Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.

Dead March.

Enter the Funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloster, Protector; the Duke of Exeter Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset.

Bedford.

Vng hey heavens with black, yield day to night;
Comets importing change of Times and States,
Brandish your crytali Treffes in the Skie,
And with them Icourage the bad reuolting Stars,
That haue contented vnto Henries death :
King Henry the Fifth, too famous to liue long,
England ne're lost a King of so much worth.

Gloster. England ne're had a King vntill his time:
Vertue he had, deferuing to command,
His brandifht Sword did blinde men with his beames,
His Armes spred wider then a Dragons Wings:
His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathfull fire,
More hazled and droue back his Enemies,
Then mid-day Sunne, fierce bent against their faces.
What should I fay? his Deeds exceed all speech:
He ne're lift vp his Hand, but conquered.

Exe. We mourne in black, why mourn we not in blood?
Henry is dead, and neuer shall reuiue:
Vpon a Wooden Coffin we attend;
And Deaths dishonourable Vistrie,
We with our flately prefence glorife,
Like Captiues bound to a Triumphant Carre.
What? shall we curfe the Planets of Misp hap,
That plotted thus our Glories ouerthrow?
Or shall we thinke the subtile, witted French,
Coniurers and Sorcereis, that afraid of him,
By Magick Verſes haue contriu'd his end.

Winch. He was a King, bleſt of the King of Kings.
Vnto the French, the dreadfull Iudgement-Day
So dreadfull will not be, as was his fight.
The Battailles of the Lord of Hoffs he fought:
The Churches Prayers made him so profouser.

Gloster. The Church? where is it?
Had not Church-men pray'd,
His thred of Life had not so loose decay'd.
None do you like, but an effeminate Prince,
Whom like a Schoole-boy you may ouer-awe.
Hath Gloster, what ere we like, thou art Protector,
And tookt to command the Prince and Realme;
Thy Wife is prowd, the holdeth thee in awe,
More then God or Religious Church-men may.

Gloster. Name not Religion, for thou louſt the Fleſh,
And ne're throughout the yeere to Church thou goſt,
Except it be to pray againſt thy foes.
Bed. Ceafe, ceafe these Larres, & reſt your minds in peace:
Let's to the Altar: Heralds wayt on vs;
In ſtead of Gold, we e're offer vp our Armes,
Since Armes atuay not now that Henry's dead,
Poſteritie await for wretched yeeres,
When at their Mothers moſtified eyes, Babes ſhall ſuck,
Our lie be made a Nourish of salt Teares,
And none but Women left to wayle the dead,
Henry the Fifth, thy Ghoſt I inuocate:
Proſper this Realme, keepe it from Ciuill Broyles,
Combat with aduerſe Planets in the Heauens;
A farre more glorious Starre thy Soule will make,
Then Julius Caesar, or bright----

Enter a Meſſenger.

Melf. My honourable Lords, health to you all:
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loſſe, of ſlaughter, and diſcomſiture:
Guyen, Champaigne, Rheimes, Odeance,
Paris Guytors, Poictiers, are all quite loſſ.

Bedf. What fay'ft thou man, before dead Henry's Coarſt
Speake toſtly, or the loſſe of thofe great Townes
Will make him burſt his Lead, and rife from death.

Gloſt. Is Paris loſſ? is Roan yeelded vp?
If Henry were recall'd to life againe,
Theſe news would cauſe him once more yeeld the Ghoſt.
Exe. How were they loſſ what trecherie was vs'd
Melf. No trecherie, but want of Men and Money.
Amongst the Souldiers this is muttered,
That here you maintaine ſeueral Factions:
And whilſt a Field ſhould be dispatcht and ſought,
You are disputing of your Generals,

One would haue lingring Warres, with little coſt;
Another would flye ſwift, but wanteth Wings:
A third thinkes, without expence at all,
By guilefull faire words, Peace may be obtray'n'd.
Awake, awake, English Nobilitie,
Let not ſlouth dimme your Honors, new begot;
Cropt are the Flower-de-Luces in your Armes
Of Englands Coat, one halſe is cut away.

Exe. Were our Teares wanting to this Funeral,
Theſe Tidings would call forth her flowing Tides.

Bedf. Me they concerne, Regent I am of France:
Gie me my ſteeled Coat, Ile fight for France.
Away with theſe diſgracefull wayling Robes;
Wounds will I lend the French, in ſtead of Eyes,
To weepe their intermiſſiue Miſeries.

Enter to them another Messenger.

Messrs. Lords view these Letters, full of bad mischance.
France is reuolted from the Englishl quite,
Except some petty Townes, of no import.

The Dolphin Charles is crowned King in Rheimes:
The Baftard of Orleance with him is ioynd not:
Reynald, Duke of Aniou, doth take his part,
The Duke of Alanfon flyeth to his fide.

Exit.
Eve. The Dolphin crown'd King? all flye to him?
O whither shall we flye from this reproach?

Gloster. We will not flye, but to our enemies throats.
Bridford, it thou be flacke, Ile fight it out.

Bd. Gloster, why doubtft thou of my forwardneſſe?
An Army haue I muſt'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is ouer-run.

Enter another Messenger.

Mons. My gracious Lords, to adde to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew King Henrys hearte,
I moſt informe you of a diſmall fight,
Bewixt the float Lord Talbot, and the French,
Win. What? wherein Talbot ouercame, is't to?

3. Messrs. Ono: wherein Lord Talbot was o'rethrown:

The circumference Ile tell you more at large.

The tenth of Auguſt laſt, this dreadfull Lord,

Beying from the Siege of Orleance,

Having full fearce ſix thouſand in his troupe,

By three and twentie thouſand of the French

Was round incompaſſed, and ſet vpon:

No leyſure had he to enranke his men.

He wanted Pikes to ſet before his Archers:

Inread whereof, ſharpe Stakes pluckt out of Hedges

They pitched in the ground confusely,

To keepe the Horſemen off, from breaking in.

More then three hours the fight continued:

Where valiant Talbot, aboue humane thought,

Enacted wonders with his Sword and Lance.

Hundreds he ſent to Hell, and none durſt ſtand him:

Here, there, and euery where enrag'd, he flew.

The French exclaym'd, the Deuill was in Armes,

All the whole Army ſlood agaz'd on him.

His Souldiers ſpying his vndaunted Spirit,

A Talbot, a Talbot, cry'd out amaine,

And rulſt into the Bowels of the Battaille.

Here had the Conqueſt fully been feal'd vp,

If Sir John Falſaſſe had not play'd Coward.

He being in the Vauward, plaſt behind,

With purpose to relieve and follow them,

Cowardly ſled, not having ftruck one ſtoake.

Hence grew the generall wrack and maſſacre:

Enclod ſt where they with their Enemies.

A bare Wallon, to win the Dolphins grace,

T爾ſt Talbot with a Speare into the Back,

Whom all France, with their chieſe ſſembled ſtrength,

Durſt not preſume to looke once in the face.

Bd. Is Talbot ſaine then? I will ſlay my ſelfe,

For living idly here, in pompe and eafe,

Whilſt ſuch a worthy Leader, wanting ayd,

Vno his daſtard foe-men is betray'd.

3. Messrs. Ono, he lives, but is tooke Prifoner,
And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerſond:

Moft of the reſt ſlaughter'd, or tooke likewife.

Bd. His Ranſome there is none but I ſhall pay.

He hale the Dolphin headlong from his Throre,

His Crowne ſhall be the Ranſome of my friend:

Foue of their Lords Ile change for one of ours.

Farwell my Maſters, to my Taske will I,

Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,

To keepe our great Saint Georges Feaſt withall.

Ten thouſand Souldiers with me I will take,

Whofe bloody deeds ſhall make all Europe quake.

3. Messrs. So you had need, for Orleance is beſieg'd,
The Englishl Army is growne weake and faint:

The Earle of Salisbury craueth ſupply,

And hardly keepes his men from mutinie,

Since they ſo few, watch ſuch a multitude.

Exe. Remember Lords your Oathes to Henry ſworne:
Eyther to quell the Dolphin vitterly,
Or bring him in obedience to your yoake.

Bd. I doe remember it, and here take my leaue,
To goe about my preparation.

Gloſt. Ile to the Tower with all the haſt I can,

To view th Artillerie and Munition,

And then I will proclayme young Henry King.

Exit Gloſter.

Exe. To Eltam will I, where the young King is,
Being ordayn'd his ſpeciall Gouernor,
And for his ſaſetie there Ile beſt deuife.

Exit.

Winch. Each hath his Place and Function to attend:
I am left out; for me nothing remains:
But long I will not be Jack out of Office.
The King from Eltam I intend to ſend,
And fit at chiefeft Sterne of publique Weale.

Exit.

Sound a Flourish.

Enter Charles, Alanſon, and Reaigneir, marching
with Drum and Souldiers.

Charles. Mars his true mouing, euen as in the Heauens,
So in the Earth, to this day is not knowne.

Late did he ſhine vpon the Englishl ſide:

Now we are Vjſtors, vpon vs he ſmiles.

What Townes of any moment, but we haue?

At pleasure here we lye, neere Orleance:

Otherwhiles, the famiſht Englishl, like pale Ghoſts,

Faintly beſiege vs one houre in a moneth.

Alan. They want their Porredge, & their fat Bul Beeues:

Eyther they muſt be dyeted like Mules,

And haue their Prouender ty'd to their mouthes,

Or pitteous they will looke, like drowned Mice.

Reaigneir, Let's rayſe the Siege: why lieue we idly here?

Talbot is taken, whom we want to ſeare:

Remayneth none but mad-brayn'd Salisbury,

And he may well in fretting ſpend his gall,

Nor men nor Money hath he to make Warre.

Charles. Sound, found Alarum, we will rulſh on them.

Now for the honour of the forlorne French:

Him I forgiue my death, that killeth me,

When he fees me goe back one foot, or flye.

Exeunt.
Here Alarum, they are beaten back by the
English, with great laſſe.

Enter Charles, Alanſon, and Reaigneir.

Charles. Who euer ſaw the like? what men haue I?
Dogges, Cowards, Daſtards: I would ne're haue ſled,
But that they left me midſt my Enemies.

Reaigneir. Salisbury is a deſperate Homicide,
He fighteth as one weary of his life:
The other Lords, like Lyons wanting ſoode,
Doe rulſh vpon vs as their hungry prey.

Alanſ. Froy-

k 3

98

Alanfon. Proulard, a Countreyman of ours, records,
England all Oliers and Rowlands breed,
During the time Edward the third did raigne:
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samfons and Goliaffes
It fendeth forth to skirmith: one to tenne?
Leane raw-bon'd Rafcals, who would e're suppofe,
They had fuch courage and audacitie?

Charles. Let's leauethis Towne,
For they are hayre-brayn'd Slaues,
And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:
Of old I know them; rather with their Teeth
The Walls they'le teare downe,then forfake the Siege.

Reigneir. I thinke by fome odde Gimmors or Deuice Their Armes are fet,like Clocks,still to ſtrike on;
Elle ne're could they hold out so as they doe:
By my conſent, wee'le euen let them alone.

Alanfon. Be it so.

Enter the Baſtard of Orleance.

Baſtard. Where's the Prince Dolphin? I haue newes for him.

Dolph. Baſtard of Orleance,thrice welcome to vs,
Baſt. Me thinks your looks are fad,your chear appa'd.
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?

Be not difmay'd, for ſuccur is at hand:
A holy Maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a Vifion ſent to her from Heauen,
Ordayned is to rayſe this tedious Siege,
And drive the English forth the bounds of France:
The ſpirit of deepe Prophecie ſhe hath,
Exceeding the nine Sibyls of old Rome:
What's paſt,and what's to come, ſhe can deftry.
Speake, ſhall I call her in? beleeue my words,
For they are certaine, and vnfallible.

Dolph. Goe call her in: but firſt, to try her skill,
Reigneir ſtand thou as Dolphin in my place;
Question her proudly,let thy Lookes be ſterne,
By this meanes ſhall we found what skill ſhe hath.

Enter Ioane Puzel.

Reigneir. Faire Maid, is't thou wilt doe these won-
drous feats?

Puzel. Reigneir, is't thou that thinkeſt to beguile me?
Where is the Dolphin? Come, come from behinde,
I know thee well,though neuer feene before.

Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me;
In private will I talke with thee apart:
Stand back you Lords,and giue vs leaua a while.

Reigneir. She takes vpon her braulye at firſt daſh.

Puzel. Dolphin, I am by birth a Shepheards Daughter,
My wit vntrayn'd in any kind of Art:
Heauen and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd
To ſhine on my contemptible eſtate.

Loe,whileſt I wayted on my tender Lambes,
And to Sunnes parching heat display'd my cheekes,
Gods Mother designed to appeare to me,
And in a Vifion full of Maieſtie,
Will'd me to leau me my bafe Vocation,
And free my Countrie from Calamitie:

Loe, whileſt I wayted on my tender Lambes,
And to Sunnes parching heat display'd my cheekes,
Gods Mother designed to appeare to me,
And in a Vifion full of Maieſtie,
Will'd me to leau me my bafe Vocation,
And free my Countrie from Calamitie:

And free my Countrie from Calamitie:
Her ayde ſhe promis'd, and affur'd ſucceſſe.
In compleat Glory ſhee reueal'd her ſelfe:
And whereas I was black and ſwart before,
With those cleare Rayes, which ſhee infus'd on me,
That beautie am I bleſt with, which you may ſee.

Alanfon. Leauë off delays, and let vs rayſe the
Siege.

Aske me what queſtion thou canſt poffible,
And I will anſwer vnpremeditated:
My Courage trie by Combat,if thou dar'ſt,
And thou ſhalt finde that I exceed my Sex,
Reſolue on this,thou ſhalt be fortunate,
If thou receiue me for thy Warlike Mate.

Dolph. Thou haſt aftonſiſt me with thy high termes:
Onely this proofe Ile of thy Valour make,
In ſingle Combat thou ſhalt buckle with me;
And if thou vanquiſheſt, thy words are true,
Otherwife I renounce all confidence.

Puzel. I am prepar'd: here is my keene-ede'd Sword,
Deckt with fine Flower-de-Luces on each ſide,
The which at Touraine,in S. Katherines Church-yard,
Out of a great deale of old Iron, I choſe forth.

Dolph. Then come a God's name, I ſeare no woman,
Puzel. And while I lie, Ile ne're flye from a man.

Here they fight, and Ioane de Puzel ouercomes.

Dolph. Stay, ſtay thy hands, thou art an Amazon,
And fighteſt with the Sword of Debora.

Puzel. Chriſts Mother helpes me, eſſe I were too
weake.

Dolph. Who e're helps thee,'tis thou that muſt help me:
Impatiently I burne with thy defire,
My heart and hands thou haſt at once ſubdu'd,
Excellent Puzel, if thy name be ſo,

Let me thy ſeruant, and not Soueraigne be,
'Tis the French Dolphin ſueth to thee thus.

Puzel. I muſt not yeel to any rights of Loue,
For my Proſeption's ſacred from abone:
When I haue chafed all thy Foes from hence,
Then will I thinke vpon a recompence.

Dolph. Meane time looke gracious on thy poffraute
Thrall.

Reigneir. My Lord me thinkes is very long in talke.

Alanſ. Doubtleſſe he ſhriues this woman to her Imock.
Elle ne're could he ſo long protraſt his ſpeech.

Reigneir. Shall wee diſturb him, ſince hee keepeſ no
meane?

Alan. He may meane more then we poor men do know,
These women are ſhrewd tempters with their tongues.

Reigneir. My Lord, where are you? what deuife you on?
Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no?

Puzel. Why no, I ſay: diſtrefuſt full Recreants,
Fight till the laſt gaſpe: Ile be your guard.

Dolph. What ſhee ſayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight it out.

Puzel. Aſſign'd am I to be the English Scourge,
This night the Siege affuredly I ſay:
Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halyons dayes,
Since I haue entred into theſe Warres.

Glory is like a Circle in the Water,
Which neuer ceaſeth to enlarge it ſelfe,
Till by broad ſpreading, it diſperſe to naught.
With Henries death, the English Circle ends,

Disperſed are the glories it included :
Now am I like that proude infulting Ship,
Which Caſar and his fortune bare at once.

Dolph. Was Mahomet inspired with a Doue?
Thou with an Eagle art inspired then.

Helen, the Mother of Great Conſtantine,
Nor yet S. Philips daughters were like thee.
Bright Starre of Venuſ, ſalne downe on the Earth,
How may I reuerently worſhip thee enough?

Alanſon. Leauë off delays, and let vs rayſe the
Siege.

Reigneir. Wo-

Reigneir. Wo-

Reign. Woman, do what thou canst to faue our honors,
Draw them from Orleance, and be immortaliz'd.
Drip. Preferntly wee'le try: come, let's away about it,
No Prophet will I truft, if shee proue falfe.
Exeunt.

Enter Gloster, with his Serving-men.

Gloster. I am come to fumney the Tower this day;
Since Henries death, I feare there is Conueyance:
Where be thefe Warders, that they wait not here?
Open the Gates, tis Glofter that calls.

1. Warder. Who's there, that knocks to imperiously ?
Gloster. 1. Man. It is the Noble Duke of Glofter.

2. Warder. Who ere he be, you may not be let in.

1. Man. Villaines, anfwer you to the Lord Protector?

1. Warder. The Lord proteft him, so we anſwer him,
We do no otherwife then wee are will'd.

Gloſt. Who willed you or whose will stands but mine?

There's none Protector of the Realme, but I:

Break vp the Gates, Ile be your warrantize;

Shall I be flowted thus by dunghill Groomes?

Gloſters men rubs at the Tower Gates, and Wooduile
the Lieutenant speaks within.

Wooduile. What noyle is this? what Traytors haue
wee here?

Gloſt. Lieutenant, is it you whole voyce I heare?

Open the Gates, here's Gloſter that would enter.

Wooduile. Hae patience Noble Duke, I may not open,
The Cardinall of Winchefter forbids :

From him I haue expreſſe commandement,
That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.

Gloſt. Faint-hearted Wooduile, prizeth him 'fore me?

Agrogant Winchefter, that haughtie Prelate,

Whom Henry our late Soueraigne ne're could brooke?

Thou art no friend to God, or to the King :

Open the Gates, or Ile but thee out shortly,

Servingmen. Open the Gates vnto the Lord Protector,
Or wee'le burſt them open, if that you come not quickly.

Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates, Winchefter
and his men in Tawney Coates.

Winchefter. How now ambitious Vmpheir, what meanes
this?

Gloſt. Piel'd Prieſt, doo'ſt thou command me to be
flour out?

Winch. I doe, thou moſt vflurping Prodiſor,
And not Protector of the King or Realme.

Gloſt. Stand back thou manifeſt Conſpirator,
That thou contrived it to further our dead Lord,
Thou that giuſt Whores Indulgences to finne,
Ile cauus thee in thy broad Cardinalls Hat,
If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

Winch. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot :
This be Damascus, be thou curied Cain,
To flay thy Brother Abel, if thou wilt.

Gloſt. I will not flay thee, but Ile drive thee back :
Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Childs bearing Cloth,
Ile vſe, to carry thee out of this place.

Winch. Doe what thou dar'ſt, I heard thee to thy
face.

Gloſt. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face?
Draw men, for all this privileged place,

Blew Coats to Tawny Coats, Prieſt, beware your Beard,
I meane to tugge it, and to cuſſe you foundly.
Vnder my feet I ſtampe thy Cardinalls Hat:

In spight of Pope, or dignities of Church,
Here by the Cheekes Ile drag thee vp and downe.

Winch. Gloſter, thou wilt anſwere this before the
Pope.

Gloſt. Winchefter Goofe, I cry, a Rope, a Rope.
Now beat them hence, why doe you let them flyt?
Thee Ile chafe hence, thou Wollie in Sheepes array.
Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite.

Here Gloſters men beat out the Cardinalls men,
and enter in the burly-burly the Maior
of London, and his Officers.

Maior. Fye Lords, that you being ſupreme Magiſtrates,
Thus contumeliouslly ſhould breake the Peace.

Gloſt. Peace Maior, thou know'ſt little of my wrongs:
Here's Beauford, that regards nor God nor King,
Hath here diſtray'n the Tower to his vfe.

Winch. Here's Gloſter, a Foe to Citizens,
One that ſtill motions Warre, and neuer Peace,
O're-charging your free Purſes with large Fines;
That keekes to ouerthrow Religion,
Because he is Protector of the Realme;

And would haue Armour here out of the Tower,
To Crowne himſelfe King, and ſuppreſſe the Prince.

Gloſt. I will not anſwer thee with words, but blowes,
Here they skirmish againe.

Maior. Naught reſts for me, in this tumultuous ſtrife,
But to make open Proclamation.

Come Officer, as lowd as e're thou canſt, cry :

All manner of men, assembled here in Armes this day,
againſt Gods Peace and the Kings, wee charge and command
you, in his Highneſſe Name, to repayre to your ſetter all dwell-
ing places, and not to weare, handle, or vſe any Sword, Wea-
pon, or Dagger hence-forward, upon pate of death.

Gloſt. Cardinall, Ile be no breaker of the Law:
But we ſhall meer, and breake our minds at large.

Winch. Gloſter, wee'le meet to thy coſt, be ſure:
Thy heart-blood I will haue for this dayes worke.

Maior, Ile call for Clubs, if you will not away:
This Cardinall's more haughtie then the Deuill.

Gloſt. Maior farewell: thou doo'ſt but what thou
may'ſt.

Winch. Abhominable Gloſter, guard thy Head,
For I intend to haue it ere long.

Maior. See the Coaſt clear'd, and then we will depart.
Good God, theſe Nobles ſhould ſuch ſtomacks beare,
I my ſelſe fight not once in fortie yeere.

Enter the Maſter Gunner of Orleance, and
his Boy.

M. Gunner. Sir, thou know'ſt how Orleance is beſieg'd,
And how the English haue the Suburbs wonne.

Boy. Father I know, and oft haue ſhot at them,
How e're vnforeunate, I miſ'd my ayme.

M. Gunner. But now thou ſhalt not. Be thou rul'd by me:
Chieſe Maſter Gunner am I of this Towne,
Something I muſt doe to procure me grace :
The Princes eſpyals haue informed me,
How the English, in the Suburbs close entrencht,
Went through a ſecret Grate of Iron Barres,
In yonder Tower, to ouer-peere the Citie,
And thence diſcouer, how with moſt aduantage
They may vex vs with Shot or with Aſſault.
To intercept this inconuenience,
A Peecce of Ordnance 'gainſt it. I haue plac'd,

And

100

And even these three dayes haue I watcht,
If I could fee them. Now doe thou watch,
For I can fly no longer.
If thou spy'ft any, runne and bring me word,
And thou fhalt finde me at the Gouernors.

Boy. Father, I warrant you, take you no care,
Ile neuer trouble you, if I may spye them.

Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the Turrets,
with others.

Salisb. Talbot, my life, my ioy, againe return'd?
How wert thou handled, being Prifoner?
Or by what meanes got's thou to be releas'd?
Discourfe I prethee on this Turrets top.

Talbot. The Earle of Bedford had a Prifoner,
Call'd the braue Lord Ponton de Santrayle,
For him was I exchang'd, and ranjom'd.
But with a bafer man of Armes by farre,
Once in contempt they would haue barter'd me :
Which I difdaining, ſcorn'd, and craued death,
Rather then I would be so pil'd eſteem'd:
In fine, redeem'd I was as I defir'd.
But O, the trecherous Falfeffe wounds my heart,
Whom with my barefts I would execute,
If I now had him brought into my power.

Salisb. Yet tell'ft thou not, how thou wert enter-
tain'd.

Tal. With ſcoffes and ſcornes, and contumelious taunts,
In open Market-place produc't they me,
To be a publique ſpectacle to all:
Here, ſayd they, is the Terror of the French,
The Scar-Crow that affrights our Children to.
Then broke I from the Officers that led me,
And with my nayles digg'd ſtones out of the ground,
To hurle at the beholders of my ſhame.

My grarily countenance made others flye,
None durſt come neere, for ſeare of ſuddaine death.
In Iron Walls they deem'd me not ſecure:
So great ſeare of my Name 'mongſt them were ſpread,
That they ſuppos'd I could rend Barres of Steele,
And ſpurne in pieces Poſts of Adamant.

Wherefore a guard of choſen Shot I had,
That walkt about me euery Minute while :
And if I did but ſtirre out of my Bed,

Ready they were to ihoot me to the heart.

Enter the Boy with a Linstock.

Salisb. I grieue to heare what torments you endur'd,
But we will be reueng'd ſufficiently.

Now it is Supper time in Orleance:
Here, through this Grate, I count each one,
And view the Frenchmen how they ſonſtive:
Let vs looke in, the fight will much delight thee:
Sit Thomas Gargrane, and Sir William Glanſdale,

Let me haue your expreſſe opinions,

Where is beſt place to make our Batt'ry next?
Gargrane. I thinke at the North Gate, for there stands
Lords.

Glanſdale. And I heere, at the Bulwarke of the
Bridge.

Talb. For ought I fee, this Citie muſt be famiſht,
Or with light Skirmiſhes enſeebled. Here they ſhot, and
Salisbury falls downe.

Salisb. O Lord haue mercy on vs, wretched finners.
Gargrane. O Lord haue mercy on me, wofull man,
Talb. What chance is this, that suddenly hath croſt vs?
Speake Salisbury; at least, if thou canſt, speake:

How far'ft thou, Mirror of all Martiall men?
One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheekes ſide ftruck off?
Accurſed Tower, accurſed fatall Hand,
That hath contriu'd this wofull Tragedie.

In thirteene Battailles, Salisbury ſ'ore came:

Henry the Fift he firſt trayn'd to the Warres,
Whil'ſt any Trumpe did ſound, or Drum ftruck vp,
His Sword did ne're leaue striking in the field.

Yet liuſt thou Salisbury? though thy ſpeech doth ſayle,
One Eye thou haſt to looke to Heauen for grace,
The Sunne with one Eye vieweth all the World,
Heauen be thou gracious to none aliume,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands.

Beare hence his Body, I will helpe to bury it.

Sit Thomas Gargrane, haſt thou any life?

Speake vnto Talbot, nay, looke vp to him.

Salisbury cheare thy Spirit with this comfort,
Thou ſhalt not dye whiles—

He beckens with his hand, and ſmiles on me:

As who should ſay, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to auenge me on the French.

Plantaginet I will, and like thee,

Play on the Lute, beholding the Townes burne:
Wretched ſhall France be onely in my Name.

Here an Alarum, and it Thunders and Lightens.

What ſtirre is this? what tumult's in the Heauens?
Whence commeth this Alarum, and the noyſe?

Enter a Meſſenger.

Meſſ. My Lord, my Lord, the French haue gather'd beaues
The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Puzel ioyn'd,
A holy Propheteſſe, new rifen vp,
Is come with a great Power, to rayſe the Siege.

Here Salisbury lifteth himselfe vp, and groans.

Talb. Heare, heare, how dying Salisbury doth groane,
It irkes his heart he cannot be reueng'd.

Frenchmen, Ile be a Salisbury to you.

Puzel or Puffel, Dolphin or Dog-ſiſh,

Your hearts Ile ſtampe out with my Horſes heeles,
And make a Quagmire of your mingled brains,
Conne ye me Salisbury into his Tent,

And then wee'le try what theſe daſtard Frenchmen dute.

Alarum. Exeunt.

Here an Alarum againe, and Talbot purſueth the Dolphin,
and drineth him: Then enter Ioane de Puzel,
driving Englishmen before her.

Then enter Talbot.

Talb. Where is my ſtrength, my valour, and my ſorce?
Our English Troupes retyre, I cannot ſtay them,
A Woman clad in Armour chafeth them.

Enter Puzel.

Here, here ſhee comes. Ile haue a bow with thee:
Deuill, or Deuils Dam, Ile coniure thee:

Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch,

And ftraightway giue thy Soule to him thou ſeru't.
Puzel. Come, come, 'tis onely I that muſt diſſuane
thee.
Here they fight.

Talb. Heauens, can you ſuffer Hell ſo to preuyle?
My breſt Ile burſt with ſtraining of my courage,
And from my ſhoulders crack my Armes alſunder,
But I will chafeth this high-minded Trumpet.

They fight againe.

Puzel. Talbot farwell, thy houre is not yet come,
I muſt goe Viëttuall Orleance forthwith:

A short Alarum: then enter the Towne
with Souldiers.

101

O're-take me if thou canst, I fcorne thy strength,
Goe, goe, cheare vp thy hungry-harued men,
Helpe Salisbury to make his Teftament,
This Day is ours, as many more shall be.
Exit.
Talb. My thoughts are whirled like a Potters Wheele,
I know not where I am, nor what I doe:
A Witch by feare, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troupes, and conquers as she lifts:
So Bees with fmoake, and Doues with noyfome fteanch,
Are from their Hyues and Houfes driven away.
They call'd vs, for our fierceneſſe, English Dogges,
Now like to Whelches, we crying runne away.
A short Alarum.

Alarum.
Hearke Countreymen, eyther renew the fight,
Or tere the Lyons out of Englands Coat;
Renounce your Soyle, giue Sheepe in Lyons ftead:
Sheepe run not halfe fo trecherous from the Wolfe,
Or Horfe or Oxen from the Leopard,
As you flye from your oft-subdued flanes,
Alarum. Here another Skirmish.

Alarum.
It will not be, retyre into your Trenches:
You all confented vnto Salisburies death,
For none would strike a ſtroake in his reuence.
Puzel is entred into Orleance,

In fight of vs, or ought that we could doe.

O would I were to dye with Salisbury,

The ſhame hereof, will make me hide my head.

Exit Talbot.

Alarum, Retreat, Flourish.

Enter on the Walls, Puzel, Dolphin, Reaigne,
Alanson, and Souldiers.

Puzel. Aduance our wauing Colours on the Walls,
Reſcu'd is Orleance from the English.

Thus Joane de Puzel hath perform'd her word.

Dolph. Divinſt Creature, Aſſrea's Daughter,
How ſhall I honour thee for this ſucceſſe?
Thy promifes are like Adonis Garden,
That one day bloom'd, and fruitfull were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetsſe,
Recover'd is the Towne of Orleance,
More bleſſed hap did ne're befall our State.

Reignier. Why ring not out the Bells alowd,
Throughout the Towne?

Dolph. command the Citizens make Bonfires,
And feaſt and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the ioy that God hath giuen vs.

Alauf. All France will be repleat with mirth and ioy,
When they ſhall heare how we haue play'd the men,
Dolph. 'Tis Joane, not we, by whom the day is wonne:
For which, I will divide my Crowne with her,
And all the Priefts and Fryers in my Realme,
Shall in proceſſion ſing her endleſſe prayſe.

A ſtatelyer Pyramis to her Ile reare,
Then Rhodophe's or Memphis euer was.

In memorie of her, when ſhe is dead,
Her Aſhes, in an Vrne more precious
Then the rich-iewel'd Coffer of Darius,
Transported, ſhall be at high Feſtivals
Before the Kings and Queens of France.

No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry,
But Joane de Puzel ſhall be France's Saint.
Come in, and let vs Banquet Royally,
After this Golden Day of Victorie.

Flourish. Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Sergeant of a Band, with two Sentinels.

Ser. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant:
If any noyſor or Souldier you perceiue
Neere to the walles, by ſome apparant ſigne
Let vs have knowledge at the Court of Guard.

Sent. Sergeant you ſhall. Thus are poore Seruitors
(When others fleepe vpon their quiet beds)
Conſtrain'd to watch in darkneſſe, raine, and cold,

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with foaling
Ladders: Their Drummes beating a
Dead March.

Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
By whole approach, the Regions of Artoys,
Wallon, and Picardy, are friends to vs:

This happy night, the Frenchmen are ſecure,
Hauing all day carows'd and banquetted,

Embrace we then this opportunitie,
As fitting beſt to quittance their deceite,
Contri'd by Art, and baleful Sorcerie,

Bed. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame,
Difpairing of his owne armes fortitude,
To ioyne with Witches, and the helpe of Hell.

Bur. Traitors haue neuer other company.

But what's that Puzell whom they tearme ſo pure?

Tal. A Maid, they fay.

Bed. A Maid? And be ſo martiall?

Bur. Pray God ſhe proue not maſculine ere long:

If vnderneath the Standard of the French
She carry Armour, as ſhe hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them praſtife and conquere with ſpirits,
God is our Fortrefſe, in whose conquering name
Let vs refoluſe to ſcale their flinty bulwarkes.

Bed. Aſcend braue Talbot, we will follow thee.

Tal. Not altogether: Better farre I gueſſe,

That we do make our entrance ſeueral wayes :

That if it chance the one of vs do faile,

The other yet may rife againſt their force.

Bed. Agreed; Ile to yond corner.

Bur. And I to this.

Tal. And heere will Talbot mount, or make his graue.

Now Salisbury, for thee and for the right

Of English Henry, ſhall this night appeare

How much in duty, I am bound to both.

Sent. Arme, arme, the enemy doth make affault.

Cry, S, George, A Talbot.

The French leape ore the walles in their ſpirits. Enter
feuerall wayes, Baſtard, Alanſon, Reaigner,
halfe ready, and halfe vnready.

Alan. How now my Lords? what all vnreadie ſo ?
Baſt. Vnready? I and glad we ſcap'd so well.
Reig. Twas time (I trow) to wake and leaue our beds,
Hearing Alarums at our Chamber doores.

Alan. Of all exploits ſince firſt I follow'd Armes,
Nere heard I of a warlike enterprize

More

More venturous, or desperate then this.

Baſt. I thinke this Talbot be a Fiend of Hell.

Reig. If not of Hell, the Heauens fure fauour him.

Alans. Here commeth Charles, I maruell how he fped?

Enter Charles and Ioane.

Baſt. Tut, holy Ioane was his defenſiue Guard.

Charl. Is this thy cunning, thon'deceitfull Dame?

Didſt thou at first, to flatter vs withall,

Make vs partakers of a little gayne,

That now our loffe might be ten times so much?

Ioane. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?

At all times will you haue my Power alike?

Sleeping or waking, muſt I fill pretuayle,

Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?

Improuident Souldiers, had your Watch been good,

This fudden Mischieſe neuer could haue falne.

Charl. Duke of Alafon, this was your default,

That being Captaine of the Watch to Night,

Did looke no better to that weightie Charge.

Alans. Had all your Quarters been as safely kept,

As that whereof I had the gouernment,

We had not beene thus famefully surpriz'd.

Baſt. Mine was ſecure.

Reig. And so was mine, my Lord.

Charl. And for my ſelſe, moſt part of all this Night
Within her Quarter, and mine owne Precinct,

I was employ'd in paſſing to and fro,

About relieving of the Centinels.

Then how, or which way, should they firſt breake in?

Ioane. Quaffion (my Lords) no further of the cafe,
How or which way; 'tis ſure they found ſome place,
But weakely guarded, where the breach was made:

And now there reſts no other ſhift but this,

To gather our Souldiers, ſcatter'd and disperſt,

And lay new Plat-formes to endammage them.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter a Souldier, crying, a Talbot, a Talbot:
they flye, leauing their Clothes behind.

Sould. Ile be so bold to take what they haue left:
The Cry of Talbot ferues me for a Sword,

For I haue loaden me with many Spoyles,

Vſing no other Weapon but his Name.

Exit.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundie.

Baſt. The Day begins to breake, and Night is fled,
Whose pitchy Mantle ouer-vayl'd the Earth.

Here found Retreat, and ceaſe our hot purſuit.

Retreat.

Talb. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury,

And here aduance it in the Market-Place,

The middle Centurie of this curſed Towne.

Now haue I pay'd my Vow vnto his Soule:

For euery drop of blood was drawne from him,
There hath at least ſiue Frenchmen dyed to night.

And that hereafter Ages may behold

What ruine happened in reuenge of him,
Within their chieſeſt Temple Ile ereſt

A Tombe, wherein his Corps ſhall be interr'd:

Vpon the which, that euery one may reade,

Shall be engra'u'd the ſacke of Orleance,

The trecherous manner of his mouneſſuall death,

And what a terror he had beene to France.

But Lords, in all our bloudy Maſſacre,

I muſe we met not with the Dolphins Grace,

His new-come Champion, vertuous Ioane of Acre,
Nor any of his false Confederates.

Baſt. Tis thought Lord Talbot, when the fight began
Rows'd on the fudden from their drowſe Beds,
They did amongst the troupes of armed men,
Leape o're the Walls for refuge in the field.

Burg. My ſelſe, as farre as I could well diſcern,
For ſmoake, and duskie vapours of the night,
Am ſure I ſear'd the Dolphin and his Trull,
When Arme in Arme they both came swifely running,
Like to a payre of louing Turtle-Doues,

That could not lye aſunder day or night.
After that things are ſet in order here,
Wee'll follow them with all the power we haue.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Meſſ. All hayle, my Lords: which of this Princely traine
Call ye the Warlike Talbot, for his Aſts

So much applauded through the Realme of France?

Talb. Here is the Talbot, who would ſpeak with him.

Meſſ. The vertuous Lady, Counteffe of Ougery,
With modetie admiring thy Renowne,
By me entreats (great Lord) thou would'ſt vouchſaſe
To visit her poore Castle where ſhe ſyes,
That ſhe may boaſt ſhe hath beheld the man,
Whofe glory fills the World with lowd report.

Burg. Is it euen ſo? Nay, then I fee our Warres
Will turne vnto a peacefull Comick ſport,
When Ladyes craue to be encountr'd with.

You may not (my Lord) deſpife her gentle ſuit.

Talb. Ne're truſt me then: for when a World of men
Could not preuyle with all their Oratorie,
Yet hath a Womans kindneſſe ouer-ru'l'd:
And therefore tell her, I returne great thanks,
And in ſubſuiffusion will attend on her.

Will not your Honors beare me company?

Baſt. No, truly, 'tis more then manners will:

And I haue heard it ſayd, Vnbiſden Gueſts

Are often welcommeſt when they are gone.

Talb. Well then, alone (since there's no remedie)

I meane to proue this Ladyes courteſe,

Come hither Captaine, you perceiue my minde.

Whipper.

Capt. I doe my Lord, and meane accordingly.

Exeunt.

Enter Counteffe.

Count. Porter, remember what I gaue in charge,
And when you haue done ſo, bring the Keyes to me.

Port. Madame, I will.

Exit.

Count. The Plot is layd, if all things fall out right,
I ſhall be famous be by this exploit,
As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus death,
Great is the rumour of this dreadfull Knight,
And his atchieuements of no leſſe account :
Faine would mine eyes be witneſſe with mine eares,
To giue their cenſure of theſe rare reports.

Enter Meſſenger and Talbot.

Meſſ. Madame, according as your Ladyſhip deſi'd,
By Meſſage crau'd, ſo is Lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome: what's this the mant
Meſſ. Madame, it is.

Count. Is this the Scourge of France?

Is this the Talbot, so much ſear'd abroad?

That with his Name the Mothers ſtill their Babes?

I fee Report is fabulous and falſe.

103

I thought I should haue seene some Hercules,
A second Hecker, for his grim aspeet,
And large proportion of his strong knit Limbes,
Alas, this is a Child, a filly Dwarfe :

Alas, this is a Child, a filly Dwarfe:
It cannot be, this weake and writhled Trimpe
Should strike such terror to his Enemies.

Should strike such terror to his Enemies.
Talb. Madame, I haue beene bold to trouble you:
But since your Ladyship is not at Iesyfure,
He for some other time to visit you.

Comt. What means he now?

Goe ask him, whether he goes?

Mell. Stay my Lord Talbot, for my Lady craves,
To know the cause of your abrupt departure ?

To know the cause of your abrupt departure ?
Talb. Marry, for that shee's in a wrong beleefe,

Talb. Marry, for that shee's in a wrong beleefe,
I goe to certifi her Talbot's here.

Enter Porter with Keyes.

Comt. If thou be he, then art thou Prifoner.

Talb. Prifoner ? to whom ?

Comt. To me, blood-thirtie Lord:

Comt. And for that cause I trayn'd thee to my House.

Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my Gallery thy Picture hangs :

For in my Gallery thy Picture hangs :
But now thy substance shall endure the like,

But now thy substance shall endure the like,
And I will chayne these Legges and Armes of thine,

And I will chayne these Legges and Armes of thine,
That haft by Tyrannie these many yeeres

That haft by Tyrannie these many yeeres
Washed out Countrey,flaine our Citizens,

Washed out Countrey, flaine our Citizens,
And lent our Sonnes and Husbands captiuate.

Talb. Ha, ha, ha.

Comt. Laugheft thou Wretch ?

Tyrmath shall turne to moane.

Talb. I laugh to see your Ladyship so fond,

Talb. I laugh to see your Ladyship so fond,
To thinke, that you haue ought but Talbots shadow,
Whereon to practise your feueritie.

Comt. Why, art not thou the man ?

Talb. I am indeede.

Comt. Then haue I substance too.

Talb. No, no, I am but shadow of my selfe :

Talb. You are decei'd, my substance, not is here ;

Talb. You are decei'd, my substance, not is here ;
For what you see, is but the smallest part,

For what you see, is but the smallest part,
And least proportion of Humanitie :

Talb. You are decei'd, my substance, not is here;
And least proportion of Humanitie:
I tell you Madame, were the whole Frame here,

And least proportion of Humanitie:
It is of such a spacious loftie pitch,

And least proportion of Humanitie:
Your Roome were not sufficient to contay'n't.

Comt. This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce,
He will be here, and yet he is not here :
How can these contrarieties agree?

Talb. That will I shew you presently.

Winds his Horne, Drummes strike vp, a Peale
of Ordenance: Enter Souldiers.

How say you Madame? are you now perfwaded,
That Talbot is but shadow of himselfe?

That Talbot is but shadow of himselfe?
These are his substance, finewes, armes, and strength,
With which he yoaketh your rebellious Neckes,

With which he yoaketh your rebellious Neckes,
Razeth your Cities, and subuerts your Townes,

With which he yoaketh your rebellious Neckes,
And in a moment makes them defolate.

Comt. Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse,
I finde thou art no leſſe then Fame hath bruited,
And more then may be gathered by thy ſhape.

Comt. And more then may be gathered by thy shape.
Let my preſumption not prouoke thy wrath,

Let my preſumption not prouoke thy wrath,
For I am forſory, that with reverence

Let my preſumption not prouoke thy wrath,
I did not entertaine thee as thou art.

Talb. Benot dismay'd, faire Lady, nor miſconſter
The minde of Talbot, as you did miſtake

The outward comſposition of his body.

The outward comſposition of his body.
What you haue done, hath not offended me :

What you haue done, hath not offended me :
Not other ſatisfaction doe I craue,

But only with your patience, that we may
Taste of your Wine, and fee what Cates you haue,
For Souldiers ſtomacks always ferue them well.

Comt. With all my heart, and thinke me honored,
To beſt so great a Warrior in my House.

Exenunt.

Enter Riehard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerſet,
Poole, and others.

Yorke. Great Lords and Gentlemen,
What means this ſilence ?

Dare no man anſwer in a Cafe of Truth ?

Suff. Within the Temple Hall we were too lowd,
The Garden here is more conuenient,

Yorke. Then ſay at once, if I maintain'd the Truth :
Or else was wrangling Somerſet in th'error?

Suff. Faith I haue beene a Truant in the Law,
And neuer yet could frame my will to it,
And therefore frame the Law vnto my will.

Som. Iudge you, my Lord of Warwicke, then be-
tweene vs.

War. Between two Hawks, which flyes the higher pitch,
Between two Dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between two Blades, which beares the better temper,

Between two Horſes, which doth beare him beſt,

Between two Girles, which hath the merryſt eye,
I haue perhaps ſome ſhallow ſpirit of Judgement:
But in the ſeuen ſharpe Quillets of the Law,
Good faith I am no wiser then a Daw.

Yorke. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
The truth appears so naked on my ſide,
That any purblind eye may find it out.

Som. And on my ſide it is so well apparrell'd,
So cleare, so ſhining, and so euident,
That it will glimmer through a blind-mans eye.

Yorke. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and so loth to ſpeake,
In dumbe ſigniſcants proclayme your thoughts:
Let him that is a true-borne Gentleman,
And ſtands vpon the honor of his birth,
If he lippofe that I haue pleaded truth,
From off this Bryer pluck a white Roſe with me.

Som. Let him that is no Coward, nor no Flatterer,
But dare maintaine the partie of the truth,
Pluck a red Roſe from off this Thorne with me.

War. I loue no Colours: and without all colour
Of bare infinuating flatterie,
I pluck this white Roſe with Plantagenet.

Suff. I pluck this red Roſe, with young Somerſet,
And ſay withall, I thinke he held the right.

Vernon. Stay Lords and Gentlemen, and pluck no more
Till you conclude, that he vpon whole ſide
The feweſt Roſes are cropt from the Tree,
Shall yeeld the other in the right opinion.

Som. Good Maſter Vernon, it is well obiſted :
If I haue feweſt, I ſubſcribe in ſilence.

Yorke. And I.

Vernon. Then for the truth, and plainneſſe of the Cafe,
I pluck this pale and Maiden Bloſſome here,
Gioiving my Verdiſt on the white Roſe ſide.

Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
Leaſt bleeding, you doe paint the white Roſe red,
And fall on my ſide ſo againſt your will.

Vernon. If I, my Lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion ſhall be Surgeon to my hurt,
And keepe me on the ſide where ſtill I am.

Som. Well, well, come on, who eſſe?

Lawyer: Vn-