King Henry IV, Part 2

‘The second parte of the history of kinge HENRY the iiijth with the humours of Sir JOHN FFALLSTAFF’ was entered in the Stationers’ Register on 23 August 1600, and a Quarto was published that year, printed by Valentine Simmes. One scene, 3.1, in which King Henry makes his belated first appearance, was accidently omitted. To insert it Simmes set four new leaves, which not only include the missing scene but reprint the surrounding lines from the end of 2.4 and the beginning of 3.2. The two states of the 1600 Quarto, with or without 3.1, mark the only appearance of the play in print before the 1623 Folio, a surprising fact given the extraordinary popularity of King Henry IV, Part 1.

The Quarto text serves as the primary authority for most modern editions. The Folio, however, includes eight substantial passages absent from the Quarto, and seems in other places authoritatively to correct and add to the earlier text, so it too must be taken into account by editors. In other particulars, however, the Folio seems further from Shakespeare’s own hand than the Quarto, regularizing its colloquialisms and purging the text of most of its oaths and profanities.

The play was written soon after King Henry IV, Part 1, probably early in 1598, but more as a sequel than as the second half of a single ten-act dramatic entity. Had two plays been clearly in his mind from the outset, Shakespeare would no doubt have parcelled out the historical material more evenly. Though Part 2 brings the action forward to King Henry’s death and Hal’s accession to the throne, the play does more than merely complete the history of the reign. Shakespeare echoes the structure of the earlier play, transposing it into a darker key. Part 2 also ignores various aspects of the plot of Part 1, even forgetting the reconciliation of father and son that ends the earlier play.

Yet if the trajectory of the action is the same in each play, dividing interest between the King and Prince, the rebels and Falstaff, the history in Part 2 is more troubled and troubling. The climactic battles of each play, while structurally analogous, starkly establish the plays’ different tones. Part 1’s glorious victory at Shrewsbury, where Hal magnificently proves himself a worthy successor, is paralleled by the betrayal at Gaultree Forest, where Prince John of Lancaster displays not the chivalric magnanimity of Hal but a prudential cynicism all too appropriate to the dispiriting world of this play.

Hal does not even appear on stage until 2.2, and his first line is telling: ‘Before God, I am exceeding weary.’ Even Falstaff is here more tired and cynical than in Part 1, his actions meaner, his wit less agile. Though his presence is still engaging, he shows the marks of the disease that infects the play world. He first enters worrying about the doctor’s report about his urine sample, and his own diagnosis is that he suffers from ‘consumption of the purse’.

Falstaff in this play is no longer a father figure for Hal; indeed the two are rarely together on stage, and the play’s most notorious moment is the fat knight’s public rejection. Falstaff eagerly anticipates the crowning of his erstwhile tavern friend as King, but the ‘Hal’ he knew is no more. The once wayward Prince is now King of England, and coldly tells Falstaff: ‘Presume not that I am the thing I was.’ The newly crowned Henry V has no choice but to repudiate the dissolute knight, but audiences inevitably feel that the new King gives up some of his humanity in so fully taking on his necessary public role. It is here, in the way in which Henry performs the rejection, in the degree of evident regret, in the extent to which he realizes what he has lost and what he has become, that productions of this complex and unsettling play reveal their moral focus.

Though never as popular on stage as its predecessor, Part 2 has a distinguished performance history. It was one of the plays performed at Court in the winter of 1612-13 to celebrate the wedding of Princess Elizabeth and the Elector Palatine. After the Restoration it continued to be played, but often in adaptations that emphasized the role of Falstaff, or in conflations of the two parts. Such conflations go back at least as far as 1622-3, when Sir Edward Dering prepared one for his own private theatricals, but the tradition survives into the twentieth century, as in Orson Welles’s film Chimes at Midnight (1966) and an extraordinary production of Enrico IV by the Colletivo di Parma, first staged in Italy in 1982 and brought to London the following year.

The Arden text is based on the 1600 Quarto, supplemented by the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

RUMOUR		the presenter
KING Henry the Fourth
PRINCE Henry		afterwards crowned King Henry the Fifth Prince John of LANCASTER
		sons to Henry the Fourth, and brethren to Henry the Fifth
		opposites against King Henry the Fourth
		of the King’s party
		irregular humourist
		both country Justices
DAVY FANG and SNARE		servant to Shallow two sergeants
		country soldiers
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND		Northumberland’s wife
LADY PERCY		Percy’s widow
HOSTESS Quickly
DOLL Tearsheet
Speaker of the EPILOGUE
FRANCIS and other DRAWERS

Beadles and other Officers, Grooms, Porter, Messenger, Soldiers, Lords, Musicians, Attendants

King Henry IV, Part 2

INDUCTION

Enter RUMOUR painted full of tongues.

RUMOUR     Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the Orient to the drooping West,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.	5
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace, while covert enmity
Under the smile of safety wounds the world;	10
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters, and prepar’d defence,
Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant War,
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe	15
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wav’ring multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus	20
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry’s victory,
Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury
Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,	25
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels’ blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? My office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur’s sword,	30
And that the King before the Douglas’ rage
Stoop’d his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour’d through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,	35
Where Hotspur’s father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news
Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour’s tongues
They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.     Exit.	40

1.1 Enter LORD BARDOLPH.

LORD BARDOLPH     Who keeps the gate here, ho?
Enter the Porter.
Where is the Earl?
PORTER     What shall I say you are?
LORD BARDOLPH     Tell thou the Earl
That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
PORTER     His lordship is walk’d forth into the orchard.
Please it your honour knock but at the gate,	5
And he himself will answer.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.
LORD BARDOLPH     Here comes the Earl.
Exit Porter.
NORTHUMBERLAND
What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
Should be the father of some stratagem.
The times are wild; contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose,	10
And bears down all before him.
LORD BARDOLPH     Noble Earl,
I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
NORTHUMBERLAND     Good, and God will!
LORD BARDOLPH     As good as heart can wish.
The King is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,	15
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
Kill’d by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John
And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth’s brawn, the hulk Sir John,
Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,	20
So fought, so follow’d, and so fairly won,
Came not till now to dignify the times
Since Caesar’s fortunes!
NORTHUMBERLAND     How is this deriv’d?
Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
LORD BARDOLPH
I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence,	25
A gentleman well bred, and of good name,
That freely render’d me these news for true.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Here comes my servant Travers whom I sent
On Tuesday last to listen after news.
Enter TRAVERS.
LORD BARDOLPH     My lord, I over-rode him on the way,	30
And he is furnish’d with no certainties
More than he haply may retail from me.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
TRAVERS     My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn’d me back
With joyful tidings, and, being better hors’d,	35
Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
A gentleman almost forspent with speed,
That stopp’d by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
He ask’d the way to Chester, and of him
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.	40
He told me that rebellion had ill luck,
And that young Harry Percy’s spur was cold.
With that he gave his able horse the head,
And bending forward struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade	45
Up to the rowel-head; and starting so
He seem’d in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.
NORTHUMBERLAND     Ha? Again!
Said he young Harry Percy’s spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion	50
Had met ill luck?
LORD BARDOLPH     My lord, I’ll tell you what:
If my young lord your son have not the day,
Upon mine honour, for a silken point
I’ll give my barony, never talk of it.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers	55
Give then such instances of loss?
LORD BARDOLPH     Who, he?
He was some hilding fellow that had stol’n
The horse he rode on, and, upon my life,
Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
Enter MORTON.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Yea, this man’s brow, like to a title-leaf,	60
Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
So looks the strond whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witness’d usurpation.
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
MORTON     I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord,	65
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
To fright our party.
NORTHUMBERLAND     How doth my son, and brother?
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,	70
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam’s curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him half his Troy was burnt:
But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy’s death ere thou report’st it.	75
This thou wouldst say, ‘Your son did thus and thus;
Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas’ –
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds:
But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,	80
Ending with ‘Brother, son, and all are dead’.
MORTON
Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;
But, for my lord your son –
NORTHUMBERLAND     Why, he is dead.
See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
He that but fears the thing he would not know	85
Hath by instinct knowledge from others’ eyes
That what he fear’d is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;
Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace,
And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.	90
MORTON     You are too great to be by me gainsaid,
Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Yet, for all this, say not that Percy’s dead.
I see a strange confession in thine eye:
Thou shak’st thy head, and hold’st it fear or sin	95
To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
The tongue offends not that reports his death;
And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
Not he which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news	100
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember’d tolling a departing friend.
LORD BARDOLPH
I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
MORTON     I am sorry I should force you to believe	105
That which I would to God I had not seen;
But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
Rend’ring faint quittance, wearied, and out-breath’d,
To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
The never-daunted Percy to the earth,	110
From whence with life he never more sprung up.
In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire
Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
From the best-temper’d courage in his troops:	115
For from his metal was his party steel’d,
Which once in him abated, all the rest
Turn’d on themselves, like dull and heavy lead:
And as the thing that’s heavy in itself
Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,	120
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur’s loss,
Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester	125
Too soon ta’en prisoner, and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword
Had three times slain th’appearance of the King,
Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame
Of those that turn’d their backs, and in his flight,	130
Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
Is that the King hath won, and hath sent out
A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster
And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.	135
NORTHUMBERLAND
For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
Being sick, have in some measure made me well.
And as the wretch whose fever-weaken’d joints,	140
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
Out of his keeper’s arms, even so my limbs,
Weaken’d with grief, being now enrag’d with grief,
Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!	145
A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly coif!
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
Which princes, flesh’d with conquest, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron, and approach	150
The ragged’st hour that time and spite dare bring
To frown upon th’enrag’d Northumberland!
Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature’s hand
Keep the wild flood confin’d! Let order die!
And let this world no longer be a stage	155
To feed contention in a ling’ring act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
And darkness be the burier of the dead!	160
LORD BARDOLPH
This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.
MORTON
Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour;
The lives of all your loving complices
Lean on your health; the which, if you give o’er
To stormy passion, must perforce decay.	165
You cast th’event of war, my noble lord,
And summ’d the account of chance, before you said
‘Let us make head’. It was your presurmise
That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
You knew he walk’d o’er perils, on an edge,	170
More likely to fall in than to get o’er.
You were advis’d his flesh was capable
Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang’d.
Yet did you say ‘Go forth’; and none of this,	175
Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall’n,
Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,
More than that being which was like to be?
LORD BARDOLPH     We all that are engaged to this loss	180
Knew that we ventur’d on such dangerous seas
That if we wrought out life ’twas ten to one;
And yet we ventur’d for the gain propos’d,
Chok’d the respect of likely peril fear’d,
And since we are o’erset, venture again.	185
Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
MORTON
’Tis more than time. And, my most noble lord,
I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth,
The gentle Archbishop of York is up
With well-appointed pow’rs. He is a man	190
Who with a double surety binds his followers.
My lord your son had only but the corpse,
But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
For that same word ‘rebellion’ did divide
The action of their bodies from their souls,	195
And they did fight with queasiness, constrain’d,
As men drink potions, that their weapons only
Seem’d on our side; but, for their spirits and souls,
This word ‘rebellion’ – it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop	200
Turns insurrection to religion;
Suppos’d sincere and holy in his thoughts,
He’s follow’d both with body and with mind,
And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
Of fair King Richard, scrap’d from Pomfret stones;	205
Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
And more and less do flock to follow him.
NORTHUMBERLAND
I knew of this before, but, to speak truth,	210
This present grief had wip’d it from my mind.
Go in with me, and counsel every man
The aptest way for safety and revenge:
Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed:
Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt.	215

1.2 Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler.

FALSTAFF     Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
PAGE     He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy
water; but, for the party that owed it, he might have
moe diseases than he knew for.	5
FALSTAFF     Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me.
The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is
not able to invent anything that intends to laughter
more than I invent, or is invented on me; I am not only
witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.	10
I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath
overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the Prince put
thee into my service for any other reason than to set
me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whoreson
mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap than to	15
wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate till
now, but I will inset you, neither in gold nor silver, but
in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master
for a jewel, – the juvenal the Prince your master,
whose chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard	20
grow in the palm of my hand than he shall get one off
his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is a
face-royal. God may finish it when He will, ’tis not a
hair amiss yet. He may keep it still at a face-royal, for
a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it. And yet	25
he’ll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his
father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but
he’s almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said
Master Dommelton about the satin for my short cloak
and my slops?	30
PAGE     He said, sir, you should procure him better
assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond
and yours, he liked not the security.
FALSTAFF     Let him be damned like the glutton! Pray
God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel!	35
A rascally yea-forsooth knave, to bear a gentleman in
hand, and then stand upon security! The whoreson
smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes and
bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is
through with them in honest taking up, then they	40
must stand upon security. I had as lief they would put
ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with security.
I looked a should have sent me two and twenty yards
of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me
‘security’! Well, he may sleep in security, for he hath	45
the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife
shines through it; and yet cannot he see, though he
have his own lanthorn to light him. Where’s
Bardolph?
PAGE     He’s gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse.	50
FALSTAFF     I bought him in Paul’s, and he’ll buy me a
horse in Smithfield. And I could get me but a wife in
the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.
Enter Lord Chief Justice and Servant.
PAGE     Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the	55
Prince for striking him about Bardolph.
FALSTAFF     Wait close, I will not see him.
CHIEF JUSTICE What’s he that goes there?
SERVANT     Falstaff, and’t please your lordship.
CHIEF JUSTICE     He that was in question for the robbery?	60
SERVANT     He, my lord: but he hath since done good
service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going
with some charge to the Lord John of Lancaster.
CHIEF JUSTICE What, to York? Call him back again.
SERVANT     Sir John Falstaff!	65
FALSTAFF     Boy, tell him I am deaf.
PAGE     You must speak louder, my master is deaf.
CHIEF JUSTICE     I am sure he is, to the hearing of
anything good. Go pluck him by the elbow, I must
speak with him.	70
SERVANT     Sir John!
FALSTAFF     What! A young knave, and begging! Is there
not wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the
King lack subjects? Do not the rebels need soldiers?
Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is	75
worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were
it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to
make it.
SERVANT     You mistake me, sir.
FALSTAFF     Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man?	80
Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had
lied in my throat if I had said so.
SERVANT I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and
your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you
you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than	85
an honest man.
FALSTAFF     I give thee leave to tell me so? I lay aside that
which grows to me? If thou get’st any leave of me,
hang me. If thou tak’st leave, thou wert better be
hanged. You hunt counter. Hence! Avaunt!	90
SERVANT     Sir, my lord would speak with you.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.
FALSTAFF     My good lord! God give your lordship good
time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad, I
heard say your lordship was sick. I hope your lordship	95
goes abroad by advice; your lordship, though not clean
past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you,
some relish of the saltness of time; and I most humbly
beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of your
health.	100
CHIEF JUSTICE     Sir John, I sent for you before your
expedition to Shrewsbury.
FALSTAFF     And’t please your lordship, I hear his
Majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales.
CHIEF JUSTICE     I talk not of his Majesty. You would not	105
come when I sent for you.
FALSTAFF     And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fallen
into this same whoreson apoplexy.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God mend him! I pray you let me
speak with you.	110
FALSTAFF     This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of
lethargy, and’t please your lordship, a kind of sleeping
in the blood, a whoreson tingling.
CHIEF JUSTICE     What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.
FALSTAFF     It hath it original from much grief, from	115
study, and perturbation of the brain; I have read the
cause of his effects in Galen, it is a kind of deafness.
CHIEF JUSTICE     I think you are fallen into the disease, for
you hear not what I say to you.
FALSTAFF     Very well, my lord, very well. Rather, and’t	120
please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady
of not marking, that I am troubled withal.
CHIEF JUSTICE     To punish you by the heels would
amend the attention of your ears, and I care not if I do
become your physician.	125
FALSTAFF     I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so
patient. Your lordship may minister the potion of
imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how I
should be your patient to follow your prescriptions,
the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeed	130
a scruple itself.
CHIEF JUSTICE     I sent for you when there were matters
against you for your life, to come speak with me.
FALSTAFF     As I was then advised by my learned counsel
in the laws of this land-service, I did not come.	135
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in
great infamy.
FALSTAFF     He that buckles himself in my belt cannot
live in less.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Your means are very slender, and your	140
waste is great.
FALSTAFF     I would it were otherwise, I would my means
were greater and my waist slenderer.
CHIEF JUSTICE     You have misled the youthful Prince.
FALSTAFF     The young Prince hath misled me. I am the	145
fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed
wound. Your day’s service at Shrewsbury hath a little
gilded over your night’s exploit on Gad’s Hill. You
may thank th’unquiet time for your quiet o’er-posting	150
that action.
FALSTAFF     My lord! –
CHIEF JUSTICE     But since all is well, keep it so: wake not
a sleeping wolf.
FALSTAFF     To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox.	155
CHIEF JUSTICE What! You are as a candle, the better
part burnt out.
FALSTAFF     A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow – if I did
say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
CHIEF JUSTICE     There is not a white hair in your face but	160
should have his effect of gravity.
FALSTAFF     His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.
CHIEF JUSTICE     You follow the young Prince up and
down, like his ill angel.
FALSTAFF     Not so, my lord, your ill angel is light, but I	165
hope he that looks upon me will take me without
weighing. And yet in some respects, I grant, I cannot
go. I cannot tell – virtue is of so little regard in these
costermongers’ times that true valour is turned
bearherd; pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick	170
wit wasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts
appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes
them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that are old
consider not the capacities of us that are young; you do
measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of	175
your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our youth,
I must confess, are wags too.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Do you set down your name in the scroll
of youth, that are written down old with all the
characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry	180
hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg,
an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your
wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and
every part about you blasted with antiquity? And will
you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!	185
FALSTAFF     My lord, I was born about three of the clock
in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a
round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with hallooing,
and singing of anthems. To approve my youth further,
I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and	190
understanding; and he that will caper with me for a
thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have
at him! For the box of the ear that the Prince gave you,
he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a
sensible lord. I have checked him for it, and the young	195
lion repents – [aside] marry, not in ashes and
sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God send the Prince a better
companion!
FALSTAFF     God send the companion a better prince!	200
I cannot rid my hands of him.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the King hath severed you and
Prince Harry: I hear you are going with Lord John of
Lancaster, against the Archbishop and the Earl of
Northumberland.	205
FALSTAFF     Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But
look you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home,
that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord,
I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to
sweat extraordinarily. If it be a hot day, and I brandish	210
anything but a bottle, I would I might never spit white
again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out
his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last
ever; but it was alway yet the trick of our English
nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too	215
common. If ye will needs say I am an old man, you
should give me rest. I would to God my name were not
so terrible to the enemy as it is – I were better to be
eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to
nothing with perpetual motion.	220
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, be honest, be honest, and God
bless your expedition!
FALSTAFF     Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound
to furnish me forth?
CHIEF JUSTICE     Not a penny, not a penny; you are too	225
impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me
to my cousin Westmoreland.
Exeunt Lord Chief Justice and Servant.
FALSTAFF     If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A
man can no more separate age and covetousness than
a can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout galls	230
the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the
degrees prevent my curses. Boy!
PAGE     Sir?
FALSTAFF     What money is in my purse?
PAGE     Seven groats and two pence.	235
FALSTAFF     I can get no remedy against this consumption
of the purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out,
but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter to my
Lord of Lancaster; this to the Prince; this to the Earl
of Westmoreland; – and this to old mistress Ursula,	240
whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived
the first white hair of my chin. About it; you know
where to find me.     Exit Page.
A pox of this gout! or a gout of this pox! for the one or
the other plays the rogue with my great toe. ’Tis no	245
matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and
my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good
wit will make use of anything; I will turn diseases to
commodity.     Exit.

1.3 Enter the Archbishop, THOMAS MOWBRAY the Earl Marshal, the Lords HASTINGS and BARDOLPH.

ARCHBISHOP
Thus have you heard our cause, and known our means,
And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes:
And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?
MOWBRAY     I well allow the occasion of our arms,	5
But gladly would be better satisfied
How in our means we should advance ourselves
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the power and puissance of the King.
HASTINGS     Our present musters grow upon the file	10
To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
And our supplies live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.
LORD BARDOLPH
The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus –	15
Whether our present five and twenty thousand
May hold up head without Northumberland.
HASTINGS     With him we may.
LORD BARDOLPH     Yea, marry, there’s the point:
But if without him we be thought too feeble
My judgment is, we should not step too far	20
Till we had his assistance by the hand;
For in a theme so bloody-fac’d as this
Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
Of aids incertain should not be admitted.
ARCHBISHOP     ’Tis very true, Lord Bardolph, for indeed	25
It was young Hotspur’s case at Shrewsbury.
LORD BARDOLPH
It was, my lord; who lin’d himself with hope,
Eating the air and promise of supply,
Flatt’ring himself in project of a power
Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts,	30
And so, with great imagination
Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And winking leap’d into destruction.
HASTINGS     But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.	35
LORD BARDOLPH     Yes, if this present quality of war –
Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot –
Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
We see th’appearing buds; which to prove fruit
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair	40
That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model,
And when we see the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the cost of the erection,
Which if we find outweighs ability,	45
What do we then but draw anew the model
In fewer offices, or at least desist
To build at all? Much more, in this great work –
Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
And set another up – should we survey	50
The plot of situation and the model,
Consent upon a sure foundation,
Question surveyors, know our own estate,
How able such a work to undergo,
To weigh against his opposite; or else	55
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men,
Like one that draws the model of an house
Beyond his power to build it, who, half-through,
Gives o’er, and leaves his part-created cost	60
A naked subject to the weeping clouds,
And waste for churlish winter’s tyranny.
HASTINGS
Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth,
Should be still-born, and that we now possess’d
The utmost man of expectation,	65
I think we are a body strong enough,
Even as we are, to equal with the King.
LORD BARDOLPH
What, is the King but five and twenty thousand?
HASTINGS
To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,	70
Are in three heads: one power against the French;
And one against Glendower; perforce a third
Must take up us. So is the unfirm King
In three divided, and his coffers sound
With hollow poverty and emptiness.	75
ARCHBISHOP
That he should draw his several strengths together
And come against us in full puissance
Need not be dreaded.
HASTINGS     If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm’d, the French and Welsh
Baying him at the heels: never fear that.	80
LORD BARDOLPH
Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
HASTINGS     The Duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;
But who is substituted ’gainst the French
I have no certain notice.
ARCHBISHOP     Let us on,	85
And publish the occasion of our arms.
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.
An habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.	90
O thou fond many, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now trimm’d in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,	95
That thou provok’st thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl’st to find it. What trust is in these times?	100
They that, when Richard liv’d, would have him die
Are now become enamour’d on his grave.
Thou that threw’st dust upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came sighing on
After th’admired heels of Bolingbroke,	105
Cry’st now, ‘O earth, yield us that King again,
And take thou this!’ O thoughts of men accurs’d!
Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.
MOWBRAY     Shall we go draw our numbers and set on?
HASTINGS
We are time’s subjects, and time bids be gone.	110
Exeunt.

2.1 Enter Hostess, with two officers, FANG with her and SNARE following.

HOSTESS     Master Fang, have you entered the action?
FANG     It is entered.
HOSTESS     Where’s your yeoman? Is’t a lusty yeoman?
Will a stand to’t?
FANG     Sirrah – Where’s Snare?	5
HOSTESS     O Lord, ay! Good Master Snare.
SNARE     Here, here.
FANG     Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
HOSTESS     Yea, good Master Snare, I have entered him
and all.	10
SNARE     It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he
will stab.
HOSTESS     Alas the day, take heed of him – he stabbed me
in mine own house, most beastly in good faith. A cares
not what mischief he does, if his weapon be out; he	15
will foin like any devil, he will spare neither man,
woman, nor child.
FANG     If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
HOSTESS     No, nor I neither; I’ll be at your elbow.
FANG     And I but fist him once, and a come but within	20
my vice, –
HOSTESS     I am undone by his going, I warrant you, he’s
an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang,
hold him sure; good Master Snare, let him not ’scape.
A comes continuantly to Pie Corner – saving your	25
manhoods – to buy a saddle, and he is indited to
dinner to the Lubber’s Head in Lumbert Street to
Master Smooth’s the silkman. I pray you, since my
exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the
world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred	30
mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear, and
I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been
fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this
day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on.
There is no honesty in such dealing, unless a woman	35
should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every
knave’s wrong.
Enter FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH and Page.
Yonder he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave
Bardolph with him. Do your offices, do your offices,
Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me	40
your offices.
FALSTAFF     How now, whose mare’s dead? What’s the
matter?
FANG     Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress
Quickly.	45
FALSTAFF     Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph! Cut me off
the villain’s head! Throw the quean in the channel!
HOSTESS     Throw me in the channel? I’ll throw thee in
the channel. Wilt thou, wilt thou, thou bastardly
rogue? Murder! Murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle	50
villain, wilt thou kill God’s officers and the King’s?
Ah, thou honeyseed rogue! thou art a honeyseed, a
man queller, and a woman queller.
FALSTAFF     Keep them off, Bardolph!
FANG     A rescue! A rescue!	55
HOSTESS     Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou
wot, wot thou, thou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou rogue!
Do, thou hempseed!
PAGE     Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you
fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe!	60
Enter Lord Chief Justice and his men.
CHIEF JUSTICE     What is the matter? Keep the peace
here, ho!
HOSTESS     Good my lord, be good to me, I beseech you
stand to me.
CHIEF JUSTICE
How now, Sir John? What are you brawling here?	65
Doth this become your place, your time, and business?
You should have been well on your way to York.
Stand from him, fellow, wherefore hang’st thou upon
him?
HOSTESS     O my most worshipful lord, and’t please your
Grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is	70
arrested at my suit.
CHIEF JUSTICE     For what sum?
HOSTESS     It is more than for some, my lord, it is for all I
have. He hath eaten me out of house and home, he
hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his: but	75
I will have some of it out again, or I will ride thee a-
nights like the mare.
FALSTAFF     I think I am as like to ride the mare if I have
any vantage of ground to get up.
CHIEF JUSTICE     How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what	80
man of good temper would endure this tempest of
exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor
widow to so rough a course to come by her own?
FALSTAFF     What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
HOSTESS     Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself	85
and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a
parcelgilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin chamber, at
the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in
Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head for
liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor – thou	90
didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound,
to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife. Canst
thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech the butcher’s
wife come in then and call me gossip Quickly? –
coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar, telling us she	95
had a good dish of prawns, whereby thou didst desire
to eat some, whereby I told thee they were ill for a
green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone
downstairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with
such poor people, saying that ere long they should call	100
me madam? And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me
fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy book
oath, deny it if thou canst.
FALSTAFF     My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says
up and down the town that her eldest son is like you.	105
She hath been in good case, and the truth is, poverty
hath distracted her. But for these foolish officers, I
beseech you I may have redress against them.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted
with your manner of wrenching the true cause the	110
false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of
words that come with such more than impudent
sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level
consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practised
upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made	115
her serve your uses both in purse and in person.
HOSTESS     Yea, in truth, my lord.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you
owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done with
her; the one you may do with sterling money, and the	120
other with current repentance.
FALSTAFF     My lord, I will not undergo this sneap
without reply. You call honourable boldness impudent
sauciness; if a man will make curtsy and say nothing,
he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble duty	125
remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say to you I do
desire deliverance from these officers, being upon
hasty employment in the King’s affairs.
CHIEF JUSTICE     You speak as having power to do wrong;
but answer in th’effect of your reputation, and satisfy	130
the poor woman.
FALSTAFF     Come hither, hostess. [Takes her aside.]
Enter GOWER.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Now, Master Gower, what news?
GOWER     The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells.	135
[Gives a letter.]
FALSTAFF     As I am a gentleman!
HOSTESS     Faith, you said so before.
FALSTAFF     As I am a gentleman! Come, no more words
of it.
HOSTESS     By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be	140
fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my
dining-chambers.
FALSTAFF     Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and for
thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the
Prodigal, or the German hunting, in waterwork, is	145
worth a thousand of these bed-hangers and these fly-
bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound if thou canst.
Come, and ’twere not for thy humours, there’s not a
better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw
the action. Come, thou must not be in this humour	150
with me, dost not know me? Come, come, I know thou
wast set on to this.
HOSTESS     Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty
nobles; i’faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God
save me, la!	155
FALSTAFF     Let it alone, I’ll make other shift: you’ll be a
fool still.
HOSTESS     Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my
gown. I hope you’ll come to supper. You’ll pay me all
together?	160
FALSTAFF     Will I live? [to Bardolph] Go, with her, with
her! Hook on, hook on!
HOSTESS     Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at
supper?
FALSTAFF     No more words, let’s have her.	165
Exeunt Hostess, Fang, Snare, Bardolph and Page.
CHIEF JUSTICE     I have heard better news.
FALSTAFF     What’s the news, my lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE     Where lay the King tonight?
GOWER     At Basingstoke, my lord.
FALSTAFF     I hope, my lord, all’s well. What is the news,	170
my lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE     Come all his forces back?
GOWER     No, fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse
Are march’d up to my Lord of Lancaster,
Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.	175
FALSTAFF     Comes the King back from Wales, my noble
lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE     You shall have letters of me presently.
Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
FALSTAFF     My lord!	180
CHIEF JUSTICE     What’s the matter?
FALSTAFF     Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to
dinner?
GOWER     I must wait upon my good lord here, I thank
you, good Sir John.	185
CHIEF JUSTICE     Sir John, you loiter here too long, being
you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go.
FALSTAFF     Will you sup with me, Master Gower?
CHIEF JUSTICE     What foolish master taught you these
manners, Sir John?	190
FALSTAFF     Master Gower, if they become me not, he
was a fool that taught them me. This is the right
fencing grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair.
CHIEF JUSTICE     Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a
great fool.     Exeunt.	195

2.2 Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS.

PRINCE     Before God, I am exceeding weary.
POINS     Is’t come to that? I had thought weariness durst
not have attached one of so high blood.
PRINCE     Faith, it does me, though it discolours the
complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it	5
not show vilely in me to desire small beer?
POINS     Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as
to remember so weak a composition.
PRINCE     Belike then my appetite was not princely got,
for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature	10
small beer. But indeed, these humble considerations
make me out of love with my greatness. What a
disgrace is it to me to remember thy name! or to know
thy face tomorrow! or to take note how many pair
of silk stockings thou hast – viz. these, and those that	15
were thy peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory
of thy shirts – as, one for superfluity, and another
for use! But that the tennis-court keeper knows
better than I, for it is a low ebb of linen with thee
when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not	20
done a great while, because the rest of thy low
countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And
God knows whether those that bawl out the ruins of
thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the midwives
say the children are not in the fault; whereupon	25
the world increases, and kindreds are mightily
strengthened.
POINS     How ill it follows, after you have laboured so
hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good
young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick	30
as yours at this time is.
PRINCE     Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?
POINS     Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good thing.
PRINCE     It shall serve, among wits of no higher breeding
than thine.	35
POINS     Go to, I stand the push of your one thing that you
will tell.
PRINCE     Marry, 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	40
friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed too.
POINS     Very hardly, upon such a subject.
PRINCE     By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the
devil’s book as thou and Falstaff, for obduracy and
persistency. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee,	45
my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick; and
keeping such vile company as thou art hath in reason
taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.
POINS     The reason?
PRINCE     What wouldst thou think of me if I should	50
weep?
POINS     I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
PRINCE     It would be every man’s thought; and thou art a
blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks. Never a
man’s thought in the world keeps the roadway better	55
than thine: every man would think me an hypocrite
indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
thought to think so?
POINS     Why, because you have been so lewd, and so
much engraffed to Falstaff.	60
PRINCE     And to thee.
POINS     By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it
with mine own ears. 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 confess I	65
cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.
Enter BARDOLPH and Page.
PRINCE     And the boy that I gave Falstaff – a had him
from me Christian, and look if the fat villain have not
transformed him ape.
BARDOLPH     God save your Grace!	70
PRINCE     And yours, most noble Bardolph!
POINS     [to Bardolph] Come, you virtuous ass, you
bashful fool, must you be blushing? Wherefore blush
you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms are you
become! Is’t such a matter to get a pottle-pot’s	75
maidenhead?
PAGE     A calls me e’en now, my lord, through a red
lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the
window. At last I spied his eyes, and methought he had
made two holes in the ale-wife’s new petticoat, and so	80
peeped through.
PRINCE     Has not the boy profited?
BARDOLPH     Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!
PAGE     Away, you rascally Althaea’s dream, away!
PRINCE     Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?	85
PAGE     Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamt she was delivered
of a firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.
PRINCE     A crown’s-worth of good interpretation! There
’tis, boy.
POINS     O, that this blossom could be kept from cankers!	90
Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.
BARDOLPH     And you do not make him be hanged among
you, the gallows shall have wrong.
PRINCE     And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH     Well, my lord. He heard of your Grace’s	95
coming to town – there’s a letter for you.
POINS     Delivered with good respect. And how doth the
martlemas your master?
BARDOLPH     In bodily health, sir.
POINS     Marry, the immortal part needs a physician, but	100
that moves not him; though that be sick, it dies not.
PRINCE     I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as
my dog, and he holds his place, for look you how he
writes – [Reads.] John Falstaff, Knight.
POINS     Every man must know that, as oft as he has	105
occasion to name himself: even like those that are kin
to the King, for they never prick their finger but they
say, ‘There’s some of the King’s blood spilt’. ‘How
comes that?’ says he that takes upon him not to
conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower’s cap –	110
‘I am the King’s poor cousin, sir’.
PRINCE     Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it
from Japhet. But the letter: – Sir John Falstaff, Knight,
to the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of
Wales, greeting.	115
POINS     Why, this is a certificate!
PRINCE     Peace! I will imitate the honourable Romans in
brevity.
POINS     He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded.
PRINCE     I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave	120
thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he misuses thy
favours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sister
Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so, farewell.
Thine by yea and no – which is as much as to say, as
thou usest him – Jack Falstaff with my familiars, John	125
with my brothers and sisters, and Sir John with all
Europe.
POINS     My lord, I’ll steep this letter in sack and make
him eat it.
PRINCE     That’s to make him eat twenty of his words.	130
But do you use me thus, Ned? Must I marry your
sister?
POINS     God send the wench no worse fortune! But I
never said so.
PRINCE     Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and	135
the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is
your master here in London?
BARDOLPH     Yea, my lord.
PRINCE     Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the
old frank?	140
BARDOLPH     At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.
PRINCE     What company?
PAGE     Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.
PRINCE     Sup any women with him?
PAGE     None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly, and	145
Mistress Doll Tearsheet.
PRINCE     What pagan may that be?
PAGE     A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of
my master’s.
PRINCE     Even such kin as the parish heifers are to	150
the town bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at
supper?
POINS     I am your shadow, my lord, I’ll follow you.
PRINCE     Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your
master that I am yet come to town – there’s for your	155
silence.
BARDOLPH     I have no tongue, sir.
PAGE     And for mine, sir, I will govern it.
PRINCE     Fare you well; go.
Exeunt Bardolph and Page.
This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.	160
POINS     I warrant you, as common as the way between
Saint Albans and London.
PRINCE     How might we see Falstaff bestow himself
tonight in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?
POINS     Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait	165
upon him at his table as drawers.
PRINCE     From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It
was Jove’s case. From a prince to a prentice? A low
transformation, that shall be mine, for in everything
the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me,	170
Ned.     Exeunt.

2.3 Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND and LADY PERCY.

NORTHUMBERLAND
I pray thee, loving wife and gentle daughter,
Give even way unto my rough affairs;
Put not you on the visage of the times
And be like them to Percy troublesome.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND
I have given over, I will speak no more.	5
Do what you will, your wisdom be your guide.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn,
And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.
LADY PERCY
O yet, for God’s sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word	10
When you were more endear’d to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart’s dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?	15
There were two honours lost, yours and your son’s.
For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move	20
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs that practis’d not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;	25
For those that could speak low and tardily
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him. So that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,	30
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion’d others. And him – O wondrous him!
O miracle of men! – him did you leave,
Second to none, unseconded by you,
To look upon the hideous god of war	35
In disadvantage, to abide a field
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur’s name
Did seem defensible: so you left him.
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
To hold your honour more precise and nice	40
With others than with him! Let them alone.
The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong:
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
Today might I, hanging on Hotspur’s neck,
Have talk’d of Monmouth’s grave.
NORTHUMBERLAND     Beshrew your heart,	45
Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
With new lamenting ancient oversights.
But I must go and meet with danger there,
Or it will seek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.
LADY NORTHUMBERLAND     O, fly to Scotland,	50
Till that the nobles and the armed commons
Have of their puissance made a little taste.
LADY PERCY
If they get ground and vantage of the King,
Then join you with them like a rib of steel,
To make strength stronger: but, for all our loves,	55
First let them try themselves. So did your son;
He was so suffer’d; so came I a widow,
And never shall have length of life enough
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven	60
For recordation to my noble husband.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Come, come, go in with me. ’Tis with my mind
As with the tide swell’d up unto his height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,	65
But many thousand reasons hold me back.
I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company.     Exeunt.

2.4 Enter two Drawers, FRANCIS and another.

FRANCIS
What the devil hast thou brought there – apple-johns?
Thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
2 DRAWER Mass, thou sayst true. The Prince once set a
dish of apple-johns before him, and told him there
were five more Sir Johns; and, putting off his hat, said,	5
‘I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old,
withered knights’. It angered him to the heart; but he
hath forgot that.
FRANCIS     Why then, cover, and set them down, and see
if thou canst find out Sneak’s noise. Mistress	10
Tearsheet would fain hear some music.
Enter Third Drawer.
3 DRAWER Dispatch! The room where they supped is
too hot, they’ll come in straight.
FRANCIS     Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master
Poins anon, and they will put on two of our jerkins and	15
aprons, and Sir John must not know of it; Bardolph
hath brought word.
3 DRAWER By the mass, here will be old utis; it will be an
excellent stratagem.
2 DRAWER I’ll see if I can find out Sneak.	20
Exit with Third Drawer.
Enter Hostess and DOLL TEARSHEET.
HOSTESS     I’faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in
an excellent good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as
extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your colour
I warrant you is as red as any rose, in good truth, la!
But i’faith you have drunk too much canaries, and	25
that’s a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes
the blood ere one can say, ‘What’s this?’ How do you
now?
DOLL     Better than I was – hem!
HOSTESS
Why, that’s well said – a good heart’s worth gold.	30
Lo, here comes Sir John.
Enter FALSTAFF, singing.
FALSTAFF
‘When Arthur first in court’ – Empty the jordan.
Exit Francis.
– ‘And was a worthy king’ – How now, Mistress Doll?
HOSTESS     Sick of a calm, yea, good faith.
FALSTAFF     So is all her sect; and they be once in a calm	35
they are sick.
DOLL     A pox damn you, you muddy rascal, is that all the
comfort you give me?
FALSTAFF     You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
DOLL     I make them? Gluttony and diseases make them,	40
I make them not.
FALSTAFF     If the cook help to make the gluttony, you
help to make the diseases, Doll; we catch of you, Doll,
we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue, grant that.
DOLL     Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.	45
FALSTAFF     ‘Your brooches, pearls, and ouches’ – for to
serve bravely is to come halting off, you know; to come
off the breach, with his pike bent bravely; and to
surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged
chambers bravely; –	50
DOLL     Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang
yourself!
HOSTESS     By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two
never meet but you fall to some discord. You are both
i’ good truth as rheumatic as two dry toasts, you	55
cannot one bear with another’s confirmities. What the
goodyear! one must bear, [to Doll] and that must be
you – you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the
emptier vessel.
DOLL     Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge	60
full hogshead? There’s a whole merchant’s venture
of Bordeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a
hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I’ll be friends
with thee, Jack, thou art going to the wars, and
whether I shall ever see thee again or no there is	65
nobody cares.
Enter Drawer.
DRAWER     Sir, Ancient Pistol’s below, and would speak
with you.
DOLL     Hang him, swaggering rascal, let him not
come hither: it is the foul-mouth’dst rogue in	70
England.
HOSTESS     If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by
my faith! I must live among my neighbours, I’ll no
swaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the very
best. Shut the door, there comes no swaggerers here. I	75
have not lived all this while to have swaggering now.
Shut the door I pray you.
FALSTAFF     Dost thou hear, hostess?
HOSTESS     Pray ye pacify yourself, Sir John, there comes
no swaggerers here.	80
FALSTAFF     Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.
HOSTESS     Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne’er tell me: and your
ancient swagger, a comes not in my doors. I was before
Master Tisick the debuty t’other day, and, as he said
to me – ’twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, i’	85
good faith – ‘Neighbour Quickly,’ says he – Master
Dumb our minister was by then – ‘Neighbour
Quickly,’ says he, ‘receive those that are civil, for’, said
he, ‘you are in an ill name’ – now a said so, I can tell
whereupon. ‘For’, says he, ‘you are an honest woman,	90
and well thought on, therefore take heed what guests
you receive; receive’, says he, ‘no swaggering
companions’: there comes none here. You would bless
you to hear what he said. No, I’ll no swaggerers.
FALSTAFF     He’s no swaggerer, hostess, a tame cheater,	95
i’faith, you may stroke him as gently as a puppy
greyhound. He’ll not swagger with a Barbary hen, if
her feathers turn back in any show of resistance. Call
him up, drawer.     Exit Drawer.
HOSTESS     Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest	100
man my house, nor no cheater, but I do not love
swaggering, by my troth, I am the worse when one
says ‘swagger’. Feel, masters, how I shake, look you, I
warrant you.
DOLL     So you do, hostess.	105
HOSTESS     Do I? Yea, in very truth do I, and ’twere an
aspen leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers.
Enter Ancient PISTOL, BARDOLPH and Page.
PISTOL     God save you, Sir John!
FALSTAFF     Welcome, Ancient Pistol! Here, Pistol, I
charge you with a cup of sack; do you discharge upon	110
mine hostess.
PISTOL     I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two
bullets.
FALSTAFF     She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly
offend her.	115
HOSTESS     Come, I’ll drink no proofs, nor no bullets; I’ll
drink no more than will do me good, for no man’s
pleasure, I.
PISTOL     Then to you, Mistress Dorothy! I will charge
you.	120
DOLL     Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion.
What, you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen
mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for
your master.
PISTOL     I know you, Mistress Dorothy.	125
DOLL     Away, you cutpurse rascal, you filthy bung, away!
By this wine, I’ll thrust my knife in your mouldy
chaps and you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away,
you bottle-ale rascal, you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!
Since when, I pray you, sir? God’s light, with two	130
points on your shoulder? Much!
PISTOL     God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff
for this.
FALSTAFF     No more, Pistol! I would not have you go off
here. Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.	135
HOSTESS
No, good Captain Pistol, not here, sweet captain.
DOLL     Captain! Thou abominable damned cheater, art
thou not ashamed to be called captain? And captains
were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for
taking their names upon you before you have earned	140
them. You a captain? You slave! For what? For tearing
a poor whore’s ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain?
Hang him, rogue, he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes
and dried cakes. A captain? God’s light, these villains
will make the word as odious as the word ‘occupy’,	145
which was an excellent good word before it was ill
sorted: therefore captains had need look to’t.
BARDOLPH     Pray thee go down, good ancient.
FALSTAFF     Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
PISTOL     Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I	150
could tear her! I’ll be revenged of her.
PAGE     Pray thee go down.
PISTOL     I’ll see her damned first! To Pluto’s damnèd
lake, by this hand, to th’infernal deep, with Erebus
and tortures vile also! Hold hook and line, say I!	155
Down, down, dogs! Down, faitors! Have we not Hiren
here? [Draws his sword.]
HOSTESS     Good Captain Peesel, be quiet, ’tis very
late i’ faith; I beseek you now, aggravate your
choler.	160
PISTOL
These be good humours indeed! Shall pack-horses,
And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,
Compare with Caesars and with Cannibals,
And Troyant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with	165
King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar!
Shall we fall foul for toys?
HOSTESS     By my troth, captain, these are very bitter
words.
BARDOLPH     Be gone, good ancient, this will grow to a	170
brawl anon.
PISTOL     Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have
we not Hiren here?
HOSTESS     O’ my word, captain, there’s none such here.
What the goodyear, do you think I would deny her?	175
For God’s sake be quiet.
PISTOL     Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis!
Come, give’s some sack.
Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.
Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire!	180
Give me some sack; and sweetheart, lie thou there!
[Lays down his sword.]
Come we to full points here? And are etceteras nothings?
FALSTAFF     Pistol, I would be quiet.
PISTOL     Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have
seen the seven stars.	185
DOLL     For God’s sake, thrust him downstairs, I cannot
endure such a fustian rascal.
PISTOL     Thrust him downstairs? Know we not Galloway
nags?
FALSTAFF     Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-	190
groat shilling. Nay, and a do nothing but speak
nothing, a shall be nothing here.
BARDOLPH     Come, get you downstairs.
PISTOL     What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
[Snatches up his sword.]
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!	195
Why then let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwind the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
HOSTESS     Here’s goodly stuff toward!
FALSTAFF     Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL     I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee do not draw.	200
FALSTAFF     [drawing] Get you downstairs.
HOSTESS     Here’s a goodly tumult! I’ll forswear keeping
house afore I’ll be in these tirrits and frights! [Falstaff
thrusts at Pistol.] So! Murder, I warrant now! Alas,
alas, put up your naked weapons, put up your naked	205
weapons.     Exit Bardolph, driving Pistol out.
DOLL     I pray thee, Jack, be quiet, the rascal’s gone. Ah,
you whoreson little valiant villain, you!
HOSTESS     Are you not hurt i’th’ groin? Methought a
made a shrewd thrust at your belly.	210
Enter BARDOLPH.
FALSTAFF     Have you turned him out a-doors?
BARDOLPH     Yea, sir, the rascal’s drunk. You have hurt
him, sir, i’th’ shoulder.
FALSTAFF     A rascal, to brave me!
DOLL     Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape,	215
how thou sweat’st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come
on, you whoreson chops! Ah, rogue, i’faith, I love
thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth
five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the
Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!	220
FALSTAFF     A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a
blanket.
DOLL     Do, and thou dar’st for thy heart. And thou dost,
I’ll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
Enter musicians.
PAGE     The music is come, sir.	225
FALSTAFF     Let them play. Play, sirs! [Music.]
Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! The
rogue fled from me like quicksilver.
DOLL     I’faith, and thou followedst him like a church.
Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig,	230
when wilt thou leave fighting a-days, and foining a-
nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for
heaven?
Enter, behind, the PRINCE and POINS disguised as drawers.
FALSTAFF     Peace, good Doll, do not speak like a death’s-
head, do not bid me remember mine end.	235
DOLL     Sirrah, what humour’s the Prince of?
FALSTAFF     A good shallow young fellow; a would have
made a good pantler, a would ha’ chipped bread well.
DOLL     They say Poins has a good wit.
FALSTAFF     He a good wit? Hang him, baboon! His wit’s	240
as thick as Tewkesbury mustard; there’s no more
conceit in him than is in a mallet.
DOLL     Why does the Prince love him so, then?
FALSTAFF     Because their legs are both of a bigness, and
a plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and	245
drinks off candles’ ends for flap-dragons, and rides the
wild mare with the boys, and jumps upon joint-stools,
and swears with a good grace, and wears his boots very
smooth like unto the sign of the Leg, and breeds no
bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other	250
gambol faculties a has that show a weak mind and an
able body, for the which the Prince admits him: for the
Prince himself is such another, the weight of a hair will
turn the scales between their avoirdupois.
PRINCE     Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut	255
off?
POINS     Let’s beat him before his whore.
PRINCE     Look whe’er the withered elder hath not his
poll clawed like a parrot.
POINS     Is it not strange that desire should so many years	260
outlive performance?
FALSTAFF     Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE     Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction!
What says th’almanac to that?
POINS     And look whether the fiery Trigon his man be	265
not lisping to his master’s old tables, his note-book, his
counsel-keeper.
FALSTAFF     Thou dost give me flattering busses.
DOLL     By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant
heart.	270
FALSTAFF     I am old, I am old.
DOLL     I love thee better than I love e’er a scurvy young
boy of them all.
FALSTAFF     What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall
receive money a-Thursday, shalt have a cap tomorrow.	275
A merry song! Come, it grows late, we’ll to bed.
Thou’t forget me when I am gone.
DOLL     By my troth, thou’t set me a-weeping and thou
sayst so. Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till
thy return, – Well, hearken a’th’ end.	280
FALSTAFF     Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE POINS [coming forward] Anon, anon, sir.
FALSTAFF     Ha! A bastard son of the King’s? And art not
thou Poins his brother?
PRINCE     Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life	285
dost thou lead!
FALSTAFF     A better than thou – I am a gentleman, thou
art a drawer.
PRINCE     Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the
ears.	290
HOSTESS     O the Lord preserve thy good Grace! By my
troth, welcome to London! Now the Lord bless that
sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF     Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,
by this light flesh and corrupt blood [leaning his hand	295
upon Doll], thou art welcome.
DOLL     How! You fat fool, I scorn you.
POINS     My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge
and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
PRINCE     You whoreson candle-mine you, how vilely did	300
you speak of me even now, before this honest,
virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
HOSTESS     God’s blessing of your good heart! and so she
is, by my troth.
FALSTAFF     Didst thou hear me?	305
PRINCE     Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you ran
away by Gad’s Hill; you knew I was at your back, and
spoke it on purpose to try my patience.
FALSTAFF     No, no, no, not so; I did not think thou wast
within hearing.	310
PRINCE     I shall drive you then to confess the wilful
abuse, and then I know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF     No abuse, Hal, o’mine honour, no abuse.
PRINCE     Not? – to dispraise me, and call me pantler, and
bread-chipper, and I know not what?	315
FALSTAFF     No abuse, Hal.
POINS     No abuse?
FALSTAFF     No abuse, Ned, i’th’ world, honest Ned,
none. I dispraised him before the wicked [Turns to the
Prince.] that the wicked might not fall in love with	320
thee: in which doing, I have done the part of a careful
friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me
thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no,
faith, boys, none.
PRINCE     See now whether pure fear and entire cowardice	325
doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman
to close with us. Is she of the wicked? Is thine hostess
here of the wicked? Or is thy boy of the wicked? Or
honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the
wicked?	330
POINS     Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
FALSTAFF     The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph
irrecoverable, and his face is Lucifer’s privy-kitchen,
where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the
boy, there is a good angel about him, but the devil	335
attends him too.
PRINCE     For the women?
FALSTAFF     For one of them, she’s in hell already, and
burns poor souls. For th’other, I owe her money, and
whether she be damned for that I know not.	340
HOSTESS     No, I warrant you.
FALSTAFF     No, I think thou art not, I think thou art quit
for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee,
for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to
the law, for the which I think thou wilt howl.	345
HOSTESS     All vict’lers do so. What’s a joint of mutton or
two in a whole Lent?
PRINCE     You, gentlewoman, –
DOLL     What says your Grace?
FALSTAFF     His Grace says that which his flesh rebels	350
against. [Peto knocks at door.]
HOSTESS     Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th’ door
there, Francis.
Enter PETO.
PRINCE     Peto, how now, what news?
PETO     The King your father is at Westminster,	355
And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north; and as I came along
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.	360
PRINCE     By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.	365
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
Exeunt Prince and Poins.
FALSTAFF     Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the
night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.
Knocking within. Exit Bardolph.
More knocking at the door?
Enter BARDOLPH.
How now, what’s the matter?	370
BARDOLPH     You must away to court, sir, presently.
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
FALSTAFF     [to the Page] Pay the musicians, sirrah.
Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good
wenches, how men of merit are sought after; the	375
undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called
on. Farewell, good wenches: if I be not sent away post,
I will see you again ere I go.
DOLL     I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to burst
– Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.	380
FALSTAFF     Farewell, farewell.
Exit with Bardolph, Peto, Page and musicians.
HOSTESS     Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these
twenty-nine years, come peascod-time, but an
honester and truer-hearted man – Well, fare thee well.
BARDOLPH     [at the door] Mistress Tearsheet!	385
HOSTESS     What’s the matter?
BARDOLPH     Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.
HOSTESS     O, run Doll, run; run good Doll; come. She
comes blubbered. [to Doll] Yea, will you come, Doll?
Exeunt.

3.1 Enter the KING in his nightgown, with a page.

KING     Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
But ere they come, bid them o’er-read these letters
And well consider of them. Make good speed.
Exit page.
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,	5
Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,	10
And husht with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why li’st thou with the vile	15
In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch
A watch-case, or a common ’larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,	20
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,
That with the hurly death itself awakes?	25
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a King? Then happy low, lie down!	30
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Enter WARWICK and SURREY.
WARWICK     Many good morrows to your Majesty!
KING     Is it good morrow, lords?
WARWICK     ’Tis one o’clock, and past.
KING     Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.	35
Have you read o’er the letters that I sent you?
WARWICK     We have, my liege.
KING     Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
How foul it is, what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.	40
WARWICK     It is but as a body yet distemper’d,
Which to his former strength may be restor’d
With good advice and little medicine.
My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool’d.
KING     O God, that one might read the book of fate,	45
And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea, and other times to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean	50
Too wide for Neptune’s hips; how chance’s mocks
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,	55
Would shut the book and sit him down and die.
’Tis not ten years gone,
Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together, and in two years after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years since,	60
This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
Who like a brother toil’d in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foot;
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by –	65
[to Warwick] You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember –
When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,
Then check’d and rated by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now prov’d a prophecy?
‘Northumberland, thou ladder by the which	70
My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne’
(Though then, God knows, I had no such intent
But that necessity so bow’d the state
That I and greatness were compell’d to kiss)
‘The time shall come’ – thus did he follow it –	75
‘The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption’ – so went on,
Foretelling this same time’s condition,
And the division of our amity.
WARWICK     There is a history in all men’s lives	80
Figuring the nature of the times deceas’d;
The which observ’d, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, who in their seeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.	85
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And by the necessary form of this
King Richard might create a perfect guess
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness,	90
Which should not find a ground to root upon
Unless on you.
KING     Are these things then necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessities;
And that same word even now cries out on us.
They say the Bishop and Northumberland	95
Are fifty thousand strong.
WARWICK     It cannot be, my lord.
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace
To go to bed: upon my soul, my lord,
The powers that you already have sent forth	100
Shall bring this prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I have receiv’d
A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
And these unseason’d hours perforce must add	105
Unto your sickness.
KING     I will take your counsel.
And were these inward wars once out of hand,
We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. Exeunt.