Complete Plays, The (211 page)

Falstaff

You lie, ye rogue; ’tis going to the king’s tavern.

Gadshill

There’s enough to make us all.

Falstaff

To be hanged.

Prince Henry

Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they ’scape from your encounter, then they light on us.

Peto

How many be there of them?

Gadshill

Some eight or ten.

Falstaff

’Zounds, will they not rob us?

Prince Henry

What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?

Falstaff

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

Prince Henry

Well, we leave that to the proof.

Poins

Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.

Falstaff

Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.

Prince Henry

Ned, where are our disguises?

Poins

Here, hard by: stand close.

Exeunt Prince Henry and Poins

Falstaff

Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: every man to his business.

Enter the Travellers

First Traveller

Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down the hill; we’ll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.

Thieves

Stand!

Travellers

Jesus bless us!

Falstaff

Strike; down with them; cut the villains’ throats: ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.

Travellers

O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!

Falstaff

Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we’ll jure ye, ’faith.

Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt

Re-enter Prince Henry and Poins

Prince Henry

The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month and a good jest for ever.

Poins

Stand close; I hear them coming.

Enter the Thieves again

Falstaff

Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there’s no equity stirring: there’s no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck.

Prince Henry

Your money!

Poins

Villains!

As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them

Prince Henry

Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are all scatter’d and possess’d with fear
So strongly that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Were ’t not for laughing, I should pity him.

Poins

How the rogue roar’d!

Exeunt

S
CENE
III. W
ARKWORTH
CASTLE

Enter Hotspur, solus, reading a letter

Hotspur

“But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.” He could be contented: why is he not, then? In respect of the love he bears our house: he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. “The purpose you undertake is dangerous;”— why, that’s certain: ’tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. “The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition.” Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the general course of action. ’Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady’s fan. Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are they not some of them set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set forward to-night.

Enter Lady Percy

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

Lady Percy

O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish’d woman from my Harry’s bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is’t that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit’st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch’d,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry “Courage! to the field!” And thou hast talk’d
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners’ ransom and of soldiers slain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war
And thus hath so bestirr’d thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appear’d,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.

Hotspur

What, ho!

Enter Servant

Is Gilliams with the packet gone?

Servant

He is, my lord, an hour ago.

Hotspur

Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?

Servant

One horse, my lord, he brought even now.

Hotspur

What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?

Servant

It is, my lord.

Hotspur

 
That roan shall by my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

Exit Servant

Lady Percy

But hear you, my lord.

Hotspur

What say’st thou, my lady?

Lady Percy

What is it carries you away?

Hotspur

Why, my horse, my love, my horse.

Lady Percy

Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss’d with. In faith,
I’ll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title, and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise: but if you go,—

Hotspur

So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.

Lady Percy

Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto this question that I ask:
In faith, I’ll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

Hotspur

Away,
Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses and crack’d crowns,
And pass them current too. God’s me, my horse!
What say’st thou, Kate? what would’st thou have with me?

Lady Percy

Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

Hotspur

Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am on horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise, but yet no farther wise
Than Harry Percy’s wife: constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

Lady Percy

How! so far?

Hotspur

Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
Will this content you, Kate?

Lady Percy

It must of force.

Exeunt

S
CENE
IV. T
HE
B
OAR
’
S
-H
EAD
T
AVERN
, E
ASTCHEAP
.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins

Prince Henry

Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little.

Poins

Where hast been, Hal?

Prince Henry

With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the very base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they cry “hem!” and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet action. But, sweet Ned,— to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spake other English in his life than “Eight shillings and sixpence” and “You are welcome,” with this shrill addition, “Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-Moon,” or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling “Francis,” that his tale to me may be nothing but “Anon.” Step aside, and I’ll show thee a precedent.

Poins

Francis!

Prince Henry

Thou art perfect.

Poins

Francis!

Exit Poins

Enter Francis

Francis

Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.

Prince Henry

Come hither, Francis.

Francis

My lord?

Prince Henry

How long hast thou to serve, Francis?

Francis

Forsooth, five years, and as much as to —

Poins

[Within]
 
Francis!

Francis

Anon, anon, sir.

Prince Henry

Five year! by’r lady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels and run from it?

Francis

O Lord, sir, I’ll be sworn upon all the books in
England, I could find in my heart.

Poins

[Within]
 
Francis!

Francis

Anon, sir.

Prince Henry

How old art thou, Francis?

Francis

Let me see — about Michaelmas next I shall be —

Poins

[Within]
 
Francis!

Francis

Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.

Prince Henry

Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou gavest me,’twas a pennyworth, wast’t not?

Francis

O Lord, I would it had been two!

Prince Henry

I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

Poins

[Within]
 
Francis!

Francis

Anon, anon.

Prince Henry

Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; or, Francis, o’ Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis!

Francis

My lord?

Prince Henry

Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,—

Francis

O Lord, sir, who do you mean?

Prince Henry

Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.