Bard. Save your grace.

P. Henry. And yours, most noble Bardolph. Poins. Come you c virtuous ass, you bashful fool,. must you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? what a maidenly man at arms are you become? Is it such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maiden-head?

Page. He call'd me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could difcern no part of his face from the window; at last I spy'd his eyes, and methought he had made two holes in the ale-wives new petticoat, and peep'd through.,

P. Henry. Hath not the boy profited?

Bard. Away, you whorson upright rabbet, away. Page. Away you rascally Althea's dream, away. P. Henry. Instruct us, boy, what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dream'd she was deliver'd of a firebrand, and therefore I call him her dream.

P. Henry. A crowns-worth of good interpretation;, there it is, boy. [Gives bim mony; Poins. O that this good blofsom could be kept from cankers: well, there is fix pence to preserve thee. Bard. If you do not make him be bang'd among you, the gallows shall be wrong'd,

P. Henry. And how doth thy master, Bardolph? Bard. Well, my good lord; he heard of your grace's coming to town. There's a letter for you.

P. Henry. Deliver'd with good respect; and how. doth the Martlemas, your master ? Bard. In bodily health, Sir.

Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician but that moves not him; though that be sick, it dies

P. Henry. 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.

Poins reads. John Falstaff, knight-every man must know that, as oft as he hath occasion to name himself: even like those that are kin to the King, for they never prick their finger but they say there is 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 borrowed cap; I am the King's poor cousin, Sir.

P. Henry. Nay, they will be kin to us, but they will fetch it from Japhet. But to the letter: Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting. Poins. Why this is a certificate. P. Henry. Peace.

:

I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity.

Poins. Sure he means brevity in breath; short-winded. I commend me to thee, I commend thee and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he misuses thy favou So much, that he swears thou art to marry his Sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may'st, and so farewel. Thine, by yea and no: which is as much as to say, as thou usest him, Jack Falstaff with my familiars: John with my brothers and fifters: and Sir John with all Europe.

My lord, I will steep this letter in sack, and make him eat it.

f

P. Henry. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your

fister?

1.

Poins. May the wench have no worse fortune. But I never faid fo.

P. Henry. Well, thus we play the fool with the time, and the spirits of the wife fit in the clouds and mock us: is your master here in London?

Bard. Yes, my lord.

P. Henry. Where sups he? doth the old Boar feed in

the old + frank ?

† frank, i. e. a Hog-fty..

Bard

7

Bard. At the old place, my lord, in East-cheap.
P. Henry. What company ?

Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.

P. Henry. Sup any women with him?

Page. None, my lord, but old Mrs. Quickly, and

Mrs. Dol Tear-sheet.

P. Henry. What Pagan may that be?

Page. A proper gentlewoman, Sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.

P. Henry. Even such kin, as the parish heifers are to the town Bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, atfupper?

Poins. I am your shadow, my lord, I'll follow you. P. Henry. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that I am yet come to town. There's for your filence.

Bard. I have no tongue, Sir.

Page. And for mine, Sir, I will govern it. P. Henry. Fare ye well: go. This Dol Tear-sheet should be some road.

Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between St. Albans and London.

P. Henry. How might we fee Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not our selves be seen?" Poins. Put on two leather jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at his table, like drawers.

P. Henry. From a God to a Bull? a heavy d descenfion. It was Jove's cafe. From a Prince to a prentice, a low transformation; that shall be mine: for in every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt.

d

declension

SCENES

orthum

SCENE VE

Northumberland.

Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and

North..

I

Lady Percy.

Pr'ythee 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.

L. North. I have giv'n over, I will speak no more:
Do what you will: your wisdom be your guide.
North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn,-
And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

L. Percy. Oh yet for heav'ns fake, go not to these

wars.

Y

The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it, than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart-dear Harry
Threw many a northward look, to see his father
Bring up his pow'rs: but he did long in vain !..
Who then perfuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours loft; yours and your fon's..
For yours, may heav'nly glory brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the fun
In the grey vault of heav'n: and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass -
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves...
e He had no legs, that practis'd not his gait:
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,

Became the accents of the valiant :

For those that could speak low and tardily,

Would

• The twenty two following lines, are of those added bys

Shakespear after his first edition.

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,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd others. And him, wond'rous him!!

miracle of men! him did you leave
To look upon the hideous God of war
In disadvantage, to abide a field
Where nothing but the found of Hot-fpur's name
Did seem defensible: so you left him.
Never, O never do his ghost the wrong,
To hold your honour more precife and nice
With others, than with him. Let them alone:
The Marshal and the Arch-bishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I (hanging on Hot-spur's neck)
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

North. Beshrew your heart,

Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me,
With new lamenting ancient over-fights.
But I must go and meet with danger there;
Or it will feek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.

L. North. Fly to Scotland,

Till that the nobles and the armed commons.
Have of their puissance made a little tafte.

L. Perey. 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,
First let them try themselves. So did your son:

He was so fuffer'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 heav'n,

For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with mys

mind

As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,

That