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Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason, new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theatre.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
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Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
Henry V
,
Romeo and Juliet
, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
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Henry IV, Part 1
, culminates in the battle of Shrewsbury between the king’s army and rebels seeking his crown. The dispute begins when Hotspur, the son of Northumberland, breaks with the king over the fate of his brother-in-law, Mortimer, a Welsh prisoner. Hotspur, Northumberland, and Hotspur’s uncle Worcester plan to take the throne, later allying with Mortimer and a Welsh leader, Glendower.
As that conflict develops, Prince Hal—Henry IV’s son and heir—carouses in a tavern and plots to trick the roguish Sir John Falstaff and his henchmen, who are planning a highway robbery. Hal and a companion will rob them of their loot—then wait for Falstaff’s lying boasts. The trick succeeds, but Prince Hal is summoned to war.
In the war, Hal saves his father’s life and then kills Hotspur, actions that help to redeem his bad reputation. Falstaff, meanwhile, cheats his soldiers, whom he leads to slaughter, and takes credit for Hotspur’s death.
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
the
King
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
and
the
Earl
of
Westmoreland
,
with
others
.
So
shaken
as
we
are
,
so
wan
with
care
,
Find
we
a
time
for
frighted
peace
to
pant
And
breathe
short-winded
accents
of
new
broils
To
be
commenced
in
strands
afar
remote
.
No
more
the
thirsty
entrance
of
this
soil
Shall
daub
her
lips
with
her
own
children’s
blood
.
No
more
shall
trenching
war
channel
her
fields
,
Nor
bruise
her
flow’rets
with
the
armèd
hoofs
Of
hostile
paces
.
Those
opposèd
eyes
,
Which
,
like
the
meteors
of
a
troubled
heaven
,
All
of
one
nature
,
of
one
substance
bred
,
Did
lately
meet
in
the
intestine
shock
And
furious
close
of
civil
butchery
,
Shall
now
,
in
mutual
well-beseeming
ranks
,
March
all
one
way
and
be
no
more
opposed
Against
acquaintance
,
kindred
,
and
allies
.
The
edge
of
war
,
like
an
ill-sheathèd
knife
,
No
more
shall
cut
his
master
.
Therefore
,
friends
,
As
far
as
to
the
sepulcher
of
Christ
—
Whose
soldier
now
,
under
whose
blessèd
cross
We
are
impressèd
and
engaged
to
fight
—
ACT 1. SC. 1
Forthwith
a
power
of
English
shall
we
levy
,
Whose
arms
were
molded
in
their
mothers’
womb
To
chase
these
pagans
in
those
holy
fields
Over
whose
acres
walked
those
blessèd
feet
Which
fourteen
hundred
years
ago
were
nailed
For
our
advantage
on
the
bitter
cross
.
But
this
our
purpose
now
is
twelve
month
old
,
And
bootless
’tis
to
tell
you
we
will
go
.
Therefor
we
meet
not
now
.
Then
let
me
hear
Of
you
,
my
gentle
cousin
Westmoreland
,
What
yesternight
our
council
did
decree
In
forwarding
this
dear
expedience
.
My
liege
,
this
haste
was
hot
in
question
,
And
many
limits
of
the
charge
set
down
But
yesternight
,
when
all
athwart
there
came
A
post
from
Wales
loaden
with
heavy
news
,
Whose
worst
was
that
the
noble
Mortimer
,
Leading
the
men
of
Herefordshire
to
fight
Against
the
irregular
and
wild
Glendower
,
Was
by
the
rude
hands
of
that
Welshman
taken
,
A
thousand
of
his
people
butcherèd
,
Upon
whose
dead
corpse
there
was
such
misuse
,
Such
beastly
shameless
transformation
By
those
Welshwomen
done
,
as
may
not
be
Without
much
shame
retold
or
spoken
of
.
It
seems
then
that
the
tidings
of
this
broil
Brake
off
our
business
for
the
Holy
Land
.
This
matched
with
other
did
,
my
gracious
lord
.
For
more
uneven
and
unwelcome
news
Came
from
the
north
,
and
thus
it
did
import
:
On
Holy-rood
Day
the
gallant
Hotspur
there
,
Young
Harry
Percy
,
and
brave
Archibald
,
That
ever
valiant
and
approvèd
Scot
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
At
Holmedon
met
,
where
they
did
spend
A
sad
and
bloody
hour
—
As
by
discharge
of
their
artillery
And
shape
of
likelihood
the
news
was
told
,
For
he
that
brought
them
,
in
the
very
heat
And
pride
of
their
contention
did
take
horse
,
Uncertain
of
the
issue
any
way
.
Here
is
a
dear
,
a
true-industrious
friend
,
Sir
Walter
Blunt
,
new
lighted
from
his
horse
,
Stained
with
the
variation
of
each
soil
Betwixt
that
Holmedon
and
this
seat
of
ours
,
And
he
hath
brought
us
smooth
and
welcome
news
.
The
Earl
of
Douglas
is
discomfited
;
Ten
thousand
bold
Scots
,
two-and-twenty
knights
,
Balked
in
their
own
blood
,
did
Sir
Walter
see
On
Holmedon’s
plains
.
Of
prisoners
Hotspur
took
Mordake
,
Earl
of
Fife
and
eldest
son
To
beaten
Douglas
,
and
the
Earl
of
Atholl
,
Of
Murray
,
Angus
,
and
Menteith
.
And
is
not
this
an
honorable
spoil
?
A
gallant
prize
?
Ha
,
cousin
,
is
it
not
?
In
faith
,
it
is
a
conquest
for
a
prince
to
boast
of
.
Yea
,
there
thou
mak’st
me
sad
,
and
mak’st
me
sin
In
envy
that
my
Lord
Northumberland
Should
be
the
father
to
so
blest
a
son
,
A
son
who
is
the
theme
of
Honor’s
tongue
,
Amongst
a
grove
the
very
straightest
plant
,
Who
is
sweet
Fortune’s
minion
and
her
pride
;
Whilst
I
,
by
looking
on
the
praise
of
him
,
See
riot
and
dishonor
stain
the
brow
Of
my
young
Harry
.
O
,
that
it
could
be
proved
That
some
night-tripping
fairy
had
exchanged
In
cradle-clothes
our
children
where
they
lay
,
ACT 1. SC. 2
And
called
mine
Percy
,
his
Plantagenet
!
Then
would
I
have
his
Harry
,
and
he
mine
.
But
let
him
from
my
thoughts
.
What
think
you
,
coz
,
Of
this
young
Percy’s
pride
?
The
prisoners
Which
he
in
this
adventure
hath
surprised
To
his
own
use
he
keeps
,
and
sends
me
word
I
shall
have
none
but
Mordake
,
Earl
of
Fife
.
This
is
his
uncle’s
teaching
.
This
is
Worcester
,
Malevolent
to
you
in
all
aspects
,
Which
makes
him
prune
himself
,
and
bristle
up
The
crest
of
youth
against
your
dignity
.
But
I
have
sent
for
him
to
answer
this
.
And
for
this
cause
awhile
we
must
neglect
Our
holy
purpose
to
Jerusalem
.
Cousin
,
on
Wednesday
next
our
council
we
Will
hold
at
Windsor
.
So
inform
the
lords
.
But
come
yourself
with
speed
to
us
again
,
For
more
is
to
be
said
and
to
be
done
Than
out
of
anger
can
be
utterèd
.
I
will
,
my
liege
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Prince
of
Wales
,
and
Sir
John
Falstaff
.
Now
,
Hal
,
what
time
of
day
is
it
,
lad
?
Thou
art
so
fat-witted
with
drinking
of
old
sack
,
and
unbuttoning
thee
after
supper
,
and
sleeping
upon
benches
after
noon
,
that
thou
hast
forgotten
to
demand
that
truly
which
thou
wouldst
truly
know
.
What
a
devil
hast
thou
to
do
with
the
time
of
the
day
?
Unless
hours
were
cups
of
sack
,
and
minutes
capons
,
and
clocks
the
tongues
ACT 1. SC. 2
of
bawds
,
and
dials
the
signs
of
leaping-houses
,
and
the
blessed
sun
himself
a
fair
hot
wench
in
flame-colored
taffeta
,
I
see
no
reason
why
thou
shouldst
be
so
superfluous
to
demand
the
time
of
the
day
.
Indeed
,
you
come
near
me
now
,
Hal
,
for
we
that
take
purses
go
by
the
moon
and
the
seven
stars
,
and
not
by
Phoebus
,
he
,
that
wand’ring
knight
so
fair
.
And
I
prithee
,
sweet
wag
,
when
thou
art
king
,
as
God
save
thy
Grace
—
Majesty
,
I
should
say
,
for
grace
thou
wilt
have
none
—
What
,
none
?
No
,
by
my
troth
,
not
so
much
as
will
serve
to
be
prologue
to
an
egg
and
butter
.
Well
,
how
then
?
Come
,
roundly
,
roundly
.
Marry
then
,
sweet
wag
,
when
thou
art
king
,
let
not
us
that
are
squires
of
the
night’s
body
be
called
thieves
of
the
day’s
beauty
.
Let
us
be
Diana’s
foresters
,
gentlemen
of
the
shade
,
minions
of
the
moon
,
and
let
men
say
we
be
men
of
good
government
,
being
governed
,
as
the
sea
is
,
by
our
noble
and
chaste
mistress
the
moon
,
under
whose
countenance
we
steal
.
Thou
sayest
well
,
and
it
holds
well
too
,
for
the
fortune
of
us
that
are
the
moon’s
men
doth
ebb
and
flow
like
the
sea
,
being
governed
,
as
the
sea
is
,
by
the
moon
.
As
for
proof
now
:
a
purse
of
gold
most
resolutely
snatched
on
Monday
night
and
most
dissolutely
spent
on
Tuesday
morning
,
got
with
swearing
Lay
by
and
spent
with
crying
Bring
in
;
now
in
as
low
an
ebb
as
the
foot
of
the
ladder
,
and
by
and
by
in
as
high
a
flow
as
the
ridge
of
the
gallows
.
By
the
Lord
,
thou
sayst
true
,
lad
.
And
is
not
my
hostess
of
the
tavern
a
most
sweet
wench
?
ACT 1. SC. 2
As
the
honey
of
Hybla
,
my
old
lad
of
the
castle
.
And
is
not
a
buff
jerkin
a
most
sweet
robe
of
durance
?
How
now
,
how
now
,
mad
wag
?
What
,
in
thy
quips
and
thy
quiddities
?
What
a
plague
have
I
to
do
with
a
buff
jerkin
?
Why
,
what
a
pox
have
I
to
do
with
my
hostess
of
the
tavern
?
Well
,
thou
hast
called
her
to
a
reckoning
many
a
time
and
oft
.
Did
I
ever
call
for
thee
to
pay
thy
part
?
No
,
I’ll
give
thee
thy
due
.
Thou
hast
paid
all
there
.
Yea
,
and
elsewhere
,
so
far
as
my
coin
would
stretch
,
and
where
it
would
not
,
I
have
used
my
credit
.
Yea
,
and
so
used
it
that
were
it
not
here
apparent
that
thou
art
heir
apparent
—
But
I
prithee
,
sweet
wag
,
shall
there
be
gallows
standing
in
England
when
thou
art
king
?
And
resolution
thus
fubbed
as
it
is
with
the
rusty
curb
of
old
father
Antic
the
law
?
Do
not
thou
,
when
thou
art
king
,
hang
a
thief
.
No
,
thou
shalt
.
Shall
I
?
O
rare
!
By
the
Lord
,
I’ll
be
a
brave
judge
.
Thou
judgest
false
already
.
I
mean
thou
shalt
have
the
hanging
of
the
thieves
,
and
so
become
a
rare
hangman
.
Well
,
Hal
,
well
,
and
in
some
sort
it
jumps
with
my
humor
as
well
as
waiting
in
the
court
,
I
can
tell
you
.
For
obtaining
of
suits
?
Yea
,
for
obtaining
of
suits
,
whereof
the
hangman
hath
no
lean
wardrobe
.
’Sblood
,
I
am
as
melancholy
as
a
gib
cat
or
a
lugged
bear
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Or
an
old
lion
,
or
a
lover’s
lute
.
Yea
,
or
the
drone
of
a
Lincolnshire
bagpipe
.
What
sayest
thou
to
a
hare
,
or
the
melancholy
of
Moorditch
?
Thou
hast
the
most
unsavory
similes
,
and
art
indeed
the
most
comparative
,
rascaliest
,
sweet
young
prince
.
But
,
Hal
,
I
prithee
trouble
me
no
more
with
vanity
.
I
would
to
God
thou
and
I
knew
where
a
commodity
of
good
names
were
to
be
bought
.
An
old
lord
of
the
council
rated
me
the
other
day
in
the
street
about
you
,
sir
,
but
I
marked
him
not
,
and
yet
he
talked
very
wisely
,
but
I
regarded
him
not
,
and
yet
he
talked
wisely
,
and
in
the
street
,
too
.
Thou
didst
well
,
for
wisdom
cries
out
in
the
streets
and
no
man
regards
it
.
O
,
thou
hast
damnable
iteration
,
and
art
indeed
able
to
corrupt
a
saint
.
Thou
hast
done
much
harm
upon
me
,
Hal
,
God
forgive
thee
for
it
.
Before
I
knew
thee
,
Hal
,
I
knew
nothing
,
and
now
am
I
,
if
a
man
should
speak
truly
,
little
better
than
one
of
the
wicked
.
I
must
give
over
this
life
,
and
I
will
give
it
over
.
By
the
Lord
,
an
I
do
not
,
I
am
a
villain
.
I’ll
be
damned
for
never
a
king’s
son
in
Christendom
.
Where
shall
we
take
a
purse
tomorrow
,
Jack
?
Zounds
,
where
thou
wilt
,
lad
.
I’ll
make
one
.
An
I
do
not
,
call
me
villain
and
baffle
me
.
I
see
a
good
amendment
of
life
in
thee
,
from
praying
to
purse-taking
.
Why
,
Hal
,
’tis
my
vocation
,
Hal
.
’Tis
no
sin
for
a
man
to
labor
in
his
vocation
.
Enter
Poins
.
Poins
!
—
Now
shall
we
know
if
Gadshill
have
set
a
match
.
O
,
if
men
were
to
be
saved
by
merit
,
what
ACT 1. SC. 2
hole
in
hell
were
hot
enough
for
him
?
This
is
the
most
omnipotent
villain
that
ever
cried
Stand
!
to
a
true
man
.
Good
morrow
,
Ned
.
Good
morrow
,
sweet
Hal
.
—
What
says
Monsieur
Remorse
?
What
says
Sir
John
Sack-and-Sugar
?
Jack
,
how
agrees
the
devil
and
thee
about
thy
soul
that
thou
soldest
him
on
Good
Friday
last
for
a
cup
of
Madeira
and
a
cold
capon’s
leg
?
Sir
John
stands
to
his
word
.
The
devil
shall
have
his
bargain
,
for
he
was
never
yet
a
breaker
of
proverbs
.
He
will
give
the
devil
his
due
.
,
to
Falstaff
Then
art
thou
damned
for
keeping
thy
word
with
the
devil
.
Else
he
had
been
damned
for
cozening
the
devil
.
But
,
my
lads
,
my
lads
,
tomorrow
morning
,
by
four
o’clock
early
at
Gad’s
Hill
,
there
are
pilgrims
going
to
Canterbury
with
rich
offerings
,
and
traders
riding
to
London
with
fat
purses
.
I
have
vizards
for
you
all
.
You
have
horses
for
yourselves
.
Gadshill
lies
tonight
in
Rochester
.
I
have
bespoke
supper
tomorrow
night
in
Eastcheap
.
We
may
do
it
as
secure
as
sleep
.
If
you
will
go
,
I
will
stuff
your
purses
full
of
crowns
.
If
you
will
not
,
tarry
at
home
and
be
hanged
.
Hear
you
,
Yedward
,
if
I
tarry
at
home
and
go
not
,
I’ll
hang
you
for
going
.
You
will
,
chops
?
Hal
,
wilt
thou
make
one
?
Who
,
I
rob
?
I
a
thief
?
Not
I
,
by
my
faith
.
There’s
neither
honesty
,
manhood
,
nor
good
fellowship
in
thee
,
nor
thou
cam’st
not
of
the
blood
royal
,
if
thou
darest
not
stand
for
ten
shillings
.
Well
then
,
once
in
my
days
I’ll
be
a
madcap
.
Why
,
that’s
well
said
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Well
,
come
what
will
,
I’ll
tarry
at
home
.
By
the
Lord
,
I’ll
be
a
traitor
then
when
thou
art
king
.
I
care
not
.
Sir
John
,
I
prithee
leave
the
Prince
and
me
alone
.
I
will
lay
him
down
such
reasons
for
this
adventure
that
he
shall
go
.
Well
,
God
give
thee
the
spirit
of
persuasion
,
and
him
the
ears
of
profiting
,
that
what
thou
speakest
may
move
,
and
what
he
hears
may
be
believed
,
that
the
true
prince
may
,
for
recreation
sake
,
prove
a
false
thief
,
for
the
poor
abuses
of
the
time
want
countenance
.
Farewell
.
You
shall
find
me
in
Eastcheap
.
Farewell
,
thou
latter
spring
.
Farewell
,
Allhallown
summer
.
Falstaff
exits
.
Now
,
my
good
sweet
honey
lord
,
ride
with
us
tomorrow
.
I
have
a
jest
to
execute
that
I
cannot
manage
alone
.
Falstaff
,
Peto
,
Bardolph
,
and
Gadshill
shall
rob
those
men
that
we
have
already
waylaid
.
Yourself
and
I
will
not
be
there
.
And
when
they
have
the
booty
,
if
you
and
I
do
not
rob
them
,
cut
this
head
off
from
my
shoulders
.
How
shall
we
part
with
them
in
setting
forth
?
Why
,
we
will
set
forth
before
or
after
them
,
and
appoint
them
a
place
of
meeting
,
wherein
it
is
at
our
pleasure
to
fail
;
and
then
will
they
adventure
upon
the
exploit
themselves
,
which
they
shall
have
no
sooner
achieved
but
we’ll
set
upon
them
.
Yea
,
but
’tis
like
that
they
will
know
us
by
our
horses
,
by
our
habits
,
and
by
every
other
appointment
to
be
ourselves
.
Tut
,
our
horses
they
shall
not
see
;
I’ll
tie
them
in
the
wood
.
Our
vizards
we
will
change
after
we
leave
them
.
And
,
sirrah
,
I
have
cases
of
buckram
for
the
nonce
,
to
immask
our
noted
outward
garments
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Yea
,
but
I
doubt
they
will
be
too
hard
for
us
.
Well
,
for
two
of
them
,
I
know
them
to
be
as
true-bred
cowards
as
ever
turned
back
;
and
for
the
third
,
if
he
fight
longer
than
he
sees
reason
,
I’ll
forswear
arms
.
The
virtue
of
this
jest
will
be
the
incomprehensible
lies
that
this
same
fat
rogue
will
tell
us
when
we
meet
at
supper
:
how
thirty
at
least
he
fought
with
,
what
wards
,
what
blows
,
what
extremities
he
endured
;
and
in
the
reproof
of
this
lives
the
jest
.
Well
,
I’ll
go
with
thee
.
Provide
us
all
things
necessary
and
meet
me
tomorrow
night
in
Eastcheap
.
There
I’ll
sup
.
Farewell
.
Farewell
,
my
lord
.
Poins
exits
.
I
know
you
all
,
and
will
awhile
uphold
The
unyoked
humor
of
your
idleness
.
Yet
herein
will
I
imitate
the
sun
,
Who
doth
permit
the
base
contagious
clouds
To
smother
up
his
beauty
from
the
world
,
That
,
when
he
please
again
to
be
himself
,
Being
wanted
,
he
may
be
more
wondered
at
By
breaking
through
the
foul
and
ugly
mists
Of
vapors
that
did
seem
to
strangle
him
.
If
all
the
year
were
playing
holidays
,
To
sport
would
be
as
tedious
as
to
work
,
But
when
they
seldom
come
,
they
wished-for
come
,
And
nothing
pleaseth
but
rare
accidents
.
So
when
this
loose
behavior
I
throw
off
And
pay
the
debt
I
never
promisèd
,
By
how
much
better
than
my
word
I
am
,
By
so
much
shall
I
falsify
men’s
hopes
;
And
,
like
bright
metal
on
a
sullen
ground
,
My
reformation
,
glitt’ring
o’er
my
fault
,
Shall
show
more
goodly
and
attract
more
eyes
Than
that
which
hath
no
foil
to
set
it
off
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
I’ll
so
offend
to
make
offense
a
skill
,
Redeeming
time
when
men
think
least
I
will
.
He
exits
.
Scene
3
Enter
the
King
,
Northumberland
,
Worcester
,
Hotspur
,
and
Sir
Walter
Blunt
,
with
others
.
,
to
Northumberland
,
Worcester
,
and
Hotspur
My
blood
hath
been
too
cold
and
temperate
,
Unapt
to
stir
at
these
indignities
,
And
you
have
found
me
,
for
accordingly
You
tread
upon
my
patience
.
But
be
sure
I
will
from
henceforth
rather
be
myself
,
Mighty
and
to
be
feared
,
than
my
condition
,
Which
hath
been
smooth
as
oil
,
soft
as
young
down
,
And
therefore
lost
that
title
of
respect
Which
the
proud
soul
ne’er
pays
but
to
the
proud
.
Our
house
,
my
sovereign
liege
,
little
deserves
The
scourge
of
greatness
to
be
used
on
it
,
And
that
same
greatness
too
which
our
own
hands
Have
holp
to
make
so
portly
.
My
lord
—
Worcester
,
get
thee
gone
,
for
I
do
see
Danger
and
disobedience
in
thine
eye
.
O
sir
,
your
presence
is
too
bold
and
peremptory
,
And
majesty
might
never
yet
endure
The
moody
frontier
of
a
servant
brow
.
You
have
good
leave
to
leave
us
.
When
we
need
Your
use
and
counsel
,
we
shall
send
for
you
.
Worcester
exits
.
You
were
about
to
speak
.
Yea
,
my
good
lord
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Those
prisoners
in
your
Highness’
name
demanded
,
Which
Harry
Percy
here
at
Holmedon
took
,
Were
,
as
he
says
,
not
with
such
strength
denied
As
is
delivered
to
your
Majesty
.
Either
envy
,
therefore
,
or
misprision
Is
guilty
of
this
fault
,
and
not
my
son
.
My
liege
,
I
did
deny
no
prisoners
.
But
I
remember
,
when
the
fight
was
done
,
When
I
was
dry
with
rage
and
extreme
toil
,
Breathless
and
faint
,
leaning
upon
my
sword
,
Came
there
a
certain
lord
,
neat
and
trimly
dressed
,
Fresh
as
a
bridegroom
,
and
his
chin
new
reaped
Showed
like
a
stubble
land
at
harvest
home
.
He
was
perfumèd
like
a
milliner
,
And
’twixt
his
finger
and
his
thumb
he
held
A
pouncet
box
,
which
ever
and
anon
He
gave
his
nose
and
took
’t
away
again
,
Who
therewith
angry
,
when
it
next
came
there
,
Took
it
in
snuff
;
and
still
he
smiled
and
talked
.
And
as
the
soldiers
bore
dead
bodies
by
,
He
called
them
untaught
knaves
,
unmannerly
,
To
bring
a
slovenly
unhandsome
corse
Betwixt
the
wind
and
his
nobility
.
With
many
holiday
and
lady
terms
He
questioned
me
,
amongst
the
rest
demanded
My
prisoners
in
your
Majesty’s
behalf
.
I
then
,
all
smarting
with
my
wounds
being
cold
,
To
be
so
pestered
with
a
popinjay
,
Out
of
my
grief
and
my
impatience
Answered
neglectingly
I
know
not
what
—
He
should
,
or
he
should
not
;
for
he
made
me
mad
To
see
him
shine
so
brisk
and
smell
so
sweet
And
talk
so
like
a
waiting-gentlewoman
Of
guns
,
and
drums
,
and
wounds
—
God
save
the
mark
!
—
ACT 1. SC. 3
And
telling
me
the
sovereignest
thing
on
Earth
earth
Was
parmacety
for
an
inward
bruise
,
And
that
it
was
great
pity
,
so
it
was
,
This
villainous
saltpeter
should
be
digged
Out
of
the
bowels
of
the
harmless
Earth
earth
,
Which
many
a
good
tall
fellow
had
destroyed
So
cowardly
,
and
but
for
these
vile
guns
He
would
himself
have
been
a
soldier
.
This
bald
unjointed
chat
of
his
,
my
lord
,
I
answered
indirectly
,
as
I
said
,
And
I
beseech
you
,
let
not
his
report
Come
current
for
an
accusation
Betwixt
my
love
and
your
high
Majesty
.
The
circumstance
considered
,
good
my
lord
,
Whate’er
Lord
Harry
Percy
then
had
said
To
such
a
person
and
in
such
a
place
,
At
such
a
time
,
with
all
the
rest
retold
,
May
reasonably
die
and
never
rise
To
do
him
wrong
or
any
way
impeach
What
then
he
said
,
so
he
unsay
it
now
.
Why
,
yet
he
doth
deny
his
prisoners
,
But
with
proviso
and
exception
That
we
at
our
own
charge
shall
ransom
straight
His
brother-in-law
,
the
foolish
Mortimer
,
Who
,
on
my
soul
,
hath
willfully
betrayed
The
lives
of
those
that
he
did
lead
to
fight
Against
that
great
magician
,
damned
Glendower
,
Whose
daughter
,
as
we
hear
,
that
Earl
of
March
Hath
lately
married
.
Shall
our
coffers
then
Be
emptied
to
redeem
a
traitor
home
?
Shall
we
buy
treason
and
indent
with
fears
When
they
have
lost
and
forfeited
themselves
?
No
,
on
the
barren
mountains
let
him
starve
,
For
I
shall
never
hold
that
man
my
friend
ACT 1. SC. 3
Whose
tongue
shall
ask
me
for
one
penny
cost
To
ransom
home
revolted
Mortimer
.
Revolted
Mortimer
!
He
never
did
fall
off
,
my
sovereign
liege
,
But
by
the
chance
of
war
.
To
prove
that
true
Needs
no
more
but
one
tongue
for
all
those
wounds
,
Those
mouthèd
wounds
,
which
valiantly
he
took
When
on
the
gentle
Severn’s
sedgy
bank
In
single
opposition
hand
to
hand
He
did
confound
the
best
part
of
an
hour
In
changing
hardiment
with
great
Glendower
.
Three
times
they
breathed
,
and
three
times
did
they
drink
,
Upon
agreement
,
of
swift
Severn’s
flood
,
Who
then
,
affrighted
with
their
bloody
looks
,
Ran
fearfully
among
the
trembling
reeds
And
hid
his
crisp
head
in
the
hollow
bank
,
Blood-stainèd
with
these
valiant
combatants
.
Never
did
bare
and
rotten
policy
Color
her
working
with
such
deadly
wounds
,
Nor
never
could
the
noble
Mortimer
Receive
so
many
,
and
all
willingly
.
Then
let
not
him
be
slandered
with
revolt
.
Thou
dost
belie
him
,
Percy
;
thou
dost
belie
him
.
He
never
did
encounter
with
Glendower
.
I
tell
thee
,
he
durst
as
well
have
met
the
devil
alone
As
Owen
Glendower
for
an
enemy
.
Art
thou
not
ashamed
?
But
,
sirrah
,
henceforth
Let
me
not
hear
you
speak
of
Mortimer
.
Send
me
your
prisoners
with
the
speediest
means
,
Or
you
shall
hear
in
such
a
kind
from
me
As
will
displease
you
.
—
My
lord
Northumberland
,
We
license
your
departure
with
your
son
.
—
Send
us
your
prisoners
,
or
you
will
hear
of
it
.
King
exits
with
Blunt
and
others
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
An
if
the
devil
come
and
roar
for
them
,
I
will
not
send
them
.
I
will
after
straight
And
tell
him
so
,
for
I
will
ease
my
heart
,
Albeit
I
make
a
hazard
of
my
head
.
What
,
drunk
with
choler
?
Stay
and
pause
awhile
.
Here
comes
your
uncle
.
Enter
Worcester
.
Speak
of
Mortimer
?
Zounds
,
I
will
speak
of
him
,
and
let
my
soul
Want
mercy
if
I
do
not
join
with
him
.
Yea
,
on
his
part
I’ll
empty
all
these
veins
And
shed
my
dear
blood
drop
by
drop
in
the
dust
,
But
I
will
lift
the
downtrod
Mortimer
As
high
in
the
air
as
this
unthankful
king
,
As
this
ingrate
and
cankered
Bolingbroke
.
Brother
,
the
King
hath
made
your
nephew
mad
.
Who
struck
this
heat
up
after
I
was
gone
?
He
will
forsooth
have
all
my
prisoners
,
And
when
I
urged
the
ransom
once
again
Of
my
wife’s
brother
,
then
his
cheek
looked
pale
,
And
on
my
face
he
turned
an
eye
of
death
,
Trembling
even
at
the
name
of
Mortimer
.
I
cannot
blame
him
.
Was
not
he
proclaimed
By
Richard
,
that
dead
is
,
the
next
of
blood
?
He
was
;
I
heard
the
proclamation
.
And
then
it
was
when
the
unhappy
king
—
Whose
wrongs
in
us
God
pardon
!
—
did
set
forth
Upon
his
Irish
expedition
;
ACT 1. SC. 3
From
whence
he
,
intercepted
,
did
return
To
be
deposed
and
shortly
murderèd
.
And
for
whose
death
we
in
the
world’s
wide
mouth
Live
scandalized
and
foully
spoken
of
.
But
soft
,
I
pray
you
.
Did
King
Richard
then
Proclaim
my
brother
Edmund
Mortimer
Heir
to
the
crown
?
He
did
;
myself
did
hear
it
.
Nay
then
,
I
cannot
blame
his
cousin
king
That
wished
him
on
the
barren
mountains
starve
.
But
shall
it
be
that
you
that
set
the
crown
Upon
the
head
of
this
forgetful
man
And
for
his
sake
wear
the
detested
blot
Of
murderous
subornation
—
shall
it
be
That
you
a
world
of
curses
undergo
,
Being
the
agents
or
base
second
means
,
The
cords
,
the
ladder
,
or
the
hangman
rather
?
O
,
pardon
me
that
I
descend
so
low
To
show
the
line
and
the
predicament
Wherein
you
range
under
this
subtle
king
.
Shall
it
for
shame
be
spoken
in
these
days
,
Or
fill
up
chronicles
in
time
to
come
,
That
men
of
your
nobility
and
power
Did
gage
them
both
in
an
unjust
behalf
(
As
both
of
you
,
God
pardon
it
,
have
done
)
To
put
down
Richard
,
that
sweet
lovely
rose
,
And
plant
this
thorn
,
this
canker
,
Bolingbroke
?
And
shall
it
in
more
shame
be
further
spoken
That
you
are
fooled
,
discarded
,
and
shook
off
By
him
for
whom
these
shames
you
underwent
?
No
,
yet
time
serves
wherein
you
may
redeem
Your
banished
honors
and
restore
yourselves
Into
the
good
thoughts
of
the
world
again
,
ACT 1. SC. 3
Revenge
the
jeering
and
disdained
contempt
Of
this
proud
king
,
who
studies
day
and
night
To
answer
all
the
debt
he
owes
to
you
Even
with
the
bloody
payment
of
your
deaths
.
Therefore
I
say
—
Peace
,
cousin
,
say
no
more
.
And
now
I
will
unclasp
a
secret
book
,
And
to
your
quick-conceiving
discontents
I’ll
read
you
matter
deep
and
dangerous
,
As
full
of
peril
and
adventurous
spirit
As
to
o’erwalk
a
current
roaring
loud
On
the
unsteadfast
footing
of
a
spear
.
If
he
fall
in
,
good
night
,
or
sink
or
swim
!
Send
danger
from
the
east
unto
the
west
,
So
honor
cross
it
from
the
north
to
south
,
And
let
them
grapple
.
O
,
the
blood
more
stirs
To
rouse
a
lion
than
to
start
a
hare
!
,
to
Worcester
Imagination
of
some
great
exploit
Drives
him
beyond
the
bounds
of
patience
.
By
heaven
,
methinks
it
were
an
easy
leap
To
pluck
bright
honor
from
the
pale-faced
moon
,
Or
dive
into
the
bottom
of
the
deep
,
Where
fathom
line
could
never
touch
the
ground
,
And
pluck
up
drownèd
honor
by
the
locks
,
So
he
that
doth
redeem
her
thence
might
wear
Without
corrival
all
her
dignities
.
But
out
upon
this
half-faced
fellowship
!
He
apprehends
a
world
of
figures
here
,
But
not
the
form
of
what
he
should
attend
.
—
Good
cousin
,
give
me
audience
for
a
while
.
I
cry
you
mercy
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Those
same
noble
Scots
That
are
your
prisoners
—
I’ll
keep
them
all
.
By
God
,
he
shall
not
have
a
Scot
of
them
.
No
,
if
a
Scot
would
save
his
soul
,
he
shall
not
.
I’ll
keep
them
,
by
this
hand
!
You
start
away
And
lend
no
ear
unto
my
purposes
:
Those
prisoners
you
shall
keep
—
Nay
,
I
will
.
That’s
flat
!
He
said
he
would
not
ransom
Mortimer
,
Forbade
my
tongue
to
speak
of
Mortimer
.
But
I
will
find
him
when
he
lies
asleep
,
And
in
his
ear
I’ll
hollo
Mortimer
.
Nay
,
I’ll
have
a
starling
shall
be
taught
to
speak
Nothing
but
Mortimer
,
and
give
it
him
To
keep
his
anger
still
in
motion
.
Hear
you
,
cousin
,
a
word
.
All
studies
here
I
solemnly
defy
,
Save
how
to
gall
and
pinch
this
Bolingbroke
.
And
that
same
sword-and-buckler
Prince
of
Wales
—
But
that
I
think
his
father
loves
him
not
And
would
be
glad
he
met
with
some
mischance
—
I
would
have
him
poisoned
with
a
pot
of
ale
.
Farewell
,
kinsman
.
I’ll
talk
to
you
When
you
are
better
tempered
to
attend
.
,
to
Hotspur
Why
,
what
a
wasp-stung
and
impatient
fool
Art
thou
to
break
into
this
woman’s
mood
,
Tying
thine
ear
to
no
tongue
but
thine
own
!
Why
,
look
you
,
I
am
whipped
and
scourged
with
rods
,
Nettled
and
stung
with
pismires
,
when
I
hear
ACT 1. SC. 3
Of
this
vile
politician
,
Bolingbroke
.
In
Richard’s
time
—
what
do
you
call
the
place
?
A
plague
upon
it
!
It
is
in
Gloucestershire
.
’Twas
where
the
madcap
duke
his
uncle
kept
,
His
uncle
York
,
where
I
first
bowed
my
knee
Unto
this
king
of
smiles
,
this
Bolingbroke
.
’Sblood
,
when
you
and
he
came
back
from
Ravenspurgh
.
At
Berkeley
Castle
.
You
say
true
.
Why
,
what
a
candy
deal
of
courtesy
This
fawning
greyhound
then
did
proffer
me
:
Look
when
his
infant
fortune
came
to
age
,
And
gentle
Harry
Percy
,
and
kind
cousin
.
O
,
the
devil
take
such
cozeners
!
—
God
forgive
me
!
Good
uncle
,
tell
your
tale
.
I
have
done
.
Nay
,
if
you
have
not
,
to
it
again
.
We
will
stay
your
leisure
.
I
have
done
,
i’
faith
.
Then
once
more
to
your
Scottish
prisoners
:
Deliver
them
up
without
their
ransom
straight
,
And
make
the
Douglas’
son
your
only
mean
For
powers
in
Scotland
,
which
,
for
divers
reasons
Which
I
shall
send
you
written
,
be
assured
Will
easily
be
granted
.
—
You
,
my
lord
,
Your
son
in
Scotland
being
thus
employed
,
Shall
secretly
into
the
bosom
creep
Of
that
same
noble
prelate
well
beloved
,
The
Archbishop
.
Of
York
,
is
it
not
?
True
,
who
bears
hard
His
brother’s
death
at
Bristol
,
the
Lord
Scroop
.
I
speak
not
this
in
estimation
,
ACT 1. SC. 3
As
what
I
think
might
be
,
but
what
I
know
Is
ruminated
,
plotted
,
and
set
down
,
And
only
stays
but
to
behold
the
face
Of
that
occasion
that
shall
bring
it
on
.
I
smell
it
.
Upon
my
life
it
will
do
well
.
Before
the
game
is
afoot
thou
still
let’st
slip
.
Why
,
it
cannot
choose
but
be
a
noble
plot
.
And
then
the
power
of
Scotland
and
of
York
To
join
with
Mortimer
,
ha
?
And
so
they
shall
.
In
faith
,
it
is
exceedingly
well
aimed
.
And
’tis
no
little
reason
bids
us
speed
To
save
our
heads
by
raising
of
a
head
,
For
bear
ourselves
as
even
as
we
can
,
The
King
will
always
think
him
in
our
debt
,
And
think
we
think
ourselves
unsatisfied
,
Till
he
hath
found
a
time
to
pay
us
home
.
And
see
already
how
he
doth
begin
To
make
us
strangers
to
his
looks
of
love
.
He
does
,
he
does
.
We’ll
be
revenged
on
him
.
Cousin
,
farewell
.
No
further
go
in
this
Than
I
by
letters
shall
direct
your
course
.
When
time
is
ripe
,
which
will
be
suddenly
,
I’ll
steal
to
Glendower
and
Lord
Mortimer
,
Where
you
and
Douglas
and
our
powers
at
once
,
As
I
will
fashion
it
,
shall
happily
meet
To
bear
our
fortunes
in
our
own
strong
arms
,
Which
now
we
hold
at
much
uncertainty
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Farewell
,
good
brother
.
We
shall
thrive
,
I
trust
.
Uncle
,
adieu
.
O
,
let
the
hours
be
short
Till
fields
and
blows
and
groans
applaud
our
sport
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
a
Carrier
with
a
lantern
in
his
hand
.
Heigh-ho
!
An
it
be
not
four
by
the
day
,
I’ll
be
hanged
.
Charles’s
Wain
is
over
the
new
chimney
,
and
yet
our
horse
not
packed
.
—
What
,
ostler
!
,
within
Anon
,
anon
.
I
prithee
,
Tom
,
beat
Cut’s
saddle
.
Put
a
few
flocks
in
the
point
.
Poor
jade
is
wrung
in
the
withers
out
of
all
cess
.
Enter
another
Carrier
,
with
a
lantern
.
Peas
and
beans
are
as
dank
here
as
a
dog
,
and
that
is
the
next
way
to
give
poor
jades
the
bots
.
This
house
is
turned
upside
down
since
Robin
ostler
died
.
Poor
fellow
never
joyed
since
the
price
of
oats
rose
.
It
was
the
death
of
him
.
I
think
this
be
the
most
villainous
house
in
all
London
road
for
fleas
.
I
am
stung
like
a
tench
.
Like
a
tench
?
By
the
Mass
,
there
is
ne’er
a
king
christen
could
be
better
bit
than
I
have
been
since
the
first
cock
.
Why
,
they
will
allow
us
ne’er
a
jordan
,
ACT 2. SC. 1
and
then
we
leak
in
your
chimney
,
and
your
chamber-lye
breeds
fleas
like
a
loach
.
What
,
ostler
,
come
away
and
be
hanged
.
Come
away
.
I
have
a
gammon
of
bacon
and
two
races
of
ginger
to
be
delivered
as
far
as
Charing
Cross
.
God’s
body
,
the
turkeys
in
my
pannier
are
quite
starved
.
—
What
,
ostler
!
A
plague
on
thee
!
Hast
thou
never
an
eye
in
thy
head
?
Canst
not
hear
?
An
’twere
not
as
good
deed
as
drink
to
break
the
pate
on
thee
,
I
am
a
very
villain
.
Come
,
and
be
hanged
.
Hast
no
faith
in
thee
?
Enter
Gadshill
.
Good
morrow
,
carriers
.
What’s
o’clock
?
I
think
it
be
two
o’clock
.
I
prithee
,
lend
me
thy
lantern
to
see
my
gelding
in
the
stable
.
Nay
,
by
God
,
soft
.
I
know
a
trick
worth
two
of
that
,
i’
faith
.
,
to
Second
Carrier
I
pray
thee
,
lend
me
thine
.
Ay
,
when
,
canst
tell
?
Lend
me
thy
lantern
,
quoth
he
.
Marry
,
I’ll
see
thee
hanged
first
.
Sirrah
carrier
,
what
time
do
you
mean
to
come
to
London
?
Time
enough
to
go
to
bed
with
a
candle
,
I
warrant
thee
.
Come
,
neighbor
Mugs
,
we’ll
call
up
the
gentlemen
.
They
will
along
with
company
,
for
they
have
great
charge
.
Carriers
exit
.
What
ho
,
chamberlain
!
Enter
Chamberlain
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
At
hand
,
quoth
pickpurse
.
That’s
even
as
fair
as
at
hand
,
quoth
the
Chamberlain
,
for
thou
variest
no
more
from
picking
of
purses
than
giving
direction
doth
from
laboring
:
thou
layest
the
plot
how
.
Good
morrow
,
Master
Gadshill
.
It
holds
current
that
I
told
you
yesternight
:
there’s
a
franklin
in
the
Wild
of
Kent
hath
brought
three
hundred
marks
with
him
in
gold
.
I
heard
him
tell
it
to
one
of
his
company
last
night
at
supper
—
a
kind
of
auditor
,
one
that
hath
abundance
of
charge
too
,
God
knows
what
.
They
are
up
already
and
call
for
eggs
and
butter
.
They
will
away
presently
.
Sirrah
,
if
they
meet
not
with
Saint
Nicholas’
clerks
,
I’ll
give
thee
this
neck
.
No
,
I’ll
none
of
it
.
I
pray
thee
,
keep
that
for
the
hangman
,
for
I
know
thou
worshipest
Saint
Nicholas
as
truly
as
a
man
of
falsehood
may
.
What
talkest
thou
to
me
of
the
hangman
?
If
I
hang
,
I’ll
make
a
fat
pair
of
gallows
,
for
if
I
hang
,
old
Sir
John
hangs
with
me
,
and
thou
knowest
he
is
no
starveling
.
Tut
,
there
are
other
Troyans
that
thou
dream’st
not
of
,
the
which
for
sport
sake
are
content
to
do
the
profession
some
grace
,
that
would
,
if
matters
should
be
looked
into
,
for
their
own
credit
sake
make
all
whole
.
I
am
joined
with
no
foot-land-rakers
,
no
long-staff
sixpenny
strikers
,
none
of
these
mad
mustachio
purple-hued
malt-worms
,
but
with
nobility
and
tranquillity
,
burgomasters
and
great
oneyers
,
such
as
can
hold
in
,
such
as
will
strike
sooner
than
speak
,
and
speak
sooner
than
drink
,
and
drink
sooner
than
pray
,
and
yet
,
zounds
,
I
lie
,
for
they
pray
continually
to
their
saint
the
commonwealth
,
or
rather
not
pray
to
her
but
prey
on
her
,
for
they
ride
up
and
down
on
her
and
make
her
their
boots
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
What
,
the
commonwealth
their
boots
?
Will
she
hold
out
water
in
foul
way
?
She
will
,
she
will
.
Justice
hath
liquored
her
.
We
steal
as
in
a
castle
,
cocksure
.
We
have
the
receipt
of
fern
seed
;
we
walk
invisible
.
Nay
,
by
my
faith
,
I
think
you
are
more
beholding
to
the
night
than
to
fern
seed
for
your
walking
invisible
.
Give
me
thy
hand
.
Thou
shalt
have
a
share
in
our
purchase
,
as
I
am
a
true
man
.
Nay
,
rather
let
me
have
it
as
you
are
a
false
thief
.
Go
to
.
Homo
is
a
common
name
to
all
men
.
Bid
the
ostler
bring
my
gelding
out
of
the
stable
.
Farewell
,
you
muddy
knave
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Prince
,
Poins
,
Bardolph
,
and
Peto
.
Come
,
shelter
,
shelter
!
I
have
removed
Falstaff’s
horse
,
and
he
frets
like
a
gummed
velvet
.
Stand
close
.
Poins
,
Bardolph
,
and
Peto
exit
.
Enter
Falstaff
.
Poins
!
Poins
,
and
be
hanged
!
Poins
!
Peace
,
you
fat-kidneyed
rascal
.
What
a
brawling
dost
thou
keep
!
Where’s
Poins
,
Hal
?
He
is
walked
up
to
the
top
of
the
hill
.
I’ll
go
seek
him
.
Prince
exits
.
I
am
accursed
to
rob
in
that
thief’s
company
.
The
rascal
hath
removed
my
horse
and
tied
him
I
know
not
where
.
If
I
travel
but
four
foot
by
the
square
further
afoot
,
I
shall
break
my
wind
.
Well
,
I
ACT 2. SC. 2
doubt
not
but
to
die
a
fair
death
for
all
this
,
if
I
’scape
hanging
for
killing
that
rogue
.
I
have
forsworn
his
company
hourly
any
time
this
two-and-twenty
years
,
and
yet
I
am
bewitched
with
the
rogue’s
company
.
If
the
rascal
have
not
given
me
medicines
to
make
me
love
him
,
I’ll
be
hanged
.
It
could
not
be
else
:
I
have
drunk
medicines
.
—
Poins
!
Hal
!
A
plague
upon
you
both
.
—
Bardolph
!
Peto
!
—
I’ll
starve
ere
I’ll
rob
a
foot
further
.
An
’twere
not
as
good
a
deed
as
drink
to
turn
true
man
and
to
leave
these
rogues
,
I
am
the
veriest
varlet
that
ever
chewed
with
a
tooth
.
Eight
yards
of
uneven
ground
is
threescore
and
ten
miles
afoot
with
me
,
and
the
stony-hearted
villains
know
it
well
enough
.
A
plague
upon
it
when
thieves
cannot
be
true
one
to
another
!
(
They
whistle
,
within
.
)
Whew
!
A
plague
upon
you
all
!
Enter
the
Prince
,
Poins
,
Peto
,
and
Bardolph
.
Give
me
my
horse
,
you
rogues
.
Give
me
my
horse
and
be
hanged
!
Peace
,
you
fat
guts
!
Lie
down
,
lay
thine
ear
close
to
the
ground
,
and
list
if
thou
canst
hear
the
tread
of
travelers
.
Have
you
any
levers
to
lift
me
up
again
being
down
?
’Sblood
,
I’ll
not
bear
my
own
flesh
so
far
afoot
again
for
all
the
coin
in
thy
father’s
Exchequer
.
What
a
plague
mean
you
to
colt
me
thus
?
Thou
liest
.
Thou
art
not
colted
;
thou
art
uncolted
.
I
prithee
,
good
Prince
Hal
,
help
me
to
my
horse
,
good
king’s
son
.
Out
,
you
rogue
!
Shall
I
be
your
ostler
?
Hang
thyself
in
thine
own
heir-apparent
garters
!
If
I
be
ta’en
,
I’ll
peach
for
this
.
An
I
have
ACT 2. SC. 2
not
ballads
made
on
you
all
and
sung
to
filthy
tunes
,
let
a
cup
of
sack
be
my
poison
—
when
a
jest
is
so
forward
,
and
afoot
too
!
I
hate
it
.
Enter
Gadshill
.
Stand
.
So
I
do
,
against
my
will
.
O
,
’tis
our
setter
.
I
know
his
voice
.
What
news
?
Case
you
,
case
you
.
On
with
your
vizards
.
There’s
money
of
the
King’s
coming
down
the
hill
.
’Tis
going
to
the
King’s
Exchequer
.
You
lie
,
you
rogue
.
’Tis
going
to
the
King’s
Tavern
.
There’s
enough
to
make
us
all
.
To
be
hanged
.
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
.
How
many
be
there
of
them
?
Some
eight
or
ten
.
Zounds
,
will
they
not
rob
us
?
What
,
a
coward
,
Sir
John
Paunch
?
Indeed
,
I
am
not
John
of
Gaunt
,
your
grandfather
,
but
yet
no
coward
,
Hal
.
Well
,
we
leave
that
to
the
proof
.
Sirrah
Jack
,
thy
horse
stands
behind
the
hedge
.
When
thou
need’st
him
,
there
thou
shalt
find
him
.
Farewell
and
stand
fast
.
Now
cannot
I
strike
him
,
if
I
should
be
hanged
.
,
aside
to
Poins
Ned
,
where
are
our
disguises
?
,
aside
to
Prince
Here
,
hard
by
.
Stand
close
.
The
Prince
and
Poins
exit
.
Now
,
my
masters
,
happy
man
be
his
dole
,
say
I
.
Every
man
to
his
business
.
They
step
aside
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Enter
the
Travelers
.
Come
,
neighbor
,
the
boy
shall
lead
our
horses
down
the
hill
.
We’ll
walk
afoot
awhile
and
ease
our
legs
.
,
advancing
Stand
!
Jesus
bless
us
!
Strike
!
Down
with
them
!
Cut
the
villains’
throats
!
Ah
,
whoreson
caterpillars
,
bacon-fed
knaves
,
they
hate
us
youth
.
Down
with
them
!
Fleece
them
!
O
,
we
are
undone
,
both
we
and
ours
forever
!
Hang
,
you
gorbellied
knaves
!
Are
you
undone
?
No
,
you
fat
chuffs
.
I
would
your
store
were
here
.
On
,
bacons
,
on
!
What
,
you
knaves
,
young
men
must
live
.
You
are
grandjurors
,
are
you
?
We’ll
jure
you
,
faith
.
Here
they
rob
them
and
bind
them
.
They
all
exit
.
Enter
the
Prince
and
Poins
,
disguised
.
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
forever
.
Stand
close
,
I
hear
them
coming
.
They
step
aside
.
Enter
the
Thieves
again
.
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
valor
in
that
Poins
than
in
a
wild
duck
.
As
they
are
sharing
,
the
Prince
and
Poins
set
upon
them
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
Your
money
!
Villains
!
They
all
run
away
,
and
Falstaff
,
after
a
blow
or
two
,
runs
away
too
,
leaving
the
booty
behind
them
.
Got
with
much
ease
.
Now
merrily
to
horse
.
The
thieves
are
all
scattered
,
and
possessed
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
.
How
the
fat
rogue
roared
!
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Hotspur
alone
,
reading
a
letter
.
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
ACT 2. SC. 3
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
the
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
honorable
an
action
!
Hang
him
,
let
him
tell
the
King
.
We
are
prepared
.
I
will
set
forward
tonight
.
Enter
his
Lady
.
How
now
,
Kate
?
I
must
leave
you
within
these
two
hours
.
O
my
good
lord
,
why
are
you
thus
alone
?
For
what
offense
have
I
this
fortnight
been
A
banished
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
curst
melancholy
?
In
thy
faint
slumbers
I
by
thee
have
watched
,
ACT 2. SC. 3
And
heard
thee
murmur
tales
of
iron
wars
,
Speak
terms
of
manage
to
thy
bounding
steed
,
Cry
Courage
!
To
the
field
!
And
thou
hast
talked
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
bestirred
thee
in
thy
sleep
,
That
beads
of
sweat
have
stood
upon
thy
brow
Like
bubbles
in
a
late-disturbèd
stream
,
And
in
thy
face
strange
motions
have
appeared
,
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
.
What
,
ho
!
Enter
a
Servant
.
Is
Gilliams
with
the
packet
gone
?
He
is
,
my
lord
,
an
hour
ago
.
Hath
Butler
brought
those
horses
from
the
sheriff
?
One
horse
,
my
lord
,
he
brought
even
now
.
What
horse
?
A
roan
,
a
crop-ear
,
is
it
not
?
It
is
,
my
lord
.
That
roan
shall
be
my
throne
.
Well
,
I
will
back
him
straight
.
O
,
Esperance
!
Bid
Butler
lead
him
forth
into
the
park
.
Servant
exits
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
But
hear
you
,
my
lord
.
What
say’st
thou
,
my
lady
?
What
is
it
carries
you
away
?
Why
,
my
horse
,
my
love
,
my
horse
.
Out
,
you
mad-headed
ape
!
A
weasel
hath
not
such
a
deal
of
spleen
As
you
are
tossed
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
—
So
far
afoot
,
I
shall
be
weary
,
love
.
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
.
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
cracked
crowns
,
And
pass
them
current
too
.
—
Gods
me
,
my
horse
!
—
What
say’st
thou
,
Kate
?
What
wouldst
thou
have
with
me
?
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
.
Come
,
wilt
thou
see
me
ride
?
And
when
I
am
a-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
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
How
?
So
far
?
Not
an
inch
further
.
But
hark
you
,
Kate
,
Whither
I
go
,
thither
shall
you
go
too
.
Today
will
I
set
forth
,
tomorrow
you
.
Will
this
content
you
,
Kate
?
It
must
,
of
force
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Enter
Prince
and
Poins
.
Ned
,
prithee
,
come
out
of
that
fat
room
and
lend
me
thy
hand
to
laugh
a
little
.
Where
hast
been
,
Hal
?
With
three
or
four
loggerheads
amongst
three
or
fourscore
hogsheads
.
I
have
sounded
the
very
bass
string
of
humility
.
Sirrah
,
I
am
sworn
brother
to
a
leash
of
drawers
,
and
can
call
them
all
by
their
Christian
names
,
as
Tom
,
Dick
,
and
Francis
.
They
take
it
already
upon
their
salvation
that
though
I
be
but
Prince
of
Wales
,
yet
I
am
the
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
,
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
honor
that
thou
wert
not
with
me
in
this
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
underskinker
,
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
exits
.
,
within
Francis
!
Thou
art
perfect
.
,
within
Francis
!
Enter
Francis
,
the
Drawer
.
Anon
,
anon
,
sir
.
—
Look
down
into
the
Pomgarnet
,
Ralph
.
Come
hither
,
Francis
.
My
lord
?
How
long
hast
thou
to
serve
,
Francis
?
Forsooth
,
five
years
,
and
as
much
as
to
—
,
within
Francis
!
Anon
,
anon
,
sir
.
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
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
O
Lord
,
sir
,
I’ll
be
sworn
upon
all
the
books
in
England
,
I
could
find
in
my
heart
—
,
within
Francis
!
Anon
,
sir
.
How
old
art
thou
,
Francis
?
Let
me
see
.
About
Michaelmas
next
,
I
shall
be
—
,
within
Francis
!
Anon
,
sir
.
—
Pray
,
stay
a
little
,
my
lord
.
Nay
,
but
hark
you
,
Francis
,
for
the
sugar
thou
gavest
me
—
’twas
a
pennyworth
,
was
’t
not
?
O
Lord
,
I
would
it
had
been
two
!
I
will
give
thee
for
it
a
thousand
pound
.
Ask
me
when
thou
wilt
,
and
thou
shalt
have
it
.
,
within
Francis
!
Anon
,
anon
.
Anon
,
Francis
?
No
,
Francis
.
But
tomorrow
,
Francis
;
or
,
Francis
,
o’
Thursday
;
or
indeed
,
Francis
,
when
thou
wilt
.
But
,
Francis
—
My
lord
?
Wilt
thou
rob
this
leathern-jerkin
,
crystal-button
,
not-pated
,
agate-ring
,
puke-stocking
,
caddis-garter
,
smooth-tongue
,
Spanish-pouch
—
O
Lord
,
sir
,
who
do
you
mean
?
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
.
What
,
sir
?
,
within
Francis
!
Away
,
you
rogue
!
Dost
thou
not
hear
them
call
?
Here
they
both
call
him
.
The
Drawer
stands
amazed
,
not
knowing
which
way
to
go
.
Enter
Vintner
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
What
,
stand’st
thou
still
and
hear’st
such
a
calling
?
Look
to
the
guests
within
.
Francis
exits
.
My
lord
,
old
Sir
John
with
half
a
dozen
more
are
at
the
door
.
Shall
I
let
them
in
?
Let
them
alone
awhile
,
and
then
open
the
door
.
Vintner
exits
.
Poins
!
Enter
Poins
.
Anon
,
anon
,
sir
.
Sirrah
,
Falstaff
and
the
rest
of
the
thieves
are
at
the
door
.
Shall
we
be
merry
?
As
merry
as
crickets
,
my
lad
.
But
hark
you
,
what
cunning
match
have
you
made
with
this
jest
of
the
drawer
.
Come
,
what’s
the
issue
?
I
am
now
of
all
humors
that
have
showed
themselves
humors
since
the
old
days
of
Goodman
Adam
to
the
pupil
age
of
this
present
twelve
o’clock
at
midnight
.
Enter
Francis
,
in
haste
.
What’s
o’clock
,
Francis
?
Anon
,
anon
,
sir
.
Francis
exits
.
That
ever
this
fellow
should
have
fewer
words
than
a
parrot
,
and
yet
the
son
of
a
woman
!
His
industry
is
upstairs
and
downstairs
,
his
eloquence
the
parcel
of
a
reckoning
.
I
am
not
yet
of
Percy’s
mind
,
the
Hotspur
of
the
north
,
he
that
kills
me
some
six
or
seven
dozen
of
Scots
at
a
breakfast
,
washes
his
hands
,
and
says
to
his
wife
Fie
upon
this
quiet
life
!
I
want
work
.
O
my
sweet
Harry
,
says
she
,
how
many
hast
thou
killed
today
?
Give
my
roan
horse
a
drench
,
says
he
,
and
answers
Some
fourteen
,
an
hour
after
.
A
trifle
,
a
trifle
.
I
prithee
,
call
in
Falstaff
.
I’ll
play
Percy
,
and
that
damned
brawn
shall
play
Dame
Mortimer
his
wife
.
Rivo
!
says
the
drunkard
.
Call
in
Ribs
,
call
in
Tallow
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Enter
Falstaff
,
Gadshill
,
Peto
,
Bardolph
;
and
Francis
,
with
wine
.
Welcome
,
Jack
.
Where
hast
thou
been
?
A
plague
of
all
cowards
,
I
say
,
and
a
vengeance
too
!
Marry
and
amen
!
—
Give
me
a
cup
of
sack
,
boy
.
—
Ere
I
lead
this
life
long
,
I’ll
sew
netherstocks
and
mend
them
,
and
foot
them
too
.
A
plague
of
all
cowards
!
—
Give
me
a
cup
of
sack
,
rogue
!
—
Is
there
no
virtue
extant
?
He
drinketh
.
Didst
thou
never
see
Titan
kiss
a
dish
of
butter
—
pitiful-hearted
Titan
!
—
that
melted
at
the
sweet
tale
of
the
sun’s
?
If
thou
didst
,
then
behold
that
compound
.
,
to
Francis
You
rogue
,
here’s
lime
in
this
sack
too
.
—
There
is
nothing
but
roguery
to
be
found
in
villainous
man
,
yet
a
coward
is
worse
than
a
cup
of
sack
with
lime
in
it
.
A
villainous
coward
!
Go
thy
ways
,
old
Jack
.
Die
when
thou
wilt
.
If
manhood
,
good
manhood
,
be
not
forgot
upon
the
face
of
the
Earth
earth
,
then
am
I
a
shotten
herring
.
There
lives
not
three
good
men
unhanged
in
England
,
and
one
of
them
is
fat
and
grows
old
,
God
help
the
while
.
A
bad
world
,
I
say
.
I
would
I
were
a
weaver
.
I
could
sing
psalms
,
or
anything
.
A
plague
of
all
cowards
,
I
say
still
.
How
now
,
woolsack
,
what
mutter
you
?
A
king’s
son
!
If
I
do
not
beat
thee
out
of
thy
kingdom
with
a
dagger
of
lath
,
and
drive
all
thy
subjects
afore
thee
like
a
flock
of
wild
geese
,
I’ll
never
wear
hair
on
my
face
more
.
You
,
Prince
of
Wales
!
Why
,
you
whoreson
round
man
,
what’s
the
matter
?
Are
not
you
a
coward
?
Answer
me
to
that
—
and
Poins
there
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
Zounds
,
you
fat
paunch
,
an
you
call
me
coward
,
by
the
Lord
,
I’ll
stab
thee
.
I
call
thee
coward
?
I’ll
see
thee
damned
ere
I
call
thee
coward
,
but
I
would
give
a
thousand
pound
I
could
run
as
fast
as
thou
canst
.
You
are
straight
enough
in
the
shoulders
you
care
not
who
sees
your
back
.
Call
you
that
backing
of
your
friends
?
A
plague
upon
such
backing
!
Give
me
them
that
will
face
me
.
—
Give
me
a
cup
of
sack
.
—
I
am
a
rogue
if
I
drunk
today
.
O
villain
,
thy
lips
are
scarce
wiped
since
thou
drunk’st
last
.
All
is
one
for
that
.
(
He
drinketh
.
)
A
plague
of
all
cowards
,
still
say
I
.
What’s
the
matter
?
What’s
the
matter
?
There
be
four
of
us
here
have
ta’en
a
thousand
pound
this
day
morning
.
Where
is
it
,
Jack
,
where
is
it
?
Where
is
it
?
Taken
from
us
it
is
.
A
hundred
upon
poor
four
of
us
.
What
,
a
hundred
,
man
?
I
am
a
rogue
if
I
were
not
at
half-sword
with
a
dozen
of
them
two
hours
together
.
I
have
’scaped
by
miracle
.
I
am
eight
times
thrust
through
the
doublet
,
four
through
the
hose
,
my
buckler
cut
through
and
through
,
my
sword
hacked
like
a
handsaw
.
Ecce
signum
!
I
never
dealt
better
since
I
was
a
man
.
All
would
not
do
.
A
plague
of
all
cowards
!
Let
them
speak
.
Pointing
to
Gadshill
,
Bardolph
,
and
Peto
.
If
they
speak
more
or
less
than
truth
,
they
are
villains
,
and
the
sons
of
darkness
.
Speak
,
sirs
,
how
was
it
?
We
four
set
upon
some
dozen
.
Sixteen
at
least
,
my
lord
.
And
bound
them
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
No
,
no
,
they
were
not
bound
.
You
rogue
,
they
were
bound
,
every
man
of
them
,
or
I
am
a
Jew
else
,
an
Ebrew
Jew
.
As
we
were
sharing
,
some
six
or
seven
fresh
men
set
upon
us
.
And
unbound
the
rest
,
and
then
come
in
the
other
.
What
,
fought
you
with
them
all
?
All
?
I
know
not
what
you
call
all
,
but
if
I
fought
not
with
fifty
of
them
I
am
a
bunch
of
radish
.
If
there
were
not
two-
or
three-and-fifty
upon
poor
old
Jack
,
then
am
I
no
two-legged
creature
.
Pray
God
you
have
not
murdered
some
of
them
.
Nay
,
that’s
past
praying
for
.
I
have
peppered
two
of
them
.
Two
I
am
sure
I
have
paid
,
two
rogues
in
buckram
suits
.
I
tell
thee
what
,
Hal
,
if
I
tell
thee
a
lie
,
spit
in
my
face
,
call
me
horse
.
Thou
knowest
my
old
ward
.
Here
I
lay
,
and
thus
I
bore
my
point
.
Four
rogues
in
buckram
let
drive
at
me
.
What
,
four
?
Thou
said’st
but
two
even
now
.
Four
,
Hal
,
I
told
thee
four
.
Ay
,
ay
,
he
said
four
.
These
four
came
all
afront
,
and
mainly
thrust
at
me
.
I
made
me
no
more
ado
,
but
took
all
their
seven
points
in
my
target
,
thus
.
Seven
?
Why
there
were
but
four
even
now
.
In
buckram
?
Ay
,
four
in
buckram
suits
.
Seven
by
these
hilts
,
or
I
am
a
villain
else
.
,
to
Poins
Prithee
,
let
him
alone
.
We
shall
have
more
anon
.
Dost
thou
hear
me
,
Hal
?
Ay
,
and
mark
thee
too
,
Jack
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Do
so
,
for
it
is
worth
the
listening
to
.
These
nine
in
buckram
that
I
told
thee
of
—
So
,
two
more
already
.
Their
points
being
broken
—
Down
fell
their
hose
.
Began
to
give
me
ground
,
but
I
followed
me
close
,
came
in
foot
and
hand
,
and
,
with
a
thought
,
seven
of
the
eleven
I
paid
.
O
monstrous
!
Eleven
buckram
men
grown
out
of
two
!
But
as
the
devil
would
have
it
,
three
misbegotten
knaves
in
Kendal
green
came
at
my
back
,
and
let
drive
at
me
,
for
it
was
so
dark
,
Hal
,
that
thou
couldst
not
see
thy
hand
.
These
lies
are
like
their
father
that
begets
them
,
gross
as
a
mountain
,
open
,
palpable
.
Why
,
thou
claybrained
guts
,
thou
knotty-pated
fool
,
thou
whoreson
,
obscene
,
greasy
tallow-catch
—
What
,
art
thou
mad
?
Art
thou
mad
?
Is
not
the
truth
the
truth
?
Why
,
how
couldst
thou
know
these
men
in
Kendal
green
when
it
was
so
dark
thou
couldst
not
see
thy
hand
?
Come
,
tell
us
your
reason
.
What
sayest
thou
to
this
?
Come
,
your
reason
,
Jack
,
your
reason
.
What
,
upon
compulsion
?
Zounds
,
an
I
were
at
the
strappado
or
all
the
racks
in
the
world
,
I
would
not
tell
you
on
compulsion
.
Give
you
a
reason
on
compulsion
?
If
reasons
were
as
plentiful
as
blackberries
,
I
would
give
no
man
a
reason
upon
compulsion
,
I
.
I’ll
be
no
longer
guilty
of
this
sin
.
This
sanguine
coward
,
this
bed-presser
,
this
horse-backbreaker
,
this
huge
hill
of
flesh
—
’Sblood
,
you
starveling
,
you
elfskin
,
you
dried
neat’s
tongue
,
you
bull’s
pizzle
,
you
stockfish
!
ACT 2. SC. 4
O
,
for
breath
to
utter
what
is
like
thee
!
You
tailor’s
yard
,
you
sheath
,
you
bowcase
,
you
vile
standing
tuck
—
Well
,
breathe
awhile
,
and
then
to
it
again
,
and
when
thou
hast
tired
thyself
in
base
comparisons
,
hear
me
speak
but
this
.
Mark
,
Jack
.
We
two
saw
you
four
set
on
four
,
and
bound
them
and
were
masters
of
their
wealth
.
Mark
now
how
a
plain
tale
shall
put
you
down
.
Then
did
we
two
set
on
you
four
and
,
with
a
word
,
outfaced
you
from
your
prize
,
and
have
it
,
yea
,
and
can
show
it
you
here
in
the
house
.
And
,
Falstaff
,
you
carried
your
guts
away
as
nimbly
,
with
as
quick
dexterity
,
and
roared
for
mercy
,
and
still
run
and
roared
,
as
ever
I
heard
bull-calf
.
What
a
slave
art
thou
to
hack
thy
sword
as
thou
hast
done
,
and
then
say
it
was
in
fight
!
What
trick
,
what
device
,
what
starting-hole
canst
thou
now
find
out
to
hide
thee
from
this
open
and
apparent
shame
?
Come
,
let’s
hear
,
Jack
.
What
trick
hast
thou
now
?
By
the
Lord
,
I
knew
you
as
well
as
he
that
made
you
.
Why
,
hear
you
,
my
masters
,
was
it
for
me
to
kill
the
heir
apparent
?
Should
I
turn
upon
the
true
prince
?
Why
,
thou
knowest
I
am
as
valiant
as
Hercules
,
but
beware
instinct
.
The
lion
will
not
touch
the
true
prince
.
Instinct
is
a
great
matter
.
I
was
now
a
coward
on
instinct
.
I
shall
think
the
better
of
myself
,
and
thee
,
during
my
life
—
I
for
a
valiant
lion
,
and
thou
for
a
true
prince
.
But
,
by
the
Lord
,
lads
,
I
am
glad
you
have
the
money
.
—
Hostess
,
clap
to
the
doors
.
—
Watch
tonight
,
pray
tomorrow
.
Gallants
,
lads
,
boys
,
hearts
of
gold
,
all
the
titles
of
good
fellowship
come
to
you
.
What
,
shall
we
be
merry
?
Shall
we
have
a
play
extempore
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
Content
,
and
the
argument
shall
be
thy
running
away
.
Ah
,
no
more
of
that
,
Hal
,
an
thou
lovest
me
.
Enter
Hostess
.
O
Jesu
,
my
lord
the
Prince
—
How
now
,
my
lady
the
hostess
,
what
sayst
thou
to
me
?
Marry
,
my
lord
,
there
is
a
nobleman
of
the
court
at
door
would
speak
with
you
.
He
says
he
comes
from
your
father
.
Give
him
as
much
as
will
make
him
a
royal
man
and
send
him
back
again
to
my
mother
.
What
manner
of
man
is
he
?
An
old
man
.
What
doth
Gravity
out
of
his
bed
at
midnight
?
Shall
I
give
him
his
answer
?
Prithee
do
,
Jack
.
Faith
,
and
I’ll
send
him
packing
.
He
exits
.
Now
,
sirs
.
To
Gadshill
.
By
’r
Lady
,
you
fought
fair
.
—
So
did
you
,
Peto
.
—
So
did
you
,
Bardolph
.
—
You
are
lions
too
.
You
ran
away
upon
instinct
.
You
will
not
touch
the
true
prince
.
No
,
fie
!
Faith
,
I
ran
when
I
saw
others
run
.
Faith
,
tell
me
now
in
earnest
,
how
came
Falstaff’s
sword
so
hacked
?
Why
,
he
hacked
it
with
his
dagger
and
said
he
would
swear
truth
out
of
England
but
he
would
make
you
believe
it
was
done
in
fight
,
and
persuaded
us
to
do
the
like
.
Yea
,
and
to
tickle
our
noses
with
speargrass
to
make
them
bleed
,
and
then
to
beslubber
our
garments
with
it
,
and
swear
it
was
the
blood
of
true
men
.
I
did
that
I
did
not
this
seven
year
before
:
I
blushed
to
hear
his
monstrous
devices
.
O
villain
,
thou
stolest
a
cup
of
sack
eighteen
ACT 2. SC. 4
years
ago
,
and
wert
taken
with
the
manner
,
and
ever
since
thou
hast
blushed
extempore
.
Thou
hadst
fire
and
sword
on
thy
side
,
and
yet
thou
ran’st
away
.
What
instinct
hadst
thou
for
it
?
My
lord
,
do
you
see
these
meteors
?
Do
you
behold
these
exhalations
?
I
do
.
What
think
you
they
portend
?
Hot
livers
and
cold
purses
.
Choler
,
my
lord
,
if
rightly
taken
.
No
.
If
rightly
taken
,
halter
.
Enter
Falstaff
.
Here
comes
lean
Jack
.
Here
comes
bare-bone
.
—
How
now
,
my
sweet
creature
of
bombast
?
How
long
is
’t
ago
,
Jack
,
since
thou
sawest
thine
own
knee
?
My
own
knee
?
When
I
was
about
thy
years
,
Hal
,
I
was
not
an
eagle’s
talon
in
the
waist
.
I
could
have
crept
into
any
alderman’s
thumb-ring
.
A
plague
of
sighing
and
grief
!
It
blows
a
man
up
like
a
bladder
.
There’s
villainous
news
abroad
.
Here
was
Sir
John
Bracy
from
your
father
.
You
must
to
the
court
in
the
morning
.
That
same
mad
fellow
of
the
north
,
Percy
,
and
he
of
Wales
that
gave
Amamon
the
bastinado
,
and
made
Lucifer
cuckold
,
and
swore
the
devil
his
true
liegeman
upon
the
cross
of
a
Welsh
hook
—
what
a
plague
call
you
him
?
Owen
Glendower
.
Owen
,
Owen
,
the
same
,
and
his
son-in-law
Mortimer
,
and
old
Northumberland
,
and
that
sprightly
Scot
of
Scots
,
Douglas
,
that
runs
a-horseback
up
a
hill
perpendicular
—
He
that
rides
at
high
speed
,
and
with
his
pistol
kills
a
sparrow
flying
.
You
have
hit
it
.
So
did
he
never
the
sparrow
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Well
,
that
rascal
hath
good
mettle
in
him
.
He
will
not
run
.
Why
,
what
a
rascal
art
thou
then
to
praise
him
so
for
running
?
A-horseback
,
you
cuckoo
,
but
afoot
he
will
not
budge
a
foot
.
Yes
,
Jack
,
upon
instinct
.
I
grant
you
,
upon
instinct
.
Well
,
he
is
there
too
,
and
one
Mordake
,
and
a
thousand
blue-caps
more
.
Worcester
is
stolen
away
tonight
.
Thy
father’s
beard
is
turned
white
with
the
news
.
You
may
buy
land
now
as
cheap
as
stinking
mackerel
.
Why
then
,
it
is
like
if
there
come
a
hot
June
,
and
this
civil
buffeting
hold
,
we
shall
buy
maidenheads
as
they
buy
hobnails
,
by
the
hundreds
.
By
the
Mass
,
thou
sayest
true
.
It
is
like
we
shall
have
good
trading
that
way
.
But
tell
me
,
Hal
,
art
not
thou
horrible
afeard
?
Thou
being
heir
apparent
,
could
the
world
pick
thee
out
three
such
enemies
again
as
that
fiend
Douglas
,
that
spirit
Percy
,
and
that
devil
Glendower
?
Art
thou
not
horribly
afraid
?
Doth
not
thy
blood
thrill
at
it
?
Not
a
whit
,
i’
faith
.
I
lack
some
of
thy
instinct
.
Well
,
thou
wilt
be
horribly
chid
tomorrow
when
thou
comest
to
thy
father
.
If
thou
love
me
,
practice
an
answer
.
Do
thou
stand
for
my
father
and
examine
me
upon
the
particulars
of
my
life
.
Shall
I
?
Content
.
He
sits
down
.
This
chair
shall
be
my
state
,
this
dagger
my
scepter
,
and
this
cushion
my
crown
.
Thy
state
is
taken
for
a
joined
stool
,
thy
golden
scepter
for
a
leaden
dagger
,
and
thy
precious
rich
crown
for
a
pitiful
bald
crown
.
Well
,
an
the
fire
of
grace
be
not
quite
out
of
thee
,
now
shalt
thou
be
moved
.
—
Give
me
a
cup
of
ACT 2. SC. 4
sack
to
make
my
eyes
look
red
,
that
it
may
be
thought
I
have
wept
,
for
I
must
speak
in
passion
,
and
I
will
do
it
in
King
Cambyses’
vein
.
,
bowing
Well
,
here
is
my
leg
.
And
here
is
my
speech
.
As
King
.
Stand
aside
,
nobility
.
O
Jesu
,
this
is
excellent
sport
,
i’
faith
!
,
as
King
Weep
not
,
sweet
queen
,
for
trickling
tears
are
vain
.
O
the
Father
,
how
he
holds
his
countenance
!
,
as
King
For
God’s
sake
,
lords
,
convey
my
tristful
queen
,
For
tears
do
stop
the
floodgates
of
her
eyes
.
O
Jesu
,
he
doth
it
as
like
one
of
these
harlotry
players
as
ever
I
see
.
Peace
,
good
pint-pot
.
Peace
,
good
tickle-brain
.
—
As
King
.
Harry
,
I
do
not
only
marvel
where
thou
spendest
thy
time
,
but
also
how
thou
art
accompanied
.
For
though
the
camomile
,
the
more
it
is
trodden
on
,
the
faster
it
grows
,
so
youth
,
the
more
it
is
wasted
,
the
sooner
it
wears
.
That
thou
art
my
son
I
have
partly
thy
mother’s
word
,
partly
my
own
opinion
,
but
chiefly
a
villainous
trick
of
thine
eye
and
a
foolish
hanging
of
thy
nether
lip
that
doth
warrant
me
.
If
then
thou
be
son
to
me
,
here
lies
the
point
:
why
,
being
son
to
me
,
art
thou
so
pointed
at
?
Shall
the
blessed
sun
of
heaven
prove
a
micher
and
eat
blackberries
?
A
question
not
to
be
asked
.
Shall
the
son
of
England
prove
a
thief
and
take
purses
?
A
question
to
be
asked
.
There
is
a
thing
,
Harry
,
which
thou
hast
often
heard
of
,
and
it
is
known
to
many
in
our
land
by
the
name
of
pitch
.
This
pitch
,
as
ancient
writers
do
report
,
doth
defile
;
so
doth
the
company
thou
keepest
.
For
,
Harry
,
now
I
do
not
speak
to
thee
in
drink
,
but
in
tears
;
not
in
pleasure
,
but
in
passion
;
ACT 2. SC. 4
not
in
words
only
,
but
in
woes
also
.
And
yet
there
is
a
virtuous
man
whom
I
have
often
noted
in
thy
company
,
but
I
know
not
his
name
.
What
manner
of
man
,
an
it
like
your
Majesty
?
,
as
King
A
goodly
portly
man
,
i’
faith
,
and
a
corpulent
;
of
a
cheerful
look
,
a
pleasing
eye
,
and
a
most
noble
carriage
,
and
,
as
I
think
,
his
age
some
fifty
,
or
,
by
’r
Lady
,
inclining
to
threescore
;
and
now
I
remember
me
,
his
name
is
Falstaff
.
If
that
man
should
be
lewdly
given
,
he
deceiveth
me
,
for
,
Harry
,
I
see
virtue
in
his
looks
.
If
then
the
tree
may
be
known
by
the
fruit
,
as
the
fruit
by
the
tree
,
then
peremptorily
I
speak
it
:
there
is
virtue
in
that
Falstaff
;
him
keep
with
,
the
rest
banish
.
And
tell
me
now
,
thou
naughty
varlet
,
tell
me
where
hast
thou
been
this
month
?
Dost
thou
speak
like
a
king
?
Do
thou
stand
for
me
,
and
I’ll
play
my
father
.
,
rising
Depose
me
?
If
thou
dost
it
half
so
gravely
,
so
majestically
,
both
in
word
and
matter
,
hang
me
up
by
the
heels
for
a
rabbit-sucker
or
a
poulter’s
hare
.
,
sitting
down
Well
,
here
I
am
set
.
And
here
I
stand
.
—
Judge
,
my
masters
.
,
as
King
Now
,
Harry
,
whence
come
you
?
,
as
Prince
My
noble
lord
,
from
Eastcheap
.
,
as
King
The
complaints
I
hear
of
thee
are
grievous
.
,
as
Prince
’Sblood
,
my
lord
,
they
are
false
.
—
Nay
,
I’ll
tickle
you
for
a
young
prince
,
i’
faith
.
,
as
King
Swearest
thou
?
Ungracious
boy
,
henceforth
ne’er
look
on
me
.
Thou
art
violently
carried
away
from
grace
.
There
is
a
devil
haunts
thee
in
the
likeness
of
an
old
fat
man
.
A
tun
of
man
is
thy
companion
.
Why
dost
thou
converse
with
that
trunk
of
humors
,
that
bolting-hutch
of
beastliness
,
ACT 2. SC. 4
that
swollen
parcel
of
dropsies
,
that
huge
bombard
of
sack
,
that
stuffed
cloakbag
of
guts
,
that
roasted
Manningtree
ox
with
the
pudding
in
his
belly
,
that
reverend
Vice
,
that
gray
iniquity
,
that
father
ruffian
,
that
vanity
in
years
?
Wherein
is
he
good
,
but
to
taste
sack
and
drink
it
?
Wherein
neat
and
cleanly
but
to
carve
a
capon
and
eat
it
?
Wherein
cunning
but
in
craft
?
Wherein
crafty
but
in
villainy
?
Wherein
villainous
but
in
all
things
?
Wherein
worthy
but
in
nothing
?
,
as
Prince
I
would
your
Grace
would
take
me
with
you
.
Whom
means
your
Grace
?
,
as
King
That
villainous
abominable
misleader
of
youth
,
Falstaff
,
that
old
white-bearded
Satan
.
,
as
Prince
My
lord
,
the
man
I
know
.
,
as
King
I
know
thou
dost
.
,
as
Prince
But
to
say
I
know
more
harm
in
him
than
in
myself
were
to
say
more
than
I
know
.
That
he
is
old
,
the
more
the
pity
;
his
white
hairs
do
witness
it
.
But
that
he
is
,
saving
your
reverence
,
a
whoremaster
,
that
I
utterly
deny
.
If
sack
and
sugar
be
a
fault
,
God
help
the
wicked
.
If
to
be
old
and
merry
be
a
sin
,
then
many
an
old
host
that
I
know
is
damned
.
If
to
be
fat
be
to
be
hated
,
then
Pharaoh’s
lean
kine
are
to
be
loved
.
No
,
my
good
lord
,
banish
Peto
,
banish
Bardolph
,
banish
Poins
,
but
for
sweet
Jack
Falstaff
,
kind
Jack
Falstaff
,
true
Jack
Falstaff
,
valiant
Jack
Falstaff
,
and
therefore
more
valiant
being
as
he
is
old
Jack
Falstaff
,
banish
not
him
thy
Harry’s
company
,
banish
not
him
thy
Harry’s
company
.
Banish
plump
Jack
,
and
banish
all
the
world
.
I
do
,
I
will
.
A
loud
knocking
,
and
Bardolph
,
Hostess
,
and
Francis
exit
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Enter
Bardolph
running
.
O
my
lord
,
my
lord
,
the
Sheriff
with
a
most
monstrous
watch
is
at
the
door
.
Out
,
you
rogue
.
—
Play
out
the
play
.
I
have
much
to
say
in
the
behalf
of
that
Falstaff
.
Enter
the
Hostess
.
O
Jesu
,
my
lord
,
my
lord
—
Heigh
,
heigh
,
the
devil
rides
upon
a
fiddlestick
.
What’s
the
matter
?
The
Sheriff
and
all
the
watch
are
at
the
door
.
They
are
come
to
search
the
house
.
Shall
I
let
them
in
?
Dost
thou
hear
,
Hal
?
Never
call
a
true
piece
of
gold
a
counterfeit
.
Thou
art
essentially
made
without
seeming
so
.
And
thou
a
natural
coward
without
instinct
.
I
deny
your
major
.
If
you
will
deny
the
Sheriff
,
so
;
if
not
,
let
him
enter
.
If
I
become
not
a
cart
as
well
as
another
man
,
a
plague
on
my
bringing
up
.
I
hope
I
shall
as
soon
be
strangled
with
a
halter
as
another
.
,
standing
Go
hide
thee
behind
the
arras
.
The
rest
walk
up
above
.
—
Now
,
my
masters
,
for
a
true
face
and
good
conscience
.
Both
which
I
have
had
,
but
their
date
is
out
;
and
therefore
I’ll
hide
me
.
He
hides
.
Call
in
the
Sheriff
.
All
but
the
Prince
and
Peto
exit
.
Enter
Sheriff
and
the
Carrier
.
Now
,
Master
Sheriff
,
what
is
your
will
with
me
?
First
pardon
me
,
my
lord
.
A
hue
and
cry
Hath
followed
certain
men
unto
this
house
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
What
men
?
One
of
them
is
well
known
,
my
gracious
lord
.
A
gross
fat
man
.
As
fat
as
butter
.
The
man
I
do
assure
you
is
not
here
,
For
I
myself
at
this
time
have
employed
him
.
And
,
sheriff
,
I
will
engage
my
word
to
thee
That
I
will
by
tomorrow
dinner
time
Send
him
to
answer
thee
or
any
man
For
anything
he
shall
be
charged
withal
.
And
so
let
me
entreat
you
leave
the
house
.
I
will
,
my
lord
.
There
are
two
gentlemen
Have
in
this
robbery
lost
three
hundred
marks
.
It
may
be
so
.
If
he
have
robbed
these
men
,
He
shall
be
answerable
;
and
so
farewell
.
Good
night
,
my
noble
lord
.
I
think
it
is
good
morrow
,
is
it
not
?
Indeed
,
my
lord
,
I
think
it
be
two
o’clock
.
He
exits
with
the
Carrier
.
This
oily
rascal
is
known
as
well
as
Paul’s
.
Go
call
him
forth
.
Falstaff
!
—
Fast
asleep
behind
the
arras
,
and
snorting
like
a
horse
.
Hark
,
how
hard
he
fetches
breath
.
Search
his
pockets
.
(
He
searcheth
his
pocket
,
and
findeth
certain
papers
.
)
What
hast
thou
found
?
Nothing
but
papers
,
my
lord
.
Let’s
see
what
they
be
.
Read
them
.
reads
Item
,
a
capon
,
…
2s
.
2d
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Item
,
sauce
,
…
4d
.
Item
,
sack
,
two
gallons
,
…
5s
.
8d
.
Item
,
anchovies
and
sack
after
supper
,
…
2s
.
6d
.
Item
,
bread
,
…
ob
.
O
monstrous
!
But
one
halfpennyworth
of
bread
to
this
intolerable
deal
of
sack
?
What
there
is
else
,
keep
close
.
We’ll
read
it
at
more
advantage
.
There
let
him
sleep
till
day
.
I’ll
to
the
court
in
the
morning
.
We
must
all
to
the
wars
,
and
thy
place
shall
be
honorable
.
I’ll
procure
this
fat
rogue
a
charge
of
foot
,
and
I
know
his
death
will
be
a
march
of
twelve
score
.
The
money
shall
be
paid
back
again
with
advantage
.
Be
with
me
betimes
in
the
morning
,
and
so
good
morrow
,
Peto
.
Good
morrow
,
good
my
lord
.
They
exit
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Enter
Hotspur
,
Worcester
,
Lord
Mortimer
,
and
Owen
Glendower
.
These
promises
are
fair
,
the
parties
sure
,
And
our
induction
full
of
prosperous
hope
.
Lord
Mortimer
and
cousin
Glendower
,
Will
you
sit
down
?
And
uncle
Worcester
—
A
plague
upon
it
,
I
have
forgot
the
map
.
No
,
here
it
is
.
Sit
,
cousin
Percy
,
Sit
,
good
cousin
Hotspur
,
for
by
that
name
As
oft
as
Lancaster
doth
speak
of
you
His
cheek
looks
pale
,
and
with
a
rising
sigh
He
wisheth
you
in
heaven
.
And
you
in
hell
,
As
oft
as
he
hears
Owen
Glendower
spoke
of
.
I
cannot
blame
him
.
At
my
nativity
The
front
of
heaven
was
full
of
fiery
shapes
,
Of
burning
cressets
,
and
at
my
birth
The
frame
and
huge
foundation
of
the
Earth
earth
Shaked
like
a
coward
.
Why
,
so
it
would
have
done
ACT 3. SC. 1
At
the
same
season
if
your
mother’s
cat
Had
but
kittened
,
though
yourself
had
never
been
born
.
I
say
the
Earth
earth
did
shake
when
I
was
born
.
And
I
say
the
Earth
earth
was
not
of
my
mind
,
If
you
suppose
as
fearing
you
it
shook
.
The
heavens
were
all
on
fire
;
the
Earth
earth
did
tremble
.
O
,
then
the
Earth
earth
shook
to
see
the
heavens
on
fire
,
And
not
in
fear
of
your
nativity
.
Diseasèd
nature
oftentimes
breaks
forth
In
strange
eruptions
;
oft
the
teeming
Earth
earth
Is
with
a
kind
of
colic
pinched
and
vexed
By
the
imprisoning
of
unruly
wind
Within
her
womb
,
which
,
for
enlargement
striving
,
Shakes
the
old
beldam
Earth
earth
and
topples
down
Steeples
and
moss-grown
towers
.
At
your
birth
Our
grandam
Earth
earth
,
having
this
distemp’rature
,
In
passion
shook
.
Cousin
,
of
many
men
I
do
not
bear
these
crossings
.
Give
me
leave
To
tell
you
once
again
that
at
my
birth
The
front
of
heaven
was
full
of
fiery
shapes
,
The
goats
ran
from
the
mountains
,
and
the
herds
Were
strangely
clamorous
to
the
frighted
fields
.
These
signs
have
marked
me
extraordinary
,
And
all
the
courses
of
my
life
do
show
I
am
not
in
the
roll
of
common
men
.
Where
is
he
living
,
clipped
in
with
the
sea
That
chides
the
banks
of
England
,
Scotland
,
Wales
,
Which
calls
me
pupil
or
hath
read
to
me
?
And
bring
him
out
that
is
but
woman’s
son
Can
trace
me
in
the
tedious
ways
of
art
And
hold
me
pace
in
deep
experiments
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
I
think
there’s
no
man
speaks
better
Welsh
.
I’ll
to
dinner
.
Peace
,
cousin
Percy
.
You
will
make
him
mad
.
I
can
call
spirits
from
the
vasty
deep
.
Why
,
so
can
I
,
or
so
can
any
man
,
But
will
they
come
when
you
do
call
for
them
?
Why
,
I
can
teach
you
,
cousin
,
to
command
the
devil
.
And
I
can
teach
thee
,
coz
,
to
shame
the
devil
By
telling
truth
.
Tell
truth
and
shame
the
devil
.
If
thou
have
power
to
raise
him
,
bring
him
hither
,
And
I’ll
be
sworn
I
have
power
to
shame
him
hence
.
O
,
while
you
live
,
tell
truth
and
shame
the
devil
!
Come
,
come
,
no
more
of
this
unprofitable
chat
.
Three
times
hath
Henry
Bolingbroke
made
head
Against
my
power
;
thrice
from
the
banks
of
Wye
And
sandy-bottomed
Severn
have
I
sent
him
Bootless
home
and
weather-beaten
back
.
Home
without
boots
,
and
in
foul
weather
too
!
How
’scapes
he
agues
,
in
the
devil’s
name
?
Come
,
here
is
the
map
.
Shall
we
divide
our
right
According
to
our
threefold
order
ta’en
?
The
Archdeacon
hath
divided
it
Into
three
limits
very
equally
:
ACT 3. SC. 1
England
,
from
Trent
and
Severn
hitherto
,
By
south
and
east
is
to
my
part
assigned
;
All
westward
,
Wales
beyond
the
Severn
shore
,
And
all
the
fertile
land
within
that
bound
To
Owen
Glendower
;
and
,
dear
coz
,
to
you
The
remnant
northward
lying
off
from
Trent
.
And
our
indentures
tripartite
are
drawn
,
Which
being
sealèd
interchangeably
—
A
business
that
this
night
may
execute
—
Tomorrow
,
cousin
Percy
,
you
and
I
And
my
good
Lord
of
Worcester
will
set
forth
To
meet
your
father
and
the
Scottish
power
,
As
is
appointed
us
,
at
Shrewsbury
.
My
father
Glendower
is
not
ready
yet
,
Nor
shall
we
need
his
help
these
fourteen
days
.
To
Glendower
.
Within
that
space
you
may
have
drawn
together
Your
tenants
,
friends
,
and
neighboring
gentlemen
.
A
shorter
time
shall
send
me
to
you
,
lords
,
And
in
my
conduct
shall
your
ladies
come
,
From
whom
you
now
must
steal
and
take
no
leave
,
For
there
will
be
a
world
of
water
shed
Upon
the
parting
of
your
wives
and
you
.
,
looking
at
the
map
Methinks
my
moiety
,
north
from
Burton
here
,
In
quantity
equals
not
one
of
yours
.
See
how
this
river
comes
me
cranking
in
And
cuts
me
from
the
best
of
all
my
land
A
huge
half-moon
,
a
monstrous
cantle
out
.
I’ll
have
the
current
in
this
place
dammed
up
,
And
here
the
smug
and
silver
Trent
shall
run
In
a
new
channel
,
fair
and
evenly
.
It
shall
not
wind
with
such
a
deep
indent
To
rob
me
of
so
rich
a
bottom
here
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Not
wind
?
It
shall
,
it
must
.
You
see
it
doth
.
,
to
Hotspur
Yea
,
but
mark
how
he
bears
his
course
,
and
runs
me
up
With
like
advantage
on
the
other
side
,
Gelding
the
opposèd
continent
as
much
As
on
the
other
side
it
takes
from
you
.
Yea
,
but
a
little
charge
will
trench
him
here
And
on
this
north
side
win
this
cape
of
land
,
And
then
he
runs
straight
and
even
.
I’ll
have
it
so
.
A
little
charge
will
do
it
.
I’ll
not
have
it
altered
.
Will
not
you
?
No
,
nor
you
shall
not
.
Who
shall
say
me
nay
?
Why
,
that
will
I
.
Let
me
not
understand
you
,
then
;
speak
it
in
Welsh
.
I
can
speak
English
,
lord
,
as
well
as
you
,
For
I
was
trained
up
in
the
English
court
,
Where
being
but
young
I
framèd
to
the
harp
Many
an
English
ditty
lovely
well
And
gave
the
tongue
a
helpful
ornament
—
A
virtue
that
was
never
seen
in
you
.
Marry
,
and
I
am
glad
of
it
with
all
my
heart
.
I
had
rather
be
a
kitten
and
cry
mew
Than
one
of
these
same
meter
balladmongers
.
I
had
rather
hear
a
brazen
can’stick
turned
,
Or
a
dry
wheel
grate
on
the
axletree
,
And
that
would
set
my
teeth
nothing
an
edge
,
Nothing
so
much
as
mincing
poetry
.
’Tis
like
the
forced
gait
of
a
shuffling
nag
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Come
,
you
shall
have
Trent
turned
.
I
do
not
care
.
I’ll
give
thrice
so
much
land
To
any
well-deserving
friend
;
But
in
the
way
of
bargain
,
mark
you
me
,
I’ll
cavil
on
the
ninth
part
of
a
hair
.
Are
the
indentures
drawn
?
Shall
we
be
gone
?
The
moon
shines
fair
.
You
may
away
by
night
.
I’ll
haste
the
writer
,
and
withal
Break
with
your
wives
of
your
departure
hence
.
I
am
afraid
my
daughter
will
run
mad
,
So
much
she
doteth
on
her
Mortimer
.
He
exits
.
Fie
,
cousin
Percy
,
how
you
cross
my
father
!
I
cannot
choose
.
Sometime
he
angers
me
With
telling
me
of
the
moldwarp
and
the
ant
,
Of
the
dreamer
Merlin
and
his
prophecies
,
And
of
a
dragon
and
a
finless
fish
,
A
clip-winged
griffin
and
a
moulten
raven
,
A
couching
lion
and
a
ramping
cat
,
And
such
a
deal
of
skimble-skamble
stuff
As
puts
me
from
my
faith
.
I
tell
you
what
—
He
held
me
last
night
at
least
nine
hours
In
reckoning
up
the
several
devils’
names
That
were
his
lackeys
.
I
cried
Hum
,
and
Well
,
go
to
,
But
marked
him
not
a
word
.
O
,
he
is
as
tedious
As
a
tired
horse
,
a
railing
wife
,
Worse
than
a
smoky
house
.
I
had
rather
live
With
cheese
and
garlic
in
a
windmill
,
far
,
Than
feed
on
cates
and
have
him
talk
to
me
In
any
summer
house
in
Christendom
.
In
faith
,
he
is
a
worthy
gentleman
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
Exceedingly
well
read
and
profited
In
strange
concealments
,
valiant
as
a
lion
,
And
wondrous
affable
,
and
as
bountiful
As
mines
of
India
.
Shall
I
tell
you
,
cousin
?
He
holds
your
temper
in
a
high
respect
And
curbs
himself
even
of
his
natural
scope
When
you
come
cross
his
humor
.
Faith
,
he
does
.
I
warrant
you
that
man
is
not
alive
Might
so
have
tempted
him
as
you
have
done
Without
the
taste
of
danger
and
reproof
.
But
do
not
use
it
oft
,
let
me
entreat
you
.
,
to
Hotspur
In
faith
,
my
lord
,
you
are
too
willful-blame
,
And
,
since
your
coming
hither
,
have
done
enough
To
put
him
quite
besides
his
patience
.
You
must
needs
learn
,
lord
,
to
amend
this
fault
.
Though
sometimes
it
show
greatness
,
courage
,
blood
—
And
that’s
the
dearest
grace
it
renders
you
—
Yet
oftentimes
it
doth
present
harsh
rage
,
Defect
of
manners
,
want
of
government
,
Pride
,
haughtiness
,
opinion
,
and
disdain
,
The
least
of
which
,
haunting
a
nobleman
,
Loseth
men’s
hearts
and
leaves
behind
a
stain
Upon
the
beauty
of
all
parts
besides
,
Beguiling
them
of
commendation
.
Well
,
I
am
schooled
.
Good
manners
be
your
speed
!
Here
come
our
wives
,
and
let
us
take
our
leave
.
Enter
Glendower
with
the
Ladies
.
This
is
the
deadly
spite
that
angers
me
:
My
wife
can
speak
no
English
,
I
no
Welsh
.
My
daughter
weeps
;
she’ll
not
part
with
you
.
She’ll
be
a
soldier
too
,
she’ll
to
the
wars
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Good
father
,
tell
her
that
she
and
my
aunt
Percy
Shall
follow
in
your
conduct
speedily
.
Glendower
speaks
to
her
in
Welsh
,
and
she
answers
him
in
the
same
.
She
is
desperate
here
,
a
peevish
self-willed
harlotry
,
One
that
no
persuasion
can
do
good
upon
.
The
Lady
speaks
in
Welsh
.
I
understand
thy
looks
.
That
pretty
Welsh
Which
thou
pourest
down
from
these
swelling
heavens
I
am
too
perfect
in
,
and
but
for
shame
In
such
a
parley
should
I
answer
thee
.
The
Lady
speaks
again
in
Welsh
.
They
kiss
.
I
understand
thy
kisses
,
and
thou
mine
,
And
that’s
a
feeling
disputation
;
But
I
will
never
be
a
truant
,
love
,
Till
I
have
learned
thy
language
;
for
thy
tongue
Makes
Welsh
as
sweet
as
ditties
highly
penned
,
Sung
by
a
fair
queen
in
a
summer’s
bower
,
With
ravishing
division
,
to
her
lute
.
Nay
,
if
you
melt
,
then
will
she
run
mad
.
The
Lady
speaks
again
in
Welsh
.
O
,
I
am
ignorance
itself
in
this
!
She
bids
you
on
the
wanton
rushes
lay
you
down
And
rest
your
gentle
head
upon
her
lap
,
And
she
will
sing
the
song
that
pleaseth
you
,
And
on
your
eyelids
crown
the
god
of
sleep
,
Charming
your
blood
with
pleasing
heaviness
,
Making
such
difference
’twixt
wake
and
sleep
As
is
the
difference
betwixt
day
and
night
ACT 3. SC. 1
The
hour
before
the
heavenly
harnessed
team
Begins
his
golden
progress
in
the
east
.
With
all
my
heart
I’ll
sit
and
hear
her
sing
.
By
that
time
will
our
book
,
I
think
,
be
drawn
.
Do
so
,
and
those
musicians
that
shall
play
to
you
Hang
in
the
air
a
thousand
leagues
from
hence
,
And
straight
they
shall
be
here
.
Sit
and
attend
.
Come
,
Kate
,
thou
art
perfect
in
lying
down
.
Come
,
quick
,
quick
,
that
I
may
lay
my
head
in
thy
lap
.
Go
,
you
giddy
goose
.
The
music
plays
.
Now
I
perceive
the
devil
understands
Welsh
,
And
’tis
no
marvel
he
is
so
humorous
.
By
’r
Lady
,
he
is
a
good
musician
.
Then
should
you
be
nothing
but
musical
,
for
you
are
altogether
governed
by
humors
.
Lie
still
,
you
thief
,
and
hear
the
lady
sing
in
Welsh
.
I
had
rather
hear
Lady
,
my
brach
,
howl
in
Irish
.
Wouldst
thou
have
thy
head
broken
?
No
.
Then
be
still
.
Neither
;
’tis
a
woman’s
fault
.
Now
God
help
thee
!
To
the
Welsh
lady’s
bed
.
What’s
that
?
Peace
,
she
sings
.
Here
the
Lady
sings
a
Welsh
song
.
Come
,
Kate
,
I’ll
have
your
song
too
.
Not
mine
,
in
good
sooth
.
Not
yours
,
in
good
sooth
!
Heart
,
you
swear
ACT 3. SC. 2
like
a
comfit-maker’s
wife
!
Not
you
,
in
good
sooth
,
and
as
true
as
I
live
,
and
as
God
shall
mend
me
,
and
as
sure
as
day
—
And
givest
such
sarcenet
surety
for
thy
oaths
As
if
thou
never
walk’st
further
than
Finsbury
.
Swear
me
,
Kate
,
like
a
lady
as
thou
art
,
A
good
mouth-filling
oath
,
and
leave
in
sooth
,
And
such
protest
of
pepper-gingerbread
To
velvet-guards
and
Sunday
citizens
.
Come
,
sing
.
I
will
not
sing
.
’Tis
the
next
way
to
turn
tailor
,
or
be
redbreast
teacher
.
An
the
indentures
be
drawn
,
I’ll
away
within
these
two
hours
,
and
so
come
in
when
you
will
.
He
exits
.
Come
,
come
,
Lord
Mortimer
,
you
are
as
slow
As
hot
Lord
Percy
is
on
fire
to
go
.
By
this
our
book
is
drawn
.
We’ll
but
seal
,
And
then
to
horse
immediately
.
With
all
my
heart
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
the
King
,
Prince
of
Wales
,
and
others
.
Lords
,
give
us
leave
;
the
Prince
of
Wales
and
I
Must
have
some
private
conference
,
but
be
near
at
hand
,
For
we
shall
presently
have
need
of
you
.
Lords
exit
.
I
know
not
whether
God
will
have
it
so
For
some
displeasing
service
I
have
done
,
That
,
in
His
secret
doom
,
out
of
my
blood
ACT 3. SC. 2
He’ll
breed
revengement
and
a
scourge
for
me
.
But
thou
dost
in
thy
passages
of
life
Make
me
believe
that
thou
art
only
marked
For
the
hot
vengeance
and
the
rod
of
heaven
To
punish
my
mistreadings
.
Tell
me
else
,
Could
such
inordinate
and
low
desires
,
Such
poor
,
such
bare
,
such
lewd
,
such
mean
attempts
,
Such
barren
pleasures
,
rude
society
As
thou
art
matched
withal
,
and
grafted
to
,
Accompany
the
greatness
of
thy
blood
,
And
hold
their
level
with
thy
princely
heart
?
So
please
your
Majesty
,
I
would
I
could
Quit
all
offenses
with
as
clear
excuse
As
well
as
I
am
doubtless
I
can
purge
Myself
of
many
I
am
charged
withal
.
Yet
such
extenuation
let
me
beg
As
,
in
reproof
of
many
tales
devised
,
Which
oft
the
ear
of
greatness
needs
must
hear
,
By
smiling
pickthanks
and
base
newsmongers
,
I
may
for
some
things
true
,
wherein
my
youth
Hath
faulty
wandered
and
irregular
,
Find
pardon
on
my
true
submission
.
God
pardon
thee
.
Yet
let
me
wonder
,
Harry
,
At
thy
affections
,
which
do
hold
a
wing
Quite
from
the
flight
of
all
thy
ancestors
.
Thy
place
in
council
thou
hast
rudely
lost
,
Which
by
thy
younger
brother
is
supplied
,
And
art
almost
an
alien
to
the
hearts
Of
all
the
court
and
princes
of
my
blood
.
The
hope
and
expectation
of
thy
time
Is
ruined
,
and
the
soul
of
every
man
Prophetically
do
forethink
thy
fall
.
Had
I
so
lavish
of
my
presence
been
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
So
common-hackneyed
in
the
eyes
of
men
,
So
stale
and
cheap
to
vulgar
company
,
Opinion
,
that
did
help
me
to
the
crown
,
Had
still
kept
loyal
to
possession
And
left
me
in
reputeless
banishment
,
A
fellow
of
no
mark
nor
likelihood
.
By
being
seldom
seen
,
I
could
not
stir
But
like
a
comet
I
was
wondered
at
,
That
men
would
tell
their
children
This
is
he
.
Others
would
say
Where
?
Which
is
Bolingbroke
?
And
then
I
stole
all
courtesy
from
heaven
,
And
dressed
myself
in
such
humility
That
I
did
pluck
allegiance
from
men’s
hearts
,
Loud
shouts
and
salutations
from
their
mouths
,
Even
in
the
presence
of
the
crownèd
king
.
Thus
did
I
keep
my
person
fresh
and
new
,
My
presence
,
like
a
robe
pontifical
,
Ne’er
seen
but
wondered
at
,
and
so
my
state
,
Seldom
but
sumptuous
,
showed
like
a
feast
And
won
by
rareness
such
solemnity
.
The
skipping
king
,
he
ambled
up
and
down
With
shallow
jesters
and
rash
bavin
wits
,
Soon
kindled
and
soon
burnt
;
carded
his
state
,
Mingled
his
royalty
with
cap’ring
fools
,
Had
his
great
name
profanèd
with
their
scorns
,
And
gave
his
countenance
,
against
his
name
,
To
laugh
at
gibing
boys
and
stand
the
push
Of
every
beardless
vain
comparative
;
Grew
a
companion
to
the
common
streets
,
Enfeoffed
himself
to
popularity
,
That
,
being
daily
swallowed
by
men’s
eyes
,
They
surfeited
with
honey
and
began
To
loathe
the
taste
of
sweetness
,
whereof
a
little
More
than
a
little
is
by
much
too
much
.
So
,
when
he
had
occasion
to
be
seen
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
He
was
but
as
the
cuckoo
is
in
June
,
Heard
,
not
regarded
;
seen
,
but
with
such
eyes
As
,
sick
and
blunted
with
community
,
Afford
no
extraordinary
gaze
Such
as
is
bent
on
sunlike
majesty
When
it
shines
seldom
in
admiring
eyes
,
But
rather
drowsed
and
hung
their
eyelids
down
,
Slept
in
his
face
,
and
rendered
such
aspect
As
cloudy
men
use
to
their
adversaries
,
Being
with
his
presence
glutted
,
gorged
,
and
full
.
And
in
that
very
line
,
Harry
,
standest
thou
,
For
thou
hast
lost
thy
princely
privilege
With
vile
participation
.
Not
an
eye
But
is
aweary
of
thy
common
sight
,
Save
mine
,
which
hath
desired
to
see
thee
more
,
Which
now
doth
that
I
would
not
have
it
do
,
Make
blind
itself
with
foolish
tenderness
.
I
shall
hereafter
,
my
thrice
gracious
lord
,
Be
more
myself
.
For
all
the
world
As
thou
art
to
this
hour
was
Richard
then
When
I
from
France
set
foot
at
Ravenspurgh
,
And
even
as
I
was
then
is
Percy
now
.
Now
,
by
my
scepter
,
and
my
soul
to
boot
,
He
hath
more
worthy
interest
to
the
state
Than
thou
,
the
shadow
of
succession
.
For
of
no
right
,
nor
color
like
to
right
,
He
doth
fill
fields
with
harness
in
the
realm
,
Turns
head
against
the
lion’s
armèd
jaws
,
And
,
being
no
more
in
debt
to
years
than
thou
,
Leads
ancient
lords
and
reverend
bishops
on
To
bloody
battles
and
to
bruising
arms
.
What
never-dying
honor
hath
he
got
Against
renownèd
Douglas
,
whose
high
deeds
,
Whose
hot
incursions
and
great
name
in
arms
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
Holds
from
all
soldiers
chief
majority
And
military
title
capital
Through
all
the
kingdoms
that
acknowledge
Christ
.
Thrice
hath
this
Hotspur
,
Mars
in
swaddling
clothes
,
This
infant
warrior
,
in
his
enterprises
Discomfited
great
Douglas
,
ta’en
him
once
,
Enlargèd
him
,
and
made
a
friend
of
him
,
To
fill
the
mouth
of
deep
defiance
up
And
shake
the
peace
and
safety
of
our
throne
.
And
what
say
you
to
this
?
Percy
,
Northumberland
,
The
Archbishop’s
Grace
of
York
,
Douglas
,
Mortimer
,
Capitulate
against
us
and
are
up
.
But
wherefore
do
I
tell
these
news
to
thee
?
Why
,
Harry
,
do
I
tell
thee
of
my
foes
,
Which
art
my
nearest
and
dearest
enemy
?
Thou
that
art
like
enough
,
through
vassal
fear
,
Base
inclination
,
and
the
start
of
spleen
,
To
fight
against
me
under
Percy’s
pay
,
To
dog
his
heels
,
and
curtsy
at
his
frowns
,
To
show
how
much
thou
art
degenerate
.
Do
not
think
so
.
You
shall
not
find
it
so
.
And
God
forgive
them
that
so
much
have
swayed
Your
Majesty’s
good
thoughts
away
from
me
.
I
will
redeem
all
this
on
Percy’s
head
,
And
,
in
the
closing
of
some
glorious
day
,
Be
bold
to
tell
you
that
I
am
your
son
,
When
I
will
wear
a
garment
all
of
blood
And
stain
my
favors
in
a
bloody
mask
,
Which
,
washed
away
,
shall
scour
my
shame
with
it
.
And
that
shall
be
the
day
,
whene’er
it
lights
,
That
this
same
child
of
honor
and
renown
,
This
gallant
Hotspur
,
this
all-praisèd
knight
,
And
your
unthought-of
Harry
chance
to
meet
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
For
every
honor
sitting
on
his
helm
,
Would
they
were
multitudes
,
and
on
my
head
My
shames
redoubled
!
For
the
time
will
come
That
I
shall
make
this
northern
youth
exchange
His
glorious
deeds
for
my
indignities
.
Percy
is
but
my
factor
,
good
my
lord
,
To
engross
up
glorious
deeds
on
my
behalf
.
And
I
will
call
him
to
so
strict
account
That
he
shall
render
every
glory
up
,
Yea
,
even
the
slightest
worship
of
his
time
,
Or
I
will
tear
the
reckoning
from
his
heart
.
This
in
the
name
of
God
I
promise
here
,
The
which
if
He
be
pleased
I
shall
perform
,
I
do
beseech
your
Majesty
may
salve
The
long-grown
wounds
of
my
intemperance
.
If
not
,
the
end
of
life
cancels
all
bands
,
And
I
will
die
a
hundred
thousand
deaths
Ere
break
the
smallest
parcel
of
this
vow
.
A
hundred
thousand
rebels
die
in
this
.
Thou
shalt
have
charge
and
sovereign
trust
herein
.
Enter
Blunt
.
How
now
,
good
Blunt
?
Thy
looks
are
full
of
speed
.
So
hath
the
business
that
I
come
to
speak
of
.
Lord
Mortimer
of
Scotland
hath
sent
word
That
Douglas
and
the
English
rebels
met
The
eleventh
of
this
month
at
Shrewsbury
.
A
mighty
and
a
fearful
head
they
are
,
If
promises
be
kept
on
every
hand
,
As
ever
offered
foul
play
in
a
state
.
The
Earl
of
Westmoreland
set
forth
today
,
With
him
my
son
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
For
this
advertisement
is
five
days
old
.
—
ACT 3. SC. 3
On
Wednesday
next
,
Harry
,
you
shall
set
forward
.
On
Thursday
we
ourselves
will
march
.
Our
meeting
Is
Bridgenorth
.
And
,
Harry
,
you
shall
march
Through
Gloucestershire
;
by
which
account
,
Our
business
valuèd
,
some
twelve
days
hence
Our
general
forces
at
Bridgenorth
shall
meet
.
Our
hands
are
full
of
business
.
Let’s
away
.
Advantage
feeds
him
fat
while
men
delay
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Falstaff
and
Bardolph
.
Bardolph
,
am
I
not
fallen
away
vilely
since
this
last
action
?
Do
I
not
bate
?
Do
I
not
dwindle
?
Why
,
my
skin
hangs
about
me
like
an
old
lady’s
loose
gown
.
I
am
withered
like
an
old
applejohn
.
Well
,
I’ll
repent
,
and
that
suddenly
,
while
I
am
in
some
liking
.
I
shall
be
out
of
heart
shortly
,
and
then
I
shall
have
no
strength
to
repent
.
An
I
have
not
forgotten
what
the
inside
of
a
church
is
made
of
,
I
am
a
peppercorn
,
a
brewer’s
horse
.
The
inside
of
a
church
!
Company
,
villainous
company
,
hath
been
the
spoil
of
me
.
Sir
John
,
you
are
so
fretful
you
cannot
live
long
.
Why
,
there
is
it
.
Come
,
sing
me
a
bawdy
song
,
make
me
merry
.
I
was
as
virtuously
given
as
a
gentleman
need
to
be
,
virtuous
enough
:
swore
little
;
diced
not
above
seven
times
—
a
week
;
went
to
a
bawdy
house
not
above
once
in
a
quarter
—
of
an
hour
;
paid
money
that
I
borrowed
—
three
or
four
times
;
lived
well
and
in
good
compass
;
and
now
I
live
out
of
all
order
,
out
of
all
compass
.
Why
,
you
are
so
fat
,
Sir
John
,
that
you
must
ACT 3. SC. 3
needs
be
out
of
all
compass
,
out
of
all
reasonable
compass
,
Sir
John
.
Do
thou
amend
thy
face
,
and
I’ll
amend
my
life
.
Thou
art
our
admiral
,
thou
bearest
the
lantern
in
the
poop
,
but
’tis
in
the
nose
of
thee
.
Thou
art
the
Knight
of
the
Burning
Lamp
.
Why
,
Sir
John
,
my
face
does
you
no
harm
.
No
,
I’ll
be
sworn
,
I
make
as
good
use
of
it
as
many
a
man
doth
of
a
death’s-head
or
a
memento
mori
.
I
never
see
thy
face
but
I
think
upon
hellfire
and
Dives
that
lived
in
purple
,
for
there
he
is
in
his
robes
,
burning
,
burning
.
If
thou
wert
any
way
given
to
virtue
,
I
would
swear
by
thy
face
.
My
oath
should
be
By
this
fire
,
that’s
God’s
angel
.
But
thou
art
altogether
given
over
,
and
wert
indeed
,
but
for
the
light
in
thy
face
,
the
son
of
utter
darkness
.
When
thou
ran’st
up
Gad’s
Hill
in
the
night
to
catch
my
horse
,
if
I
did
not
think
thou
hadst
been
an
ignis
fatuus
,
or
a
ball
of
wildfire
,
there’s
no
purchase
in
money
.
O
,
thou
art
a
perpetual
triumph
,
an
everlasting
bonfire-light
.
Thou
hast
saved
me
a
thousand
marks
in
links
and
torches
,
walking
with
thee
in
the
night
betwixt
tavern
and
tavern
,
but
the
sack
that
thou
hast
drunk
me
would
have
bought
me
lights
as
good
cheap
at
the
dearest
chandler’s
in
Europe
.
I
have
maintained
that
salamander
of
yours
with
fire
any
time
this
two-and-thirty
years
,
God
reward
me
for
it
.
’Sblood
,
I
would
my
face
were
in
your
belly
!
Godamercy
,
so
should
I
be
sure
to
be
heartburned
!
Enter
Hostess
.
How
now
,
Dame
Partlet
the
hen
,
have
you
enquired
yet
who
picked
my
pocket
?
ACT 3. SC. 3
Why
,
Sir
John
,
what
do
you
think
,
Sir
John
,
do
you
think
I
keep
thieves
in
my
house
?
I
have
searched
,
I
have
enquired
,
so
has
my
husband
,
man
by
man
,
boy
by
boy
,
servant
by
servant
.
The
tithe
of
a
hair
was
never
lost
in
my
house
before
.
You
lie
,
hostess
.
Bardolph
was
shaved
and
lost
many
a
hair
,
and
I’ll
be
sworn
my
pocket
was
picked
.
Go
to
,
you
are
a
woman
,
go
.
Who
,
I
?
No
,
I
defy
thee
!
God’s
light
,
I
was
never
called
so
in
mine
own
house
before
.
Go
to
,
I
know
you
well
enough
.
No
,
Sir
John
,
you
do
not
know
me
,
Sir
John
.
I
know
you
,
Sir
John
.
You
owe
me
money
,
Sir
John
,
and
now
you
pick
a
quarrel
to
beguile
me
of
it
.
I
bought
you
a
dozen
of
shirts
to
your
back
.
Dowlas
,
filthy
dowlas
.
I
have
given
them
away
to
bakers’
wives
;
they
have
made
bolters
of
them
.
Now
,
as
I
am
a
true
woman
,
holland
of
eight
shillings
an
ell
.
You
owe
money
here
besides
,
Sir
John
,
for
your
diet
and
by-drinkings
and
money
lent
you
,
four-and-twenty
pound
.
,
pointing
to
Bardolph
He
had
his
part
of
it
.
Let
him
pay
.
He
?
Alas
,
he
is
poor
.
He
hath
nothing
.
How
,
poor
?
Look
upon
his
face
.
What
call
you
rich
?
Let
them
coin
his
nose
.
Let
them
coin
his
cheeks
.
I’ll
not
pay
a
denier
.
What
,
will
you
make
a
younker
of
me
?
Shall
I
not
take
mine
ease
in
mine
inn
but
I
shall
have
my
pocket
picked
?
I
have
lost
a
seal
ring
of
my
grandfather’s
worth
forty
mark
.
,
to
Bardolph
O
Jesu
,
I
have
heard
the
Prince
tell
him
,
I
know
not
how
oft
,
that
that
ring
was
copper
.
How
?
The
Prince
is
a
jack
,
a
sneak-up
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
’Sblood
,
an
he
were
here
,
I
would
cudgel
him
like
a
dog
if
he
would
say
so
.
Enter
the
Prince
marching
,
with
Peto
,
and
Falstaff
meets
him
playing
upon
his
truncheon
like
a
fife
.
How
now
,
lad
,
is
the
wind
in
that
door
,
i’
faith
?
Must
we
all
march
?
Yea
,
two
and
two
,
Newgate
fashion
.
,
to
Prince
My
lord
,
I
pray
you
,
hear
me
.
What
say’st
thou
,
Mistress
Quickly
?
How
doth
thy
husband
?
I
love
him
well
;
he
is
an
honest
man
.
Good
my
lord
,
hear
me
.
Prithee
,
let
her
alone
,
and
list
to
me
.
What
say’st
thou
,
Jack
?
The
other
night
I
fell
asleep
here
,
behind
the
arras
,
and
had
my
pocket
picked
.
This
house
is
turned
bawdy
house
;
they
pick
pockets
.
What
didst
thou
lose
,
Jack
?
Wilt
thou
believe
me
,
Hal
,
three
or
four
bonds
of
forty
pound
apiece
,
and
a
seal
ring
of
my
grandfather’s
.
A
trifle
,
some
eightpenny
matter
.
So
I
told
him
,
my
lord
,
and
I
said
I
heard
your
Grace
say
so
.
And
,
my
lord
,
he
speaks
most
vilely
of
you
,
like
a
foul-mouthed
man
,
as
he
is
,
and
said
he
would
cudgel
you
.
What
,
he
did
not
!
There’s
neither
faith
,
truth
,
nor
womanhood
in
me
else
.
There’s
no
more
faith
in
thee
than
in
a
stewed
prune
,
nor
no
more
truth
in
thee
than
in
a
drawn
fox
,
and
for
womanhood
,
Maid
Marian
may
be
the
deputy’s
wife
of
the
ward
to
thee
.
Go
,
you
thing
,
go
.
Say
,
what
thing
,
what
thing
?
What
thing
?
Why
,
a
thing
to
thank
God
on
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
I
am
no
thing
to
thank
God
on
,
I
would
thou
shouldst
know
it
!
I
am
an
honest
man’s
wife
,
and
,
setting
thy
knighthood
aside
,
thou
art
a
knave
to
call
me
so
.
Setting
thy
womanhood
aside
,
thou
art
a
beast
to
say
otherwise
.
Say
,
what
beast
,
thou
knave
,
thou
?
What
beast
?
Why
,
an
otter
.
An
otter
,
Sir
John
.
Why
an
otter
?
Why
,
she’s
neither
fish
nor
flesh
;
a
man
knows
not
where
to
have
her
.
Thou
art
an
unjust
man
in
saying
so
.
Thou
or
any
man
knows
where
to
have
me
,
thou
knave
,
thou
.
Thou
sayst
true
,
hostess
,
and
he
slanders
thee
most
grossly
.
So
he
doth
you
,
my
lord
,
and
said
this
other
day
you
owed
him
a
thousand
pound
.
Sirrah
,
do
I
owe
you
a
thousand
pound
?
A
thousand
pound
,
Hal
?
A
million
.
Thy
love
is
worth
a
million
;
thou
owest
me
thy
love
.
Nay
,
my
lord
,
he
called
you
jack
,
and
said
he
would
cudgel
you
.
Did
I
,
Bardolph
?
Indeed
,
Sir
John
,
you
said
so
.
Yea
,
if
he
said
my
ring
was
copper
.
I
say
’tis
copper
.
Darest
thou
be
as
good
as
thy
word
now
?
Why
,
Hal
,
thou
knowest
,
as
thou
art
but
man
,
I
dare
,
but
as
thou
art
prince
,
I
fear
thee
as
I
fear
the
roaring
of
the
lion’s
whelp
.
And
why
not
as
the
lion
?
The
King
himself
is
to
be
feared
as
the
lion
.
Dost
thou
think
I’ll
fear
thee
as
I
fear
thy
father
?
Nay
,
an
I
do
,
I
pray
God
my
girdle
break
.
O
,
if
it
should
,
how
would
thy
guts
fall
about
ACT 3. SC. 3
thy
knees
!
But
,
sirrah
,
there’s
no
room
for
faith
,
truth
,
nor
honesty
in
this
bosom
of
thine
.
It
is
all
filled
up
with
guts
and
midriff
.
Charge
an
honest
woman
with
picking
thy
pocket
?
Why
,
thou
whoreson
,
impudent
,
embossed
rascal
,
if
there
were
anything
in
thy
pocket
but
tavern
reckonings
,
memorandums
of
bawdy
houses
,
and
one
poor
pennyworth
of
sugar
candy
to
make
thee
long-winded
,
if
thy
pocket
were
enriched
with
any
other
injuries
but
these
,
I
am
a
villain
.
And
yet
you
will
stand
to
it
!
You
will
not
pocket
up
wrong
!
Art
thou
not
ashamed
?
Dost
thou
hear
,
Hal
?
Thou
knowest
in
the
state
of
innocency
Adam
fell
,
and
what
should
poor
Jack
Falstaff
do
in
the
days
of
villainy
?
Thou
seest
I
have
more
flesh
than
another
man
and
therefore
more
frailty
.
You
confess
,
then
,
you
picked
my
pocket
.
It
appears
so
by
the
story
.
Hostess
,
I
forgive
thee
.
Go
make
ready
breakfast
,
love
thy
husband
,
look
to
thy
servants
,
cherish
thy
guests
.
Thou
shalt
find
me
tractable
to
any
honest
reason
.
Thou
seest
I
am
pacified
still
.
Nay
,
prithee
,
begone
.
(
Hostess
exits
.
)
Now
,
Hal
,
to
the
news
at
court
.
For
the
robbery
,
lad
,
how
is
that
answered
?
O
,
my
sweet
beef
,
I
must
still
be
good
angel
to
thee
.
The
money
is
paid
back
again
.
O
,
I
do
not
like
that
paying
back
.
’Tis
a
double
labor
.
I
am
good
friends
with
my
father
and
may
do
anything
.
Rob
me
the
Exchequer
the
first
thing
thou
dost
,
and
do
it
with
unwashed
hands
too
.
Do
,
my
lord
.
I
have
procured
thee
,
Jack
,
a
charge
of
foot
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
I
would
it
had
been
of
horse
.
Where
shall
I
find
one
that
can
steal
well
?
O
,
for
a
fine
thief
of
the
age
of
two-and-twenty
or
thereabouts
!
I
am
heinously
unprovided
.
Well
,
God
be
thanked
for
these
rebels
.
They
offend
none
but
the
virtuous
.
I
laud
them
;
I
praise
them
.
Bardolph
.
My
lord
.
,
handing
Bardolph
papers
Go
,
bear
this
letter
to
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
To
my
brother
John
;
this
to
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
Bardolph
exits
.
Go
,
Peto
,
to
horse
,
to
horse
,
for
thou
and
I
Have
thirty
miles
to
ride
yet
ere
dinner
time
.
Peto
exits
.
Jack
,
meet
me
tomorrow
in
the
Temple
hall
At
two
o’clock
in
the
afternoon
;
There
shalt
thou
know
thy
charge
,
and
there
receive
Money
and
order
for
their
furniture
.
The
land
is
burning
.
Percy
stands
on
high
,
And
either
we
or
they
must
lower
lie
.
He
exits
.
Rare
words
,
brave
world
!
—
Hostess
,
my
breakfast
,
come
.
—
O
,
I
could
wish
this
tavern
were
my
drum
.
He
exits
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Enter
Hotspur
,
Worcester
,
and
Douglas
.
Well
said
,
my
noble
Scot
.
If
speaking
truth
In
this
fine
age
were
not
thought
flattery
,
Such
attribution
should
the
Douglas
have
As
not
a
soldier
of
this
season’s
stamp
Should
go
so
general
current
through
the
world
.
By
God
,
I
cannot
flatter
.
I
do
defy
The
tongues
of
soothers
.
But
a
braver
place
In
my
heart’s
love
hath
no
man
than
yourself
.
Nay
,
task
me
to
my
word
;
approve
me
,
lord
.
Thou
art
the
king
of
honor
.
No
man
so
potent
breathes
upon
the
ground
But
I
will
beard
him
.
Do
so
,
and
’tis
well
.
Enter
a
Messenger
with
letters
.
What
letters
hast
thou
there
?
To
Douglas
.
I
can
but
thank
you
.
These
letters
come
from
your
father
.
Letters
from
him
!
Why
comes
he
not
himself
?
He
cannot
come
,
my
lord
.
He
is
grievous
sick
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Zounds
,
how
has
he
the
leisure
to
be
sick
In
such
a
justling
time
?
Who
leads
his
power
?
Under
whose
government
come
they
along
?
,
handing
letter
to
Hotspur
,
who
begins
reading
it
His
letters
bears
his
mind
,
not
I
,
my
lord
.
I
prithee
,
tell
me
,
doth
he
keep
his
bed
?
He
did
,
my
lord
,
four
days
ere
I
set
forth
,
And
,
at
the
time
of
my
departure
thence
,
He
was
much
feared
by
his
physicians
.
I
would
the
state
of
time
had
first
been
whole
Ere
he
by
sickness
had
been
visited
.
His
health
was
never
better
worth
than
now
.
Sick
now
?
Droop
now
?
This
sickness
doth
infect
The
very
lifeblood
of
our
enterprise
.
’Tis
catching
hither
,
even
to
our
camp
.
He
writes
me
here
that
inward
sickness
—
And
that
his
friends
by
deputation
Could
not
so
soon
be
drawn
,
nor
did
he
think
it
meet
To
lay
so
dangerous
and
dear
a
trust
On
any
soul
removed
but
on
his
own
;
Yet
doth
he
give
us
bold
advertisement
That
with
our
small
conjunction
we
should
on
To
see
how
fortune
is
disposed
to
us
,
For
,
as
he
writes
,
there
is
no
quailing
now
,
Because
the
King
is
certainly
possessed
Of
all
our
purposes
.
What
say
you
to
it
?
Your
father’s
sickness
is
a
maim
to
us
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
A
perilous
gash
,
a
very
limb
lopped
off
!
And
yet
,
in
faith
,
it
is
not
.
His
present
want
Seems
more
than
we
shall
find
it
.
Were
it
good
To
set
the
exact
wealth
of
all
our
states
All
at
one
cast
?
To
set
so
rich
a
main
On
the
nice
hazard
of
one
doubtful
hour
?
It
were
not
good
,
for
therein
should
we
read
The
very
bottom
and
the
soul
of
hope
,
The
very
list
,
the
very
utmost
bound
Of
all
our
fortunes
.
Faith
,
and
so
we
should
,
where
now
remains
A
sweet
reversion
.
We
may
boldly
spend
Upon
the
hope
of
what
is
to
come
in
.
A
comfort
of
retirement
lives
in
this
.
A
rendezvous
,
a
home
to
fly
unto
,
If
that
the
devil
and
mischance
look
big
Upon
the
maidenhead
of
our
affairs
.
But
yet
I
would
your
father
had
been
here
.
The
quality
and
hair
of
our
attempt
Brooks
no
division
.
It
will
be
thought
By
some
that
know
not
why
he
is
away
That
wisdom
,
loyalty
,
and
mere
dislike
Of
our
proceedings
kept
the
Earl
from
hence
.
And
think
how
such
an
apprehension
May
turn
the
tide
of
fearful
faction
And
breed
a
kind
of
question
in
our
cause
.
For
well
you
know
,
we
of
the
off’ring
side
Must
keep
aloof
from
strict
arbitrament
,
And
stop
all
sight-holes
,
every
loop
from
whence
The
eye
of
reason
may
pry
in
upon
us
.
This
absence
of
your
father’s
draws
a
curtain
ACT 4. SC. 1
That
shows
the
ignorant
a
kind
of
fear
Before
not
dreamt
of
.
You
strain
too
far
.
I
rather
of
his
absence
make
this
use
:
It
lends
a
luster
and
more
great
opinion
,
A
larger
dare
,
to
our
great
enterprise
Than
if
the
Earl
were
here
,
for
men
must
think
If
we
without
his
help
can
make
a
head
To
push
against
a
kingdom
,
with
his
help
We
shall
o’erturn
it
topsy-turvy
down
.
Yet
all
goes
well
;
yet
all
our
joints
are
whole
.
As
heart
can
think
.
There
is
not
such
a
word
Spoke
of
in
Scotland
as
this
term
of
fear
.
Enter
Sir
Richard
Vernon
.
My
cousin
Vernon
,
welcome
,
by
my
soul
.
Pray
God
my
news
be
worth
a
welcome
,
lord
.
The
Earl
of
Westmoreland
,
seven
thousand
strong
,
Is
marching
hitherwards
,
with
him
Prince
John
.
No
harm
,
what
more
?
And
further
I
have
learned
The
King
himself
in
person
is
set
forth
,
Or
hitherwards
intended
speedily
,
With
strong
and
mighty
preparation
.
He
shall
be
welcome
too
.
Where
is
his
son
,
The
nimble-footed
madcap
Prince
of
Wales
,
And
his
comrades
,
that
daffed
the
world
aside
And
bid
it
pass
?
All
furnished
,
all
in
arms
,
All
plumed
like
estridges
that
with
the
wind
Bated
like
eagles
having
lately
bathed
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
Glittering
in
golden
coats
like
images
,
As
full
of
spirit
as
the
month
of
May
,
And
gorgeous
as
the
sun
at
midsummer
,
Wanton
as
youthful
goats
,
wild
as
young
bulls
.
I
saw
young
Harry
with
his
beaver
on
,
His
cuisses
on
his
thighs
,
gallantly
armed
,
Rise
from
the
ground
like
feathered
Mercury
And
vaulted
with
such
ease
into
his
seat
As
if
an
angel
dropped
down
from
the
clouds
,
To
turn
and
wind
a
fiery
Pegasus
And
witch
the
world
with
noble
horsemanship
.
No
more
,
no
more
!
Worse
than
the
sun
in
March
This
praise
doth
nourish
agues
.
Let
them
come
.
They
come
like
sacrifices
in
their
trim
,
And
to
the
fire-eyed
maid
of
smoky
war
All
hot
and
bleeding
will
we
offer
them
.
The
mailèd
Mars
shall
on
his
altar
sit
Up
to
the
ears
in
blood
.
I
am
on
fire
To
hear
this
rich
reprisal
is
so
nigh
And
yet
not
ours
.
Come
,
let
me
taste
my
horse
,
Who
is
to
bear
me
like
a
thunderbolt
Against
the
bosom
of
the
Prince
of
Wales
.
Harry
to
Harry
shall
,
hot
horse
to
horse
,
Meet
and
ne’er
part
till
one
drop
down
a
corse
.
O
,
that
Glendower
were
come
!
There
is
more
news
.
I
learned
in
Worcester
,
as
I
rode
along
,
He
cannot
draw
his
power
this
fourteen
days
.
That’s
the
worst
tidings
that
I
hear
of
yet
.
Ay
,
by
my
faith
,
that
bears
a
frosty
sound
.
What
may
the
King’s
whole
battle
reach
unto
?
ACT 4. SC. 2
To
thirty
thousand
.
Forty
let
it
be
.
My
father
and
Glendower
being
both
away
,
The
powers
of
us
may
serve
so
great
a
day
.
Come
,
let
us
take
a
muster
speedily
.
Doomsday
is
near
.
Die
all
,
die
merrily
.
Talk
not
of
dying
.
I
am
out
of
fear
Of
death
or
death’s
hand
for
this
one
half
year
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Falstaff
and
Bardolph
.
Bardolph
,
get
thee
before
to
Coventry
.
Fill
me
a
bottle
of
sack
.
Our
soldiers
shall
march
through
.
We’ll
to
Sutton
Coldfield
tonight
.
Will
you
give
me
money
,
captain
?
Lay
out
,
lay
out
.
This
bottle
makes
an
angel
.
An
if
it
do
,
take
it
for
thy
labor
.
An
if
it
make
twenty
,
take
them
all
.
I’ll
answer
the
coinage
.
Bid
my
lieutenant
Peto
meet
me
at
town’s
end
.
I
will
,
captain
.
Farewell
.
He
exits
.
If
I
be
not
ashamed
of
my
soldiers
,
I
am
a
soused
gurnet
.
I
have
misused
the
King’s
press
damnably
.
I
have
got
,
in
exchange
of
a
hundred
and
fifty
soldiers
,
three
hundred
and
odd
pounds
.
I
press
me
none
but
good
householders
,
yeomen’s
sons
,
inquire
me
out
contracted
bachelors
,
such
as
had
been
asked
twice
on
the
banns
—
such
a
commodity
of
warm
slaves
as
had
as
lief
hear
the
devil
as
a
drum
,
such
as
fear
the
report
of
a
caliver
worse
ACT 4. SC. 2
than
a
struck
fowl
or
a
hurt
wild
duck
.
I
pressed
me
none
but
such
toasts-and-butter
,
with
hearts
in
their
bellies
no
bigger
than
pins’
heads
,
and
they
have
bought
out
their
services
,
and
now
my
whole
charge
consists
of
ancients
,
corporals
,
lieutenants
,
gentlemen
of
companies
—
slaves
as
ragged
as
Lazarus
in
the
painted
cloth
,
where
the
glutton’s
dogs
licked
his
sores
;
and
such
as
indeed
were
never
soldiers
,
but
discarded
,
unjust
servingmen
,
younger
sons
to
younger
brothers
,
revolted
tapsters
,
and
ostlers
tradefallen
,
the
cankers
of
a
calm
world
and
a
long
peace
,
ten
times
more
dishonorable-ragged
than
an
old
feazed
ancient
;
and
such
have
I
to
fill
up
the
rooms
of
them
as
have
bought
out
their
services
,
that
you
would
think
that
I
had
a
hundred
and
fifty
tattered
prodigals
lately
come
from
swine-keeping
,
from
eating
draff
and
husks
.
A
mad
fellow
met
me
on
the
way
and
told
me
I
had
unloaded
all
the
gibbets
and
pressed
the
dead
bodies
.
No
eye
hath
seen
such
scarecrows
.
I’ll
not
march
through
Coventry
with
them
,
that’s
flat
.
Nay
,
and
the
villains
march
wide
betwixt
the
legs
as
if
they
had
gyves
on
,
for
indeed
I
had
the
most
of
them
out
of
prison
.
There’s
not
a
shirt
and
a
half
in
all
my
company
,
and
the
half
shirt
is
two
napkins
tacked
together
and
thrown
over
the
shoulders
like
a
herald’s
coat
without
sleeves
;
and
the
shirt
,
to
say
the
truth
,
stolen
from
my
host
at
Saint
Albans
or
the
red-nose
innkeeper
of
Daventry
.
But
that’s
all
one
;
they’ll
find
linen
enough
on
every
hedge
.
Enter
the
Prince
and
the
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
How
now
,
blown
Jack
?
How
now
,
quilt
?
What
,
Hal
,
how
now
,
mad
wag
?
What
a
devil
dost
thou
in
Warwickshire
?
—
My
good
Lord
of
ACT 4. SC. 2
Westmoreland
,
I
cry
you
mercy
.
I
thought
your
Honor
had
already
been
at
Shrewsbury
.
Faith
,
Sir
John
,
’tis
more
than
time
that
I
were
there
and
you
too
,
but
my
powers
are
there
already
.
The
King
,
I
can
tell
you
,
looks
for
us
all
.
We
must
away
all
night
.
Tut
,
never
fear
me
.
I
am
as
vigilant
as
a
cat
to
steal
cream
.
I
think
to
steal
cream
indeed
,
for
thy
theft
hath
already
made
thee
butter
.
But
tell
me
,
Jack
,
whose
fellows
are
these
that
come
after
?
Mine
,
Hal
,
mine
.
I
did
never
see
such
pitiful
rascals
.
Tut
,
tut
,
good
enough
to
toss
;
food
for
powder
,
food
for
powder
.
They’ll
fill
a
pit
as
well
as
better
.
Tush
,
man
,
mortal
men
,
mortal
men
.
Ay
,
but
,
Sir
John
,
methinks
they
are
exceeding
poor
and
bare
,
too
beggarly
.
Faith
,
for
their
poverty
,
I
know
not
where
they
had
that
,
and
for
their
bareness
,
I
am
sure
they
never
learned
that
of
me
.
No
,
I’ll
be
sworn
,
unless
you
call
three
fingers
in
the
ribs
bare
.
But
,
sirrah
,
make
haste
.
Percy
is
already
in
the
field
.
He
exits
.
What
,
is
the
King
encamped
?
He
is
,
Sir
John
.
I
fear
we
shall
stay
too
long
.
He
exits
.
Well
,
To
the
latter
end
of
a
fray
and
the
beginning
of
a
feast
Fits
a
dull
fighter
and
a
keen
guest
.
He
exits
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Scene
3
Enter
Hotspur
,
Worcester
,
Douglas
,
and
Vernon
.
We’ll
fight
with
him
tonight
.
It
may
not
be
.
You
give
him
then
advantage
.
Not
a
whit
.
Why
say
you
so
?
Looks
he
not
for
supply
?
So
do
we
.
His
is
certain
;
ours
is
doubtful
.
Good
cousin
,
be
advised
.
Stir
not
tonight
.
,
to
Hotspur
Do
not
,
my
lord
.
You
do
not
counsel
well
.
You
speak
it
out
of
fear
and
cold
heart
.
Do
me
no
slander
,
Douglas
.
By
my
life
(
And
I
dare
well
maintain
it
with
my
life
)
,
If
well-respected
honor
bid
me
on
,
I
hold
as
little
counsel
with
weak
fear
As
you
,
my
lord
,
or
any
Scot
that
this
day
lives
.
Let
it
be
seen
tomorrow
in
the
battle
Which
of
us
fears
.
Yea
,
or
tonight
.
Content
.
Tonight
,
say
I
.
Come
,
come
,
it
may
not
be
.
I
wonder
much
,
Being
men
of
such
great
leading
as
you
are
,
That
you
foresee
not
what
impediments
Drag
back
our
expedition
.
Certain
horse
Of
my
cousin
Vernon’s
are
not
yet
come
up
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Your
uncle
Worcester’s
horse
came
but
today
,
And
now
their
pride
and
mettle
is
asleep
,
Their
courage
with
hard
labor
tame
and
dull
,
That
not
a
horse
is
half
the
half
of
himself
.
So
are
the
horses
of
the
enemy
In
general
journey-bated
and
brought
low
.
The
better
part
of
ours
are
full
of
rest
.
The
number
of
the
King
exceedeth
ours
.
For
God’s
sake
,
cousin
,
stay
till
all
come
in
.
The
trumpet
sounds
a
parley
.
Enter
Sir
Walter
Blunt
.
I
come
with
gracious
offers
from
the
King
,
If
you
vouchsafe
me
hearing
and
respect
.
Welcome
,
Sir
Walter
Blunt
,
and
would
to
God
You
were
of
our
determination
.
Some
of
us
love
you
well
,
and
even
those
some
Envy
your
great
deservings
and
good
name
Because
you
are
not
of
our
quality
But
stand
against
us
like
an
enemy
.
And
God
defend
but
still
I
should
stand
so
,
So
long
as
out
of
limit
and
true
rule
You
stand
against
anointed
majesty
.
But
to
my
charge
.
The
King
hath
sent
to
know
The
nature
of
your
griefs
,
and
whereupon
You
conjure
from
the
breast
of
civil
peace
Such
bold
hostility
,
teaching
his
duteous
land
Audacious
cruelty
.
If
that
the
King
Have
any
way
your
good
deserts
forgot
,
Which
he
confesseth
to
be
manifold
,
He
bids
you
name
your
griefs
,
and
with
all
speed
ACT 4. SC. 3
You
shall
have
your
desires
with
interest
And
pardon
absolute
for
yourself
and
these
Herein
misled
by
your
suggestion
.
The
King
is
kind
,
and
well
we
know
the
King
Knows
at
what
time
to
promise
,
when
to
pay
.
My
father
and
my
uncle
and
myself
Did
give
him
that
same
royalty
he
wears
,
And
when
he
was
not
six-and-twenty
strong
,
Sick
in
the
world’s
regard
,
wretched
and
low
,
A
poor
unminded
outlaw
sneaking
home
,
My
father
gave
him
welcome
to
the
shore
;
And
when
he
heard
him
swear
and
vow
to
God
He
came
but
to
be
Duke
of
Lancaster
,
To
sue
his
livery
,
and
beg
his
peace
With
tears
of
innocency
and
terms
of
zeal
,
My
father
,
in
kind
heart
and
pity
moved
,
Swore
him
assistance
and
performed
it
too
.
Now
when
the
lords
and
barons
of
the
realm
Perceived
Northumberland
did
lean
to
him
,
The
more
and
less
came
in
with
cap
and
knee
,
Met
him
in
boroughs
,
cities
,
villages
,
Attended
him
on
bridges
,
stood
in
lanes
,
Laid
gifts
before
him
,
proffered
him
their
oaths
,
Gave
him
their
heirs
as
pages
,
followed
him
Even
at
the
heels
in
golden
multitudes
.
He
presently
,
as
greatness
knows
itself
,
Steps
me
a
little
higher
than
his
vow
Made
to
my
father
while
his
blood
was
poor
Upon
the
naked
shore
at
Ravenspurgh
,
And
now
forsooth
takes
on
him
to
reform
Some
certain
edicts
and
some
strait
decrees
That
lie
too
heavy
on
the
commonwealth
,
Cries
out
upon
abuses
,
seems
to
weep
Over
his
country’s
wrongs
,
and
by
this
face
,
This
seeming
brow
of
justice
,
did
he
win
The
hearts
of
all
that
he
did
angle
for
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Proceeded
further
—
cut
me
off
the
heads
Of
all
the
favorites
that
the
absent
king
In
deputation
left
behind
him
here
When
he
was
personal
in
the
Irish
war
.
Tut
,
I
came
not
to
hear
this
.
Then
to
the
point
.
In
short
time
after
,
he
deposed
the
King
,
Soon
after
that
deprived
him
of
his
life
And
,
in
the
neck
of
that
,
tasked
the
whole
state
.
To
make
that
worse
,
suffered
his
kinsman
March
(
Who
is
,
if
every
owner
were
well
placed
,
Indeed
his
king
)
to
be
engaged
in
Wales
,
There
without
ransom
to
lie
forfeited
,
Disgraced
me
in
my
happy
victories
,
Sought
to
entrap
me
by
intelligence
,
Rated
mine
uncle
from
the
council
board
,
In
rage
dismissed
my
father
from
the
court
,
Broke
oath
on
oath
,
committed
wrong
on
wrong
,
And
in
conclusion
drove
us
to
seek
out
This
head
of
safety
,
and
withal
to
pry
Into
his
title
,
the
which
we
find
Too
indirect
for
long
continuance
.
Shall
I
return
this
answer
to
the
King
?
Not
so
,
Sir
Walter
.
We’ll
withdraw
awhile
.
Go
to
the
King
,
and
let
there
be
impawned
Some
surety
for
a
safe
return
again
,
And
in
the
morning
early
shall
mine
uncle
Bring
him
our
purposes
.
And
so
farewell
.
I
would
you
would
accept
of
grace
and
love
.
And
maybe
so
we
shall
.
Pray
God
you
do
.
They
exit
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
Scene
4
Enter
Archbishop
of
York
and
Sir
Michael
.
,
handing
papers
Hie
,
good
Sir
Michael
,
bear
this
sealèd
brief
With
wingèd
haste
to
the
Lord
Marshal
,
This
to
my
cousin
Scroop
,
and
all
the
rest
To
whom
they
are
directed
.
If
you
knew
How
much
they
do
import
,
you
would
make
haste
.
My
good
lord
,
I
guess
their
tenor
.
Like
enough
you
do
.
Tomorrow
,
good
Sir
Michael
,
is
a
day
Wherein
the
fortune
of
ten
thousand
men
Must
bide
the
touch
.
For
,
sir
,
at
Shrewsbury
,
As
I
am
truly
given
to
understand
,
The
King
with
mighty
and
quick-raisèd
power
Meets
with
Lord
Harry
.
And
I
fear
,
Sir
Michael
,
What
with
the
sickness
of
Northumberland
,
Whose
power
was
in
the
first
proportion
,
And
what
with
Owen
Glendower’s
absence
thence
,
Who
with
them
was
a
rated
sinew
too
And
comes
not
in
,
o’erruled
by
prophecies
,
I
fear
the
power
of
Percy
is
too
weak
To
wage
an
instant
trial
with
the
King
.
Why
,
my
good
lord
,
you
need
not
fear
.
There
is
Douglas
and
Lord
Mortimer
.
No
,
Mortimer
is
not
there
.
But
there
is
Mordake
,
Vernon
,
Lord
Harry
Percy
,
And
there
is
my
Lord
of
Worcester
,
and
a
head
Of
gallant
warriors
,
noble
gentlemen
.
And
so
there
is
.
But
yet
the
King
hath
drawn
The
special
head
of
all
the
land
together
:
ACT 4. SC. 4
The
Prince
of
Wales
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
The
noble
Westmoreland
,
and
warlike
Blunt
,
And
many
more
corrivals
and
dear
men
Of
estimation
and
command
in
arms
.
Doubt
not
,
my
lord
,
they
shall
be
well
opposed
.
I
hope
no
less
,
yet
needful
’tis
to
fear
;
And
to
prevent
the
worst
,
Sir
Michael
,
speed
.
For
if
Lord
Percy
thrive
not
,
ere
the
King
Dismiss
his
power
he
means
to
visit
us
,
For
he
hath
heard
of
our
confederacy
,
And
’tis
but
wisdom
to
make
strong
against
him
.
Therefore
make
haste
.
I
must
go
write
again
To
other
friends
.
And
so
farewell
,
Sir
Michael
.
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
the
King
,
Prince
of
Wales
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
Sir
Walter
Blunt
,
and
Falstaff
.
How
bloodily
the
sun
begins
to
peer
Above
yon
bulky
hill
.
The
day
looks
pale
At
his
distemp’rature
.
The
southern
wind
Doth
play
the
trumpet
to
his
purposes
,
And
by
his
hollow
whistling
in
the
leaves
Foretells
a
tempest
and
a
blust’ring
day
.
Then
with
the
losers
let
it
sympathize
,
For
nothing
can
seem
foul
to
those
that
win
.
The
trumpet
sounds
.
Enter
Worcester
and
Vernon
.
How
now
,
my
Lord
of
Worcester
?
’Tis
not
well
That
you
and
I
should
meet
upon
such
terms
As
now
we
meet
.
You
have
deceived
our
trust
And
made
us
doff
our
easy
robes
of
peace
To
crush
our
old
limbs
in
ungentle
steel
.
This
is
not
well
,
my
lord
;
this
is
not
well
.
What
say
you
to
it
?
Will
you
again
unknit
This
churlish
knot
of
all-abhorrèd
war
ACT 5. SC. 1
And
move
in
that
obedient
orb
again
Where
you
did
give
a
fair
and
natural
light
,
And
be
no
more
an
exhaled
meteor
,
A
prodigy
of
fear
,
and
a
portent
Of
broachèd
mischief
to
the
unborn
times
?
Hear
me
,
my
liege
:
For
mine
own
part
I
could
be
well
content
To
entertain
the
lag
end
of
my
life
With
quiet
hours
.
For
I
protest
I
have
not
sought
the
day
of
this
dislike
.
You
have
not
sought
it
.
How
comes
it
then
?
Rebellion
lay
in
his
way
,
and
he
found
it
.
Peace
,
chewet
,
peace
.
It
pleased
your
Majesty
to
turn
your
looks
Of
favor
from
myself
and
all
our
house
;
And
yet
I
must
remember
you
,
my
lord
,
We
were
the
first
and
dearest
of
your
friends
.
For
you
my
staff
of
office
did
I
break
In
Richard’s
time
,
and
posted
day
and
night
To
meet
you
on
the
way
and
kiss
your
hand
When
yet
you
were
in
place
and
in
account
Nothing
so
strong
and
fortunate
as
I
.
It
was
myself
,
my
brother
,
and
his
son
That
brought
you
home
and
boldly
did
outdare
The
dangers
of
the
time
.
You
swore
to
us
,
And
you
did
swear
that
oath
at
Doncaster
,
That
you
did
nothing
purpose
’gainst
the
state
,
Nor
claim
no
further
than
your
new-fall’n
right
,
The
seat
of
Gaunt
,
dukedom
of
Lancaster
.
To
this
we
swore
our
aid
.
But
in
short
space
It
rained
down
fortune
show’ring
on
your
head
,
And
such
a
flood
of
greatness
fell
on
you
—
What
with
our
help
,
what
with
the
absent
king
,
What
with
the
injuries
of
a
wanton
time
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
The
seeming
sufferances
that
you
had
borne
,
And
the
contrarious
winds
that
held
the
King
So
long
in
his
unlucky
Irish
wars
That
all
in
England
did
repute
him
dead
—
And
from
this
swarm
of
fair
advantages
You
took
occasion
to
be
quickly
wooed
To
gripe
the
general
sway
into
your
hand
,
Forgot
your
oath
to
us
at
Doncaster
;
And
being
fed
by
us
,
you
used
us
so
As
that
ungentle
gull
,
the
cuckoo’s
bird
,
Useth
the
sparrow
—
did
oppress
our
nest
,
Grew
by
our
feeding
to
so
great
a
bulk
That
even
our
love
durst
not
come
near
your
sight
For
fear
of
swallowing
;
but
with
nimble
wing
We
were
enforced
for
safety
sake
to
fly
Out
of
your
sight
and
raise
this
present
head
,
Whereby
we
stand
opposèd
by
such
means
As
you
yourself
have
forged
against
yourself
By
unkind
usage
,
dangerous
countenance
,
And
violation
of
all
faith
and
troth
Sworn
to
us
in
your
younger
enterprise
.
These
things
indeed
you
have
articulate
,
Proclaimed
at
market
crosses
,
read
in
churches
,
To
face
the
garment
of
rebellion
With
some
fine
color
that
may
please
the
eye
Of
fickle
changelings
and
poor
discontents
,
Which
gape
and
rub
the
elbow
at
the
news
Of
hurlyburly
innovation
.
And
never
yet
did
insurrection
want
Such
water
colors
to
impaint
his
cause
,
Nor
moody
beggars
starving
for
a
time
Of
pellmell
havoc
and
confusion
.
In
both
your
armies
there
is
many
a
soul
Shall
pay
full
dearly
for
this
encounter
ACT 5. SC. 1
If
once
they
join
in
trial
.
Tell
your
nephew
,
The
Prince
of
Wales
doth
join
with
all
the
world
In
praise
of
Henry
Percy
.
By
my
hopes
,
This
present
enterprise
set
off
his
head
,
I
do
not
think
a
braver
gentleman
,
More
active-valiant
,
or
more
valiant-young
,
More
daring
or
more
bold
,
is
now
alive
To
grace
this
latter
age
with
noble
deeds
.
For
my
part
,
I
may
speak
it
to
my
shame
,
I
have
a
truant
been
to
chivalry
,
And
so
I
hear
he
doth
account
me
too
.
Yet
this
before
my
father’s
majesty
:
I
am
content
that
he
shall
take
the
odds
Of
his
great
name
and
estimation
,
And
will
,
to
save
the
blood
on
either
side
,
Try
fortune
with
him
in
a
single
fight
.
And
,
Prince
of
Wales
,
so
dare
we
venture
thee
,
Albeit
considerations
infinite
Do
make
against
it
.
—
No
,
good
Worcester
,
no
.
We
love
our
people
well
,
even
those
we
love
That
are
misled
upon
your
cousin’s
part
.
And
,
will
they
take
the
offer
of
our
grace
,
Both
he
and
they
and
you
,
yea
,
every
man
Shall
be
my
friend
again
,
and
I’ll
be
his
.
So
tell
your
cousin
,
and
bring
me
word
What
he
will
do
.
But
if
he
will
not
yield
,
Rebuke
and
dread
correction
wait
on
us
,
And
they
shall
do
their
office
.
So
begone
.
We
will
not
now
be
troubled
with
reply
.
We
offer
fair
.
Take
it
advisedly
.
Worcester
exits
with
Vernon
.
It
will
not
be
accepted
,
on
my
life
.
The
Douglas
and
the
Hotspur
both
together
Are
confident
against
the
world
in
arms
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
Hence
,
therefore
,
every
leader
to
his
charge
,
For
on
their
answer
will
we
set
on
them
,
And
God
befriend
us
as
our
cause
is
just
.
They
exit
.
Prince
and
Falstaff
remain
.
Hal
,
if
thou
see
me
down
in
the
battle
and
bestride
me
,
so
;
’tis
a
point
of
friendship
.
Nothing
but
a
colossus
can
do
thee
that
friendship
.
Say
thy
prayers
,
and
farewell
.
I
would
’twere
bedtime
,
Hal
,
and
all
well
.
Why
,
thou
owest
God
a
death
.
He
exits
.
’Tis
not
due
yet
.
I
would
be
loath
to
pay
Him
before
His
day
.
What
need
I
be
so
forward
with
Him
that
calls
not
on
me
?
Well
,
’tis
no
matter
.
Honor
pricks
me
on
.
Yea
,
but
how
if
honor
prick
me
off
when
I
come
on
?
How
then
?
Can
honor
set
to
a
leg
?
No
.
Or
an
arm
?
No
.
Or
take
away
the
grief
of
a
wound
?
No
.
Honor
hath
no
skill
in
surgery
,
then
?
No
.
What
is
honor
?
A
word
.
What
is
in
that
word
honor
?
What
is
that
honor
?
Air
.
A
trim
reckoning
.
Who
hath
it
?
He
that
died
o’
Wednesday
.
Doth
he
feel
it
?
No
.
Doth
he
hear
it
?
No
.
’Tis
insensible
,
then
?
Yea
,
to
the
dead
.
But
will
it
not
live
with
the
living
?
No
.
Why
?
Detraction
will
not
suffer
it
.
Therefore
,
I’ll
none
of
it
.
Honor
is
a
mere
scutcheon
.
And
so
ends
my
catechism
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Worcester
and
Sir
Richard
Vernon
.
O
no
,
my
nephew
must
not
know
,
Sir
Richard
,
The
liberal
and
kind
offer
of
the
King
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
’Twere
best
he
did
.
Then
are
we
all
undone
.
It
is
not
possible
,
it
cannot
be
The
King
should
keep
his
word
in
loving
us
.
He
will
suspect
us
still
and
find
a
time
To
punish
this
offense
in
other
faults
.
Suspicion
all
our
lives
shall
be
stuck
full
of
eyes
,
For
treason
is
but
trusted
like
the
fox
,
Who
,
never
so
tame
,
so
cherished
and
locked
up
,
Will
have
a
wild
trick
of
his
ancestors
.
Look
how
we
can
,
or
sad
or
merrily
,
Interpretation
will
misquote
our
looks
,
And
we
shall
feed
like
oxen
at
a
stall
,
The
better
cherished
still
the
nearer
death
.
My
nephew’s
trespass
may
be
well
forgot
;
It
hath
the
excuse
of
youth
and
heat
of
blood
,
And
an
adopted
name
of
privilege
—
A
harebrained
Hotspur
governed
by
a
spleen
.
All
his
offenses
live
upon
my
head
And
on
his
father’s
.
We
did
train
him
on
,
And
his
corruption
being
ta’en
from
us
,
We
as
the
spring
of
all
shall
pay
for
all
.
Therefore
,
good
cousin
,
let
not
Harry
know
In
any
case
the
offer
of
the
King
.
Deliver
what
you
will
;
I’ll
say
’tis
so
.
Enter
Hotspur
,
Douglas
,
and
their
army
.
Here
comes
your
cousin
.
,
to
Douglas
My
uncle
is
returned
.
Deliver
up
my
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
—
Uncle
,
what
news
?
The
King
will
bid
you
battle
presently
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
,
to
Hotspur
Defy
him
by
the
Lord
of
Westmoreland
.
Lord
Douglas
,
go
you
and
tell
him
so
.
Marry
,
and
shall
,
and
very
willingly
.
Douglas
exits
.
There
is
no
seeming
mercy
in
the
King
.
Did
you
beg
any
?
God
forbid
!
I
told
him
gently
of
our
grievances
,
Of
his
oath-breaking
,
which
he
mended
thus
By
now
forswearing
that
he
is
forsworn
.
He
calls
us
rebels
,
traitors
,
and
will
scourge
With
haughty
arms
this
hateful
name
in
us
.
Enter
Douglas
.
Arm
,
gentlemen
,
to
arms
.
For
I
have
thrown
A
brave
defiance
in
King
Henry’s
teeth
,
And
Westmoreland
,
that
was
engaged
,
did
bear
it
,
Which
cannot
choose
but
bring
him
quickly
on
.
The
Prince
of
Wales
stepped
forth
before
the
King
,
And
,
nephew
,
challenged
you
to
single
fight
.
O
,
would
the
quarrel
lay
upon
our
heads
,
And
that
no
man
might
draw
short
breath
today
But
I
and
Harry
Monmouth
!
Tell
me
,
tell
me
,
How
showed
his
tasking
?
Seemed
it
in
contempt
?
No
,
by
my
soul
.
I
never
in
my
life
Did
hear
a
challenge
urged
more
modestly
,
Unless
a
brother
should
a
brother
dare
To
gentle
exercise
and
proof
of
arms
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
He
gave
you
all
the
duties
of
a
man
,
Trimmed
up
your
praises
with
a
princely
tongue
,
Spoke
your
deservings
like
a
chronicle
,
Making
you
ever
better
than
his
praise
By
still
dispraising
praise
valued
with
you
,
And
,
which
became
him
like
a
prince
indeed
,
He
made
a
blushing
cital
of
himself
,
And
chid
his
truant
youth
with
such
a
grace
As
if
he
mastered
there
a
double
spirit
Of
teaching
and
of
learning
instantly
.
There
did
he
pause
,
but
let
me
tell
the
world
:
If
he
outlive
the
envy
of
this
day
,
England
did
never
owe
so
sweet
a
hope
So
much
misconstrued
in
his
wantonness
.
Cousin
,
I
think
thou
art
enamorèd
On
his
follies
.
Never
did
I
hear
Of
any
prince
so
wild
a
liberty
.
But
be
he
as
he
will
,
yet
once
ere
night
I
will
embrace
him
with
a
soldier’s
arm
That
he
shall
shrink
under
my
courtesy
.
—
Arm
,
arm
with
speed
,
and
,
fellows
,
soldiers
,
friends
,
Better
consider
what
you
have
to
do
Than
I
that
have
not
well
the
gift
of
tongue
Can
lift
your
blood
up
with
persuasion
.
Enter
a
Messenger
.
My
lord
,
here
are
letters
for
you
.
I
cannot
read
them
now
.
—
O
gentlemen
,
the
time
of
life
is
short
;
To
spend
that
shortness
basely
were
too
long
If
life
did
ride
upon
a
dial’s
point
,
Still
ending
at
the
arrival
of
an
hour
.
An
if
we
live
,
we
live
to
tread
on
kings
;
If
die
,
brave
death
,
when
princes
die
with
us
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Now
,
for
our
consciences
,
the
arms
are
fair
When
the
intent
of
bearing
them
is
just
.
Enter
another
Messenger
.
My
lord
,
prepare
.
The
King
comes
on
apace
.
I
thank
him
that
he
cuts
me
from
my
tale
,
For
I
profess
not
talking
.
Only
this
:
Let
each
man
do
his
best
.
And
here
draw
I
a
sword
,
Whose
temper
I
intend
to
stain
With
the
best
blood
that
I
can
meet
withal
In
the
adventure
of
this
perilous
day
.
Now
,
Esperance
!
Percy
!
And
set
on
.
Sound
all
the
lofty
instruments
of
war
,
And
by
that
music
let
us
all
embrace
,
For
,
heaven
to
Earth
earth
,
some
of
us
never
shall
A
second
time
do
such
a
courtesy
.
Here
they
embrace
.
The
trumpets
sound
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
The
King
enters
with
his
power
,
crosses
the
stage
and
exits
.
Alarum
to
the
battle
.
Then
enter
Douglas
,
and
Sir
Walter
Blunt
,
disguised
as
the
King
.
,
as
King
What
is
thy
name
that
in
the
battle
thus
Thou
crossest
me
?
What
honor
dost
thou
seek
Upon
my
head
?
Know
then
my
name
is
Douglas
,
And
I
do
haunt
thee
in
the
battle
thus
Because
some
tell
me
that
thou
art
a
king
.
,
as
King
They
tell
thee
true
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
The
Lord
of
Stafford
dear
today
hath
bought
Thy
likeness
,
for
instead
of
thee
,
King
Harry
,
This
sword
hath
ended
him
.
So
shall
it
thee
,
Unless
thou
yield
thee
as
my
prisoner
.
,
as
King
I
was
not
born
a
yielder
,
thou
proud
Scot
,
And
thou
shalt
find
a
king
that
will
revenge
Lord
Stafford’s
death
.
They
fight
.
Douglas
kills
Blunt
.
Then
enter
Hotspur
.
O
Douglas
,
hadst
thou
fought
at
Holmedon
thus
,
I
never
had
triumphed
upon
a
Scot
.
All’s
done
,
all’s
won
;
here
breathless
lies
the
King
.
Where
?
Here
.
This
,
Douglas
?
No
,
I
know
this
face
full
well
.
A
gallant
knight
he
was
;
his
name
was
Blunt
,
Semblably
furnished
like
the
King
himself
.
,
addressing
Blunt’s
corpse
A
fool
go
with
thy
soul
whither
it
goes
!
A
borrowed
title
hast
thou
bought
too
dear
.
Why
didst
thou
tell
me
that
thou
wert
a
king
?
The
King
hath
many
marching
in
his
coats
.
Now
,
by
my
sword
,
I
will
kill
all
his
coats
.
I’ll
murder
all
his
wardrobe
,
piece
by
piece
,
Until
I
meet
the
King
.
Up
and
away
!
Our
soldiers
stand
full
fairly
for
the
day
.
They
exit
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Alarm
.
Enter
Falstaff
alone
.
Though
I
could
’scape
shot-free
at
London
,
I
fear
the
shot
here
.
Here’s
no
scoring
but
upon
the
pate
.
—
Soft
,
who
are
you
?
Sir
Walter
Blunt
.
There’s
honor
for
you
.
Here’s
no
vanity
.
I
am
as
hot
as
molten
lead
,
and
as
heavy
too
.
God
keep
lead
out
of
me
;
I
need
no
more
weight
than
mine
own
bowels
.
I
have
led
my
ragamuffins
where
they
are
peppered
.
There’s
not
three
of
my
hundred
and
fifty
left
alive
,
and
they
are
for
the
town’s
end
,
to
beg
during
life
.
But
who
comes
here
?
Enter
the
Prince
.
What
,
stand’st
thou
idle
here
?
Lend
me
thy
sword
.
Many
a
nobleman
lies
stark
and
stiff
Under
the
hoofs
of
vaunting
enemies
,
Whose
deaths
are
yet
unrevenged
.
I
prithee
Lend
me
thy
sword
.
O
Hal
,
I
prithee
give
me
leave
to
breathe
awhile
.
Turk
Gregory
never
did
such
deeds
in
arms
as
I
have
done
this
day
.
I
have
paid
Percy
;
I
have
made
him
sure
.
He
is
indeed
,
and
living
to
kill
thee
.
I
prithee
,
lend
me
thy
sword
.
Nay
,
before
God
,
Hal
,
if
Percy
be
alive
,
thou
gett’st
not
my
sword
;
but
take
my
pistol
,
if
thou
wilt
.
Give
it
me
.
What
,
is
it
in
the
case
?
Ay
,
Hal
,
’tis
hot
,
’tis
hot
.
There’s
that
will
sack
a
city
.
The
Prince
draws
it
out
,
and
finds
it
to
be
a
bottle
of
sack
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
What
,
is
it
a
time
to
jest
and
dally
now
?
He
throws
the
bottle
at
him
and
exits
.
Well
,
if
Percy
be
alive
,
I’ll
pierce
him
.
If
he
do
come
in
my
way
,
so
;
if
he
do
not
,
if
I
come
in
his
willingly
,
let
him
make
a
carbonado
of
me
.
I
like
not
such
grinning
honor
as
Sir
Walter
hath
.
Give
me
life
,
which
,
if
I
can
save
,
so
:
if
not
,
honor
comes
unlooked
for
,
and
there’s
an
end
.
He
exits
.
Blunt’s
body
is
carried
off
.
Scene
4
Alarm
,
excursions
.
Enter
the
King
,
the
Prince
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
and
the
Earl
of
Westmoreland
.
I
prithee
,
Harry
,
withdraw
thyself
.
Thou
bleedest
too
much
.
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
go
you
with
him
.
Not
I
,
my
lord
,
unless
I
did
bleed
too
.
I
beseech
your
Majesty
,
make
up
,
Lest
your
retirement
do
amaze
your
friends
.
I
will
do
so
.
—
My
Lord
of
Westmoreland
,
Lead
him
to
his
tent
.
Come
,
my
lord
,
I’ll
lead
you
to
your
tent
.
Lead
me
,
my
lord
?
I
do
not
need
your
help
,
And
God
forbid
a
shallow
scratch
should
drive
The
Prince
of
Wales
from
such
a
field
as
this
,
Where
stained
nobility
lies
trodden
on
,
And
rebels’
arms
triumph
in
massacres
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
We
breathe
too
long
.
Come
,
cousin
Westmoreland
,
Our
duty
this
way
lies
.
For
God’s
sake
,
come
.
Lancaster
and
Westmoreland
exit
.
By
God
,
thou
hast
deceived
me
,
Lancaster
.
I
did
not
think
thee
lord
of
such
a
spirit
.
Before
,
I
loved
thee
as
a
brother
,
John
,
But
now
I
do
respect
thee
as
my
soul
.
I
saw
him
hold
Lord
Percy
at
the
point
With
lustier
maintenance
than
I
did
look
for
Of
such
an
ungrown
warrior
.
O
,
this
boy
lends
mettle
to
us
all
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Douglas
.
Another
king
!
They
grow
like
Hydra’s
heads
.
—
I
am
the
Douglas
,
fatal
to
all
those
That
wear
those
colors
on
them
.
What
art
thou
That
counterfeit’st
the
person
of
a
king
?
The
King
himself
,
who
,
Douglas
,
grieves
at
heart
,
So
many
of
his
shadows
thou
hast
met
And
not
the
very
king
.
I
have
two
boys
Seek
Percy
and
thyself
about
the
field
,
But
,
seeing
thou
fall’st
on
me
so
luckily
,
I
will
assay
thee
.
And
defend
thyself
.
I
fear
thou
art
another
counterfeit
,
And
yet
,
in
faith
,
thou
bearest
thee
like
a
king
.
But
mine
I
am
sure
thou
art
,
whoe’er
thou
be
,
And
thus
I
win
thee
.
They
fight
.
The
King
being
in
danger
,
enter
Prince
of
Wales
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
Hold
up
thy
head
,
vile
Scot
,
or
thou
art
like
Never
to
hold
it
up
again
.
The
spirits
Of
valiant
Shirley
,
Stafford
,
Blunt
are
in
my
arms
.
It
is
the
Prince
of
Wales
that
threatens
thee
,
Who
never
promiseth
but
he
means
to
pay
.
They
fight
.
Douglas
flieth
.
To
King
.
Cheerly
,
my
lord
.
How
fares
your
Grace
?
Sir
Nicholas
Gawsey
hath
for
succor
sent
,
And
so
hath
Clifton
.
I’ll
to
Clifton
straight
.
Stay
and
breathe
awhile
.
Thou
hast
redeemed
thy
lost
opinion
And
showed
thou
mak’st
some
tender
of
my
life
In
this
fair
rescue
thou
hast
brought
to
me
.
O
God
,
they
did
me
too
much
injury
That
ever
said
I
hearkened
for
your
death
.
If
it
were
so
,
I
might
have
let
alone
The
insulting
hand
of
Douglas
over
you
,
Which
would
have
been
as
speedy
in
your
end
As
all
the
poisonous
potions
in
the
world
,
And
saved
the
treacherous
labor
of
your
son
.
Make
up
to
Clifton
.
I’ll
to
Sir
Nicholas
Gawsey
.
King
exits
.
Enter
Hotspur
.
If
I
mistake
not
,
thou
art
Harry
Monmouth
.
Thou
speak’st
as
if
I
would
deny
my
name
.
My
name
is
Harry
Percy
.
Why
then
I
see
A
very
valiant
rebel
of
the
name
.
I
am
the
Prince
of
Wales
;
and
think
not
,
Percy
,
ACT 5. SC. 4
To
share
with
me
in
glory
any
more
.
Two
stars
keep
not
their
motion
in
one
sphere
,
Nor
can
one
England
brook
a
double
reign
Of
Harry
Percy
and
the
Prince
of
Wales
.
Nor
shall
it
,
Harry
,
for
the
hour
is
come
To
end
the
one
of
us
,
and
would
to
God
Thy
name
in
arms
were
now
as
great
as
mine
.
I’ll
make
it
greater
ere
I
part
from
thee
,
And
all
the
budding
honors
on
thy
crest
I’ll
crop
to
make
a
garland
for
my
head
.
I
can
no
longer
brook
thy
vanities
.
They
fight
.
Enter
Falstaff
.
Well
said
,
Hal
!
To
it
,
Hal
!
Nay
,
you
shall
find
no
boys’
play
here
,
I
can
tell
you
.
Enter
Douglas
.
He
fighteth
with
Falstaff
,
who
falls
down
as
if
he
were
dead
.
Douglas
exits
.
The
Prince
killeth
Percy
.
O
Harry
,
thou
hast
robbed
me
of
my
youth
.
I
better
brook
the
loss
of
brittle
life
Than
those
proud
titles
thou
hast
won
of
me
.
They
wound
my
thoughts
worse
than
thy
sword
my
flesh
.
But
thoughts
,
the
slaves
of
life
,
and
life
,
time’s
fool
,
And
time
,
that
takes
survey
of
all
the
world
,
Must
have
a
stop
.
O
,
I
could
prophesy
,
But
that
the
earthy
and
cold
hand
of
death
Lies
on
my
tongue
.
No
,
Percy
,
thou
art
dust
,
And
food
for
—
He
dies
.
For
worms
,
brave
Percy
.
Fare
thee
well
,
great
heart
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
Ill-weaved
ambition
,
how
much
art
thou
shrunk
!
When
that
this
body
did
contain
a
spirit
,
A
kingdom
for
it
was
too
small
a
bound
,
But
now
two
paces
of
the
vilest
earth
Is
room
enough
.
This
earth
that
bears
thee
dead
Bears
not
alive
so
stout
a
gentleman
.
If
thou
wert
sensible
of
courtesy
,
I
should
not
make
so
dear
a
show
of
zeal
.
But
let
my
favors
hide
thy
mangled
face
;
He
covers
Hotspur’s
face
.
And
even
in
thy
behalf
I’ll
thank
myself
For
doing
these
fair
rites
of
tenderness
.
Adieu
,
and
take
thy
praise
with
thee
to
heaven
.
Thy
ignominy
sleep
with
thee
in
the
grave
,
But
not
remembered
in
thy
epitaph
.
He
spieth
Falstaff
on
the
ground
.
What
,
old
acquaintance
,
could
not
all
this
flesh
Keep
in
a
little
life
?
Poor
Jack
,
farewell
.
I
could
have
better
spared
a
better
man
.
O
,
I
should
have
a
heavy
miss
of
thee
If
I
were
much
in
love
with
vanity
.
Death
hath
not
struck
so
fat
a
deer
today
,
Though
many
dearer
in
this
bloody
fray
.
Emboweled
will
I
see
thee
by
and
by
;
Till
then
in
blood
by
noble
Percy
lie
.
He
exits
.
Falstaff
riseth
up
.
Emboweled
?
If
thou
embowel
me
today
,
I’ll
give
you
leave
to
powder
me
and
eat
me
too
tomorrow
.
’Sblood
,
’twas
time
to
counterfeit
,
or
that
hot
termagant
Scot
had
paid
me
scot
and
lot
too
.
Counterfeit
?
I
lie
.
I
am
no
counterfeit
.
To
die
is
to
be
a
counterfeit
,
for
he
is
but
the
counterfeit
of
a
man
who
hath
not
the
life
of
a
man
;
but
to
counterfeit
dying
when
a
man
thereby
liveth
is
to
be
no
counterfeit
,
but
the
true
and
perfect
image
of
life
indeed
.
The
better
part
of
valor
is
discretion
,
in
the
ACT 5. SC. 4
which
better
part
I
have
saved
my
life
.
Zounds
,
I
am
afraid
of
this
gunpowder
Percy
,
though
he
be
dead
.
How
if
he
should
counterfeit
too
,
and
rise
?
By
my
faith
,
I
am
afraid
he
would
prove
the
better
counterfeit
.
Therefore
I’ll
make
him
sure
,
yea
,
and
I’ll
swear
I
killed
him
.
Why
may
not
he
rise
as
well
as
I
?
Nothing
confutes
me
but
eyes
,
and
nobody
sees
me
.
Therefore
,
sirrah
,
stabbing
him
with
a
new
wound
in
your
thigh
,
come
you
along
with
me
.
He
takes
up
Hotspur
on
his
back
.
Enter
Prince
and
John
of
Lancaster
.
Come
,
brother
John
.
Full
bravely
hast
thou
fleshed
Thy
maiden
sword
.
But
soft
,
whom
have
we
here
?
Did
you
not
tell
me
this
fat
man
was
dead
?
I
did
;
I
saw
him
dead
,
Breathless
and
bleeding
on
the
ground
.
—
Art
thou
alive
?
Or
is
it
fantasy
that
plays
upon
our
eyesight
?
I
prithee
,
speak
.
We
will
not
trust
our
eyes
Without
our
ears
.
Thou
art
not
what
thou
seem’st
.
No
,
that’s
certain
.
I
am
not
a
double
man
.
But
if
I
be
not
Jack
Falstaff
,
then
am
I
a
jack
.
There
is
Percy
.
If
your
father
will
do
me
any
honor
,
so
;
if
not
,
let
him
kill
the
next
Percy
himself
.
I
look
to
be
either
earl
or
duke
,
I
can
assure
you
.
Why
,
Percy
I
killed
myself
,
and
saw
thee
dead
.
Didst
thou
?
Lord
,
Lord
,
how
this
world
is
given
to
lying
.
I
grant
you
,
I
was
down
and
out
of
breath
,
and
so
was
he
,
but
we
rose
both
at
an
instant
and
fought
a
long
hour
by
Shrewsbury
clock
.
If
I
may
be
believed
,
so
;
if
not
,
let
them
that
should
reward
valor
bear
the
sin
upon
their
own
heads
.
I’ll
ACT 5. SC. 5
take
it
upon
my
death
,
I
gave
him
this
wound
in
the
thigh
.
If
the
man
were
alive
and
would
deny
it
,
zounds
,
I
would
make
him
eat
a
piece
of
my
sword
.
This
is
the
strangest
tale
that
ever
I
heard
.
This
is
the
strangest
fellow
,
brother
John
.
—
Come
bring
your
luggage
nobly
on
your
back
.
For
my
part
,
if
a
lie
may
do
thee
grace
,
I’ll
gild
it
with
the
happiest
terms
I
have
.
A
retreat
is
sounded
.
The
trumpet
sounds
retreat
;
the
day
is
ours
.
Come
,
brother
,
let
us
to
the
highest
of
the
field
To
see
what
friends
are
living
,
who
are
dead
.
They
exit
.
I’ll
follow
,
as
they
say
,
for
reward
.
He
that
rewards
me
,
God
reward
him
.
If
I
do
grow
great
,
I’ll
grow
less
,
for
I’ll
purge
and
leave
sack
and
live
cleanly
as
a
nobleman
should
do
.
He
exits
carrying
Hotspur’s
body
.
Scene
5
The
trumpets
sound
.
Enter
the
King
,
Prince
of
Wales
,
Lord
John
of
Lancaster
,
Earl
of
Westmoreland
,
with
Worcester
and
Vernon
prisoners
,
and
Soldiers
.
Thus
ever
did
rebellion
find
rebuke
.
—
Ill-spirited
Worcester
,
did
not
we
send
grace
,
Pardon
,
and
terms
of
love
to
all
of
you
?
And
wouldst
thou
turn
our
offers
contrary
,
Misuse
the
tenor
of
thy
kinsman’s
trust
?
Three
knights
upon
our
party
slain
today
,
A
noble
earl
,
and
many
a
creature
else
ACT 5. SC. 5
Had
been
alive
this
hour
If
,
like
a
Christian
,
thou
hadst
truly
borne
Betwixt
our
armies
true
intelligence
.
What
I
have
done
my
safety
urged
me
to
.
And
I
embrace
this
fortune
patiently
,
Since
not
to
be
avoided
it
falls
on
me
.
Bear
Worcester
to
the
death
,
and
Vernon
too
.
Other
offenders
we
will
pause
upon
.
Worcester
and
Vernon
exit
,
under
guard
.
How
goes
the
field
?
The
noble
Scot
,
Lord
Douglas
,
when
he
saw
The
fortune
of
the
day
quite
turned
from
him
,
The
noble
Percy
slain
,
and
all
his
men
Upon
the
foot
of
fear
,
fled
with
the
rest
,
And
,
falling
from
a
hill
,
he
was
so
bruised
That
the
pursuers
took
him
.
At
my
tent
The
Douglas
is
,
and
I
beseech
your
Grace
I
may
dispose
of
him
.
With
all
my
heart
.
Then
,
brother
John
of
Lancaster
,
to
you
This
honorable
bounty
shall
belong
.
Go
to
the
Douglas
and
deliver
him
Up
to
his
pleasure
,
ransomless
and
free
.
His
valors
shown
upon
our
crests
today
Have
taught
us
how
to
cherish
such
high
deeds
,
Even
in
the
bosom
of
our
adversaries
.
I
thank
your
Grace
for
this
high
courtesy
,
Which
I
shall
give
away
immediately
.
Then
this
remains
,
that
we
divide
our
power
.
You
,
son
John
,
and
my
cousin
Westmoreland
,
ACT 5. SC. 5
Towards
York
shall
bend
you
with
your
dearest
speed
To
meet
Northumberland
and
the
prelate
Scroop
,
Who
,
as
we
hear
,
are
busily
in
arms
.
Myself
and
you
,
son
Harry
,
will
towards
Wales
To
fight
with
Glendower
and
the
Earl
of
March
.
Rebellion
in
this
land
shall
lose
his
sway
,
Meeting
the
check
of
such
another
day
.
And
since
this
business
so
fair
is
done
,
Let
us
not
leave
till
all
our
own
be
won
.
They
exit
.
all or part of a full metrical line
all or part of a prose speech
a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose
editorial emendation