TEbeftEttbor Sbaftespeare 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON 
 
 AND 
 
 ASHLEY HORACE THORNDIKE 
 
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO DALLAS 
 ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 OF CANADA, LIMITED 
 
 TORONTO 
 
Ube Uutor Sbaftespeare * 
 
 the plays and poems, each under the special editorship of an American 
 scholar. The general editors are WILLIAM ALLAN NBILSON, Ph.D., 
 LL.D., President of Smith College, and ASHLEY HORACE THOBN- 
 DIKE, Ph.D., L.H.D., of Columbia University. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet The GENERAL EDITORS. 
 
 A Midsummer-Night's Dream JOHN W. CUNLIFFE, D.Lit., Profes- 
 
 sor of English, Columbia University. 
 Macbeth ARTHUR C. L. BROWN, Ph.D., Professor of English, North- 
 
 western University. 
 Henry IV, Part I FRANK W. CHANDLER, Ph.D., Professor of Eng- 
 
 lish and Comparative Literature, University of Cincinnati. 
 Troilus and Cressida JOHN S. P. TATLOCK, Ph.D., Professor of Eng- 
 
 lish, University^ Michigan. 
 Henry V LEWIS F. MOTT, Ph.D., Professor of English, College of the 
 
 City of New York. 
 The Merchant of Venice HARRY M. AYREB, Ph.D., Assistant Pro- 
 
 fessor of English, Columbia University. 
 As You Like It MARTHA H. SHACKFORD, Ph.D., Associate Professor 
 
 of English Literature. Wellesley College. 
 Coriolanus STUART P. SHERMAN, Ph.D., Professor of English, Uni- 
 
 versity of Illinois. 
 Henry VI, Part I LOUISE POUND, Ph.D., Assistant Professor of Eng- 
 
 lish, University of Nebraska. 
 Henry VIII CHARLES G. DUNLAP, Litt.D., Professor of English Lit- 
 
 erature, University of Kansas. 
 Comedy of Errors FREDERICK MORGAN PADELFORD, Ph.D., Pro- 
 
 fessor of English, University of Washington. 
 King John HENRY M. BELDEN, Ph.D., Professor of English, Uni- 
 
 versity of Missouri. 
 King Lear VIRGINIA C. GILDERSLEEVE, Ph.D., Dean of Barnard 
 
 College. 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing WILLIAM W. LAWRENCE, Ph.D., Associate 
 
 Professor of English, Columbia University. 
 Love's Labour's Lost JAMES F. ROYSTER, Ph.D., Professor of Eng- 
 
 lish, University of North Carolina. 
 Henry IV, Part II ELIZABETH DEERTNQ HANSCOM, Ph.D., Pro- 
 
 fessor of English, Smith College. 
 Richard II! GEORGE B. CHURCHILL, Ph.D., Professor of English, 
 
 Amherst College. 
 
The Winter's Tale LAURA J. WTLIB, Ph.D., Professor of English, 
 Vassar College. 
 
 Othello THOMAS M. PABBOTT, Ph.D., Professor of English, Prince- 
 ton University. 
 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona MAETIN W. SAMPSON, A.M., Gold- 
 win Smith Professor of English Literature, Cornell University. 
 
 All's Well that Ends Well JOHN L. LOWES, Ph.D., Professor of Eng- 
 lish, Washington University, St. Louis. 
 
 Richard II HABDIN CBAIQ, Ph.D., Professor of English, University 
 of Minnesota. 
 
 Measure for Measure EDGAB C. MORRIS, A.M., Professor of Eng- 
 lish, Syracuse University. 
 
 Twelfth Night WALTER MORRIS HABT, Ph.D., Associate Professor 
 of English, University of California. 
 
 The Taming of the Shrew FREDERICK TUPPEB, Jr., Ph.D., Pro- 
 fessor of English, University of Vermont. 
 
 Julius Csesar ROBERT M. LOVETT, A.B., Professor of English, 
 University of Chicago. 
 
 Timon of Athens ROBERT HUNTINGTON FLETCHER, Ph.D., Pro- 
 fessor of English Literature, Grinnell College, Iowa. 
 
 Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece CABLETON BBOWN, Ph.D., Pro- 
 fessor of English, Bryn Mawr College. 
 
 Henry VI, Part III ROBEBT ADGEB LAW, Ph.D., Adjunct Professor 
 of English, the University of Texas. 
 
 Cymbeline WILL D. HOWE, Ph.D., Professor of English, Indiana 
 University. 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor FRED P. EMEBY, A.M., Professor of Eng- 
 lish, Dartmouth College. 
 
 Titus Andronicus ELMEB E. STOLL, Ph.D., 
 
 Pericles C. ALPHONSO SMITH, Ph.D., Edgar Allan Poe Professor of 
 English, University of Virginia. 
 
 The Sonnets RAYMOND M. ALDEN, Ph.D., Professor of English, 
 University of Illinois. 
 
 Hamlet GEORGE PIEBCE BAKER, A.B., Professor of Dramatic Lit- 
 erature, Harvard University. 
 
 Henry VI, Part II CHABLES H. BABNWELL, Ph.D., Professor of 
 English, University of Alabama. 
 
 The Tempest HERBERT E. GREENE, Ph.D., Professor of English, 
 Johns Hopkins University. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra GEORGE WYLLYS BENEDICT, Ph.D., Associate 
 Professor of English, Brown University. 
 
-I 
 1 
 

 ELIZABETH DEERING HANSCOM, PH.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN SMITH COLLEGE 
 
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 bg 3S2Silliam Lilian Netlson 
 
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 prtnttU June, 1912 
 
The Second Part of Henry IV first appeared in 
 a quarto entitled " The Second part of Henrie the fourth, 
 continuing to his death, and Coronation of Henrie the fift. 
 With the humours of sir John Falstaffe, and swaggering 
 Pistoll. As it hath been sundrie times publikely acted 
 by the right honourable, the Lord Chamberlaine his ser- 
 uants. Written by William Shakespeare. London. 
 Printed by V. S. for Andrew Wise, and William Aspley. 
 1600.'* Although there were six quarto editions of The 
 First Part of Henry IV between 1598 and 1623, this quarto 
 of 1600 is the only form in which The Second Part is 
 known to have appeared before the Folio of 1623. Thirty- 
 nine lines which appear in the Quarto are not found in 
 the Folio, which, however, contains one hundred and 
 seventy-one new lines. These lines may have been 
 omitted from the Quarto for abridgment of the acting 
 version, as one or two of the excisions, notably I. i. 189-209, 
 are awkwardly managed " cuts." A number of differences 
 are accounted for by the increasingly strict enactments 
 against profanity, obscenity, and biblical allusions on 
 the stage, in consequence of which the Folio text was 
 purged of some of the grossness of the Quarto. There 
 are two forms of the Quarto, in one of which, obviously 
 by accident, Act III. sc. i. is omitted. The text of the com- 
 plete Quarto is used as the basis of the present text, the 
 additions from the Folio being inclosed in brackets. 
 vii 
 
3|ntroDuctton 
 
 Date of Composition. The connection between the 
 two parts of Henry IV in material, treatment, and style 
 is so intimate as to enforce the conclusion that they were 
 written in immediate succession; indeed they are more 
 nearly one ten-act play than two five-act plays. If 1597 
 be accepted as the year of composition of The First Part, 1 
 this affords a date after which The Second Part was written. 
 In Ben Jonson's Every Man Out of his Humour, V. ii., 
 occurs a reference to Justice Silence which fixes the com- 
 position of The Second Part before 1599, the year in which 
 Jonson's play was first performed. Between 1597 and 
 1599 then we must place it. But The First Part was 
 entered on the Stationers' Register on February 25, 1598, 
 as containing, in addition to historical material, " the 
 conceipted mirthe of Sir John Falstoff." Evidently then 
 the change of the name from Oldcastle to Falstaff had been 
 made prior to the entry of The First Part. 2 But in the 
 Quarto of The Second Part, the prefix Old stands before 
 a speech of Falstaff, I. ii. 137. This seems to show that 
 The Second Part as well as The First Part was written 
 before the change in name, and that a carelessly corrected 
 copy was given to the printer. If this be granted, the date 
 of composition of The Second Part can be fixed in the 
 latter part of 1597 or in 1598 before February 25. The 
 play was entered on the Stationers' Register on August 23, 
 1600. It is noticeable that this is the first play entered 
 on the Register which is stated to be the work of Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 1 See Introduction to The First Part of Henry IV in this 
 series. 2 Ibid. 
 
3|ntro5uctton ix 
 
 Sources of the Plot. _ For fa e historical material of 
 this, as of most of his English chronicle plays, Shakespeare 
 drew from Raphael Holinshed's Chronicles of England, 
 Scotland, and Ireland, apparently from the second and 
 enlarged edition of 1587. The incidents which compose 
 the serious action of the drama are taken in their outline 
 from the Chronicles.^ Holinshed refers briefly to the 
 sentence pronounced upon the Prince by the Chief Justice, 
 but the version of the story containing the defence of the 
 Chief Justice and^ the Prince's recognition of his equity 
 is given fully in Sir Thomas Elyot's Gouvernour, 1531. 
 The fact that later investigation has not found a com- 
 pletely satisfactory historical basis for it does not invalidate 
 its dramatic value. It is hardly necessary to add that in 
 this play, as elsewhere, Shakespeare takes most generous 
 liberties with time, compressing, changing, rearranging 
 to suit the purpose of his play, and that dramatic time and 
 historic time are constantly confused. 
 
 Several of the incidents had already appeared in a play 
 entitled The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth,* acted 
 before 1588 and licensed for printing in 1594. In this 
 are found the first dramatization of the sentence on the 
 Prince, the King's lament for the fate of England under 
 the rule of his wayward son, and his pleas to the nobles 
 for leniency, the incident of the stealing of the crown, and 
 
 1 The most convenient edition of the Chronicles is Shakspere's 
 Holinshedy the Chronicle and the Historical Plays Compared, by 
 W. G. Boswell-Stone. London and New York : 1896. 
 
 2 This play is accessible in the Shakespeare Quarto Facsimiles, 
 edited by P. A. Daniel. London : 1887. 
 
x 3|ntroimction 
 
 the consequent reconciliation of the dying father and the 
 repentant son. Here also the coronation procession is 
 cheered on by the jovial salutations of two former com- 
 panions, Ned and Tom, whom the King banishes after 
 bestowing on them moral advice. This play is extremely 
 crude, lacking both the finish of expression and the insight 
 into character that frequently enliven the pages of the 
 Chronicles. 
 
 It will be seen that, as is frequent with Shakespeare, 
 the main incidents of his play had appeared in an earlier 
 dramatic as well as in narrative form. In a few places 
 the spirit of the present play seems to owe something to 
 its sources; more rarely there is verbal indebtedness; 
 but in general the sources furnish the merest framework 
 which Shakespeare fills out with dramatic action and ani- 
 mates with personal motive. This is especially noticeable 
 in the scenes between the King and the Prince. A com- 
 parison of the versions of the stealing of the crown in the 
 Chronicles, The Famous Victories, and The Second Part 
 of Henry IV strikingly illustrates the meaning of dramatic 
 selection and expansion, and convinces one anew that a 
 dramatist is great not because of what he invents, but 
 because of what he vivifies. 
 
 Local and Personal Allusion*. Both the tavern scenes 
 and those located in Gloucestershire abound in local 
 allusions. In the former, Shakespeare was drawing on 
 his intimate knowledge of London, a knowledge which 
 most of his audience shared, and doubtless there are far 
 more contemporary and local references than any antiquary 
 can now discover; in the latter, he made use of the store 
 
3jntroouction xi 
 
 of memories he had brought from his boyhood in the coun- 
 try. Although in Warwickshire, Stratford is almost on 
 the border of Gloucestershire; the Cotswold district, fa- 
 mous for its athletic sports (III. ii. 24) is easily accessible ; 
 Hinckley (V. i. 26) and Barston (V. iii. 94) are neighbor- 
 ing towns; then as now the Visor, or Vizard, family lived 
 at Woodmancote, which is still pronounced Woncot 
 (V. i. 42); and in the sixteenth century their neighbors, 
 the Perkes family, occupied a place still known as "The 
 Hill " (V. i. 43JT Justice Shallow is usually taken to be a 
 caricature of Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, but the pas- 
 sages which give color to this identification are in The 
 Merry Wives of Windsor* 
 
 The Name of f distaff. The name of the comedy hero 
 of these plays was originally Sir John Oldcastle, but was 
 changed to Falstaff before the publication of The First 
 Part, but not before the composition of The Second Part. 
 (See page viii, supra.) The facts regarding Sir John Old- 
 castle, the probable reasons leading to the change of name, 
 as well as the facts regarding the historical Sir John 
 Fastolfe of Caister, have been given in the Introduction to 
 The First Part of Henry IV in this series, and need not here 
 be repeated. It is agreed that Shakespeare's creation 
 owed his later name, the punning allusion to his original 
 name, " my old lad of the castle," his connection with the 
 Boar's Head Tavern, his size, and his cowardice (although 
 history is here traduced) to these two historical person- 
 ages. In an article on " The Two Sir John Fastolfes " 
 in the Royal Historical Society Transactions for 1910, 
 L. W. Vernon Harcourt sought to p/ove that there is still 
 
xii 3|ntroDuctton 
 
 another historical foundation for this character, also that 
 the story of the Prince's madcap insult to the Chief Justice 
 may have more authoritative ground than has hitherto 
 been conceded to it. As has been stated above, this 
 story first appeared in 1531, nearly a century and a quarter 
 after it could have happened. But Mr. Harcourt has 
 shown by contemporary records that in the reign of 
 Henry IV, before the Scrope rebellion of 1405, Sir John 
 Fastolf of Nacton and Sir John, Lord Cobham, the father- 
 in-law of Sir John Oldcastle, were involved in contempt 
 of court, as a result of which Fastolf was committed and 
 bound over to keep the peace. If this were the basis of 
 Elyot's story of the Prince's intervention in behalf of one 
 of his favorites, the identification would go far to prove 
 the historical original of Shakespeare's Falstaff; but, 
 as the author of the article acknowledges, the story, while 
 " highly probable," "is not strictly proved." Sir John. 
 Oldcastle, Sir John Fastolfe of Caister, Sir John Fastolf 
 of Nacton, one, two, or three of them may have furnished 
 suggestions; even grouped as a tripod, they make but a 
 slender base for so colossal a monument of wit. Sir 
 John Falstaff remains Shakespeare's own. 
 
 Historical Basis. _ The Second Part of Henry IV opens 
 with the news of the battle of Shrewsbury, which was 
 fought July 21, 1403. From there the King hurried north 
 and met the Earl of Northumberland, who submitted to 
 him at York, August n. In 1405 Northumberland and 
 Bardolph joined in open revolt; and Archbishop Scrope and 
 Thomas Mowbray, the Earl Marshal, roused Yorkshire 
 against the King, who turned back from Wales to encoun- 
 
3IntroDuctton 
 
 ter them. Before he arrived, however, the Earl of West- 
 moreland had broken the rebellion at Shipton Moor, 
 May 29, 1405. After an irregular trial both Scrope and 
 Mowbray were executed. Another revolt of Northumber- 
 land and Bardolph was crushed in 1408, and this put an 
 end to rebellion in the reign of Henry IV. But a long 
 series of illnesses, beginning in 1404, had enfeebled the 
 King's health, and prolonged disagreement with parlia- 
 ment embarrassed his position. He seems, however, to 
 have planned a crusade as late as October, 1412. He was 
 unable to transactjmsiness at his last parliament, sum- 
 moned in February, 1413. While in Westminster Abbey 
 he was seized with a fit, was removed to the Jerusalem 
 Chamber, and died there on March 20, 1413. 
 
 After his valorous action at Shrewsbury, Prince Henry 
 was greatly in favor among the English people, and by 
 request of parliament was entrusted with the command on 
 the Welsh border. Owing to this popularity and the 
 increasing illness of his father, a proposal was made in 
 the parliament* of 1410 that the King should abdicate in 
 favor of the Prince. Shortly after this his power seems 
 to have been much checked, his place in council was taken 
 by his brother Thomas, and for a year or two history knows 
 little of him. He was crowned April 9, 1413. The story 
 of his wild youth can be traced back to the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, and has become so much a part of the national hero 
 as to be accepted as history. 
 
 Stage History. From its very nature The Second Part 
 of Henry IV could not well be popular on the stage. Not 
 
3|ntroimetfon 
 
 alone its dependence upon The First Part, but its manifest 
 inferiority in all points that make for theatrical success, 
 excludes it from the list of favorite plays. Yet Falstaff 
 seems to have kept it alive, even during the reign of 
 Charles II, when Shakespeare was comparatively out of 
 vogue. There is a tradition that John Heminge (d. 1630) 
 first played the part of Falstaff. John Lowin (1576-1669) 
 is known to have acted the part, " with mighty applause," 
 says Wright, in his Historia Histrionica; but whether in 
 one or both parts of the play does not appear. At the 
 Restoration Cartwright acted Falstaff in both parts, and he 
 was followed by Lacy. In 1700, when Betterton ceased 
 playing Hotspur on account of his age and took the char- 
 acter of Falstaff, he probably appeared in both plays. He 
 made an acting version of The Second Part, considerably 
 changed from the original, which was acted in 1720 with 
 Mills as Falstaff and Booth as King. Quinn, who was 
 the best Falstaff of his time, chose The Second Part for 
 his benefit at Drury Lane Theater in 1736; and other 
 famous comedians who appeared in this play during the 
 first half of the eighteenth century were Harper, Love, 
 Woodward, and Shuter. Garrick played the King with 
 Woodward as Falstaff in 1758; and in 1804 John and 
 Charles Kemble played the parts of the King and the 
 Prince. The next revival was in 1821, when a magnificent 
 representation was given at Covent Garden Theatre, with 
 highly spectacular interpolated scenes of the coronation. 
 The cast included Macready as King and Charles Kemble 
 as Prince. The latter actor occasionally essayed the part 
 of Falstaff, but unsuccessfully. The play was included in 
 Phelps's repertoire at Sadlers' Wells Theatre, London, 
 
3|ntroQuction 
 
 XV 
 
 between 1844 and 1862, but only a few times even by 
 that persistent reviver of Shakespeare. 
 
 In the United States Falstaff was first acted in the winter 
 of 1761-1762 by David Douglass at his theatre in New York. 
 There are twenty-six records of the play of Henry IV in 
 T. Allston Brown's History of the New York Stage from 1732 to 
 1901, but none of these refer specifically to The Second Part. 
 
 Within the last six years the play has been presented by 
 Mr. Benson's English company of Shakespearean players. 
 It is only as a " revival," however, that it is put on the 
 stage, and even^then can hardly hold the attention of any 
 save the scholarly curious. 
 
 Relation to the Tetralogy. _ Richard ^ 1 and 2 Henry 
 
 IV, and Henry Fform a tetralogy of which the general subject 
 is the vindication of the House of Lancaster. There is 
 little doubt that the last three plays were written in imme- 
 diate succession and followed the first after an interval of 
 several years. There is a separation not only in time, but 
 in style and treatment, between Richard II and the other 
 plays. Its problem is that delicate and dangerous question 
 as to the right of revolt, and this problem is worked out 
 with psychological subtlety and political casuistry, ex- 
 pressed with lyric grace; a closet drama almost, in its 
 fineness and delicacy, lacking the dramatic requisites of a 
 controlling figure and unity of action centering around that 
 figure. The First Part of Henry IV shows the insecurity 
 of the usurping king, beset by foreign and domestic foes, 
 and, above all, harassed by bitter, brooding dissatisfaction 
 with his own son and heir. Another element is brought 
 
xvi 3|ntrofiuctfon 
 
 in, not new to the English drama. As far back as the 
 plays drawn from the Bible, the English people had been 
 accustomed to scenes of rough local and contemporary 
 comedy alternating with serious historic action. Shake- 
 speare was but making use of a familiar device and im- 
 proving on it in characteristic fashion. But in these 
 scenes, at first sight so extraneous, the character of the 
 Prince is revealed; here quite as much as on the battle- 
 field at Shrewsbury the future king was developing those 
 qualities that made of him a national hero. It is in this 
 way that the play, composed of such apparently diverse 
 elements, is unified; or rather this is the contribution of 
 the comedy scenes to the tetralogy. 
 
 The Second Part of Henry IV has no such character 
 interest as has The First Part. The Prince has met the 
 challenge of fact and has found himself; he drifts back 
 for a time to the taverns but the old life has lost its zest, 
 and the new duties are not urgent. The themes of The 
 First Part are repeated less vigorously in The Second Part; 
 but Scrope's rebellion does not hold our imagination as 
 did that of the Percys; and the tavern scenes lose half 
 their fun when the Prince is not there to share it. The 
 King becomes once more, or rather, perhaps for the first 
 time, the central figure ; and, broken in body and spirit, 
 cries out against fortune that will " never come with 
 both hands full." In the bitter review of his course the 
 conscience of the usurper at last finds utterance. Then 
 from the crowning grief of his life comes the crowning 
 satisfaction: England, whom next himself he had loved, 
 England, over whose fate he had poured forth his last 
 
31ntroOuctton 
 
 sighs, is to be saved, and saved by the very hands from 
 which she had most to dread. Out of the misunderstand- 
 ings and half truths, the accusations and confessions of 
 the crown scene emerges one clear note, 
 
 " You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me : 
 Then plain and right must my possession be." / 
 
 To a generation of casuists the conclusion may not be 
 clear; to the Elizabethans it was' triumphantly satisfac- 
 tory. The play of Henry V is an epic chant of vindication. 
 Here and there Shakespeare returns for a scene to some- 
 thing like the style of Henry IV; here and there for a 
 brief moment the oil method of character contrast is 
 used or the King is seen in relations that dimly suggest 
 the days of his jovial youth; but as a whole the play is 
 heroic, the King moves in epic grandeur. All that Richard 
 should have been, all that Henry IV longed to be, this 
 Henry was, by the grace of God King. 
 
 Interpretation. For the character of the Prince this play 
 seems to begin after the climax. The crisis of Shrewsbury 
 has no counterpart in Part II. For a time the Prince 
 rusts in inaction. There is no foeman worthy of his 
 steel ; his father, harassed by illness and rebellion, grows 
 distrustful again; and the Prince knows too well that 
 " every man's thought" would echo Poins's judgment of 
 him as " a most princely hypocrite " if he should express 
 the solicitude he sincerely feels. There is then little 
 light-heartedness in the Prince's merrymaking, and the 
 tavern scenes read almost like poor imitations of those in 
 The First Part. With the curt farewell, " Falstaff, good 
 
tfc 
 
 .Xim 
 
 xviii Introduction 
 
 night," the Prince passes out of the tavern world and the 
 door closes on his old life. It is in the scenes with his 
 father that his true character again asserts itself. The 
 fifth scene of the fourth act is the psychological climax of 
 the play, not brilliant and spectacular like that of The 
 First Part, not easily understood except in the light of 
 e whole action. With the third act begins the weaken- 
 ing of the King, passing through subtleties of gradation 
 that Shakespeare well knew how to suggest ; restlessness, 
 irritability, explanatory and exculpating reminiscence, 
 brooding distrust of the future, sudden flashes of vigor 
 and firmness, until the broken and wearied body sinks 
 to sleep that is deathlike in its grimness. Then from the 
 cheerful, bustling outer world enters the Prince and is 
 left alone to keep his vigil beside that quiet figure and 
 the crown that has brought it low. In the spirit that is 
 to animate his reign the Prince assumes the crown, and 
 the King wakens to one last bitterness. Then comes 
 the swift, tragic revulsion from a lifetime of reserve, and 
 the pride of the Prince also melts in a flood of tenderness. 
 Yet even here the Prince does not reveal his innermost 
 self to his fathef ; there is deeper purpose and finer feeling" 
 in the soliloquy in which he assumes the crown (IV. v.' 
 21-47) than in his apology for his act (IV. v. 159-165). 
 
 It is in the light of this scene that the previous plays 
 must be read and that the future acts of the young King 
 must be judged. His scene with the Archbishop rings 
 true; at first one is not quite so sure about the speeches 
 with which he banishes Falstaff. Perhaps to modern 
 thinking there must remain a protest against the King's 
 
3|ntroBuctlon xix 
 
 moral address; that at least we and Falstaff might have 
 been spared; but the homiletic habit was a part of the 
 English drama, inherited alike from the early religious 
 plays and from Senecan tragedy; and no false shame or 
 fear of being adjudged hypocrites caused Shakespeare's 
 heroes to withhold their words of wisdom or of warning. 
 The epilogue suggests that Falstaff was to go with the 
 King's army to France; apparently Shakespeare did not 
 see until after the play was finished that the part of Fal- 
 staff was played out; the king had come to his own, and 
 in that realm he must reign alone. 
 
 The character of Falstaff defies analysis; we may; 
 admire and wonder, but we may not define. The nearest' 
 approach to satisfaction in that line was made by Maurice 
 Morgann hi the eighteenth century, and all that has been 
 done since seems but an echo. Yet while not attempting 
 to add to the countless characterizations of this consummate 
 creation, we may compare Falstaff of The Second Part with 
 Falstaff of The First Part. And here again we notice that we 
 are dealing with action that has passed its turning point. 
 Falstaff is indubitably grosser, more reprehensible ; some- 
 thing of his charm has vanished ; the glamour is less ; and 
 at times we see him in the pitiless light of fact. In the 
 early tavern scenes, the Prince alone could fully appreciate 
 Falstaff J s wit, and consequently the Prince alone could bring 
 it to full expression. Poins and Gadshill and Bardolph were 
 but the audience before whom these two acted their never- 
 flagging comedy. Keen, flexible, scintillating, the words 
 flashed and darted like rapiers in the hands of matched 
 combatants; and if the Prince was confessedly inferior, 
 
XX 
 
 ^Introduction 
 
 at least he made Falstaff play manfully to prove him so. 
 But by the exigency of the situation the Prince is no longer 
 a whole-hearted participant in the tavern scenes of The 
 Second Part , and withdraws from them altogether at the close 
 of the second act. His place is taken by minor characters. 
 Pistol, with his ridiculous medley of misquotations, was 
 doubtless a more comic character to those who recognized 
 his allusions than to us who must laboriously get them up 
 from notes. Mistress Quickly is at her best in this play, 
 and sets a standard of loquacity and verbiage that has never 
 been surpassed. Doll Tearsheet, doubtless familiar 
 to most of the audience, is a direful piece of realism. 
 Falstaff is sent into the country to raise soldiers, and 
 there meets those two worthy justices, Shallow and Silence. 
 And now behold Sir John in a new role, urbane, patron- 
 izing, but condescending to familiarity; slightly bored 
 withal, and finding relief in those incomparable soliloquies 
 which go far toward raising the comedy of this play to the 
 level of that of The First Part. The portrait of Shallow 
 is astoundingly realistic; rural old age, narrow, fussy, 
 obsequious, full of distorted memories of former glory, 
 has never been more faithfully drawn. It is from these 
 scenes, droll to the very limits of Shakespeare's power, 
 but with no faintest connection with the main action of the 
 play, that Falstaff rushes back to London, exulting in 
 his own power, threatening " woe to my Lord Chief 
 Justice." Then the swift reversal, and the hoary old 
 sinner is hurried to the Fleet. A comedy conclusion, 
 if that were all; but later Shakespeare saw that there 
 was more in this story, and moved by something was 
 it dramatic insight, a feeling of aesthetic propriety, or was 
 
3|ntroDuetion 
 
 it a touch of the real love that so many since have felt 
 for Falstaff ? he wrote that marvelous description of 
 Falstaff 's death (Henry V. II. iii. 9-28), broad and almost 
 brutal in its comedy, but tender and pathetic, even tragic 
 in its essence, and above all true to life. And just as in 
 his death, so throughout the two parts of Henry TV, it 
 is truth to life that is the final effect that Falstaff produces 
 on us. Other comic characters have been humorous and 
 witty, others have been braggarts and cowards, others 
 have been absurd physically and dazzling intellectually, 
 but none of them all has lived as he has lived in the imagi- 
 nations of men for three hundred years. 
 
>econa part of 
 
 f en*? t^e 
 
 
[DRAMATIS PERSON/C] 
 
 RUMOUR, the Presenter. 
 
 KING HENRY IV. 
 
 HENRY, PRINCE [OF WALES], afterwards crowned King Henry V. 
 
 PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, ) 8ong to Henry IV an d brethren 
 
 [PRINCE] HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER, > to |j enry y. 
 
 THOMAS [DUKE] OF CLARENCE, 
 
 [EARL OF] NORTHUMBERLAND, 
 
 [SCROOP,] archbishop of York, 
 
 [LORD] MOWBRAY, 
 
 [LORD] HASTINGS, 
 
 LORD BARDOLPH, 
 
 TRAVERS, / retainers of North- 
 
 MORTON, I umberland, 
 
 [Sm JOHN] COLVILLE, 
 
 [EARL OF] WARWICK, 
 
 [EARL OF WESTMORELAND, | 
 
 [EARL OF] SURREY, 
 
 GOWER, 
 
 HARCOURT, 
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, 
 
 [Sm JOHN] FALSTAFF, ' 
 
 His PAGE, 
 
 POINS, 
 
 BARDOLPH, 
 
 PISTOL, 
 
 PETO, 
 
 opposites against King Henry IV. 
 
 \ of the King's Party. 
 
 irregular Humourists. 
 
 DAVY, servant to Shallow. 
 
 FANG and SNARE, two Sergeants. 
 
 MOULDY, ^ 
 
 SHADOW, 
 
 WART, t country soldiers. 
 
 FEEBLE, 
 
 BULLCALF, J 
 
 LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. 
 
 LADY PERCY. 
 
 QUICKLY, hostess [of a tavern in Eastcheap]. 
 
 DOLL TEARSHEET. 
 
 [Lords and attendants; Porter] Drawers, Beadles, Grooms [Servants, 
 etc. A Dancer as] Epilogue. 
 
 [SCENE: England.} 
 
Decent) part of 
 
 INDUCTION 
 
 \Warkworth. Before the castle.] 
 Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues. 
 
 Rum. Open your ears ; for which of you will stop 
 The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks ? 
 I, from the orient to the drooping west, 
 Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
 The acts commenced on this ball of earth. 5 
 
 Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, 
 The which hi every language I pronounce, 
 Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. 
 I speak of peace, while covert enmity 
 Under the smile of safety wounds the world ; 10 
 And who but Rumour, who but only I, 
 Make fearful musters and prepared defence, 
 Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, 
 Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, 
 3 
 
tty iFottrtl), put 3131 
 
 And no such matter ? Rumour is a pipe 15 
 
 Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, 
 And of so easy and so plain a stop 
 That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, 
 The still-discordant wav'ring multitude, 
 
 : ' ,Can play upon it. But what need I thus 20 
 
 ' My 'well-known body to anatomize 
 . Among my household ? Why is Rumour here ? 
 I run bfofe King Harry's victory, 
 Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury 
 Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, 
 Quenching the flame of bold rebellion 26 
 
 Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I 
 To speak so true at first ? My office is 
 To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell 
 Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, 30 
 And that the King before the Douglas' rage 
 Stoop' d his anointed head as low as death. 
 This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns 
 Between that royal field of Shrewsbury 
 And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, 35 
 
 Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, 
 Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on, 
 And not a man of them brings other news 
 Than they have learn'd of me. From Rumour's 
 tongues 39 
 
 They bring smooth comforts false, worse than 
 true wrongs. Exit. 
 
ACT I 
 
 SCENE I 
 [The same.] 
 
 Enter Lard Bardolph at one door. 
 L. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho ? 
 
 \The Porter opens the gate.] 
 
 Where is the Earl ? 
 Port. What shall I say you are ? 
 L. Bard. Tell thou the Earl 
 
 That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. 
 Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard. 
 
 Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, 5 
 
 And he himself will answer. 
 
 Enter Northumberland. 
 
 L. Bard. Here comes the Earl. 
 
 [Exit Porter.] 
 North. What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute 
 
 now 
 
 Should be the father of some stratagem. 
 The times are wild ; contention, like a horse 
 Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose 10 
 And bears down all before him. 
 5 
 
J|?mr? tljr 3Fourt^ part 3131 Act i 
 
 Noble Earl, 
 I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. 
 
 North. Good, an God will ! 
 
 L. Bard. As good as heart can wish. 
 
 The King is almost wounded to the death ; 
 And, in the fortune of my lord your son, 15 
 
 Prince Harry slain outright ; and both the Blunts 
 KilTd by the hand of Douglas ; young Prince John 
 And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field ; 
 And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir 
 
 John, 
 
 Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day, ' 20 
 
 So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won, 
 Came not till now to dignify the times, 
 Since Caesar's fortunes ! 
 
 North. How is this deriv'd ? 
 
 Saw you the field ? Came you from Shrewsbury ? 
 
 L. Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from 
 thence, 25 
 
 A gentleman well bred and of good name, 
 That freely rend'red me these news for true. 
 
 North. Here comes my servant Travers, who I sent 
 On Tuesday last to listen after news. 
 
 Enter Travers. 
 
 L. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way ; 80 
 And he is furnish' d with no certainties 
 More than he haply may retail from me. 
 
Sc. i tytnw tlje jfourt^ put 313] 7 
 
 North. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with 
 you? 
 
 Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back 
 
 With joyful tidings ; and, being better hors'd, 35 
 Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard 
 A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, 
 That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. 
 He ask'd the way to Chester ; and of him 
 I did demand what news from Shrewsbury. 40 
 He told me that rebellion had bad luck, 
 And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. 
 With that, he gave his able horse the head, 
 And bending forward struck his armed heels 
 Against the panting sides of his poor jade 45 
 
 Up to the rowel-head, and starting so 
 He seem'd hi running to devour the way, 
 Staying no longer question. 
 
 North. Ha ! Again. 
 
 Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold ? 
 Of Hotspur Coldspur ? That rebellion 50 
 
 Had met ill luck ? 
 
 L. Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what : 
 
 If my young lord your son have not the day, 
 Upon mine honour, for a silken point 
 I'll give my barony. Never talk of it. 
 
 North. Why should that gentleman that rode by 
 Travers 55 
 
 Give then such instances of loss ? 
 
8 tymw tlje jfourrt), ^art 3131 Acti 
 
 L. Bard. Who, he ? 
 
 He was some hilding fellow that had stolen 
 The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, 
 Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. 
 
 Enter Morton. 
 
 North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 60 
 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume. 
 So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood 
 Hath left a witness'd usurpation. 
 Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury ? 
 
 Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord, 65 
 
 Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask 
 To fright our party. 
 
 North. How doth my son and brother ? 
 
 Thou tremblest ; and the whiteness in thy cheek 
 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
 Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 70 
 
 So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, 
 Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, 
 And would have told him half his Troy was burnt ; 
 But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, 
 And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. 75 
 This thou wouldst say, "Your son did thus and 
 
 thus ; 
 Your brother thus ; so fought the noble Doug- 
 
 las;" 
 Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds ; 
 
Sc. i tymri? fyt jfourtlj, ^art 313 
 
 But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, 
 
 Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, 80 
 
 Ending with "Brother, son, and all are dead." 
 
 Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother yet ; 
 But, for my lord your son, 
 
 North. Why, he is dead. 
 
 See what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! 
 He that but fears the thing he would not know 85 
 Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes 
 That what he fear'd is chanc'd. Yet speak, 
 
 Morton f 
 
 Tell thou an earl his divination lies, 
 And I will take it as a sweet disgrace 
 And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. 90 
 
 M or. You are too great to be by me gainsaid ; 
 Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. 
 
 North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. 
 I see a strange confession in thine eye. 
 Thou shak'st thy head and hold'st it fear or sin 95 
 To speak a truth. If he be slain, [say so ;] 
 The tongue offends not that reports his death ; 
 And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, 
 Not he which says the dead is not alive. 
 Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news 100 
 
 Hath but a losing office, and his tongue 
 Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 
 Rememb'red tolling a departing friend. 
 
 L. Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. 
 
io ^nirp t\)t jFourtij, jpatt 3131 Act i 
 
 Mor. I am sorry I should force you to believe 105 
 
 That which I would to God I had not seen ; 
 But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, 
 Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out- 
 
 breath'd, 
 To Harry Monmouth ; whose swift wrath beat 
 
 down 
 
 The never-daunted Percy to the earth, 110 
 
 From whence with life he never more sprung up. 
 In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire 
 Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, 
 Being bruited once, took fire and heat away 
 From the best-temper 'd courage in his troops ; 115 
 For from his metal was his party steel'd ; 
 Which once in him abated, all the rest 
 Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. 
 And as the thing that's heavy in itself, 
 Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, 120 
 So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, 
 Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear 
 That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim 
 Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, 
 Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worces- 
 ter 125 
 Too soon ta'en prisoner ; and that furious Scot, 
 The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword 
 Had three times slain the appearance of the King, 
 Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame 
 
sc. i tytmy t\)t jfourtlj, iparc 3131 n 
 
 Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, 
 Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all 131 
 Is that the King hath won, and hath sent out 
 A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, 
 Under the conduct of young Lancaster 
 And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. 135 
 North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn. 
 In poison there is physic ; and these news, 
 Having been well, that would have made me sick, 
 Being sick, have in some measure made me well. 
 And as the^wretch, whose fever-weak'ned joints, 
 Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, 141 
 Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire 
 Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, 
 Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'dwith grief, 
 Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou 
 
 nice crutch ! 145 
 
 A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel 
 Must glove this hand ; and hence, thou sickly 
 
 quoif ! 
 
 Thou art a guard too wanton for the head 
 Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. 
 Now bind my brows with iron ; and approach 150 
 The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring 
 To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland ! 
 Let heaven kiss earth ! Now let not Nature's 
 
 hand 
 Keep the wild flood confin'd ! Let order die ! 
 
t\)t jfourtij, part 3131 Act i 
 
 And let this world no longer be a stage 155 
 
 To feed contention in a lingering act ; 
 
 But let one spirit of the first-born Cain 
 
 Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set 
 
 On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, 
 
 And darkness be the burier of the dead ! 160 
 
 [Tra.] This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. 
 
 L. Bard. Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your 
 honour. 
 
 Mor. The lives of all your loving complices 
 
 Lean on your health ; the which, if you give o'er 
 To stormy passion, must perforce decay. 165 
 
 [You cast the event of war, my noble lord, 
 And summ'd the account of chance, before you 
 
 said, 
 
 "Let us make head." It was your presurmise, 
 That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop. 
 You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, 170 
 More likely to fall in than to get o'er ; 
 You were advis'd his flesh was capable 
 Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit 
 Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd ; 
 Yet did you say, "Go forth !" and none of this, 175 
 Though strongly apprehended, could restrain 
 The stiff-borne action. What hath then befallen, 
 Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, 
 More than that being which was like to be ?] 
 
 Z. Bard. We all that are engaged to this loss 180 
 
sc. i ^enn? t\)t jfourtl), part 3131 13 
 
 Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas 
 That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one ; 
 And yet we ventur'd, for the gain proposed 
 Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd ; 
 And since we are o'erset, venture again. 185 
 
 Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. 
 
 Mor. Tis more than time ; and, my most noble lord, 
 I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, 
 [The gentle Archbishop of York is up 
 With well-appointed powers. He is a man 190 
 Who with a double surety binds his followers. 
 My lord your son had only but the corpse, 
 But shadows and the shows of men, to fight ; 
 For that same word, rebellion, did divide 
 The action of their bodies from their souls ; 195 
 
 / And they did fight with queasiness, constrained, 
 As men drink potions, that their weapons only 
 Seem'd on our side ; but, for their spirits and 
 
 souls, 
 
 This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, 
 As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop 200 
 Turns insurrection to religion. 
 Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, 
 He's follow'd both with body and with mind ; 
 And doth enlarge his rising with the blood 
 Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret 
 stones ; 205 
 
 Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause ; 
 
14 tytnty tty jFourtlj, part 3(31 Act i 
 
 Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, 
 Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke ; 
 And more and less do flock to follow him.] 
 North. I knew of this before ; but, to speak truth, 210 
 This present grief had wip'd it from my mind. 
 Go in with me ; and counsel every man 
 The aptest way for safety and revenge. 
 Get posts and letters, and make friends with 
 
 speed, 
 
 Never so few, and never yet more need. 215 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 [London. A street.] 
 
 Enter Falstaff, with his Page bearing his sword and 
 buckler. 
 
 Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my 
 water ? 
 
 Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good 
 healthy water ; but, for the party that ow'd it, 
 he might have moe diseases than he knew for. 5 
 
 Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. 
 4 The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, 
 man, is not able to invent anything that in- 
 tends to laughter, more than I invent or is in- 
 vented on me. I am not only witty in myself, 10 
 but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here 
 
sc. ii tyenrs t\)t JFourtlj, part 3131 15 
 
 walk before thee like a sow that hath over- 
 whelm'd all her litter but one. If the Prince 
 put thee into my service for any other reason 
 than to set me off, why then I have no judge- 15 
 ment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art 
 fitter to be worn in my cap than to wait at my 
 heels. I was never rnann'd with an agate till 
 now ; but I will inset you neither in gold nor 
 silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back 20 
 again to your master, for a jewel, the Juve- 
 nal, the ^Prince your master, whose chin is not 
 yet fledg'd. I will sooner have a beard grow 
 in the palm of my hand than he shall get one 
 off his cheek ; and yet he will not stick to say 25 
 his face is a face royal. God may finish it 
 when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He 
 may keep it still at a face royal, for a barber 
 shall never earn sixpence out of it ; and yet 
 he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since 30 
 his father was a bachelor. He may keep his 
 own grace, but he's almost out of mine, I can 
 assure him. What said Master Dommelton 
 about the satin for my short cloak and my slops ? 
 
 Page. He said, sir, you should procure him 35 
 better assurance than Bardolph. He would 
 not take his band and yours. He lik'd not 
 the security. 
 
 Fed. Let him be damn'd like the glutton ! Pray 
 
16 tyniiT ti)t jFourtl), part 3131 Act I 
 
 God his tongue be hotter ! A whoreson 40 
 Achitophel ! a rascally yea-for-sooth knave ! 
 to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand 
 upon security ! The whoreson smooth-pates 
 do now wear nothing but high shoes, and 
 bunches of keys at their girdles ; and if a man 45 
 is through with them in honest taking up, 
 then they must stand upon security. I had as 
 lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as 
 offer to stop it with security. I look'd 'a 
 should have sent me two and twenty yards of 
 satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me 50 
 security. Well, he may sleep in security ; for 
 he hath the horn of abundance, and yet the 
 lightness of his wife shines through it ; and yet 
 cannot he see, though he have his own Ian- 
 thorn to light him. Where's Bardolph ? 55 
 
 Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your 
 worship a horse. 
 
 Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a 
 horse in Smithfield. An I could get me but 
 a wife in the stews, I were mann'd, hors'd, 60 
 and wiv'd. 
 
 Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Servant. 
 
 Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that com- 
 mitted the Prince for striking him about 
 Bardolph. 
 
Sc. ii J^enrp tije jfourttj, part 331 17 
 
 FaZ. Wait close ; I will not see him. 65 
 
 Ch. Just. What's he that goes there ? 
 
 Serv. Falstaff, an't please your lordship. 
 
 Ch. Just. He that was in question for the rob- 
 bery ? 
 
 Serv. He, my lord ; but he hath since done good 70 
 service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now 
 going with some charge to the Lord John of 
 Lancaster. 
 
 Ch.Just. What, to York? Call him back 
 
 again. 75 
 
 Serv. Sir John Falsrtaff ! 
 
 Fal. Boy, tell him I am deaf. 
 
 Page. You must speak louder ; my master is 
 deaf. 
 
 Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any- 80 
 thing good. Go, pluck him by the elbow ; I 
 must speak with him. 
 
 Serv. Sir John ! 
 
 Fal. What ! a young knave, and begging ! Is 
 
 there not wars ? Is there not employment ? 85 
 Doth not the King lack subjects ? Do not the 
 rebels need soldiers ? Though it be a shame to 
 be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg 
 than to be on the worst side, were it worse than 
 the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. 90 
 
 Serv. You mistake me, sir. 
 
 Fal. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man ? 
 c 
 
is J?enry t\)t jfourt^ part 3131 Act i 
 
 Setting my knighthood and my soldiership 
 aside, I had lied in my throat, if I had said so. 
 
 Serv. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood 95 
 and your soldiership aside ; and give me leave 
 to tell you you lie in your throat if you say I 
 am any other than an honest man. 
 
 Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so ! I lay aside 
 
 that which grows to me ! If thou get'st any 100 
 leave of me, hang me ; if thou tak'st leave, 
 thou wert better be hang'd. You hunt 
 counter ; hence ! avaunt ! 
 
 Serv. Sir, my lord would speak with you. 
 
 Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. 105 
 
 Fal. My good lord ! God give your lordship good 
 time of day. I am glad to see your lordship 
 abroad. I heard say your lordship was sick ; 
 I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. 
 Your lordship, though not clean past your 110 
 youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, 
 some relish of the saltness of time in you ; and 
 I most humbly beseech your lordship to have 
 a reverent care of your health. 
 
 Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expe- 115 
 dition to Shrewsbury. 
 
 Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear his Maj- 
 esty is returned with some discomfort from 
 Wales. 
 
 Ch. Just. I talk not of his Majesty. You would 120 
 not come when I sent for you. 
 
Sc. ii ^enrp t\)t jfourtl), part 3|3f| 19 
 
 Fal. And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fallen 
 into this same whoreson apoplexy. 
 
 Ch. Just. Well, God mend him ! I pray you, let 
 
 me speak with you. 125 
 
 Fal. This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of 
 lethargy, an't please your lordship, a kind of 
 sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling. 
 
 Ch. Just. What tell you me of it ? Be it as it 
 
 is. 130 
 
 Fal. It hath it original from much grief, from 
 study^^tnd^ perturbation of the brain. I 
 have read the cause of his effects in Galen. It 
 is a kind of deafness. 
 
 Ch. Just. I think you are fallen into the disease ; 135 
 for you hear not what I say to you. 
 
 [FaL] Very well, my lord, very well. Rather, 
 an't please you, it is the disease of not listen- 
 ing, the malady of not marking, that I am 
 troubled withal. 140 
 
 Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels would amend 
 the attention of your ears ; and I care not if I 
 do become your physician. 
 
 Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so 
 
 patient. Your lordship may minister the 145 
 potion of imprisonment to me in respect of pov- 
 erty ; but how I should be your patient to follow 
 your prescriptions, the wise may make some 
 dram of a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. 
 
20 ^mr^ tfje jFourtl), part 3131 Act i 
 
 C^. JwsJ. I sent for you, when there were matters 150 
 
 against you for your life, to come speak with me. 
 Fal. As I was then advis'd by my learned counsel 
 
 in the laws of this land-service, I did not 
 
 come. 
 Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in 155 
 
 great infamy. 
 Fal. He that buckles himself in my belt cannot 
 
 live in less. 
 Ch. Just. Your means is very slender, and your 
 
 waste is great. 160 
 
 Fal. I would it were otherwise ; I would my means 
 
 were greater, and my waist slenderer. 
 Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince. 
 Fal. The young prince hath misled me. I am 
 
 the fellow with the great belly, and he my 165 
 
 dog. 
 Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-heaPd 
 
 wound. Your day's service at Shrewsbury 
 
 hath a little gilded over your night's exploit 
 
 on Gadshill. You may thank the unquiet 170 
 
 time for your quiet o'er-posting that action. 
 Fal. My lord? 
 Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so. Wake 
 
 not a sleeping wolf. 
 
 Fal. To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox. 175 
 
 Ch. Just. What ! you are as a candle, the better 
 
 part burnt out. 
 
Sc. ii j?ntr tiie jFourtij, put 3131 21 
 
 Fal. A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow. If I 
 did say of wax, my growth would approve the 
 truth. 180 
 
 Ch. Just. There is not a white hair in your face 
 but should have his effect of gravity. 
 
 Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. 
 
 Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and 
 
 down, like his ill angel. 185 
 
 Fal. Not so, my lordT Your ill angel is light ; but 
 I hope he that looks upon me will take me 
 without weighing ; and yet, in some respects, 
 I grant, I cannot go. I cannot tell. Virtue 
 is of so little regard in these costermongers' 190 
 times that true Valour is turned bear-herd ; 
 Pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit 
 wasted in giving reckonings ; all the other 
 gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this 
 age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. 195 
 You that are old consider not the capacities of 
 us that are young ; you do measure the heat of 
 our livers with the bitterness of your galls ; 
 and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I 
 must confess, are wags too. 200 
 
 Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the scroll 
 of youth, that are written down old with all the 
 characters of age ? Have you not a moist eye, 
 a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a 
 decreasing leg, an increasing belly ? Is not 205 
 
tlje jfourtlj, ^art 3131 Act I 
 
 your voice broken, your wind short, your chin 
 double, your wit single, and every part about 
 you blasted with antiquity ? And will you yet 
 call yourself young ? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John ! 
 
 Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in 210 
 the afternoon, with a white head and something 
 a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it 
 with hallooing and singing of anthems. To 
 approve my youth further, I will not. The 
 truth is, I am only old in judgement and un- 
 derstanding ; and he that will caper with me 215 
 for a thousand marks, let him lend me the 
 money, and have at him ! For the box of the 
 ear that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a 
 rude prince, and you took it like a sensible 
 lord. I have check'd him for it, and the 220 
 young lion repents ; marry, not in ashes and 
 sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack. 
 
 Ch. Just. Well, God send the Prince a better 
 
 companion 
 
 Fal. God send the companion a better prince ! I 225 
 cannot rid my hands of him. 
 
 Ch. Just. Well, the King hath sever'd you [and 
 Prince Harry], I hear you are going with 
 Lord John of Lancaster against the Archbishop 
 and the Earl of Northumberland. 230 
 
 Fal. Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it, 
 But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady 
 Peace at home, that our armies join not in 
 
sc. H Hjenri? t\)t jFourtlj, part 3131 2 3 
 
 a hot day ; for, by the Lord, I take but two 
 shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat 235 
 extraordinarily. If it be a hot day, and I 
 brandish anything but a bottle, I would I might 
 never spit white again. There is not a dan- 
 gerous action can peep out his head but I am 
 thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever ; but it 240 
 was alway yet the trick of our English nation, 
 if they have a good thing, to make it too com- 
 mon. If ye will needs say I am an old man, you 
 should |jive me rest. I would to God my name 
 were not so terrible to the enemy as it is . I were 245 
 better to be eaten to death with a rust than 
 to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. 
 
 Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest ; and God 
 bless your expedition ! 
 
 Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound 250 
 to furnish me forth ? 
 
 Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny ; you are too 
 impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well ! 
 Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland. 
 
 [Exeunt Chief Justice and Servant.] 
 
 Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. 255 
 A man can no more separate age and covetous- 
 ness than 'a can part young limbs and lechery ; 
 but the gout galls the one, and the pox 
 pinches the other, and so both the degrees 
 prevent my curses. Boy ! 260 
 
24 tyenri? tfce jfourt^ part 3131 Act i 
 
 Page. Sir? 
 
 Fal. What money is in my purse ? 
 
 Page. Seven groats and two pence. 
 
 Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption 
 
 of the purse. Borrowing only lingers and 265 
 lingers it out, but the disease is incurable. 
 Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster ; 
 this to the Prince ; this to the Earl of West- 
 moreland ; and this to old Mistress Ursula, 
 whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I 270 
 perceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. 
 About it. You know where to find me. [Exit 
 Page.] A pox of this gout ! or, a gout of this 
 pox ! for the one or the other plays the rogue 
 with my great toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt ; 275 
 I have the* wars for my colour, and my pension 
 shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit 
 will make use of anything. I will turn dis- 
 eases to commodity. Exit. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 [York. The Archbishop's palace.] 
 
 Enter the Archbishop, the Lords Hastings, Mowbray, 
 and Bardolph. 
 
 Arch. Thus have you heard our cause and known 
 
 our means ; 
 And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, 
 
sc. HI ^enn? tlje jfourtl), ypm 3131 25 
 
 Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes. 
 And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it ? 
 
 Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms ; 5 
 
 But gladly would be better satisfied 
 How hi our means we should advance ourselves 
 To look with forehead bold and big enough 
 Upon the power and puissance of the King. 
 
 Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file 10 
 
 To five and twenty thousand men of choice ; 
 And our supplies live largely in the hope 
 Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns 
 With an incensed fire of injuries. 
 
 L. Bard. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth 
 thus : 15 
 
 Whether our present five and twenty thousand 
 May hold up head without Northumberland ? 
 
 Hast. With him, we may. 
 
 L. Bard. Yea, marry, there's the point ! 
 
 But if without him we be thought too feeble, 
 My judgement is, we should not step too far 20 
 [Till we had his assistance by the hand ; 
 For, hi a theme so bloody-fac'd as this, 
 Conjecture, expectation, and surmise 
 Of aids incertain should not be admitted]. 
 
 Arch. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph ; for indeed 25 
 It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. 
 
 X. Bard. It was, my lord ; who lin'd himself with 
 hope, 
 
26 8?enr t\)t IFourti), |part 313 Act i 
 
 Eating the air, and promise of supply, 
 Flatt'ring himself in project of a power 
 Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts ; 
 And so, with great imagination 31 
 
 Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, 
 And winking leap'd into destruction. 
 
 East. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt 
 
 To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. 35 
 
 L. Bard. [Yes, if this present quality of war 
 
 Needed the instant action. A cause on foot 
 
 Lives so in hope as in an early spring 
 
 We see the appearing buds, which to prove 
 
 fruit 
 
 Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair 40 
 That frosts will bite them. When we mean to 
 
 build, 
 
 We first survey the plot, then draw the model ; 
 And when we see the .figure of the house, 
 Then must we rate the cost of the erection ; 
 Which if we find outweighs ability, 45 
 
 What do we then but draw anew the model 
 In fewer offices, or at least desist 
 To build at all ? Much more, in this great work, 
 Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down 
 And set another up, should we survey 50 
 
 The plot of situation and the model, 
 Consent upon a sure foundation, 
 Question surveyors, know our own estate, 
 
Sc. HI j?enn? tije jfourt^ part 3131 27 
 
 How able such a work to undergo, 
 
 To weigh against his opposite ; or else] 55 
 
 We fortify in paper and in figures, 
 
 Using the names of men instead of men ; 
 
 Like one that draws the model of a house 
 
 Beyond his power to build it; who, half 
 
 through, 
 
 Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost 60 
 A naked subject to the weeping clouds 
 And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. 
 
 Hast. Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, 
 Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd 
 The utmost man of expectation, 65 
 
 I think we are a body strong enough, 
 Even as we are, to equal with the King. 
 
 L. Bard. What, is the King but five and twenty 
 thousand ? 
 
 Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bar- 
 
 dolph. 
 
 For his divisions, as the times do brawl, 70 
 
 Are in three heads : one power against the 
 
 French, 
 
 And one against Glendower ; perforce a third 
 Must take up us. So is the unfirm King 
 In three divided ; and his coffers sound 
 With hollow poverty and emptiness. 75 
 
 Arch. That he should draw his several strengths 
 together 
 
28 s?enn? tf)t Ifourt^ ^art 313] Act i 
 
 And come against us in full puissance, 
 
 Need not to be dreaded. 
 Hast. If he should do so, 
 
 To French and Welsh he leaves his back un- 
 arm'd, 
 
 They baying him at the heels. Never fear that. 
 L. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces 
 hither ? 81 
 
 Hast . The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland ; 
 
 Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Mon- 
 mouth ; 
 
 But who is substituted 'gainst the French, 
 
 I have no certain notice. 
 [Arch. Let us on, 85 
 
 And publish the occasion of our arms. 
 
 The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; 
 
 Their over-greedy love hath surfeited. 
 
 An habitation giddy and unsure 
 
 Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. 90 
 
 O thou fond many, with what loud applause 
 
 Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Boling- 
 broke, 
 
 Before he was what thou wouldst have him be ! 
 
 And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, 
 
 Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, 95 
 
 That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. 
 
 So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge 
 
 Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; 
 
sc. in jjenn? tlje jFourtt), part 3131 29 
 
 And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, 
 And howPst to find it. What trust is in these 
 
 times ? 100 
 
 They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him 
 
 die, 
 
 Are now become enamour'd on his grave. 
 Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head 
 When through proud London he came sighing on 
 After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, 105 
 
 Cri'st now, "O earth, yield us that king again, 
 And take thou this!" O thoughts of men ac- 
 
 curs'd ! 
 Past and to come seems best; things present 
 
 worst.] 
 Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers and set 
 
 on ? 109 
 
 Hast. We are Time's subjects, and Time bids be 
 
 gone. Exeunt. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 SCENE I 
 [London. A street.] 
 
 Enter Hostess, Fang [and his Boy with her,} and Snare 
 following. 
 
 Host. Master Fang, have you ent'red the ac- 
 tion ? 
 
 Fang. It is ent'red. 
 
 Host. Where's your yeoman ? Is't a lusty yeo- 
 man ? Will 'a stand to't ? 5 
 
 Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare ? 
 
 Host. O Lord, ay ! good Master Snare. 
 
 Snare. Here, here. 
 
 Fang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. 
 
 Host. Yea, good Master Snare; I have ent'red 10 
 him and all. 
 
 Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, 
 for he will stab. 
 
 Host. Alas the day ! take heed of him. He 
 
 stabb'd me in mine own house, [and that] most 15 
 beastly. In good faith, 'a cares not what mis- 
 chief he does, if his weapon be out. He will 
 foin like any devil ; he will spare neither man, 
 woman, nor child. 
 
 30 
 
sc. i j?enn? tije jFourtij, put 331 31 
 
 Fang. If I^can^close with him, I care not for 20 
 his thrust. 
 
 Host. No, nor I neither. I'll be at your elbow. 
 
 Fang. An I but fist him once ; an 'a come but 
 within my vice, 
 
 Host. I am undone by his going ; I warrant you, 25 
 he's an infinitive thing upon my score. Good 
 Master Fang, hold him sure. Good Master 
 Snare, let him not scape. 'A comes continu- 
 antly to Pie-corner saving your manhoods 
 to buy a saddle ; and he is indited to dinner 30 
 to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to 
 Master Smooth's the silk-man. I pray you, 
 since my exion is ent'red and my case so openly 
 known to the world, let him be brought hi to 
 his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for 35 
 a poor lone woman to bear ; and I have borne, 
 and borne, and borne, and have been fubb'd 
 off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, from this 
 day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought 
 on. There is no honesty in such dealing ; un- 
 less a woman should be made an ass and a 40 
 beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he 
 comes ; and that arrant malmsey -nose knave, 
 Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do ydur 
 offices, Master Fang and Master Snare ; cjo 
 me, do me, do me your offices. 45 
 
32 J^mrp tty jfourtijt ipart 3131 Act 11 
 
 Enter Falstqff, Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Fal. How now ! whose mare's dead ? What's the 
 
 matter ? 
 Fang. [Sir John,] I arrest you at the suit of Mistress 
 
 Quickly. 
 Fal. Away, varlets ! Draw, Bardolph ; cut me 50 
 
 off the villain's head. Throw the quean in 
 
 the channel. 
 Host. Throw me in the channel ! I'll throw 
 
 thee in the channel. Wilt thou ? wilt thou ? 
 
 thou bastardly rogue ! Murder, murder ! Ah, 55 
 
 thou honey-suckle villain ! wilt thou kill God's 
 
 officers and the King's ? Ah, thou honey-seed 
 
 rogue ! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, 
 
 and a woman-queller. 
 
 Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph. 60 
 
 Fang. A rescue ! a rescue ! 
 Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou 
 
 wo't, wo't thou ? thou wo't, wo't ta ? Do, 
 
 do, thou rogue ! do, thou hempseed ! 
 Page. Away, you scullion ! you rampallian ! you 65 
 
 fustilarian ! I'll tickle your catastrophe. 
 
 Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and his men. 
 
 Ch. Just. What is the matter? Keep the peace 
 here, ho ! 
 
Sc. i J?enn? tbe jfourtlj, part 3131 33 
 
 Host. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech 
 
 you, stand to me. 70 
 
 Ch. Just. How now, Sir John ! what, are you brawling 
 
 here ? 
 
 Doth this become your place, your time and busi- 
 ness ? 
 
 You should have been well on your way to York. 
 Stand from him, fellow; wherefore hang'st thou 
 upon him? 
 
 Host. O my most worshipful lord, an't please your 75 
 Grace, I an a poor widow of Eastcheap, and 
 he is arrested at my suit. 
 
 Ch. Just. For what sum? 
 
 Host. It is more than for some, my lord ; it is for 
 
 all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and 80 
 home ; he hath put all my substance into that 
 fat belly of his ; but I will have some of it out 
 again, or I will ride thee o' nights like the mare. 
 
 Fal. I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I 
 
 have any vantage of ground to get up. 85 
 
 Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir John ? Fie ! what 
 man of good temper would endure this tem- 
 pest of exclamation? Are you not asham'd 
 to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to 
 come by her own ? 90 
 
 Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? 
 
 Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself 
 and the money too. Thou didst swear to me 
 D 
 
 \ 
 
34 tyenrp tty jfourtk JjDart 3131 Act n 
 
 upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin 
 chamber, at the round table, by a seacoal fire, 
 upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the 95 
 Prince broke thy head for liking his father 
 to a singing-man of Windsor, thou didst swear 
 to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to 
 marry me and make me my lady thy wife. 
 Canst thou deny it? Did not good wife 100 
 Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and 
 call me gossip Quickly ? coming in to borrow a 
 mess of vinegar, telling us she had a good dish 
 of prawns ; whereby thou didst desire to eat 
 some; whereby I told thee they were ill for 105 
 a green wound ? And didst thou not, when she 
 was gone downstairs, desire me to be no more so 
 familiarity with such poor people, saying that 
 ere long they should call me madam? And 
 didst thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee 110 
 thirty shillings ? I put thee now to thy book- 
 oath. Deny it, if thou canst. 
 
 Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul ; and she 
 says up and down the town that her eldest 
 son is like you. She hath been in good case, 115 
 and the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. 
 But for these foolish officers, I beseech you I 
 may have redress against them. 
 
 Ch. Just. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted 
 
 with your manner of wrenching the true 120 
 
sc. i tycnn? tl>e jfourti), ipart 3131 35 
 
 cause the false way. It is not a confident 
 brow, nor the throng of words that come with 
 such more than impudent sauciness from you, 
 can thrust me from a level consideration. You 
 have, as it appears to me, practis'd upon the 125 
 easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made 
 her serve your uses both in purse and in person. 
 
 Host. Yea, in truth, my lord. 
 
 Ch. Just. Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you 
 
 owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done 130 
 with her. The one you may do with sterling 
 money, and the other with current repentance. 
 
 Fal. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap 
 without reply. You call honourable boldness 
 impudent sauciness ; if a man will make curtsy 135 
 and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, 
 my humble duty remembered, I will not be 
 your suitor. I say to you, I do desire deliver- 
 ance from these officers, being upon hasty 
 employment in the King's affairs. 140 
 
 Ch. Just. You speak as having power to do wrong ; 
 but answer in the effect of your reputation, 
 and satisfy the poor woman. 
 
 Fal. Come hither, hostess. 
 
 Enter Gower. 
 Ch. Just. Now, Master Gower, what news? 145 
 
fyt jfouttt), UDart 3131 Actn 
 
 The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales 
 Are near at hand. The rest the paper tells. 
 
 Fal. As I am a gentleman. 
 
 Host. Faith, you said so before. 
 
 Fal. As I am a gentleman. Come, no more 150 
 words of it. 
 
 Host. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I 
 must be fain to pawn both my plate and the 
 tapestry of my dining-chambers. 
 
 Fal. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and 155 
 for thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the 
 story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting 
 in water- work, is worth a thousand of these 
 bed-hangers and these fly-bitten tapestries. 
 Let it be ten pound, if thou canst. Come, an't 160 
 were not for thy humours, there's not a better 
 wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw 
 the action. Come, thou must not be in this 
 humour with me ; dost not know me ? Come, 
 come, I know thou wast set on to this. 165 
 
 Host. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty 
 nobles. I' faith, I am loath to pawn my 
 plate, so God save me, la ! 
 
 Fal. Let it alone ; I'll make other shift. You'll 
 
 be a fool still. 170 
 
 Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn 
 my gown. I hope you'll come to supper. 
 You'll pay me altogether ? 
 
Sc. i j?enri? tjie jfourtlj, ^art if|3| 37 
 
 Will I live ? [To Bardolph.] Go, with her, 
 
 with her; hook on, hook on. 175 
 
 Host. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you 
 
 at supper ? 
 Fal. No more words ; let's have her. 
 
 [Exeunt Hostess, Bardolpk, Officers, and Boy.] 
 Ch. Just. I have heard better news. 
 Fal. What's the news, my lord ? 180 
 
 Ch. Just. Where lay the King to-night? 
 Gow. At [Basingstoke], my lord. 
 Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well. What is the 
 
 news, my lord ? 
 
 Ch. Just. Come all his forces back? 185 
 
 Gow. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, 
 
 Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster. 
 
 Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. 
 Fal. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord ? 
 Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently. 190 
 
 Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. 
 Fal. My lord ! 
 
 Ch. Just. What's the matter ? 
 Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me 
 
 to dinner? 195 
 
 Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here; I 
 
 thank you, good Sir John. 
 Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being 
 
 you are to take soldiers up in counties as 
 
 you go. 200 
 
38 tytntv fyt jFouttl), part 3131 Actn 
 
 FaL Will you sup with me, Master Gower ? 
 Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these 
 
 manners, Sir John ? 
 Fa/. Master Gower, if they become me not, he 
 
 was a fool that taught them me. This is the 205 
 
 right fencing grace, my lord ; tap for tap, and 
 
 so part fair. 
 Ch. Just. Now the Lord lighten thee ! thou art 
 
 a great fool. Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 [London. Another street.] 
 Enter Prince Henry and Poins. 
 
 Prince. Before God, I am exceeding weary. 
 
 Poins. Is't come to that ? I had thought weari- 
 ness durst not have attach'd one of so high 
 blood. 
 
 Prince. Faith, it does me, though it discolours 5 
 the complexion of my greatness to acknowl- 
 edge it. Doth it not show vilely in me to 
 desire small beer ? 
 
 Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely stud- 
 ied as to remember so weak a composition. 10 
 
 Prince. Belike then my appetite was not princely 
 got, for, by my troth, I do now remember 
 the poor creature, small beer. But, indeed, 
 these humble considerations make me out 
 
sc. H s?enn? tlje jFourtlj, ^Dart 3131 39 
 
 of love with my greatness. What a disgrace 15 
 is it to me to remember thy name ! or to 
 know thyiace to-morrow ! or to take note how 
 many pair of silk stockings thou hast, viz., 
 these, and those that were thy peach-colour'd 
 ones ! or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, 20 
 as, one for superfluity, and another for use ! 
 But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better 
 than I ; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee 
 when thou keepest not racket there ; as thou 
 hast not done a great while, because the rest of 
 the low countries have [made a shift to] eat up 25 
 thy holland. And God knows, whether those 
 that bawl out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit 
 his kingdom : but the midwives say the children 
 are not in the fault ; whereupon the world in- 
 creases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened. 30 
 
 Pains. How ill it follows, after you have labour'd 
 so hard, you should talk so idlely ! Tell me, 
 how many good young princes would do so, their 
 fathers being so sick as yours at this time is ? 
 
 Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins ? 35 
 
 Pains. Yes, faith ; and let it be an excellent 
 good thing. 
 
 Prince. It shall serve among wits of no higher 
 breeding than thine. 
 
 Pains. Go to ; I stand the push of your one 40 
 thing that you will tell. 
 
40 S?enr2 tlje jFourtij, part 3l3f| Act n 
 
 Prince. Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that 
 I should be sad, now my father is sick ; albeit 
 I could tell to thee, as to one it pleases me, for 
 fault of a better, to call my friend, I could be 45 
 sad, and sad indeed too. 
 
 Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject. 
 
 Prince. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in 
 the devil's book as thou and Falstaff for ob- 
 duracy and persistency. Let the end try the 50 
 man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly 
 that my father is so sick ; and keeping such 
 vile company as thou art hath in reason taken 
 " from me all ostentation of sorrow. 
 
 Poins. The reason ? 55 
 
 Prince. What wouldst thou think of me, if I 
 should weep ? 
 
 Poins. I would think thee a most princely 
 hypocrite. 
 
 Prince. It would be every man's thought ; and 60 
 thou art a blessed fellow to think as every 
 man thinks. Never a man's thought in the 
 world keeps the road-way better than thine. 
 Every man would think me an hypocrite in- 
 deed. And what accites your most worshipful 65 
 thought to think so ? 
 
 Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd and 
 so much engraffed to Falstaff. 
 
 Prince. And to thee. 
 
sc. ii tymw tty ^Fourtlj, part 3131 41 
 
 Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on ; I can 
 
 hear it with mine own ears. The worst 70 
 that they can say of me is that I am a second 
 brother and that I am a proper fellow of my 
 hands ; and those two things, I confess, I can- 
 not help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. 
 
 Enter Bardolph and Page. 
 
 Prince. And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A 75 
 had him from me Christian; and look, if 
 the fat villain have not transform'd him ape. 
 
 Bard. God save your Grace ! 
 
 Prince. And yours, most noble Bardolph ! 
 
 Poins. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, 80 
 must you be blusning ? Wherefore blush 
 you now ? What a maidenly man-at-arms are 
 you become ! Is't such a matter to get a 
 pot'tle-pot's maidenhead ? 
 
 Page. 'A calls me e'en now, my lord, through a 85 
 red lattice, and I could discern no part of his 
 face fromAhe window. At last I spied his eyes, 
 and methought he had made two holes in the 
 ale-wife's [new] petticoat and so peep'd through. 
 
 Prince.. Has not the boy profited ? 90 
 
 Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, 
 away ! 
 
 Page. Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, 
 away ! 
 
42 Jntn? tty jFourtlj, ^art 3131 Act n 
 
 Prince. Instruct us, boy ; what dream, boy ? 95 
 
 Page. Marry, my lord, Althaea dream'd she was 
 delivered of a fire-brand ; and therefore I call 
 him her dream. 
 
 Prince. A crown's worth of good interpretation. 
 
 There 'tis, boy. 100 
 
 Pains. O, that this [good] blossom could be kept 
 from cankers ! Well, there is sixpence to 
 preserve thee. 
 
 Bard. An you do not make him hang'd among 
 
 you, the gallows shall have wrong. 105 
 
 Prince. And how doth thy master, Bardolph ? 
 
 Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your Grace's 
 coming to town. There's a letter for you. 
 
 Pains. Deliver'd with good respect. And how 
 
 doth the martlemas, your master ? 110 
 
 Bard. In bodily health, sir. 
 
 Pains. Marry, the immortal part needs a physi- 
 cian ; but that moves not him. Though that 
 be sick, it dies not. 
 
 Prince. I do allow this wen to be as familiar 115 
 with me as my dog, and he holds his place, 
 for look you how he writes. 
 
 Pains. [Reads.] "John Falstaff, knight," every 
 man must know that, as oft as he has oc- 
 casion to name himself ; even like those that 120 
 are kin to the King, for they never prick their 
 finger but they say, "There's some of th 
 
sc. ii tytmy fye 5Fourt&, part 3131 43 
 
 King's blood spilt." "How comes that?" 
 says he, that takes upon him not to conceive. 
 The answer is as ready as a borrower's cap, 125 
 " I am the King's poor cousin, sir." , 
 
 Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will 
 fetch it from Japhet. But the letter : 
 
 "Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of 
 the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of 130 
 Wales, greeting." 
 Pains. Why, this is a certificate. 
 Prince. Peace ! 
 
 "I will imitate the honourable Romans in 
 brevity." 135 
 
 Poins. He sure means brevity in breath, short- 
 winded. 
 
 [Prince.] "I commend me to thee, I commend 
 thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar 
 with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so 
 much, that he swears thou art to marry his 
 sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou may- 140 
 est; and so, farewell. 
 
 "Thine, by yea and no, which is as much 
 as to say, as thou usest him, JACK 
 FALSTAFF with my familiars, JOHN 
 with my brothers and sisters, and 145 
 SIR JOHN with all Europe." 
 
 Poins. My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and 
 make him eat it. 
 
44 tytnvg tip JFotmt), ;prt 3131 Act 11 
 
 Prince. That's to make him eat twenty of his 
 
 words. But do you use me thus, Ned? 150 
 Must I marry your sister ? 
 
 Pains. God send the wench no worse fortune ! 
 But I never said so. 
 
 Prince. Well, thus we play the fools with the 
 
 time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the 155 
 clouds and mock us. Is your master here in 
 London ? 
 
 Bard. Yea, my lord. 
 
 Prince. Where sups he? Doth the old boar 
 
 feed in the old frank ? 160 
 
 Bard. At the old place, my lord, in East- 
 cheap. 
 
 Prince. What company ? 
 
 Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. 
 
 Prince. Sup any women with him ? 165 
 
 Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly 
 and Mistress Doll Tearsheet. 
 
 Prince. What pagan may that be ? 
 
 Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kins- 
 woman of my master's. 170 
 
 Prince. Even such kin as the parish heifers are 
 to the town bull. Shall we steal upon them, 
 Ned, at supper? 
 
 Poins. I am your shadow, my lord ; I'll follow 
 
 you. 175 
 
 Prince. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word 
 
sc. ii s?mn? tlje jfourti), part 3131 45 
 
 to your master that I am yet come to town. 
 
 There's for your silence. 
 Bard. I haye^ie tongue, sir. 
 
 Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it. 180 
 
 Prince. Fare you well; go. [Exeunt Bardolph 
 
 and Page.] This Doll Tearsheet should be 
 
 some road. 
 Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way 
 
 between Saint Alban's and London. 185 
 
 Prince. How might we see Falstaff bestow him- 
 
 self to-night in his true colours, and not our- 
 
 selves be seen ? 
 Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins and 
 
 aprons, and wait upon him at his table as 190 
 
 drawers. 
 Prince. From a God to a bull ? a heavy descen- 
 
 sion ! It was Jove's case. From a prince to 
 
 a prentice ? a low transformation ! That shall 
 
 be mine; for in everything the purpose must 195 
 
 weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 SCENE III 
 
 [Warkworth. Before the castle.] 
 
 Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and 
 Lady Percy. 
 
 North. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, 
 Give even way unto my rough affairs; 
 
46 tyntn? fyt jfourt^ part 331 Act n 
 
 Put not you on the visage of the times 
 And be like them to Percy troublesome. 
 Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no 
 
 more. 5 
 
 Do what you will ; your wisdom be your guide. 
 / North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn ; 
 And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. 
 Eady P. O yet, for God's sake, go not to these 
 
 wars ! 
 The time was, father, that you broke your 
 
 word, 10 
 
 When you were more endear'd to it than now; 
 When your own Percy, when my heart's dear 
 
 Harry, 
 
 Threw many a northward look to see his father 
 Bring up his powers ; but he did long in vain. 
 Who then persuaded you to stay at home ? 15 
 There were two honours lost, yours and your 
 
 son's. 
 
 For yours, the God of heaven brighten it ! 
 For his, it stuck upon him as the sun 
 In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light 
 Did all the chivalry of England move 20 
 
 To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass 
 Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. 
 [He had no legs, that practis'd not his gait ; 
 And speaking thick, which nature made his 
 
 blemish, 
 
sc. HI s?enn? t&e 5Fourtlj, put 301 47 
 
 Became the accents of the valiant ; 25 
 
 For those that could speak low and tardily 
 Woulo^ turnr their own perfection to abuse, 
 To seem like him; so that in speech, in gait, 
 In diet, in affections of delight, 
 In military rules, humours of blood, 30 
 
 He was the mark and glass, copy and book, 
 That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him ! 
 O miracle of men ! him did you leave, 
 Second to none, unseconded by you, 
 To look upon the hideous god of war 35 
 
 In disadvantage ; to abide a field 
 Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name 
 Did seem defensible : so you left him. 
 Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong 
 To hold your honour more precise and nice 40 
 With others than with him ! Let them alone. 
 The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong. 
 Had my sweet Harry had but half their num- 
 bers, 
 
 To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, 
 Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.] 
 North. Beshrew your heart, 
 
 Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me 46 
 With new lamenting ancient oversights. 
 But I must go and meet with danger there, 
 Or it will seek me in another place 
 And find me worse provided. 
 
48 tyrnrg tfce jfourtlj, |part 3131 Act 11 
 
 Lady N. O, fly to Scotland, 
 
 Till that the nobles and the armed commons 51 
 Have of their puissance made a little taste. 
 
 Lady P. If they get ground and vantage of the King, 
 Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, 
 To make strength stronger ; but, for all our loves, 55 
 First let them try themselves. So did your son ; 
 He was so suffered ; so came I a widow ; 
 And never shall have length of life enough 
 To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, 
 That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, 60 
 For recordation to my noble husband. 
 
 North. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind 
 As with the tide swelPd up unto his height, 
 That makes a still stand, running neither way. 
 Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop, 65 
 
 But many thousand reasons hold me back. 
 I will resolve for Scotland. There am I, 
 Till time and vantage crave my company. 
 
 Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 [London. The Boards-Head Tavern in Eastcheap.] 
 Enter two Drawers. 
 
 1. Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there ? 
 Apple- Johns ? Thou know'st Sir John can- 
 not endure an apple-John. 
 
sc. iv jjenrE rtje jfourtl), JjDart 3131 49 
 
 #. Z)raw. Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince 
 
 once set a dish of apple- Johns before- him, and 5 
 told him there were five more Sir Johns, and, 
 putting off his hat, said, " I will now take my 
 leave of these six dry, round, old, wither'd 
 knights." It ang'red him to the heart ; but 
 he hath forgot that. 10 
 
 1. Draw. Why, then, cover, and set them down; 
 
 and see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise. 
 Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some 
 music. Dispatch ! The room where they 
 supped is too hot ; they'll come in straight. 15 
 
 2. Draw. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Mas- 
 
 ter Poins anon, and they will put on two of 
 our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John must 
 not know of it. Bardolph hath brought 
 word. 20 
 
 1. Draw. By the mass, here will be old utis ; it will 
 
 be an excellent stratagem. 
 
 2. Draw. I'll see if I can find out Sneak. Exit. 
 
 Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet. 
 
 Host. F faith, sweetheart, methinks now you 
 
 are in an excellent good temperality. Your 25 
 pulsidge beats as extraordiaarily as heart 
 would desire ; and your colour, I warrant you, 
 is as red as any rose, in good truth, la ! But, i' 
 faith, you have drunk too much canaries ; and 
 
 E , 
 
50 tymw t\)t jFourtl), part 3131 Act n 
 
 that's a marvellous searching wine, and it per- 30 
 
 fumes the blood ere one can say, "What's 
 
 this ? " How do you now ? 
 Dol. Better than I was. Hem ! 
 Host. Why, that's well said ; a good heart's worth 
 
 gold. Lo, here comes Sir John. 35 
 
 Enter Falstqff. 
 
 Fal [Singing.] "When Arthur first in court" 
 
 Empty the Jordan. [Exit 1. Drawer.] 
 
 [Singing.] "And was a worthy king." 
 How now, Mistress Doll ! 
 
 Host. Sick of a calm ; yea, good faith. 40 
 
 Fal. So is all her sect ; an they be once in a calm, 
 
 they are sick. , 
 
 Dol. A pox damn you, you muddy rascal, is that 
 
 all the comfort you give me ? 
 
 Fal. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. 45 
 
 Dol. I make them ? Gluttony and diseases make 
 
 them ; I make them not. 
 Fal. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you 
 
 help to make the diseases, Doll. We catch of 
 
 you, Doll, we catch of you. Grant that, my 50 
 
 poor virtue, grant that. 
 Dol. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels. 
 Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and ouches. For 
 
 to serve bravely is to come halting off, you 
 
sc. iv j?enn? tlje jFourt^ JjDart 3131 51 
 
 know ; to come off the breach with his pike 55 
 bent bravely, and to surgery bravely ; to ven- 
 ture upon the charg'd chambers bravely, 
 
 DoL Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang 
 yourself ! 
 
 Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you 60 
 two never meet but you fall to some discord. 
 You are both, i' good truth, as rheumatic as 
 two dry toasts ; you cannot one bear with an- 
 other's confirmities. What the good-year ! one 
 must bear, and that must be you ; you are the 65 
 weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel. 
 
 DoL Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge 
 full hogshead? There's a whole merchant's 
 venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him ; you have 
 not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. 70 
 Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack. Thou 
 art going to the wars ; and whether I shall 
 ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares. 
 
 Re-enter [First] Drawer. 
 
 [1.] Draw. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below, and would 
 
 speak with you. 75 
 
 DoL Hang him, swaggering rascal ! let him not 
 come hither. It is the foul-mouth'd'st rogue 
 in England. 
 
 Host . If he swagger, let him not come here ; no, 
 
53 t^enr^ tty jfourtlj, part 3131 Actn 
 
 by my faith. I must live among my neigh- 80 
 bours ; I'll no swaggerers. I am in good name 
 and fame with the very best. Shut the door ; 
 there comes no swaggerers here. I have not 
 liv'd all this while, to have swaggering now. 
 Shut the door, I pray you. 85 
 
 Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess ? 
 
 Host. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John. There 
 comes no swaggerers here. 
 
 Fal. Dost thou hear ? It is mine ancient. 
 
 Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me ; and 90 
 your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. 
 I was before Master Tisick, the debuty, t' 
 other day ; and, as he said to me, 'twas no 
 longer ago than Wednesday last, " I' good faith, 
 neighbour Quickly," says he ; Master Dumbe, 95 
 our minister, was by then; "neighbour 
 Quickly," says he, "receive those that are civil ; 
 for," said he, "you are man ill name." Now 
 'a said so, I can tell whereupon ; "for," says he, 
 "you are an honest woman, and well thought on ; 100 
 therefore take heed what guests you receive. 
 Receive," says he, "no swaggering compan- 
 ions." There comes none here. You would bless 
 you to hear what he said. No, I'll no swaggerers. 
 
 Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess ; a tame cheater, 105 
 i' faith ; you may stroke him as gently as a 
 puppy greyhound. He'll not swagger with a 
 
Sc. iv J?mn? tlje jfourtl), pnt 331 53 
 
 Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any 
 show of resistance. Call him up, drawer. 
 
 [Exit 1. Drawer.] 
 
 Host. Cheater, call you him ? I will bar no honest 110 
 man my house, nor no cheater ; but I do not 
 love swaggering, by my troth. I am the 
 worse, when one says swagger. Feel, masters, 
 how I shake ; look you, I warrant you. 
 Del. So you do, hostess. 115 
 
 Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 
 'twere an aspen leaf. I cannot abide swag- 
 gerers. 
 
 Enter Pistol, Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Pist. God save you, Sir John ! 
 
 Fal. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I 120 
 
 charge you with a cup of sack ; do you dis- 
 
 charge upon mine hostess. 
 Pist. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two 
 
 bullets. 
 Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir ; you shall hardly 125 
 
 offend her. 
 Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. 
 
 I'll drink no more than will do me good, for 
 
 no man's pleasure, I. 
 Pist. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy ; I will charge 130 
 
 you. 
 Dol. Charge me ! I scorn you, scurvy companion. 
 
54 ^enn? tije jfourtlj, put 33 Act 11 
 
 What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, 
 lack-linen mate ! Away, you mouldy rogue, 
 away ! I am meat for your master. 135 
 
 Pist. I know you, Mistress Dorothy. 
 
 Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal ! you filthy 
 bung, away ! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife 
 in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy 
 cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal ! 140 
 you basket-hilt stale juggler, you ! Since 
 when, I pray you, sir? God's light, with 
 two points on your shoulder ? Much ! 
 
 Pist. God let me not live, but I will murder your 
 
 ruff for this. 145 
 
 Fal. No more, Pistol ; I would not have you go 
 off here. Discharge yourself of our company, 
 Pistol. 
 
 Host. No, good Captain Pistol ; not here, sweet 
 
 captain. 150 
 
 Dol. Captain ! thou abominable damn'd cheater, 
 art thou not asham'd to be call'd captain ? 
 An captains were of my mind, they would 
 truncheon you out, for taking their names upon 
 you before you have earn'd them. You a 155 
 captain ! you slave, for what ? For tearing 
 a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house ? He a 
 captain ! Hang him, rogue ! he lives upon 
 mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A cap- 
 tain ! God's light, these villains will make 160 
 
sc. iv tytnty tlje JFourtlj, JDart 3131 55 
 
 the word as odious as the word "occupy" ; 
 which was an excellent good word before it was 
 ill sorted ; therefore captains had need look to't. 
 
 Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. 
 
 Fal. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll. 165 
 
 Pist. Not I. I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, 
 I could tear her. I'll be reveng'd of her. 
 
 Page. Pray thee, go down. 
 
 Pist. I'll see her damn'd first ; to Pluto's damn'd 
 
 lake, by this hand, to the infernal deep, 170 
 with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook 
 and line, say I. Down, down, dogs ! down, 
 faitors ! Have we not Hiren here ? 
 
 Host. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet ; 'tis very 
 
 late, i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate 175 
 your choler. 
 
 Pist. These be good humours, indeed ! Shall pack- 
 horses 
 
 And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, 
 Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day, 
 Compare with Caesars and with Cannibals 180 
 And Troian Greeks ? Nay, rather damn them with 
 King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar. 
 Shall we fall foul for toys ? 
 
 Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter 
 
 words. 185 
 
 Bard. Be gone, good ancient. This will grow to 
 a brawl anon. 
 
s<> tyenrs tlje jFourrt), ^art 3131 Act 11 
 
 Pist. [Die] men like dogs ! Give crowns like pins ! 
 
 Have we not Hiren here ? 
 Host. O' my word, captain, there's none such here. 190 
 
 What the good-year ! do you think I would 
 
 deny her ? For God's sake, be quiet. 
 Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. 
 
 Come, give 's some sack. 
 
 "Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento." 195 
 
 Fear we broadsides ? No, let the fiend give fire. 
 
 Give me some sack ; and, sweetheart, lie thou 
 there. [Laying down his sword.] 
 
 Come we to full points here ; and are etceteras 
 
 nothing ? 
 
 Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. 
 Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What ! we 200 
 
 have seen the seven stars. 
 Dol. For God's sake, thrust him downstairs. I 
 
 cannot endure such a fustian rascal. 
 Pist. Thrust him downstairs ! Know we not Gal- 
 loway nags ? 205 
 Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat 
 
 shilling. Nay, an 'a do nothing but speak 
 
 nothing, 'a shall be nothing here. 
 Bard. Come, get you downstairs. 
 Pist. What ! shall we have incision ? Shall we im- 
 brue ? [Snatching up his sword.] 
 
 Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful 
 days ! 211 
 
Sc. iv j?enrE tty jFourtij, part 33 57 
 
 Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds 
 Untwine the Sisters Three ! Come, Atropos, I 
 say \ 
 
 Host. Here's goodly stuff toward ! 
 
 Fal. Give me my rapier, boy. 215 
 
 Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not 
 draw. 
 
 Fal. Get you downstairs. 
 
 [Drawing, and driving Pistol out.] 
 
 Host. Here's a goodly tumult ! I'll forswear keep- 
 ing house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and 220 
 frights. So ; murder, I warrant now. Alas, 
 alas ! put up your naked weapons, put up your 
 naked weapons. [Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph.] 
 
 Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet ; the rascal's gone. 
 
 Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, 225 
 you! 
 
 Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin ? Methought 
 'a made a shrewd thrust at your belly. 
 
 [Re-enter Bardolph.] 
 
 Fal. Have you turn'd him out o' doors ? 
 
 Bard. Yea, sir ; the rascal's drunk. You have 230 
 hurt him, sir, i' the shoulder. 
 
 Fal. A rascal ! to brave me ! 
 
 Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you ! Alas, poor 
 ape, how thou sweat'st ! Come, let me wipe 
 thy face. Come on, you whoreson chops. 235 
 
s8 jntn? t\)t jfourttj, JDart 3131 Act n 
 
 Ah, rogue ! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as 
 valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Aga- 
 memnon, and ten times better than the Nine 
 Worthies. Ah, villain ! 
 
 Fal. A rascally slave ! I will toss the rogue in a 240 
 blanket. 
 
 Dot. Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou 
 dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of 
 sheets. 
 
 Enter Music. 
 
 Page. The music is come, sir. 245 
 
 Fal. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, 
 Doll. A rascal bragging slave ! The rogue 
 fled from me like quicksilver. 
 Dol. T faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. 
 
 Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar- 250 
 pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and 
 foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine 
 old body for heaven ? 
 
 Enter [behind,] Prince Henry and Poins, disguised. 
 
 Fal. Peace, good Doll ! do not speak like a death's- 
 head. Do not bid me remember mine end. 255 
 
 Dol. Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of ? 
 
 Fal. A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have 
 made a good pantler ; 'a would ha' chipp'd 
 bread well. 
 
Sc. iv ^enr^ tjie jFourtl), JjDart 3)3] 59 
 
 Del. They say Poins has a good wit. 260 
 
 Fal. He a good wit ? Hang him, baboon ! His 
 wit's as thick as Tewksbury mustard ; there's 
 no more conceit in him than is in a mallet. 
 
 Dot. Why does the Prince love him so, then ? 
 
 Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 265 
 he plays at quoits well, and eats conger and 
 fennel, and drinks off candles' ends for flap- 
 dragons, and rides the wild-mare with the 
 boys, and jumps upon join'd stools, and swears 
 with a good grace, and wears his boots very 270 
 smooth, like unto the sign of The Leg, and 
 breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories ; 
 and such other gambol faculties 'a has, that 
 show a weak mind and an able body, for the 
 which the Prince admits him. For the Prince 275 
 himself is such another ; the weight of a hair 
 will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. 
 
 Prince. Would not this nave of a wheel have his 
 ears cut off ? 
 
 Poins. Let's beat him before his whore. 280 
 
 Prince. Look, whe'er the wither'd elder hath not 
 his poll claw'd like a parrot. 
 
 Poins. Is it not strange that desire should so many 
 years outlive performance ? 
 
 Fal. Kiss me, Doll. 285 
 
 Prince. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction ! 
 What says the almanac to that ? 
 
60 S?enn? tlje jfourtft, JDart 3131 Act 11 
 
 Pains. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his 
 man, be not lisping to his master's old tables, 
 his note-book, his counsel-keeper. 290 
 
 Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. 
 
 Dol. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant 
 heart. 
 
 Fal. I am old, I am old. 
 
 Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy 295 
 young boy of them all. 
 
 Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of ? I shall re- 
 ceive money o' Thursday. Shalt have a cap to- 
 morrow . A merry song, come ! It grows late ; 
 we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone. 300 
 
 Dol. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou 
 say'st so. Prove that ever I dress myself 
 handsome till thy return. Well, hearken at 
 the end. 
 
 Fal. Some sack, Francis. 305 
 
 Prince. } . 
 
 ~ . \ Anon, anon, sir. r ~ . - , , 
 
 Poins. } [Coming forward.] 
 
 Fal. Ha ! a bastard son of the King's,? And art 
 
 not thou Poins his brother ? 
 Prince. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what 
 
 a life dost thou lead ! 310 
 
 Fal. A better than thou. I am a gentleman ; thou 
 
 art a drawer. 
 Prince. Very true, sir ; and I come to draw you out 
 
 by the ears. 
 
sc. iv j^ntr^ tty jfourtl), part 3131 61 
 
 Host. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace ! By my 315 
 
 troth, welcome to London. Now, the Lord 
 
 bless that sweet face of thine ! O Jesu, are 
 
 you come from Wales ? 
 FaL Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by 
 
 this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art wel- 320 
 
 come. 
 
 Dol. How, you fat fool ! I scorn you. 
 Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your 
 
 revenge and turn all to a merriment, if you 
 
 take not the heat. 325 
 
 Prince. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how 
 
 vilely did you speak of me even now before this 
 
 honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman ! 
 Host. God's blessing of your good heart ! and so 
 
 she is, by my troth. 330 
 
 FaL Didst thou hear me ? 
 Prince. Yea, and you knew me, as you did when 
 
 you ran away by Gadshill. You knew I was 
 
 at your back, and spoke it on purpose to try 
 
 my patience. 335 
 
 FaL No, no, no ; not so ; I did not think thou wast 
 
 within hearing. 
 Prince. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful 
 
 abuse, and then I know how to handle you. 
 FaL No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour ; no abuse. |340 
 Prince. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler 
 
 and bread-chipper and I know not what ? 
 
62 t^enn? fyt JFourrijt |3art 3131 Act n 
 
 Fal. No abuse, Hal. 
 
 Pains. No abuse ? 
 
 FaZ. No abuse, Ned, i' the world ; honest Ned, 345 
 none. I disprais'd him before the wicked, that 
 the wicked might not fall in love with him ; 
 in which doing, I have done the part of a care- 
 ful friend and a true subject, and thy father is 
 to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal ; 350 
 none, Ned, none ; no, faith, boys, none. 
 
 Prince. See now, whether pure fear and entire cow- 
 ardice doth not make thee wrong this virtuous 
 gentlewoman to close with us ? Is she of the 
 wicked ? Is thine hostess here of the wicked ? 355 
 Or is thy boy of the wicked ? Or honest Bar- 
 dolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the 
 wicked ? 
 
 Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. 
 
 Fal. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irre- 
 coverable ; and his face is Lucifer's privy- 360 
 kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt- 
 worms. For the boy, there is a good angel 
 about him ; but the devil blinds him too. 
 
 Prince. For the women ? 
 
 Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and 365 
 burns poor souls. For the other, I owe her 
 money ; and whether she be damn'd for that, 
 I know not. 
 
 Host. No, I warrant you. 
 
Sc. iv j^enr^ tlje IFourtlj, part 3131 63 
 
 Fal. No, I think thou art not ; I think thou art 370 
 quit forjthat. Marry, there is another indict- 
 ment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten 
 in thy house, contrary to the law ; for the 
 which I think thou wilt howl. 
 
 Host. All victuallers do so. What's a joint of 375 
 mutton or two in a whole Lent ? 
 
 Prince. You, gentlewoman, 
 
 Dol. What says your Grace ? 
 
 Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels 
 
 against. Peto knocks at door. 
 
 Host. Who knocks so loud at door ? Look to the 381 
 door there, Francis. 
 
 Enter Peto. 
 
 Prince. Peto, how now ! what news ? 
 
 Peto. The King your father is at Westminster ; 
 
 And there are twenty weak and wearied posts 385 
 Come from the north ; and, as I came along, 
 I met and overtook a dozen captains, 
 Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, 
 And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. 
 
 Prince. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, 390 
 So idly to profane the precious time, 
 When tempest of commotion, like the south 
 Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt 
 And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. 
 
64 S?ntn? t\)t jfourtl), part 3131 Act 11 
 
 Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good 
 night. 395 
 
 Exeunt Prince Henry, Poins, [Peto, and 
 
 Bardolph]. 
 
 Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the 
 night, and we must hence and leave it un- 
 pick'd. [Knocking within.] More knocking 
 at the door ! 
 
 [Re-enter Bardolph.] 
 
 How now ! what's the matter ? 400 
 
 Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently ; 
 A dozen captains stay at door for you. 
 
 Fal. [To the Page.] Pay the musicians, sirrah. Fare- 
 well, hostess ; farewell, Doll. You see, my good 
 wenches , how men of merit are sought after. The 4 05 
 undeserver may sleep, when the man of action 
 is calPd on. Farewell, good wenches ; if I be 
 not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. 
 
 Dol. I cannot speak. If my heart be no,t ready to 
 
 burst, well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. 410 
 
 Fal. Farewell, farewell. 
 
 Exeunt Falstaff [and Bardolph]. 
 
 Host. Well, fare thee well. I have known thee 
 these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time ; 
 but an honester and truer-hearted man, 
 well, fare thee well. 415 
 
Sc. iv 
 
 tty jFourfl), part 311 65 
 
 Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tearsheet ! 
 
 Host. "What's the matter ? 
 
 Bard. [Within.] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to 
 my master. 
 
 Host. O, run, Doll, run ; run, good Doll. Come. 420 
 (She comes blubbered.) Yea, will you come, 
 Doll ? Exeunt. 
 
ACT THIRD 
 SCENE I 
 
 [Westminster. The palace.] 
 Enter the King in his nightgown, with a Page. 
 
 King. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick ; 
 But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, 
 And well consider of them. Make good speed. 
 
 Exit Page. 
 
 How many thousand of my poorest subjects 
 Are at this hour asleep ! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, 
 Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 6 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down 
 And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
 Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, 
 Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 10 
 
 And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, 
 Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, 
 Under the canopies of costly state, 
 And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody ? 
 O thou dull god, why li'st thou with the vile 15 
 In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch 
 A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell ? 
 Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
 Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains 
 66 
 
sc. i tyenn? t\)t 5Fourtlj, ^part 3131 67 
 
 In cradle of the rude imperious surge 20 
 
 And in the visitation of the winds, 
 Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
 Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them 
 With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, 
 That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? 25 
 Canst thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repose 
 To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, 
 And in the calmest and most stillest night, 
 With all appliances and means to boot, 
 Deny it to a king ? Then happy low, lie down ! 
 Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. 31 
 
 Enter Warwick and Surrey. 
 
 War. Many good morrows to your Majesty ! 
 
 King. Is it good morrow, lords ? 
 
 War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past. 
 
 King. Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords. 35 
 Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you ? 
 
 War. We have, my liege. 
 
 King. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom 
 How foul it is ; what rank diseases grow, 
 And with what danger, near the heart of it. 40 
 
 War. It is but as a body yet distemper'd ; 
 
 Which to his former strength may b*e restor'd 
 
 With good advice and little medicine. 
 
 My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd. 
 
 King. God ! that one might read the book of fate, 45 
 
68 tytmy fyt jfourtl), |Dart 313) Act m 
 
 And see the revolution of the times 
 
 Make mountains level, and the continent, 
 
 Weary of solid firmness, melt itself 
 
 Into the sea ! and, other times, to see 
 
 The beachy girdle of the ocean 50 
 
 Too wide for Neptune's hips ; how chances 
 
 mock, 
 
 And changes fill the cup of alteration 
 With divers liquors ! O, if this were seen, 
 The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, 
 What perils past, what crosses to ensue, 55 
 
 Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 
 'Tis not ten years gone 
 
 Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends, 
 Did feast together, and in two years after 
 Were they at wars. It is but eight years since 60 
 This Percy was the man nearest my soul, 
 Who like ? brother toiPd in my affairs 
 And laid his love and life under my foot ; 
 Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard 
 Gave him defiance. But which of you was by 
 You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember 66 
 
 [To Warwick.} 
 
 When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears, 
 Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, 
 Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy ? 
 "Northumberland, thou ladder by the which 70 
 My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne, " 
 
Sc. I H?enry ttje 5FourtIj t JjDart 3131 69 
 
 Though then, God knows, I had no such intent, 
 But that necessity so bow'd the state 
 That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss ; 
 "The time shall come," thus did he follow it, 75 
 "The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head, 
 Shall break into corruption :" so went on, 
 Foretelling this same time's condition 
 And the division of our amity. 
 
 War. There is a history in all men's lives, 80 
 
 Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd ; 
 The which observed, a man may prophesy, 
 With a near aim, of the main chance of things 
 As yet not come to life, who in their seeds 
 And weak beginnings lie intreasured. 85 
 
 Such things become the hatch and brood of time ; 
 And by the necessary form of this 
 King Richard might create a perfect guess 
 That great Northumberland, then false to him, 
 Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness ; 90 
 Which should not find a ground to root upon, 
 Unless on you. 
 
 King. Are these things then necessities ? 
 
 Then let us meet them like necessities. 
 And that same word even now cries out on us. 
 They say the Bishop and Northumberland 95 
 
 Are fifty thousand strong. 
 
 War. It cannot be, my lord. 
 
 Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, 
 
70 j^enrB t\)t jFourtij, part 3131 Act HI 
 
 The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace 
 To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord, 
 The powers that you already have sent forth 100 
 Shall bring this prize in very easily. 
 To comfort you the more, I have received 
 A certain instance that Glendower is dead. 
 Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill, 
 And these unseason'd hours perforce must add 105 
 Unto your sickness. 
 
 King. I will take your counsel : 
 
 And were these inward wars once out of hand, 
 We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 [Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallow's house.] 
 
 Enter Shallow and Silence [meeting]; Mouldy, Shadow, 
 Wart, Feeble, Bullcalf [a Servant or two with them]. 
 
 Shal. Come on, come on, come on, sir ; give me 
 your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir. An 
 early stirrer, by the rood ! And how doth my 
 good cousin Silence ? 
 
 Sil. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. 5 
 
 Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow ? 
 and your fairest daughter and mine, my god- 
 daughter Ellen ? 
 
 Sil. Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow ! 
 
sc. H jjenn? tfje jFourti), part 331 71 
 
 By yea and no, sir, I dare say my cousin 10 
 William is become a good scholar. He is at 
 Oxford still, is he not ? 
 
 Sil. Indeed, sir, to my cost. 
 
 ShaL 'A must, then, to the Inns o' Court shortly. 
 
 I was once of Clement's Inn, where I think 15 
 they will talk of mad Shallow yet. 
 
 Sil. You were call'd lusty Shallow then, 
 cousin. 
 
 ShaL By the mass, I was call'd anything ; and I 
 
 would have done anything indeed too, and 20 
 roundly too. There was I, and little John 
 Doit of Staffordshire, and black George 
 Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, 
 a Cots'ol' man. You had not four such 
 swinge bucklers in all the Inns o' Court again ; 
 and I may say to you, v/e knew where the 25 
 bona-robas were and had the best of them all 
 at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, 
 now Sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas 
 Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Sil. Cousin, this Sir John that comes hither anon 30 
 about soldiers ? 
 
 Shot. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him 
 break Skogan's head at the court-gate, when 
 'a was a crack not thus high ; and the very 
 same day did I fight with one Sampson Stock- 35 
 fish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, 
 
72 S?enri? t\)t JFourtlj, JjDart 3131 Actm 
 
 the mad days that I have spent ! And to see 
 how many of my old acquaintance are dead ! 
 
 Sil. We shall all follow, cousin. 
 
 Shal. Certain, 'tis certain ; very sure, very sure. 40 
 Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all ; 
 all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks 
 at Stamford fair ? 
 
 Sil. By my troth, I was not there. 
 
 Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your 45 
 town living yet ? 
 
 Sil. Dead, sir. 
 
 Shal. Jesu, Jesu, dead ! 'A drew a good bow ; 
 and dead ! 'A shot a fine shoot. John o' 
 Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money 50 
 on his head. Dead ! 'a would have clapp'd i' 
 the clout at twelve score ; and carried you a 
 forehand shaft at fourteen and fourteen and a 
 half, that it would have done a man's heart 
 good to see. How a score of ewes now ? 55 
 
 Sil. Thereafter as they be, a score of good ewes 
 may be worth ten pounds. 
 
 Shal. And is old Double dead ? 
 
 Sil. Here come two of Sir John FalstafFs men, as 
 
 I think. 60 
 
 Enter Bardolph and one with him. 
 Good morrow, honest gentlemen. 
 
sc. ii ^enr^ ttje jfourt^ p&rt 3131 73 
 
 Bard. I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow? 
 
 Shal. I am Robert Shallow, sir ; a poor esquire of 
 this county, and one of the King's justices of 
 the peace. What is your good pleasure with me ? 65 
 
 Bard. My captain, sir, commends him to you ; 
 my captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentle- 
 man, by heaven, and a most gallant leader. 
 
 Shal. He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good 
 
 backsword man. How doth the good knight ? 70 
 May I ask how my lady his wife doth ? 
 
 Bard. Sir, pardon ; a soldier is better accommo- 
 dated than with a wife. 
 
 Shal. It is well said, in faith, sir ; and it is well 
 
 said indeed too. Better accommodated ! it - 75 
 is good ; yea, indeed, is it. Good phrases 
 are surely, and ever were, very commendable. 
 Accommodated ! it comes of accommodo. 
 Very good ; a good phrase. f 
 
 Bard. Pardon, sir ; I have heard the word. 80 
 Phrase call you it ? By this day, I know not 
 the phrase ; but I will maintain the word with 
 my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word 
 of exceeding good command, by heaven. Ac- 
 commodated ; that is, when a man is, as they 85 
 say, accommodated ; or when a man is, being, 
 whereby 'a may be thought to be accommo 
 dated ; which is an excellent thing. 
 
74 H?nuT> fyt jfourtl), part 3131 Act m 
 
 Enter Falstaff. 
 
 Shal. It is very just. Look, here comes good 
 
 Sir John. Give me your good hand, give me 90 
 
 your worship's good hand. By my troth, 
 
 you like well and bear your years very well. 
 
 Welcome, good Sir John. 
 Fal. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert 
 
 Shallow. Master Surecard, as I think? 95 
 
 Shal. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in 
 
 commission with me. 
 Fed. Good Master Silence, it well befits you 
 
 should be of the peace. 
 
 SU. Your good worship is welcome. 100 
 
 Fal. Fie ! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have 
 
 you provided me here half a dozen sufficient 
 
 men ? 
 
 Shal. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit ? 
 Fal. Let me see them, I beseech you. 105 
 
 Shal. Where's the roll ? where's the roll ? where's 
 
 the roll ? Let me see, let me see, Jet me see. 
 
 So, so, so, so, so, so, so; yea, marry, sir. 
 
 Ralph Mouldy ! Let them appear as I call ; 
 
 let them do so, let them do so. Let me see ; 110 
 
 where is Mouldy ? 
 Moul. Here, an it please you. 
 Shal. What think you, Sir John ? A good-limb'd 
 
 fellow ; young, strong, and of good friends. 
 
sc. ii j^enn? tije jFourt^ jpart 3131 75 
 
 Fal. Is thy name Mouldy ? 115 
 
 Moul. Yea, an't please you. 
 
 FaZ. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd. 
 
 Shal. Ha, ha, ha ! most excellent, i* faith ! Things 
 
 that are mouldy lack use. Very singular good ! 
 
 In faith, well said, Sir John, very well said. 120 
 Fed. Prick him. 
 Moul. I was prick'd well enough before, an you 
 
 could have let me alone. My old dame will be 
 
 undone now for one to do her husbandry and 
 
 her drudgery. You need not to have prick'd 125 
 
 me ; there are other men fitter to go out than I. 
 Fal. Go to ; peace, Mouldy ; you shall go. 
 
 Mouldy, it is time you were spent. 
 Moul. Spent! 
 Shal. Peace, fellow, peace ; stand aside ; know 130 
 
 you where you are ? For the other, Sir John, 
 
 let me see. Simon Shadow ! 
 Fal. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under; 
 
 he's like to be a cold soldier. 
 
 Shal. Where's Shadow ? 135 
 
 Shad. Here, sir. 
 
 Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou ? 
 Shad. My mother's son, sir. 
 Fal. Thy mother's son ! like enough, and thy 
 
 father's shadow. So the son of the female is 140 
 
 the shadow of the male. It is often so, indeed ; 
 
 but much of the father's substance ! 
 
7 6 tytntv ti)t jFourtl), pirt 3131 Act m 
 
 I 
 
 Shal. Do you like him, Sir John ? 
 
 Fal. Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him, 
 
 for we have a number of shadows to fill up the 145 
 
 muster-book. 
 Shal. Thomas Wart ! 
 Fal. Where's he? 
 Wart. Here, sir. 
 
 Fal. Is thy name Wart ? 150 
 
 Wart. Yea, sir. 
 
 Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart. 
 Shal. Shall I prick him, Sir John ? 
 Fal. It were superfluous ; for his apparel is built 
 
 upon his back and the whole frame stands upon 155 
 
 pins. Prick him no more. 
 Shal. Ha, ha, ha ! you can do it, sir ; you can do 
 
 it ; I commend you well. Francis Feeble ! 
 Fee. Here, sir. 
 
 [Fal.] What trade art thou, Feeble ? 160 
 
 Fee. A woman's tailor, sir. 
 Shal. Shall I prick him, sir ? 
 Fal. You may ; but if he had been a man's tailor, 
 
 he'd ha' prick' d you. Wilt thou make as many 
 
 holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done 165 
 
 in a woman's petticoat ? 
 Fee. I will do my good will, sir ; you can have no 
 
 more. 
 Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor ! well said, 
 
 courageous Feeble ! Thou wilt be as valiant 170 
 
sc. ii j^enr^ tty JFourrt), part 3131 77 
 
 as the wrathful dove or most magnanimous 
 mouse. Prick the woman's tailor. Well, Mas- 
 ter Shallow ; deep, Master Shallow. 
 
 Fee. I would Wart might have gone, sir. 
 
 Fal. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou 175 
 mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I 
 cannot put him to a private soldier that is the 
 leader of so many thousands. Let that suffice, 
 most forcible Feeble. 
 
 Fee. It shall suffice, sir. 180 
 
 Fal. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who 
 is next ? 
 
 Shal. Peter Bullcalf o' the green ! 
 
 Fal. Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf. 
 
 Bull. Here, sir. 185 
 
 Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow ! Come, prick me 
 Bullcalf till he roar again. 
 
 Bull. O Lord ! good my lord captain, 
 
 Fal. What, dost thou roar before thou art 
 
 prick'd ? 190 
 
 Bull. O Lord, sir ! I am a diseased man. 
 
 Fal. What disease hast thou ? 
 
 Bull. A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I 
 caught with ringing in the King's affairs upon 
 his coronation-day, sir. 195 
 
 Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. 
 We will have away thy cold ; and I will take 
 such order that thy friends shall ring for thee. 
 Is here all ? 
 
78 5?enrp tty jFourri), part 3131 Act HI 
 
 Shot. Here is two more call'd than your number ; 200 
 
 you must have but four here, sir. And so, I 
 
 pray you, go in with me to dinner. 
 Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot 
 
 tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my 
 
 troth, Master Shallow. 205 
 
 Shal. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all 
 
 night in the windmill in Saint George's field ? 
 Fal. No more of that, [good] Master Shallow [no 
 
 more of that]. 
 Shal. Ha ! 'twas a merry night. And is Jane 210 
 
 Nightwork alive ? 
 Fal. She lives, Master Shallow. 
 Skal. She never could away with me. 
 Fal. Never, never ; she would always say she 
 
 could not abide Master Shallow. 215 
 
 Shal. By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. 
 
 She was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her 
 
 own well ? 
 
 Fal. Old, old, Master Shallow. 
 Shal. Nay, she must be old ; she cannot choose 220 
 
 but be old ; certain she's old ; and had Robin 
 
 Nightwork by old Nightwork before I came 
 
 to Clement's Inn. 
 SU. That's fifty-five year ago. 
 Shal. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that 225 
 
 that this knight and I have seen ! Ha, Sir 
 
 John, said I well ? 
 
sc. n s?mrp tfce jfourt^ part 3131 79 
 
 Fal. We have heard the chimes at midnight, 
 Master Shallow. 
 
 Shal. That we have, that we have, that we have ; ''SO 
 in faith, Sir John, we have. Our watchword 
 was "Hem, boys!" Come, let's to dinner; 
 come, let's to dinner. Jesu, the days that we 
 have seen ! Come, come. 
 
 Exeunt [Falstaff and the Justwes\ 
 
 Bull. Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand m;j 285 
 friend ; and here's four Harry ten shillings i) 
 French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, ' 
 had as lief be hang'd, sir, as go ; and yet, f< 
 mine own part, sir, I do not care ; but rathe,*, 
 because I am unwilling, and, for mine own pa t S4C 
 have a desire to stay with my friends ; else, ? 
 I did not care, for mine own part, so much 
 
 Bard. Go to ; stand aside. 
 
 Moul. And, good master corporal captain, for /ay 
 
 [old] dame's sake, stand my friend. She na, 24 
 nobody to do anything about her when : am 
 gone ; and she is old, and cannot help he i-self 
 You shall have forty, sir. 
 
 Bard. Go to ; stand aside. 
 
 Fee. By my troth, I care not ; a man can die bat 250 
 once ; we owe God a death. I'll ne'er 3eai a 
 base mind. An't be my destiny, so ; ant oe 
 not, so. No man's too good to serve 's orinee 
 and let it go which way it will, he that ' Jif*- mid- 
 year is quit for the next. 26 
 
8o H?enri? tty jFourtl), H&rt 3131 Act HI 
 
 Well said ; th' art a good fellow. 
 Fee. Faith, I'll bear no base mind. 
 
 Re-enter Falstaff and the Justices. 
 
 Fal. Come, sir, which men shall I have ? 
 
 Shal. Four of which you please. 
 
 Bard. [Aside to Fal.] Sir, a word with you. I have 260 
 
 three pound to free Mouldy and Bullcalf. 
 Fal. Go to ; well. 
 Shal. Come, Sir John, which four will you 
 
 have? 
 
 Fal. Do you choose for me. 265 
 
 Shal. Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and 
 
 Shadow. 
 Fal. Mouldy and Bullcalf ! for you, Mouldy, stay 
 
 at home till you are past service ; and for your 
 
 part, Bullcalf, grow till you come unto it. I 270 
 
 will none of you. 
 Shal. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. 
 
 They are your likeliest men, and I would have 
 
 you serv'd with the best. 
 Fal. Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to 275 
 
 choose a man ? Care I for the limb, the thews, 
 
 the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man ! 
 
 Give me the spirit, Master Shallow. Here's 
 
 Wart ; you see what a ragged appearance it is. 
 
 'A shall charge you and discharge you with the 280 
 
 motion of a pewterer's hammer, come off and 
 
sc. ii j?mn? t\)t jFourti), part JOB 81 
 
 on swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's 
 bucket. And this same half-fac'd fellow, 
 Shadow r give me this man. He presents no 
 mark to the enemy ; the foeman may with 285 
 as great aim level at the edge of a penknife. 
 And for a retreat ; how swiftly will this Feeble 
 the woman's tailor run off ! O, give me the 
 spare men, and spare me the great ones. Put 
 me a caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph. 290 
 
 Bard. Hold, Wart, traverse ; thus, thus, thus. 
 
 Fail. Come, manage me your caliver. So : very 
 well ; go to ; very good, exceeding good. 
 O, give me always a little, lean, old, chapt, 
 bald shot. Well said, i' faith, Wart ; thou'rt 295 
 a good scab. Hold, there's a tester for thee. 
 
 Shal. He is not his craft's master ; he doth not do 
 it right. I remember at Mile-end Green, 
 when I lay at Clement's Inn, I was then Sir 
 Dagone't in Arthur's show, there was a little 300 
 quiver fellow, and 'a would manage you his 
 piece thus ; and 'a would about and about, 
 and come you in and come you in. "Rah, tah, 
 tah," would 'a say ; "bounce " would 'a say ; 
 and away again would 'a go, and again would 305 
 'a come. I shall ne'er see such a fellow. 
 
 Fal. These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. 
 God keep you, Master Silence ; I will not use 
 many words with you. Fare you well, gentle- 
 
82 j^nn? t\)t JFoutti), part 3131 Act in 
 
 men both ; I thank you. I must a dozen mile 310 
 to-night. Bardolph, give the soldiers coats. 
 
 Shal. Sir John, the Lord bless you ! God prosper 
 your affairs ! God send us peace ! At your 
 return visit our house ; let our old acquaint- 
 ance be renewed. Peradventure I will with ye 315 
 > to the court. 
 
 Fal. Tore God, would you would [Master Shal- 
 low]. 
 
 Shal. Go to ; I have spoke at a word. God keep 
 
 you ! 320 
 
 Fal. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. [Exeunt 
 Justices.] On, Bardolph ; lead the men away. 
 [Exeunt Bardolph, recruits, etc.] As I return, 
 I will fetch off these justices. I do see the 
 bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how 325 
 subject we old men are to this vice of lying ! 
 This same starv'd justice hath done nothing but 
 prate to me of the wildness of his youth and 
 the feats he hath done about Turnbull Street ; 
 and every third word a lie, duer paid to the 330 
 hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remem- 
 ber him at Clement's Inn like a man made af- 
 ter supper of a cheese-paring. When 'a was 
 naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked 
 radish, with a head fantastically carv'd upon 335 
 it with a knife. 'A was so forlorn, that his 
 dimensions to any thick sight were invincible. 
 
sc. H tyenn? fyt jfourtt), JjOart 331 83 
 
 'A was the very genius of famine, yet lecherous 
 as a monkey, and the whores called him man- 
 draker ^ATcame ever in the rearward of the 340 
 fashion, and sung those tunes to the over- 
 scutch'd huswives that he heard the carmen 
 whistle, and sware they were his fancies or his / 
 good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger V 
 become a squire, and talks as familiarly of John 
 o' Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him ; 345 
 and I'll be sworn 'a ne'er saw him but once in 
 the Tilt-yard ; and then he burst his head for 
 crowding among the marshal's men. I saw it, 
 and told John o' Gaunt he beat his own name ; 
 for you might have thrust him and all his 350 
 apparel into an eel-skin. The case of a treble 
 hautboy was a mansion for him, a court ; and 
 now has he land and beeves. Well, I'll be ac- 
 quainted with him, if I return ; and it shall go 
 hard but I will make him a philosopher's two 355 
 stones to me. If the young dace be a bait for 
 the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature 
 but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and 
 there an end. Exit 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 SCENE I 
 
 [Yorkshire.] Within the Forest of Gaultree. 
 
 Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Hastings [and 
 [others]. 
 
 Arch. What is this forest calPd ? 
 
 Hast. 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an't shall please your Grace. 
 
 Arch. Here stand, my lords ; and send discoverers forth 
 To know the numbers of our enemies. 
 
 Hast. We have sent forth already. 
 
 Arch. 'Tis well done. & 
 
 My friends and brethren in these great affairs, 
 I must acquaint you that I have receiv'd 
 New-dated letters from Northumberland ; 
 Their cold intent, tenour, and substance, thus : 
 Here doth he wish his person, with such powers 
 As might hold sortance with his quality, 11 
 
 The which he could not levy ; whereupon 
 He is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes, 
 To Scotland ; and concludes in hearty prayers 
 That your attempts may overlive the hazard 15 
 And fearful meeting of their opposite. 
 
 Mowb. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground 
 And dash themselves to pieces. 
 
Sc. i $tnr tty jfourtl), part 311 85 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Hast. Now, what news ? 
 
 Mess. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile, 
 
 In goodly form comes on the enemy ; 20 
 
 And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number 
 Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand. 
 
 Mowb. The just proportion that we gave them out. 
 Let us sway on and face them in the field. 
 
 Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us here ? 25 
 
 Enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Mowb. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland. 
 
 West. Health and fair greeting from our general, 
 The Prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster. 
 
 Arch. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace, 
 What doth concern your coming. 
 
 West. [Then, my lord,] 
 
 Unto your Grace do I in chief address 31 
 
 The substance of my speech. If that rebellion 
 Came like itself, in base and abject routs, 
 Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags, 
 And countenanc'd by boys and beggary, 35 
 
 I say, if damn'd commotion so appeared, 
 In his true, native, and most proper shape, 
 You, reverend father, and these noble lords 
 Had not been here, to dress the ugly form 
 Of base and bloody insurrection 40 
 
86 tymrg fyt jfourtl), ^art 3131 Act iv 
 
 With your fair honours. You, Lord Archbishop, 
 Whose see is by a civil peace maintain' d, 
 Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd, 
 Whose learning and good letters peace hath 
 
 tutor'd, 
 
 Whose white investments figure innocence, 45 
 
 The dove, and very blessed spirit of peace, 
 Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself 
 Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace, 
 Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war ; 
 Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, 
 Your pens to lances and your tongue divine 51 
 To a loud trumpet and a point of war ? 
 Arch. Wherefore do I this ? so the question stands. 
 Briefly to this end : we are all diseas'd, 
 [And with our surfeiting and wanton hours 55 
 
 Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, 
 And we must bleed for it ; of which disease 
 Our late king, Richard, being infected, died. 
 But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland, 
 I take not on me here as a physician, 60 
 
 Nor do I as an enemy to peace 
 Troop in the throngs of military men ; 
 But rather show awhile like fearful war 
 To diet rank minds sick of happiness, 64 
 
 And purge the obstructions which begin to stop 
 Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly. 
 I have in equal balance justly weigh'd 
 
sc. i s?enr rfje jfourtf), }JDart 3131 87 
 
 What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we 
 
 And find our griefs heavier than our offences. 
 
 We see which way the stream of time doth run, 70 
 
 And are enforced from our most quiet there 
 
 By the rough torrent of occasion ; 
 
 And have the summary of all our griefs, 
 
 When time shall serve, to show in articles ; 
 
 Which long ere this we offer'd to the King, 75 
 
 And might by no suit gain our audience. 
 
 When we are wrong'd and would unfold our griefs, 
 
 We are deni'd access unto his person 
 
 Even by those men that most have done us wrong.] 
 
 The dangers of the days but newly gone, 80 
 
 Whose memory is written on the earth 
 
 With yet appearing blood, and the examples 
 
 Of every minute's instance, present now, 
 
 Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms, 
 
 Not to break peace or any branch of it, 85 
 
 But to establish here a peace indeed, 
 
 Concurring both in name and quality. 
 
 West . When ever yet was your appeal denied ? 
 Wherein have you been galled by the King ? 
 What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you, 90 
 That you should seal this lawless bloody book , 
 Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine 
 And consecrate commotion's bitter edge ? 
 
 Arch, My brother general, the commonwealth, 
 
88 tytmy ttje jfourtl), part 3l2f| Act iv 
 
 To brother born an household cruelty. 95 
 
 I make my quarrel in particular. 
 
 West. There is no need of any such redress ; 
 Or if there were, it not belongs to you. 
 
 Mowb. Why not to him in part, and to us all 
 
 That feel the bruises of the days before, 100 
 
 And suffer the condition of these times 
 To lay a heavy and unequal hand 
 Upon our honours ? 
 
 West. [O, my good Lord Mowbray, 
 Construe the times to their necessities, 
 And you shall say indeed, it is the time, 105 
 And not the King, that doth you injuries. 
 Yet for your part, it not appears to me 
 Either from the King or in the present time 
 That you should have an inch of any ground 
 To build a grief on. Were you not restor'd 110 
 To all the Duke of Norfolk's signories, 
 -j[. ir noble and right well-rememb'red father's ? 
 
 Mowb. What thing, in honour, had my father lost, 
 That need to be reviv'd and breath' d in note ? 
 The King that lov'd him, as the state stood then, 
 Was, force perforce, compell'd to banish him ; 116 
 And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he, 
 Being mounted and both roused in their seats, 
 Their neighing coursers daring of the spur, 119 
 Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, 
 Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel, 
 
Sc. i s?mn? rt)* Jfourtlj, pirt 331 89 
 
 And the loud trumpet blowing them together, 
 Then, then, when there was nothing could have 
 
 stay'd 
 
 My father from the breast of Bolingbroke, 124 
 O, when the King did throw his warder down 
 His own life hung upon the staff he threw, 
 Then threw he down himself and all their lives 
 That by indictment and by dint of sword 
 Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke. 
 West. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not 
 
 what. 130 
 
 The Earl of Hereford was reputed then 
 In England the most valiant gentleman. 
 Who knows on whom Fortune would then have 
 
 smil'd? 
 
 But if your father had been victor there, 
 He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry ; 135 
 
 For all the country in a general voice 
 Cried hate upon him ; and all their prayers and 
 
 love 
 
 Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on 
 And bless' d and grac'd and did, more than the 
 
 King, ] 
 
 But this is mere digression from my purpose. 140 
 Here come I from our princely general 
 To know your griefs ; to tell you from his Grace 
 That he will give you audience ; and wherein 
 It shall appear that your demands are just, 
 
90 l^enri? tlje jfourtl), ^part 3131 Act iv 
 
 You shall enjoy them, everything set off 145 
 
 That might so much as think you enemies. 
 Mowb. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer ; 
 
 And it proceeds from policy, not love. 
 West. Mowbray, you overween to take it s*o ; 
 
 This offer comes from mercy, not from fear. 150 
 
 For, lo ! within a ken our army lies, 
 
 Upon mine honour, all too confident 
 
 To give admittance to a thought of fear. 
 
 Our battle is more full of names than yours, 
 
 Our men more perfect in the use of arms, 155 
 
 Our armour all as strong, our cause the best ; 
 
 Then reason will our hearts should be as good. 
 
 Say you not then our offer is compell'd. 
 Mowb. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley. 
 West. That argues but the shame of your offence. 
 
 A rotten case abides no handling. 161 
 
 Hast. Hath the Prince John a full commission, 
 
 In very ample virtue of his father, 
 
 To hear and absolutely to determine 
 
 Of what conditions we shall stand upon ? 165 
 
 West. That is intended in the general's name. 
 
 I muse you make so slight a question. 
 Arch. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this 
 schedule, 
 
 For this contains our general grievances. 
 
 Each several article herein redress'd, 170 
 
 All members of our cause, both here and hence, 
 
Sc. i J^enrp ttie jfourtlj, JDart 3131 91 
 
 That are insinewed to this action, 
 
 Acquitted by a true substantial form 
 
 And present execution of our wills 
 
 To us and to our purposes confin'd, 175 
 
 We come within our awful banks again 
 
 And knit our powers to the arm of peace. 
 
 West. This will I show the general. Please you, lords, 
 In sight of both our battles we may meet ; 
 And either end in peace, which God so frame ! 180 
 Or to the place of difference call the swords 
 Which must decide it. Exit West. 
 
 Arch. My lord, we will do so. 
 
 Mowb. There is a thing within my bosom tells me 
 That no conditions of our peace can stand. 
 
 Hast. Fear you not that. If we can make our peace 
 Upon such large terms and so absolute 186 
 
 As our conditions shall consist upon, 
 Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. 
 
 Mowb. Yea, but our valuation shall be such 
 
 That every slight and false-derived cause, 190 
 
 Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason 
 Shall to the King taste of this action ; 
 That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love, 
 We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind 
 That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff 195 
 And good from bad find no partition. 
 
 Arch. No, no, my lord. Note this : the King is weary 
 Of dainty and such picking grievances ; 
 
92 s?mn? tije jFourtJi, part 3f|3l Activ 
 
 For he hath found to end one doubt by death 
 
 Revives two greater in the heirs of life, 200 
 
 And therefore will he wipe his tables clean 
 
 And keep no tell-tale to his memory 
 
 That may repeat and history his loss 
 
 To new remembrance ; for full well he knows 
 
 He cannot so precisely weed this land 205 
 
 As his misdoubts present occasion. 
 
 His foes are so enrooted with his friends 
 
 That, plucking to unfix an enemy, 
 
 He doth unfasten so and shake a friend ; 
 
 So that this land, like an offensive wife 210 
 
 That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes, 
 
 As he is striking, holds his infant up 
 
 And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm 
 
 That was uprear'd to execution. 
 
 Hast. Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods 215 
 On late offenders, that he now doth lack 
 The very instruments of chastisement ; 
 So that his power, like to a fangless lion, 
 May offer, but not hold. 
 
 Arch. 'Tis very true ; 
 
 And therefore be assured, my good Lord Marshal, 
 If we do now make our atonement well, 221 
 
 Our peace will, like a broken limb united, 
 Grow stronger for the breaking. 
 
 Mowb. Be it so. 
 
 Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland. 
 
sc. ii ^enr^ tlje jFourtlj, part 3131 93 
 
 Re-enter Westmoreland. 
 
 West. The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your lord- 
 
 ship 225 
 
 To meet his Grace just distance 'tween our armies. 
 
 Mowb. Your Grace of York, in God's name, then, set 
 
 forward. 
 
 Arch. Before, and greet his Grace. My lord, we come. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 [Another part of the forest] 
 
 Enter [from one side, Mowbray, attended; afterwards 
 the Archbishop, Hastings, and others : from the other 
 side,] Prince John of Lancaster [and Westmoreland ; 
 Officers, and others with them]. 
 
 Lan. You are well encount'red here, my cousin 
 
 Mowbray. 
 
 Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop ; 
 And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all. 
 My Lord of York, it better show'd with you 
 When that your flock, assembled by the bell, 5 
 Encircled you to hear with reverence 
 Your exposition on the holy text 
 Than now to see you here an iron man, 
 Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum, 
 Turning the word to sword and life to death. 10 
 
94 tyenn? tlje jFourtlj, jpart 3(31 Act iv 
 
 That man that sits within a monarch's heart, 
 And ripens in the sunshine of his favour, 
 Would he abuse the countenance of the King, 
 Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach 
 In shadow of such greatness ! With you, Lord 
 Bishop, 15 
 
 It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken 
 How deep you were within the books of God ? 
 To us the speaker in His parliament ; 
 To us the imagin'd voice of God himself ; 
 The very opener and intelligencer 20 
 
 Between the grace, the sanctities, of Heaven 
 And our dull workings. O, who shall believe 
 But you misuse the reverence of your place, 
 Employ the countenance and grace of Heaven, 
 As a false favourite doth his prince's name, 25 
 In deeds dishonourable ? You have ta'en up, 
 Under the counterfeited zeal of God, 
 The subjects of His substitute, my father, 
 And both against the peace of Heaven and him 
 Have here upswarm'ed them. 
 
 Arch. Good my Lord of Lancaster, 
 
 I am not here against your father's peace ; 31 
 
 But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland, 
 The tune misord'red doth, in common sense, 
 Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, 
 To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace 35 
 
 The parcels and particulars of our grief, 
 
sc. ii J^enn? tlje jfourt^ ^art 3131 95 
 
 The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the 
 
 couri, 
 
 Whereon this Hydra son of war is born ; 
 Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep 
 With grant of our most just and right desires ; 4<^ 
 And true obedience, of this madness cur'd, 
 Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty. 
 
 Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes 
 To the last man. 
 
 Hast. And though we here fall down, 
 
 We have supplies to second our attempt. 45 
 
 If they miscarry, theirs shall second them ; 
 And so success of mischief shall be born, 
 And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up 
 Whiles England shall have generation. 
 
 Lan. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow, 
 To sound the bottom of the after-times. 51 
 
 West. Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly 
 How far forth you do like their articles. 
 
 Lan. I like them all, and do allow them well, 
 
 And swear here, by the honour of my blood, 55 
 My father's purposes have been mistook, 
 And some about him have too lavishly 
 Wrested his meaning and authority. 
 My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd ; 
 Upon my soul , they shall . If this may please you , 60 
 Discharge your powers unto their several counties, 
 As we will ours ; and here between the armies 
 
9 6 jmtT tije ;tfourtt), part 3131 Act iv 
 
 Let's drink together friendly and embrace, 
 
 That all their eyes may bear those tokens home 
 
 Of our restored love and amity. 65 
 
 Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses. 
 Lan. I give it you, and will maintain my word ; 
 
 And thereupon I drink unto your Grace. 
 [Hast.] Go, captain, and deliver to the army 69 
 
 This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part. 
 
 I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain. 
 
 Exit [Officer]. 
 
 Arch. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. 
 West. I pledge your Grace ; and, if you knew what pains 
 
 I have bestow'd to breed this present peace, 
 
 You would drink freely. But my love to ye 75 
 
 Shall show itself more openly hereafter. 
 Arch. I do not doubt you. 
 West. I am glad of it. 
 
 Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray. 
 Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season ; 
 
 For I am, on the sudden, something ill. 80 
 
 Arch. Against ill chances men are ever merry ; 
 
 But heaviness foreruns the good event. 
 West. Therefore be merry, coz ; since sudden sorrow 
 
 Serves to say thus, some good thing comes tomor- 
 row. 
 
 Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. 85 
 
 Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be true. 
 
 Shouts [within]. 
 
sc. ii J?ntrs tty jfourtl), pot 3131 97 
 
 Lan. The word of peace is rendered. Hark, how they 
 
 shout ! 
 
 Mowb. Thisliad been cheerful after victory. 
 Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest ; 
 
 For then both parties nobly are subdu'd, 90 
 
 And neither party loser. 
 Lan. Go, my lord, 
 
 And let our army be discharged too. 
 
 And, good my lord, so please you, let your trains 
 
 March by us, that we may peruse the men 
 
 Exit [Westmoreland]. 
 
 We should have cop'd withal. 
 Arch. Go, good Lord Hastings, 
 
 And, ere they be dismissed, let them march by. 96 
 
 Exit [Hastings]. 
 
 Re-enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Lan. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together. 
 
 Now cousin, wherefore stands our army still ? 
 West. The leaders, having charge from you to stand, 
 
 Will not go off until they hear you speak. 100 
 
 Lan. They know their duties. 
 
 Re-enter Hastings. 
 
 Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already. 
 
 Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their 
 courses 
 H 
 
98 ^enn? tije jfourt^ part 313 Act iv 
 
 East, west, north, south ; or, like a school broke 
 
 up, 
 
 Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place. 
 West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings ; for the 
 which 106 
 
 I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason ; 
 And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mow- 
 bray, 
 
 Of capital treason I attach you both. 
 Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honourable ? 110 
 West. Is your assembly so ? 
 Arch. Will you thus break your faith ? 
 Lan. I pawn'd thee none. 
 
 I promised you redress of these same grievances 
 Whereof you did complain ; which, by mine 
 
 honour, 
 
 I will perform with a most Christian care. 115 
 But for you, rebels, look to taste the due 
 Meet for rebellion [and such acts as yours]. 
 Most shallowly did you these arms, commence, 
 Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence. 
 Strike up our drums, pursue the scatt'red 
 
 stray. 
 
 God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day. 121 
 Some guard these traitors to the block of death, 
 Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
Sc. HI ^ntrs tlje jFourtl), part 3131 99 
 
 SCENE ill 
 
 [Another part of the forest.] 
 
 Alarums. Excursion. Enter Falstaff and Colville 
 [meeting]. 
 
 Fal. What's your name, sir ? Of what condition 
 are you, and of what place, [I pray] ? 
 
 Col. I am a knight, sir ; and my name is Colville 
 of the Dale. 
 
 Fal. Well, then, Colville is your name, a knight 5 
 is your degree, and your place the Dale. 
 Colville shall be still your name, a traitor 
 your degree, and the dungeon your place, a 
 place deep enough ; so shall you be still Col- 
 ville of the Dale. 10 
 
 Col. Are not you Sir John Falstaff ? 
 
 Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do 
 
 ye yield, sir ? or shall I sweat for you ? If I 
 do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and 
 they weep for thy death ; therefore rouse up 15 
 fear and trembling, and do observance to my 
 mercy. 
 Col. I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in 
 
 that thought yield me. 
 
 Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly 20 
 of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks 
 any other word but my name. An I had but 
 
ioo tymty tlje jfourt^ part 3|J| Activ 
 
 a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the 
 most active fellow in Europe. My womb, my 
 womb, my womb, undoes me. Here comes 5 
 our general. 
 
 Enter Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, [Blunt] 
 and others. 
 
 Lan. The heat is past ; follow no further now. 
 
 Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland. 
 
 [Exit Westmoreland.] 
 
 Now, Falstaff , where have you been all this while ? 
 \When everything is ended, then you come. 30 
 
 fThese tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, 
 IDne time or other break some gallows' back. 
 
 Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be 
 thus. I never knew yet but rebuke and check 
 was the reward of valour. Do you think me 35 
 a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet ? Have I, 
 in my poor and old motion, the expedition 
 of thought ? I have speeded hither with the 
 very extremest inch of possibility ; I have 
 found'red ninescore and odd posts ; and here, 40 
 travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and im- 
 maculate valour, taken Sir John Colville of the 
 Dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy. 
 But what of that ? He saw me, and yielded ; 
 that I may justly say, with the hook-nos'd 45 
 fellow of Rome, " I came, saw, and overcame." 
 
sc. in S?rar2 tty jFourtJj, ;jpart 3131 101 
 
 Lan. It was more of his courtesy than your deserv- 
 ing. 
 
 Fal. I know not. Here he is, and here I yield 
 
 him ; and I beseech your Grace, let it be 50 
 book'd with the rest of this day's deeds ; or, 
 by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad 
 else, with mine own picture on the top on't, 
 Colville kissing my foot ; to the which course if 
 I be enforc'd, if you do not all show like gilt 55 
 twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of fame 
 o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the 
 cinders of the element, which show like pins' 
 heads to her, believe not the word of the noble. 
 Therefore let me have right, and let desert 60 
 mount. 
 
 Lan. Thine' s too heavy to mount. 
 
 Fal. Let it shine, then. 
 
 Lan. Thine's too thick to shine. 
 
 Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may 65 
 do me good, and call it what you will. 
 
 Lan. Is thy name Colville ? 
 
 Col. It is, my lord. 
 
 Lan. A famous rebel art thou, Colville. 
 
 Fal. And a famous true subject took him. 70 
 
 Col. I am, my lord, but as my betters are 
 
 That led me hither. Had they been rul'd by me, 
 You should have won them dearer than you 
 have. 
 
loa J?enrt! tfie jfourtlj, part 313 Act iv 
 
 Fal. I know not how they sold themselves ; but 
 
 thou, like a kind fellow, gav'st thyself away 75 
 gratis ; and I thank thee for thee. 
 
 Re-enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Lan. Now, have you left pursuit ? 
 
 West. Retreat is made and execution stay'd. 
 
 Lan. Send Colville with his confederates 
 
 To York, to present execution. 80 
 
 Blunt, lead him hence ; and see you guard him 
 sure. 
 
 Exeunt [Blunt and others] with Colville. 
 And now dispatch we toward the court, my 
 
 lords ; 
 
 I hear the King my father is sore sick. 
 Our news shall go before us to his Majesty, 
 Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him, 85 
 And we with sober speed will follow you. 
 Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go 
 
 Through Gloucestershire ; and, when you come 
 
 to court, 
 
 Stand my good lord, [pray,] in your good re- 
 port. 
 
 Lan. Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition, 90 
 Shall better speak of you than you deserve. 
 
 Exeunt [all but Falstaff]. 
 
 Fal. I would you had [but] the wit ; 'twere better 
 than your dukedom. Good faith, this same 
 
sc. in ^enn? t\)t jffourtlj, part 3131 103 
 
 young sober-blooded boy doth not love me, 
 nor a man cannot make him laugh ; but that's 95 
 no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's never */ 
 none of these demure boys come to any proof ; 
 for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, 
 and making many fish-meals, that they fall 
 into a kind of male green-sickness ; and then, 100 
 when they marry, they get wenches. j/They 
 are generally fools and cowards ; which some 
 of us should be too, but for inflammation. A 
 good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in 
 it. It ascends me into the brain ; dries me 105 
 there all the foolish and dull and crudy 
 vapours which environ it ; makes it apprehen- 
 sive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, 
 and delectable shapes ; which, deliver'd o'er 
 to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, 
 becomes excellent wit. The second property 110 
 of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the 
 blood ; which, before cold and settled, left the 
 liver white and pale, which is the badge of 
 pusillanimity and cowardice ; but the sherris 
 warms it and makes it course from the inwards 115 
 to the parts extremes. It illumineth the 
 face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the 
 rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm ; and 
 then the vital commoners and inland petty 
 spirits muster me all to their captain, the heart, 120 
 
104 J?*nr2 tty jFourtlj, ^art 3131 Act iv 
 
 who, great and puff'd up with this retinue, 
 doth any deed of courage ; and this valour 
 comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is 
 nothing without sack, for that sets it a-work ; 
 and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a 125 
 devil, till sack commences it and sets it in act 
 and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is 
 valiant ; for the cold blood he did naturally 
 inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, sterile, 
 and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilPd 130 
 with excellent endeavour of drinking good 
 and good store of fertile sherris, that he is be- 
 come very hot and valiant. If I had a thou- ~ 
 sand sons, the first humane principle I would 
 teach them should be, to forswear thin pota- 135 
 tions and to addict themselves to sack. 
 
 Enter Bardolph. 
 
 How now, Bardolph ? 
 
 Bard. The army is discharged all and gone. 
 
 Fal. Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire ; 
 and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, 
 esquire. I have him already tempering be- 140 
 tween my finger and my thumb, and shortly 
 will I seal with him. Come away. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
sc. iv n?enn? t\)t jfourty, |3art 3131 105 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 [Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber.] 
 
 Enter the King, the Princes Thomas of Clarence and 
 Humphrey of Gloucester, Warwick [and others]. 
 
 King. Now, lords, if God doth give successful end 
 To this debate that bleedeth at our doors, 
 We will our youth lead on to higher fields, 
 And draw no swords but what are sanctifi'd. 
 Our navy is address'd, our power collected, 5 
 
 Our substitutes in absence well invested, 
 And everything lies level to our wish. 
 Only, we want a little personal strength ; 
 And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot, 
 Come underneath the yoke of government. 10 
 
 War. Both which we doubt not but your Majesty 
 Shall soon enjoy. 
 
 King. Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, 
 
 Where is the Prince your brother ? 
 
 Glou. I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. 
 
 King. And how accompanied ? 
 
 Glou. I do not know, my lord. 
 
 King. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with 
 him ? 16 
 
 Glou. No, my good lord ; he is in presence here. 
 
 Clar. What would my lord and father ? 
 
 King. Nothing Imt well to thee, Thomas of Clarence. 
 
io6 tytnrg tlje jFourtlj, part 3131 Act iv 
 
 How chance thou art not with the Prince thy 
 brother ? 20 
 
 He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas. 
 Thou hast a better place in his affection 
 Than all thy brothers. Cherish it, my boy, 
 And noble offices thou mayst effect 
 ; Of mediation, after I am dead, 25 
 
 Between his greatness and thy other brethren. 
 . Therefore omit him not ; blunt not his love, 
 ! Nor lose the good advantage of his grace 
 \ By seeming cold or careless of his will. 
 For he is gracious, if he be observ'd ; 30 
 
 He hath a tear for pity, and a hand 
 Open as day for melting charity ; 
 :; Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint, 
 As humorous as winter, and as sudden 
 As flaws congealed in the spring of day. 35 
 
 His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd. 
 Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, 
 When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth ; 
 But, being moody, give him time and scope, 
 Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, 40 
 Confound themselves with working. Learn this, 
 
 Thomas, 
 
 And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends, 
 A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in, 
 That the united vessel of their blood, 
 Mingled with venom of suggestion, 45 
 
sc. iv ^enrs tty J?oulu put 331 107 
 
 As, force perforce, the age will pour it in, 
 Shall never leak, though it do work as strong 
 As acoiiitum or rash gunpowder. 
 
 Clar. I shall observe him with all care and love. 
 
 King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, 
 Thomas ? 50 
 
 Clar. He is not there to-day ; he dines in London. 
 
 King. And how accompanied ? [Canst thou tell that ?] 
 
 Clar. With Poins, and other his continual followers. 
 
 King. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds, 
 
 And he, the noble image of my youth, 55 
 
 Is overspread with them ; therefore my grief 
 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death. 
 The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape 
 In forms imaginary the unguided days 
 And rotten times that you shall look upon 60 
 
 When I am sleeping with my ancestors. 
 For when his headstrong riot hath no curb, 
 When rage and hot blood are his counsellors, 
 When means and lavish manners meet together, 
 O, with what wings shall his affections fly 65 
 
 Towards fronting peril and opposed decay ! 
 
 War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite. 
 The Prince but studies his companions 
 Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, 
 'Tis needful that the most immodest word 70 
 
 Be look'd upon and learn'd ; which once attain'd, 
 Your Highness knows, comes to no further use 
 
io8 imrs tlje jfourt^ JDart 3131 Act iv 
 
 But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms, 
 I/ The Prince will in the perfectness of time 
 
 Cast off his followers ; and their memory 75 
 
 Shall as a pattern or a measure live, . 
 By which his Grace must mete the lives of others, 
 Turning past evils to advantages. 
 King. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb 
 In the dead carrion. 
 
 Enter Westmoreland. 
 
 Who's here ? Westmoreland ? 
 
 West. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness 81 
 Added to that that I am to deliver ! 
 Prince John your son doth kiss your Grace's hand. 
 Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings and all 
 Are brought to the correction of your law. 85 
 
 There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, 
 But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere. 
 The manner how this action hath been borne 
 Here at more leisure may your Highness read, 
 With every course in his particular. 90 
 
 King. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, 
 Which ever in the haunch of winter sings 
 The lifting up of day. 
 
 Enter Harcourt. 
 
 Look, here's more news. 
 Har. From enemies heaven keep your Majesty ; 
 
sc. iv jjenn? tlje jfourtlj, JjOatt 3131 109 
 
 And, when they stand against you, may they fall 
 As those ^that I am come to tell you of ! 96 
 
 The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, 
 With a great power of English and of Scots, 
 Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown. 
 The manner and true order of the fight 100 
 
 This packet, please it you, contains at large. 
 
 King. And wherefore should these good news make 
 
 me sick ? 
 
 Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 
 But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? 
 She either gives a stomach and no food ; 105 
 
 Such are the poor, in health ; or else a feast 
 And takes away the stomach ; such are the rich, 
 That have abundance and enjoy it not. 
 I should rejoice now at this happy news ; 
 And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy. 
 O me ! come near me ; now I am much ill. Ill 
 
 Glou. Comfort, your Majesty ! 
 
 Clar. O my royal father ! 
 
 West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up. 
 
 War. Be patient, Princes ; you do know, these fits 
 Are with his Highness very ordinary. 115 
 
 Stand from him, give him air. He'll straight be well. 
 
 Clar. No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs. 
 The incessant care and labour of his mind 
 Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in 
 So thin that life looks through [and will break out]. 
 
no tyenri? tlje jfourtf), part 301 Activ 
 
 Glou. The people fear me ; for they do observe 121 
 
 Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature. 
 
 The seasons change their manners, as the year 
 
 Had found some months asleep and leaped them 
 
 over. 
 Clar. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between ; 
 
 And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, 126 
 
 Say it did so a little time before 
 
 That our great-grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died. 
 Wor. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers. 
 Glou. This apoplexy will certain be his end. 130 
 
 King. I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence 
 
 Into some other chamber. [Softly, pray.] 
 
 [Exeunt. The King is borne out.] 
 
 SCENE V 
 
 [Another chamber. 
 
 The King lying on a bed: Clarence, Gloucester, War- 
 wick, and others in attendance] 
 
 King. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends ; 
 Unless some dull and favourable hand 
 Will whisper music to my weary spirit. 
 
 Wor. Call for the music in the other room. 
 
 King. Set me the crown upon my pillow here. 5 
 
 Clar. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. 
 
 War. Less noise, less noise ! 
 
sc. v tymvt> fyt jfourtk JJDart 3131 m 
 
 Enter Prince Henry. 
 
 Prince. Who saw the Duke of Clarence ? 
 
 Clar. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. 
 Prince. How now ! ram within doors, and none 
 abroad ! 
 
 How doth the King ? 10 
 
 Glou. Exceeding ill. 
 Prince. Heard he the good news yet ? 
 
 Tell it him. 
 
 Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it. 
 Prince. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without 
 
 physic. 15 
 
 War. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet Prince, 
 speak low ; 
 
 The King, your father, is dispos'd to sleep. 
 Clar. Let us withdraw into the other room. 
 War. WilPt please your Grace to go along with us ? 
 Prince. No ; I will sit and watch here by the King. 20 
 
 [Exeunt all but the Prince.] 
 
 Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, 
 
 Being so troublesome a bedfellow ? 
 
 O polish'd perturbation ! golden care ! 
 
 That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide 
 
 To many a watchful night ! Sleep with it now ! 
 
 Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet 26 
 
 As he whose brow with homely biggen bound 
 
 Snores out the watch of night. O majesty ! 
 
 < fl \ " 
 
H2 tymry tty Jfourtt), ^)art 3131 Act iv 
 
 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit 
 Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, 30 
 
 That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath 
 There lies a downy feather which stirs not. 
 Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
 Perforce must move. My gracious lord ! my 
 
 father ! 
 
 This sleep is sound indeed ; this is a sleep 35 
 
 That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd 
 So many English kings. Thy due from me 
 Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, 
 Which nature, love, and filial tenderness 
 Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously. 40 
 
 My due from thee is this imperial crown, 
 Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, 
 Derives itself to me. [Puts on the crown.] Lo, 
 
 where it sits, 
 Which God shall guard ; and put the world's 
 
 whole strength 
 
 Into one giant arm, it shall not force 45 
 
 This lineal honour from me. This from thee 
 Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. Exit. 
 
 King. Warwick ! Gloucester ! Clarence ! 
 
 Re-enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence [and the rest]. 
 
 Clar. Doth the King call ? 
 
 War. What would your Majesty? [How fares your 
 Grace?] 50 
 
sc. v sjenn? flje jfourt^ part 3131 113 
 
 King. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords ? 
 Clar. We lefjLthe Prince my brother here, my liege, 
 
 Who undertook to sit and watch by you. 
 King. The Prince of Wales ! Where is he ? Let me 
 
 see him. 
 
 He is not here. 55 
 
 War. This door is open ; he is gone this way. 
 Glou. He came not through the chamber where we 
 
 stay'd. 
 King. Where is the crown ? Who took it from my 
 
 pillow ? 
 
 War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. 
 King. The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go, seek him 
 out. 60 
 
 Is he so hasty that he doth suppose 
 My sleep my death ? 
 
 Find him, my Lord of Warwick ; chide him hither. 
 
 [Exit Warwick.] 
 
 This part of his conjoins with my disease, 
 And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you 
 are ! 65 
 
 How quickly nature falls into revolt 
 When gold becomes her object ! 
 For this the foolish over-careful fathers 
 Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains 
 
 with care, 
 
 Their bones with industry ; 70 
 
 For this they have engrossed and pil'd up 
 I 
 
H4 tytntv tl)e jFomtl), ]|Dart 3131 Act iv 
 
 The cank'red heaps of strange-achieved gold ; 
 For this they have been thoughtful to invest 
 Their sons with arts and martial exercises ; 
 When, like the bee, tolling from every flower 75 
 [The virtuous sweets], 
 Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with 
 
 honey, 
 
 We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees, 
 Are murd'red for our pains. This bitter taste 
 Yields his engrossments to the ending father. 80 
 
 Re-enter Warwick. 
 
 Now, where is he that will not stay so long 
 Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me ? 
 
 War. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room, 
 Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks, 
 With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow , 85 
 That Tyranny, which never quaffd but blood, 
 Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife 
 With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither. 
 
 King. But wherefore did he take away the crown ? 
 
 Re-enter Prince Harry. 
 
 Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry. 
 
 Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. 91 
 
 Exeunt [Warwick and the rest]. 
 Prince. I never thought to hear you speak again. 
 King. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. 
 
sc. v tyntry tlje jfourtl), part 3131 us 
 
 I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. 
 
 Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair 95 
 
 That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine 
 
 honours 
 
 Before thy hour be ripe ? O foolish youth ! 
 Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm 
 
 thee. 
 
 Stay but a little ; for my cloud of dignity 
 Is held from falling with so weak a wind 100 
 
 That it will quickly drop. My day is dim. 
 Thou hast stolen that which after some few hours 
 Were thine without offence ; and at my death 
 Thou hast seal'd up my expectation. 
 Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not, 105 
 And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it. 
 Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, 
 Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, 
 To stab at half an hour of my life. 
 What ! canst thou not forbear me half an hour ? 
 Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself, 111 
 And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear 
 That thou art crowned, not that I am dead. 
 Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse 
 Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head ; lla 
 
 Only compound me with forgotten dust ; 
 Give that which gave thee life unto the worms. 
 Pluck down my officers, break my decrees ; 
 For now a time is come to mock at form. 
 
n6 Sjntri? ttje Jfourrt), part 3131 Act iv 
 
 I Harry the Fifth is crown'd ! Up, vanity ! 120 
 Down, royal state ! All you sage counsellors, hence ! 
 And to the English court assemble now, 
 From every region, apes of idleness ! 
 Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum ! 
 Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, 
 Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit 126 
 The oldest sins the newest kind of ways ? 
 Be happy, he will trouble you no more. 
 England shall double gild his treble guilt, 
 England shall give him office, honour, might ; 130 
 For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks 
 The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog 
 Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. \ 
 
 my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows ! 
 When that my care could not withhold thy riots, 
 What wilt thou do when riot is thy care ? 136 
 O, thou wilt be a wilderness again, 
 
 Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants ! 
 Prince. O, pardon me, my liege ! but for my tears, 
 The moist impediments unto my speech, 140 
 
 1 had forestalled this dear and deep rebuke 
 Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard 
 The course of it so far. There is your crown ; 
 And He that wears the crown immortally 
 
 Long guard it yours ! If I affect it more 145 
 
 Than as your honour and as your renown, 
 
 Let me no more from this obedience rise, [Kneels.] 
 
sc. v tymtv tty jFourtlj, ^art 3131 
 
 Which my most inward, true, and duteous spirit 
 Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending. 
 God witness with me, when I here came in, 150 
 And found no course of breath within your 
 
 Majesty, 
 
 How cold it struck my heart ! If I do feign, 
 O, let me in my present wildness die 
 And never live to show the incredulous world 
 The noble change that I have purposed ! 155 
 
 Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, 
 And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, 
 I spake unto this crown as having sense, 
 And thus upbraided it: "The care on thee de- 
 
 pending 
 
 Hath fed upon the body of my father ; 160 
 
 Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold. 
 Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, 
 Preserving life in medicine potable ; 
 But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most re- 
 
 nown'd, 
 Hast eat thy bearer up." Thus, my most royal 
 
 liege, 1 165 
 
 Accusing it, I put it on my head, 
 To try with it, as with an enemy 
 That had before my face murd'red my father, 
 The quarrel of a true inheritor. 
 But if it did infect my blood with joy, 170 
 
 Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride ; 
 
us H?enr tty jfourtlj, part 3131 Act iv 
 
 If any rebel or vain spirit of mine 
 Did with the least affection of a welcome 
 Give entertainment to the might of it, 
 Let God for ever keep it from my head 175 
 
 And make me as the poorest vassal is 
 That doth with awe and terror kneel to it ! 
 King. [O my son,] 
 
 God put it in thy mind to take it hence, 
 That thou mightst win the more thy father's love, 
 Pleading so wisely in excuse of it ! 181 
 
 Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed ; 
 And hear, I think, the very latest counsel 
 f That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son, 
 By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways 185 
 
 I met this crown ; and I myself know well 
 
 How troublesome it sat upon my head. 
 
 To thee it shall descend with better quiet, 
 
 Better opinion, better confirmation ; 
 
 For all the soil of the achievement goes 190 
 
 With me into the earth. It seem'd in me 
 
 But as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand, 
 
 And I had many living to upbraid 
 
 My gain of it by their assistances ; 
 
 Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed, 195 
 
 Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears 
 
 Thou see'st with peril I have answered ; 
 
 For all my reign hath been but as a scene 
 
 Acting that argument ; and now my death 
 
sc. v j^enr^ ttje jfourtl), part 3|3i 119 
 
 J\ 
 
 Changes the mode ; for what in me was pur- 
 
 chas^dT^ 200 
 
 Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort ; 
 So thou the garland wear'st successively. 
 Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could 
 
 do, 
 
 Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green ; 
 And all [my] friends, which thou must make thy 
 
 friends, 205 
 
 Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out ; 
 By whose fell working I was first ad vane* d 
 And by whose power I well might lodge a fear 
 To be again displac'd ; which to avoid, 
 I cut them off ; and had a purpose now 210 
 
 To lead out many to the Holy Land, 
 Lest rest and lying still might make them look 
 Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, 
 Be it thy course to busy giddy minds 
 With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne 
 
 out, 215 
 
 May waste the memory of the former days. 
 More would I, but my lungs are wasted so 
 That strength of speech is utterly deni'd me. 
 How I came by the crown, O God forgive ; 
 , And grant it may with thee in true peace live ! 220 
 Prince. [My gracious liege,] 
 
 You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me ; 
 Then plain and right must my possession be, 
 
120 Sjenry tije jfourtl}, ]]3arc 3131 Act iv 
 
 Which I with more than with a common pain 
 'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain. 225 
 
 Enter Lord John of Lancaster and Warwick. 
 
 King. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. 
 Lan. Health, peace, and happiness to my royal 
 
 father ! 
 
 King. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son 
 John ; 
 
 But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown 
 
 From this bare wither'd trunk. Upon thy sight 
 
 My worldly business makes a period. 231 
 
 Where is my Lord of Warwick ? 
 
 Prince. My Lord of Warwick ! 
 
 King. Doth any name particular belong 
 
 Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ? 
 War. 'Tis calFd Jerusalem, my noble lord. 235 
 
 King. Laud be to God ! even there my life must 
 end. 
 
 It hath been prophesi'd to me many years, 
 
 I should not die but in Jerusalem ; 
 
 Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land. 
 
 But bear me to that chamber ; there I'll lie ; 240 
 
 In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt. 
 
ACT FIFTH 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 [Gloucestershire. Shallow's house.] 
 Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Shal. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away 
 to-night. What, Davy, I say ! 
 
 Fal. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shal- 
 low. 
 
 Shal. I will not excuse you ; you shall not be 5 
 excus'd ; excuses shall not be admitted ; 
 there is no excuse shall serve ; you shall not 
 be excus'd. Why, Davy ! 
 
 [Enter Davy.] 
 Davy. Here, sir. 
 Shal. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, 10 
 
 Davy ; let me see, Davy ; let me see. Yea, 
 
 marry, William cook, bid him come hither. 
 
 Sir John, you shall not be excus'd. 
 Davy. Marry, sir, thus ; those precepts cannot 
 
 be serv'd ; and, again, sir, shall we sow the 15 
 
 headland with wheat ? 
 
122 tyenn? t|ie jfourtt), ^part 313 Actv 
 
 With red wheat, Davy. But for William 
 
 cook : are there no young pigeons ? 
 Davy. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note 
 
 for shoeing and plough-irons. 20 
 
 Shal. Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall 
 
 not be excus'd. 
 Davy. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must 
 
 needs be had ; and, sir, do you mean to stop 
 
 any of William's wages, about the sack he 25 
 
 lost [the other day] at Hinckley fair ? 
 Shal. 'A shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, 
 
 a couple of short-legg'd hens, a joint of mutton, 
 
 and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell 
 
 William cook. 30 
 
 Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, 
 
 sir? 
 Shal. Yea, Davy ; I will use him well. A friend 
 
 i' the court is better than a penny in purse. 
 
 Use his men well, Davy ; for they are arrant 35 
 
 knaves, and will backbite. 
 Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir ; 
 
 for they have marvellous foul linen. 
 Shal. Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, 
 
 Davy. 40 
 
 Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William 
 
 Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes o' 
 
 the hill. 
 Shal. There is many complaints, Davy, against 
 
sc. i tyenrg tlje jfourtl), part 5131 123 
 
 that Visor. That Visor is an arrant knave, 46 
 on my knowledge. 
 
 Davy. I grant your worship that he is a knave, 
 sir ; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave 
 should have some countenance at his friend's 
 request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak 50 
 for himself, when a knave is not. I have 
 serv'd your worship truly, sir, this eight 
 years ; and if I cannot once or twice in a quar- 
 ter bear out a knave against an honest man, I 
 have [but a very] little credit with your wor- 55 
 ship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir ; 
 therefore, I beseech you, let him be counte- 
 nanc'd. 
 
 Shal. Go to ; I say he shall have no wrong. Look 
 
 about, Davy. [Exit Davy.] Where are you, 60 
 Sir John ? Come, come, come, off with your 
 boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph. 
 
 Bard. I am glad to see your worship. 
 
 Shal. I thank thee with [all] my heart, kind Master 
 
 Bardoiph : and welcome, my tall fellow [to 65 
 the Page]. Come, Sir John. 
 
 Fal. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. 
 [Exit Shallow.] Bardolph, look to our horses. 
 [Exeunt Bardolph and Page.] If I were saw'd 
 into quantities, I should make four dozen of 70 
 such bearded hermits' staves as Master 
 Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the 
 
124 ?enn? tlje jfourtij, ]part 3131 Act v 
 
 semblable coherence of his men's spirits and 
 his. They, by observing [of] him, do bear 
 themselves like foolish justices ; he, by con- 75 
 versing with them, is turn'd into a justice- 
 like serving-man. Their spirits are so married 
 in conjunction with the participation of society 
 that they flock together in consent, like so 
 many wild-geese. If I had a suit to Master 
 Shallow, I would humour his men with the 80 
 imputation of being near their master ; if to 
 his men, I would curry with Master Shallow 
 that no man could better command his ser- 
 vants. It is certain that either wise bearing 
 or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take 85 
 diseases, one of another ; therefore let men 
 take heed of their company. I will devise 
 matter enough out of this Shallow to keep 
 Prince Harry in continual laughter the wear- 
 ing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or 
 two actions, and 'a shall laugh without inter- 90 
 vallums. O, it is much that a lie with a 
 slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do 
 with a fellow that never had the ache. in his 
 shoulders ! O, you shall see him laugh till his 
 face be like a wet cloak ill laid up. 95 
 
 Shal. [Within.] Sir John ! 
 
 Fal. I come, Master Shallow ; I come, Master 
 
 Shallow. Exit. 
 
sc. ii tymtv t\)t jFcurtl), JjDatt 3131 125 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 [Westminster. The palace.] 
 Enter Warwick and the Lard Chief Justice [meeting]. 
 
 War. How now, my Lord Chief Justice ! whither 
 away? 
 
 Ch. Just. How doth the King ? 
 
 War. Exceeding well ; his cares are now all ended. 
 
 Ch. Just. I hope, not dead. 
 
 War. He's walk'd the way of nature ; 
 
 And to our purposes he lives no more. 5 
 
 Ch. Just. I would his Majesty had calFd me with him. 
 The service that I truly did his life 
 Hath left me open to all injuries. 
 
 War. Indeed I think the young King loves you not. 
 
 Ch. Just. I know he doth not, and do arm myself 10 
 To welcome the condition of the time, 
 Which cannot look more hideously upon me 
 Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. 
 
 Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester [Westmoreland, and 
 others]. 
 
 War. Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry : 
 
 O that the living Harry had the temper 15 
 
 Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen ! 
 How many nobles then should hold their places, 
 That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort ! 
 
126 tynrry rtje Jfourrij, part 3131 Act v 
 
 Ch. Just. O God, I fear all will be over-turn'd ! 
 
 Lan. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. 20 
 
 Glou. \ , 
 
 > Good morrow, cousin. 
 
 Clar. 
 
 Lan. We meet like men that had forgot to speak. 
 
 War. We do remember ; but our argument 
 
 Is all too heavy to admit much talk. 
 Lan. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy ! 
 Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier ! 26 
 Glou. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed ; 
 
 And I dare swear you borrow not that face 
 
 Of seeming sorrow ; it is sure your own. 
 Lan. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find, 30 
 
 You stand in coldest expectation. 
 
 I am the sorrier ; would 'twere otherwise ! 
 Clar. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair ; 
 
 Which swims against your stream of quality. 
 Ch. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour, 35 
 
 Led by the impartial conduct of my soul ; 
 
 And never shall you see that I will beg 
 
 A ragged and forestalled remission. 
 
 If truth and upright innocency fail me, 
 
 I'll to the King my master that is dead, 40 
 
 And tell him who hath sent me after him. 
 War. Here comes the Prince. 
 
 Enter King Henry the Fifth [attended]. 
 Ch. Just. Good morrow ; and God save your Majesty ! 
 
Sc. ii lenn? tfte Jfourtti, JjOart 3131 127 
 
 King. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty, 
 
 Sits not^reasy on me as you think. 45 
 
 Brothers, you mix your sadness with some 
 
 fear. 
 
 This is the English, not the Turkish court ; 
 Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, 
 But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, 
 For, by my faith, it very well becomes you. 50 
 Sorrow so royally in you appears 
 That I will deeply put the fashion on 
 And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad ; 
 J3ut entertain no more of it, good brothers, 
 Than a joint burden laid upon us all. 55 
 
 For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd, 
 I'll be your father and your brother too. 
 Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares. 
 Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I ; 
 But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears 60 
 By number into hours of happiness. 
 
 Princes. We hope no other from your Majesty. 
 
 King. You all look strangely on me, and you most. 
 You are, I think, assur'd I love you not. 
 
 Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly, 65 
 Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me. 
 
 King. No? 
 
 How might a prince of my great hopes forget 
 
 So great indignities you laid upon me ? 
 
 What ! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison 70 
 
128 s?mn? fyt jFourti), part 3131 Act v 
 
 The immediate heir of England ! Was this easy ? 
 May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten ? 
 Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father ; 
 The image of his power lay then in me ; 
 And, in the administration of his law, 75 
 
 Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, 
 Your Highness pleased to forget my place, 
 The majesty and power of law and justice, 
 The image of the King whom I presented, 
 And struck me in my very seat of judgement ; 80 
 Whereon, as an offender to your father, 
 I gave bold way to my authority 
 And did commit you. If the deed were ill, 
 Be you contented, wearing now the garland, 
 To have a son set your decrees at nought ? 85 
 To pluck down justice from your awful bench ? 
 To trip the course of law and blunt the sword 
 That guards the peace and safety of your person ? 
 Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image 
 And mock your workings in a second body ? 90 
 Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours : 
 Be now the father and propose a son, 
 Hear your own dignity so much profan'd, 
 See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, 
 Behold yourself so by a son disdained ; 95 
 
 And then imagine me taking your part 
 And in your power soft silencing your son. 
 After this cold considerance, sentence me ; 
 
Sc. ii 8?enri? tlje jfourtl), ||Dart 3131 129 
 
 And, as you are a king, speak in your state 
 What J -have done that misbecame my place, 100 
 My person, or my liege's sovereignty. 
 King. You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well, 
 Therefore still bear the balance and the sword ; 
 And I do wish your honours may increase, 
 Till you do live to see a son of mine 105 
 
 Offend you and obey you, as I did. 
 So shall I live to speak my father's words : 
 "Happy am I, that have a man so bold, 
 That dares do justice on my proper son ; 
 And not less happy, having such a son 110 
 
 That would deliver up his greatness so 
 Into the hands of justice." You did commit me ; 
 For which, I do commit into your hand 
 The unstained sword that you have us'd to bear ; 
 With this remembrance, that you use the same 115 
 With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit 
 As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand. 
 You shall be as a father to my youth, 
 My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, 
 And I will stoop and humble my intents 120 
 
 To your well-practis'd wise directions. 
 And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you, 
 My father is gone wild into his grave, 
 For in his tomb lie my affections ; 
 And with his spirit sadly I survive, 125 
 
 To mock the expectation of the world, 
 K 
 
130 tyenrs tlje jfourrtj, part 3131 Actv 
 
 To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out 
 Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down 
 After my seeming. The tide of blood in me 
 Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now : 180 
 
 Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, 
 Where it shall mingle with the state of floods 
 And flow henceforth in formal majesty. 
 Now call we our high court of parliament ; 
 And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, 135 
 That the great body of our state may go 
 In equal rank with the best govern'd nation ; 
 That war, or peace, or both at once, may be 
 As things acquainted and familiar to us ; 
 In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. 
 Our coronation done, we will accite, 1*-^ ^^ 141 
 As I before rememb'red, all our state ; 
 And, God consigning to my good intents, 
 No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, 
 God shorten Harry's happy life one day ! 145 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 [Gloucestershire. Shallow's orchard.] 
 
 Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, Bardolph, and the 
 Page. 
 
 Shal. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an 
 arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of mine 
 
Sc. HI ^enrs rtje jfourtl), JDart 3(31 131 
 
 own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so 
 
 forth, come, cousin Silence, and then to 
 
 bed. 5 
 
 Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling 
 
 and a rich. 
 Shal. Barren, barren, barren ; beggars all, beggars 
 
 all, Sir John : marry, good air. Spread, Davy ; 
 
 spread, Davy. Well said, Davy. 10 
 
 Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses ; he is 
 
 your serving-man and your husband. 
 Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good var- 
 
 let, Sir John. By the mass, I have drunk too 
 
 much sack at supper. A good varlet. Now 15 
 
 sit down, now sit down. Come, cousin. 
 Sil. Ah, sirrah ! quoth-a, we shall 
 
 [Singing.] 
 
 "Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, 
 
 And praise God for the merry year, 
 
 When flesh is cheap and females dear, 20 
 
 And lusty lads roam here and there 
 So merrily, 
 
 And ever among so merrily." 
 Fal. There's a merry heart ! Good Master Silence, 
 
 I'll give you a health for that anon. 25 
 
 ShaL Give Master Bardolph some wine, 
 
 Davy. 
 Davy. Sweet sir, sit ; I'll be with you anon ; most 
 
 sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master page, 
 
132 n?ntr ttje jfouttl), part 3131 Actv 
 
 sit. Preface ! What you want in meat, 30 
 we'll have in drink ; but you must bear. The 
 heart's all. [Exit.] 
 
 Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph ; and, my little 
 
 soldier there, be merry. 
 
 Sil. [Singing.] "Be merry, be merry, my wife has all ; 
 For women are shrews, both short and tall. 36 
 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all, 
 
 And welcome merry Shrove-tide. 
 Be merry, be merry." 
 Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been a man 40 
 
 of this mettle. 
 
 Sil. Who ? I ? I have been merry twice and once 
 ere now. 
 
 Re-enter Davy. 
 
 Davy. There's a dish of leather-coats for you. 
 
 [To Bardolph.] 
 
 Shal. Davy! 45 
 
 Davy. Your worship ! I'll be with you straight. A 
 
 cup of wine, sir ? 
 
 Sil. [Singing.] "A cup of wine that's brisk and fine, 
 And drink unto the leman mine ; 
 
 And a merry heart lives long-a." 50 
 
 Fal. Well said, Master Silence. 
 Sil. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet 
 
 o' the night. 
 
 Fal Health and long life to you, Master Si- 
 lence. 55 
 
sc. HI tytmy t\)t 5Fourtl) t part 3131 133 
 
 Sil. [Singing.] "Fill the cup, and let it come ; 
 I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom." 
 Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome. If thou want'st 
 
 anything, and wilt not call, beshrew thy 
 
 heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief [to the 60 
 
 Page], and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to 
 
 Master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros 
 
 about London. 
 
 Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die. 
 Bard. An I might see you there, Davy, 65 
 
 Shal. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together, 
 
 ha ! will you not, Master Bardolph ? 
 Bard. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. 
 Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave 
 
 will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. 'A 70 
 
 will not out ; he is true bred. 
 Bard. And I'll stick by him, sir. 
 
 One knocks at door. 
 Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing ; be 
 
 merry ! Look who's at door there. Ho ! 
 
 who knocks ? [Exit Davy.] 
 
 Fal. Why, now you have done me right. 76 
 
 [To Silence, seeing him take off a bumper.] 
 SiL [Singing.] "Do me right, 
 
 And dub me knight : 
 S'amingo." 
 
 Is't not so ? 80 
 
 Fal. 'Tisso. 
 
134 H?enr t\)t Ifourtft, pare 3131 Act v 
 
 Sil. Is't so ? Why then, say an old man can do 
 somewhat. 
 
 [Re-enter Davy.] 
 
 Davy. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol 
 
 come from the court with news. 85 
 
 Fal. From the court ! Let him come in. 
 
 Enter Pistol 
 
 How now, Pistol ! 
 Pist. Sir John, God save you ! 
 Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol ? 
 Pist . Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. 90 
 
 Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest 
 
 men in this realm. 
 Sil. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of 
 
 Barson. 
 Pist. Puff! 95 
 
 Puff i' thy teeth, most recreant coward base ! 
 
 Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, 
 
 And helter-skelter have I rode to thee, 
 
 And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys 
 
 And golden times and happy news of price. 100 
 Fal. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of 
 
 this world. 
 Pist. A foutra for the world and worldlings base ! 
 
 I speak of Africa and golden joys. 
 Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news ? 105 
 
 Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. 
 
sc. HI ^ntrp tlje jF ourtl), part 301 135 
 
 SiL [Singing.] 
 
 " AndTRobin Hood, Scarlet, and John." 
 
 Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons ? 
 And shall good news be baffled ? 
 Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. 110 
 
 SiL Honest gentleman, I know not your breed- 
 ing. 
 
 Pist. Why then, lament therefore. 
 
 Skal. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with 
 
 news from the court, I take it there's but two 115 
 ways, either to utter them, or to conceal them. 
 I am, sir, under the King, in some author- 
 ity. 
 
 Pist. Under which king, Besonian ? Speak, or die. 119 
 
 Shal. Under King Harry. 
 
 Pist. Harry the Fourth or Fifth ? 
 
 Skal. Harry the Fourth. 
 
 Pist. A foutra for thine office ! 
 
 Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king ; 
 Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth. 
 When Pistol lies, do this, and fig me like 
 The bragging Spaniard. 125 ' 
 
 Fal. What, is the old king dead ? 
 
 Pist. As nail in door. The things I speak are just. 
 
 Fal. Away, Bardolph ! saddle my horse. Master 
 Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt 
 in the land,' 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double- 130 
 charge thee with dignities. 
 
136 tymvg ti)t jfourct), JjDart 3131 Actv 
 
 Bard. O joyful day ! 
 
 I would not take a knighthood for my fortune. 
 
 Pist. What ! I do bring good news. 
 
 Fal. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shal- 135 
 low, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt ; I 
 am Fortune's steward get on thy boots. We'll 
 ride all night. O sweet Pistol ! Away, Bardolph ! 
 [Exit Bard.] Come, Pistol, utter more to me ; 
 and withal devise something to do thyself good. 140 
 Boot, boot, Master Shallow ! I know the 
 young king is sick for me. Let us take any 
 man's horses ; the laws of England are at my 
 commandment. Blessed are they that have been 
 my friends ; and woe to my Lord Chief Justice ! 145 
 
 Pist. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also ! 
 "Where is the life that late I led ?" say they. 
 Why here it is ; welcome these pleasant days ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 [London. A street.] 
 
 Enter Beadles, [dragging in] Hostess Quickly and Doll 
 Tearsheet. 
 
 Host. No, thou arrant knave ; I would to God that 
 I might die, that I might have thee hang'd. 
 Thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint. 
 
 1. Bead. The constables have deliver'd her over 
 
sc. iv n?enrp 0)t jfourtl), put 3)31 137 
 
 to me ; and she shall have whipping-cheer 5 
 enough, I warrant her. There hath been a man 
 or two lately kill'd about her. 
 
 Dol. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on ! I'll 
 tell thee what, thou damn'd tripe-visag'd 
 rascal, an the child I now go with do mis- 10 
 carry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy 
 mother, thou paper-fac'd villain ! 
 
 Host. O the Lord, that Sir John were come ! He 
 would make this a bloody day to somebody. 
 But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry. 15 
 
 1. Bead. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions 
 again ; you have but eleven now. Come, 
 I charge you both go with me ; for the man is 
 dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you. 
 
 Dol. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, 20 
 I will have you as soundly swinged for this, 
 you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famish'd cor- 
 rectioner, if you be not swinged, I'll forswear 
 half-kirtles. 
 
 1. Bead. Come, come, you she knight-errant, 25 
 come. 
 
 Host. O God, that right should thus overcome 
 might ! Well, of sufferance comes ease. 
 
 Dol. Come, you rogue, come ; bring me to a jus- 
 tice. 30 
 
 Host. Ay, come, you starv'd blood-hound. 
 
 Dol. Goodman death, goodman bones ! 
 
i3 ^ntr? t\)t jfourtt), part 331 Act v 
 
 Host. Thou atomy, thou ! 
 
 Dol. Come, you thin thing ; come, you rascal. 
 
 1. Bead. Very well. Exeunt. 35 
 
 SCENE V 
 
 [A public place near Westminster Abbey.] 
 Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes. 
 
 1. Groom. More rushes, more rushes. 
 
 2. Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice. 
 
 1. Groom. 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come from 
 the coronation. Dispatch, dispatch. Exeunt. 
 
 Trumpets sound, and the King and his train pass over 
 the stage. After them enter Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol, 
 Bardolph, and Page. 
 
 Fal. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow ; 5 
 I will make the King do you grace. I will 
 leer upon him as he comes by ; and do but 
 mark the countenance that he will give me. 
 
 Pist. God bless thy lungs, good knight. 
 
 Fal. Come here, Pistol ; stand behind me. O, if I 10 
 had had time to have made new liveries, I 
 would have bestowed the thousand pound I 
 borrowed of you. But 'tis no matter ; this 
 poor show doth better ; this doth infer the zeal 
 I had to see him. 15 
 
sc. v ienn? tty jFourrtj, JDart 3131 139 
 
 [Shal] It doth so. 
 
 Fal. It shows niy earnestness of affection, 
 
 Shal. It doth so. 
 
 Fal. My devotion, 
 
 Shal. It doth, it doth, it doth. 20 
 
 Fal. As it were, to ride day and night ; and not to 
 deliberate, not to remember, not to have 
 patience to shift me, 
 
 Shal. It is best, certain. 
 
 [Fal.] But to stand stained with travel, and sweat- 25 
 ing with desire to see him ; thinking of noth- 
 ing else, putting all affairs else in oblivion, as 
 if there were nothing else to be done but to see 
 him. 
 
 Pist. 'Tis "semper idem" for "obsque hoc nihil est" SO 
 'Tis all in every part. 
 
 Shal. Tis so, indeed. 
 
 Pist. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, 
 And make thee rage. 
 
 Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts, 35 
 Is in base durance and contagious prison ; 
 Hal'd thither 
 
 By most mechanical and dirty hand. 
 Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's 
 snake, 39 
 
 For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth. 
 
 Fal. I will deliver her. 
 
 Pist. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. 
 
140 lentil? tfc jfourtfc, piw 131 Act v 
 
 The trumpets sound. Enter the King and his train, the 
 Lord Chief Justice among them. 
 
 Fal. God save thy Grace, King Hal ! my royal 
 Hal! 
 
 Pist. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal 45 
 imp of fame ! 
 
 Fal. God save thee, my sweet boy ! 
 
 King. My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man. 
 
 Ch. Just. Have you your wits ? Know you what 'tis 
 you speak ? 49 
 
 Fal. My king ! my Jove ! I speak to thee, my heart ! 
 
 King. I know thee not, old man ; fall to thy prayers. 
 How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! 
 I have long dream'd of such a kind of man, 
 So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane ; 
 But, being awak'd, I do despise my dream. 55 
 Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace ; 
 Leave gormandizing ; know the grave doth gape 
 For thee thrice wider than for other men. 
 Reply not to me with a fool-born jest. 
 Presume not that I am the thing I was ; 60 
 
 For God doth know, so shall the world perceive, 
 That I have turn'd away my former self ; 
 So will I those that kept me company. 
 When thou dost hear I am as I have been, 
 Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast, 65 
 The tutor and the feeder of my riots ; 
 
sc. v tytmv tty jFourtl), jpart 3131 141 
 
 Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death, 
 
 As I havefdone the rest of my misleaders, 
 
 Not to come near our person by ten mile. 
 
 For competence of life I will allow you, 70 
 
 That lack of means enforce you not to evils ; 
 
 And, as we hear you do reform yourselves, 
 
 We will, according to your strengths and qualities, 
 
 Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my 
 
 lord, 
 
 To see perform'd the tenour of my word. 75 
 
 Set on. Exeunt King [etc.]. 
 
 Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand 
 pound. 
 
 Shdl. Yea, marry, Sir John ; which I beseech you 
 
 to let me have home with me. 80 
 
 Fal. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not 
 you grieve at this ; I shall be sent for in pri- 
 vate to him. Look you, he must seem thus to 
 the world. Fear not your advancements ; I 
 will be the man yet that shall make you great. 85 
 
 Shal. I cannot well perceive how, unless you should 
 give me your doublet and stuff me out with 
 straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let 
 me have five hundred of my thousand. 
 
 Fal. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that 90 
 you heard was but a colour. 
 
 Shal. A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir 
 John. 
 
142 jjmrp tlje JFourflj, part 3(31 Act v 
 
 Fal. Fear no colours ; go with me to dinner. 
 
 Come, Lieutenant Pistol ; come, Bardolph. 95 
 I shall be sent for soon at night. 
 
 Re-enter Prince John, the Lord Chief Justice [Officers 
 with them], 
 
 Ch. Just. Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet. 
 Take all his company along with him. 
 
 Fal. My lord, my lord, 
 
 Ch. Just. I cannot now speak ; I will hear you soon. 
 Take them away. 101 
 
 Pist. Sifortuna me tormenta, spera contenta. 
 
 Exeunt all but Prince John and the Chief 
 Justice. 
 
 Lan. I like this fair proceeding of the King's. 
 He hath intent his wonted followers 
 Shall all be very well provided for ; 105 
 
 But all are banish'd till their conversations 
 Appear more wise and modest to the world. 
 
 Ch. Just. And so they are. 
 
 Lan. The King hath calPd his parliament, my lord. 
 
 Ch. Just. He hath. 110 
 
 Lan. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire, 
 We bear our civil swords and native fire 
 As far as France. I heard a bird so sing, 
 Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the King. 
 Come, will you hence ? Exeunt. 115 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 [Spoken by a Dancer.] 
 
 First my fear ; then my curtsy ; last my 
 speech. My fear is, your displeasure ; my 
 curtsy, my duty ; and my speech, to beg your 
 pardons. If you look for a good speech now, 
 you undo me ; for what I have to say is of mine 5 
 own making ; and what indeed I should say 
 will, I doubt, prove mine own marring. But 
 to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it 
 known to you, as it is very well, I was lately 
 here in the end of a displeasing play, to pray 10 
 your patience for it and to promise you a bet- 
 ter. I meant indeed to pay you with this ; 
 which, if like an ill venture it come unluckily 
 home, I break, and you, my gentle creditors, 
 lose. Here I promis'd you I would be, and here 
 I commit my body to your mercies. Bate 15 
 me some and I will pay you some and, as 
 most debtors do, promise you infinitely. 
 
 If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit 
 me, will you command me to use my legs ? 
 And yet that were but light payment, to dance 20 
 out of your debt. But a good conscience will 
 make any possible satisfaction, and so would 
 143 
 
144 ^nttE tt)* jfourtl), part 3131 Act v 
 
 I. All the gentlewomen here have forgiven 
 me ; if the gentlemen will not, then the gentle- 
 men do not agree with the gentlewomen, which 5 
 was never seen before in such an assembly. 
 
 One word more, I beseech you. If you be 
 not too much cloy'd with fat meat, our humble 
 author will continue the story, with Sir John 
 in it, and make you merry with fair Katharine 
 of France ; where, for anything I know, 30 
 Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already 'a 
 be kill'd with your hard opinions ; for Old- 
 castle died a martyr, and this is not the man. 
 My tongue is weary ; when my legs are too, I 
 will bid you good night ; and so kneel down 35 
 before you ; but, indeed, to pray for the Queen. 
 
Induction. In the Folio this is marked " Actus 
 Primus. Serena Prima. Induction" and the first act 
 contains four scenes. The Quarto is not divided into acts 
 and scenes. Except when noted, this text follows the divfcv 
 sion of the Folio. 
 
 Warkworth. Place-directions are supplied by modern 
 editors, with the exception of that prefixed to Act IV. sc. i. 
 q.v. Warkworth in Northumberland came into the pos- 
 session of the Percy family in the reign of Edward III, and 
 is still held by the Earl of Northumberland. 
 
 Rumour, painted full of tongues. A common Eliza- 
 bethan conception, derived from Vergil's description of 
 Fama, JEneid, IV. 173. 
 
 15. And (there is) no such matter ? 
 
 24-27. Cf. 1 Henry IV, V. iv. 
 
 37. crafty-sick. This skillful compound suggests that 
 Hotspur had cause for the irritation so vigorously expressed 
 in 1 Henry 77, IV. i. 17, 28. 
 
 I. i. 13. God. Changed in the Folio to "heavens," 
 as in many other cases, because of the statute forbidding 
 profanity on the stage. 
 
 I. i. 63. Has left a witness of its usurpation or invasion. 
 
 I. i. 129. Gan vail his stomach. Began to lower his 
 courage. 
 
 I. i. 147. sickly quoif. A cap worn in sickness. 
 
 L 145 
 
I. i. 174. where most trade of danger rang'd. Trade 
 is here used in the sense of activity : where danger ranged 
 or stalked most actively. 
 
 I. i. 184. Chok'd the respect of. Destroyed our regard 
 for. 
 
 I. i. 204, 205. Extends his insurrection by references 
 to the death of King Richard. Cf. I. iii. 97-107; also 
 Richard 77, V. i. 52. 
 
 I. ii. 1, 2. A reference to the common practice of diag- 
 nosis by examination of urine. 
 
 I. ii. 18. agate. A reference to the page's diminutive 
 stature by comparing him to a figure engraved in agate 
 for a seal or ornament. 
 
 I. ii. 26, 28. face royal. Royal, in addition to the 
 present adjectival meaning, was the name of a gold ten- 
 shilling coin stamped with the king's image. A similar 
 pun occurs in 1 Henry IV, II. iv. 321. 
 
 I. i. 40. Alluding to the rich man of the parable, 
 Luke, xvi. 24. 
 
 I. ii. 41. yea-for-sooth knave. Hotspur also derides mild 
 oaths, " pepper-gingerbread " of tradespeople. 1 Henry IV, 
 III. i. 252-261. 
 
 I. ii. 42. to bear ... in hand. " To keep in expecta- 
 tion." 
 
 I. ii. 45. is through with them in honest taking up. 
 Does his prettiest with them in honorable borrowing. 
 
 I. ii. 52-56. A play on the two meanings of horn, the 
 mark of the cuckold, and the material by which, prior to 
 the general use of glass, lanterns were enclosed. 
 
 I. ii. 58-61. FalstaflF had engaged Bardolph at St. 
 Paul's, then used as a general resort and business exchange 
 
147 
 
 by Londoners. There was a contemporary aphorism, 
 traced back ter the Choice of Change, 1598, warning men 
 against servants procured in Paul's, horses in Smithfield, 
 and wives in Westminster. 
 
 I. ii. 62. 63. This was Sir William Gascoigne. For 
 the story of his sentencing the Prince see Introduction. 
 
 I. ii. 100. grows to me. Belongs to me as a part of 
 myself. 
 
 I. ii. 131, 133. it; his. Two forms of the possessive 
 that preceded its, which came into literary usage about 
 1600. Its does not appear in any of Shakespeare's plays 
 published during his life, but occurs ten times in plays that 
 appeared first in the Folio of 1623. 
 
 I. ii. 133. Galen. The most celebrated of ancient 
 medical writers, whose influence was strongly felt in the 
 Middle Ages. Born about 130 A.D. 
 
 I. ii. 137. This is the line that in the Quarto bears the 
 prefix Old. See Introduction. 
 
 I. ii. 141. Clarke quotes Lord Campbell to prove that 
 "to lay by the heels " was a technical expression for 
 committing to prison ; and Falstaff evidently interprets 
 these words with that meaning; cf. 1. 146. 
 
 I. ii. 154. land-service. Falstaff was then on military 
 duty and independent of civil authority. 
 
 I. ii. 186-189. Like 1. 26 above, a punning reference 
 to a coin, the angel, which when light, i.e. under weight. 
 would not go or tell, i.e. pass as good money. 
 
 I. ii. 197. heat of our livers. The liver was regarded 
 as the seat of violent passion. Cf. IV. iii. 113. 
 
 I. ii. 238. spit white. This expression, which occurs 
 in several plays of this period, has caused much discussion. 
 
148 
 
 It seems to refer to one of the physical results of wine 
 drinking, or it may be regarded as a sign of health, as 
 Furnivall quotes from Batman upon Bartholome, 1582, to 
 prove. 
 
 I. ii. 253. bear crosses. Like II. 26 and 186 above, a 
 punning reference to coins, which were sometimes stamped 
 with a cross. 
 
 I. ii. 255. Steevens describes the pleasing diversion of 
 filliping a toad by tossing him into the air from one end 
 of a board by striking heavily on the other end. A three- 
 man beetle is a rammer handled by three men. 
 
 I. ii. 259, 260. degrees. Changed by Collier to diseases, 
 a reading followed by many editors. In what sense 
 degrees was used is doubtful; but it may signify grades 
 or conditions of ailment. prevent has here its literal 
 meaning, come before, anticipate. 
 
 I. iii. s. d. Archbishop. Richard Scrope. 
 
 I. iii. 36-55. Not in the Quarto. Lines 37-40 in the 
 Folio read : 
 
 Yes, if this present quality of warre, 
 Indeed the instant action : a cause on foot, 
 Lives so in hope : As in an early Spring 
 
 a passage which has caused voluminous emendation and 
 discussion. 
 
 I. iii. 38. Lives so in hope. Is so related to hope or has 
 such hope. 
 
 I. iii. 55. How able our estate or condition is to weigh 
 or measure against its opponents ; i.e. to hold its own 
 against opposition. 
 
 I. iii. 71. French. In 1405, according to Holinshed, 
 
149 
 
 French troops landed at Milford Haven and advanced 
 as far as Worcester. This, however, was after the sup- 
 pression of the Archbishop's rebellion. 
 
 II. i. 26. It is useless to attempt an explanation of 
 Mistress Quickly's expressions. It should be noted, 
 however, that her vocabulary is large and far from illiter- 
 ate. She aspires to be an artist in words, and fails not 
 in ideal, but in execution. 
 
 II. i. 35. one. This has been variously emended to 
 read loan by Theobald ; score by Collier ; ow'n, contraction 
 of owing and pronounced like one, by White. The mean- 
 ing of the Hostess is clear, however ; the bill is too 
 long. 
 
 II. i. 45. me. Indirect object, comparable to the ethi- 
 cal dative, and very common in Elizabethan speech. 
 
 II. i. 94. Dolphin chamber. It was customary to 
 name not only inns, but separate rooms within the inns. 
 Cf. the Half -moon and the Pomgarnet, 1 Henry IV, II. 
 iv. 30, 42 
 
 II. i. 142. Answer as befits your reputation. 
 
 II. i. 155. Glasses. Then newly in vogue and threat- 
 ening to supplant gold and silver plate. 
 
 II. i. 158. water- work. Water-color decoration of walls 
 is evidently referred to, probably cheaper and certainly 
 newer than tapestry, which Falstaff affects to despise. 
 
 II. ii. 5. discolours the complexion. Causes to blush. 
 
 II. ii. 22-24. As Clarke suggests, this is evidently an 
 allusion to playing tennis in shirt-sleeves; consequently 
 when out of linen Poins could not frequent the courts. 
 
 II. ii. 25-30. These lines are not found in the Folio, 
 where many similar coarse and indecent passages are either 
 
entirely lacking or are changed to approximate propriety. 
 The allusion is to Poins' illegitimate children clothed in 
 his ragged shirts, with a play on Holland as one of the 
 low countries and as linen. 
 
 II. ii. 40. stand the push. Await the encounter. 
 
 II. ii. 72. a proper fellow of my hands. " A fine look- 
 ing fellow of my inches." (White.) " A handsome fellow 
 of my size." (Mason.) " Possibly ... a phrase often made 
 use of to introduce qualifications discreditable to the object 
 of them." (Vaughan.) "A shapely and agile man." 
 (Herford.) 
 
 II. ii. 86. red lattice. The sign of ale houses. 
 
 II. ii. 96. 97. It was Hecuba who had this dream. The 
 life of Althea's son, Meleager, depended on the preserva- 
 tion of a fire brand, which once in a fit of anger she 
 quenched. 
 
 II. ii. 110. martlemas. A current form of Martinmas. 
 St. Martin's day was November 11. On this date it was 
 customary to kill fatted oxen for consumption during the 
 winter, and the term may be an abbreviation for " Martlemas 
 ox." Cf. 1 Henry IV, III. iii. 198, where the Prince salutes 
 Falstaff as " my sweet beef." 
 
 II. ii. 115. wen. The reference is to the size of Fal- 
 staff. 
 
 II. ii. 125. borrower's cap. Warburton's emendation of 
 the Quarto, borrowed cap. Warburton explains the reading 
 thus, " a man that goes to borrow money is of all others 
 most complaisant ; his cap is always at hand." 
 
 II. ii. 128. fetch it from Japhet. The reference seems 
 to be to the long genealogical lists by which one derives 
 descent and proves kinship. 
 
151 
 
 II. iii. 24. speaking thick. With impetuous and stam- 
 mering haste, the opposite of low and tardily, 1. 26. 
 
 II. iii. 55. for all our loves. For the love of all of us. 
 
 JI. iv. 21. old utis. Old is here intensive, as in many 
 modern slang expressions. Utis, also spelled utas t jollity, 
 merry making, as on the octave of a festival, from Old 
 French utas, utaves, octaves. 
 
 II. iv. 36. From the old ballad of Sir Lancelot du Lake. 
 
 II. iv. 53. The version of The Boy and the Mantle 
 that appears in Percy's Reliques contains the line " With 
 brooches, rings, and owches." 
 
 II. iv. 108. a Barbary hen. One whose feathers are 
 naturally ruffled. Cf. As You Like It, IV. i. 151. 
 
 II. iv. 141. basket-hilt stale juggler. "A worn-out 
 practiser of sword tricks." (Herford.) 
 
 II. iv. 146-148. Omitted in Folio. 
 
 II. iv. 161. Occupy had an obscene meaning at this 
 time. 
 
 II. iv. 169-173. Malone suggested that this was prob- 
 ably a quotation or adaptation from a lost play, The 
 Turkish Mahomet and Hiren the Fair Greek, attributed to 
 George Peele. Hiren is Irene Anglicized; but Pistol 
 seems to apply it to his sword, perhaps confusing it with 
 iron, and Mistress Quickly considers it an opprobrious 
 term for a woman, 1. 190. In Peele's Merie Conceited Jests 
 Hiren is said to be " in Italian called a Curtezan." 
 
 II. iv. 178, 179. A perversion of Marlowe's 2 Tambur- 
 laine, IV. ii. 1, 2. Probably the remainder of this speech 
 is a hodge-podge of misquotations from old plays. 
 
 II. iv. 182. let the welkin roar. Steevens identified 
 this line in two old ballads. 
 
II. iv. 193. A burlesque of a line from Peele's Battle 
 of Alcazar, 1594. 
 
 II. iv. 195. Pistol's version of a motto current in 
 Italian and French. Se fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me 
 contenta; Si fortune me tourmente, Vespbrance me contente; 
 If fortune torments me, hope' contents me. Douce had in 
 his possession an old rapier with the French motto engraved 
 upon it, and considered that Pistol here and in V. v. 102 
 read a similar inscription from his own sword. 
 
 II. iv. 201. We have seen the Pleiades; i.e. spent the 
 nights together. Cf. 1 Henry IV, I. ii. 16. 
 
 II. iv. 211. Then death rock me asleep. The first 
 line of a poem attributed to Anne Boleyn. 
 
 II. iv. 213. Dyce sees in this absurd line a parody of 
 a portion of Sackville's Complaint of the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham in A Mirrour for Magistrates, 1563. 
 
 II. iv. 238. Nine Worthies. These were usually said 
 to be Hector, Alexander, and Julius Caesar; Joshua, 
 David, and Judas Maccabeus; Arthur, Charlemagne, and 
 Godfrey of Bouillon. 
 
 II. iv. 250. Bartholomew boar-pig. Roast pig was 
 one of the chief dainties served at Bartholomew Fair, the 
 most noted of London fairs held in Smithfield on St. 
 Bartholomew's day. 
 
 II. iv. 268. rides the wild-mare. Plays see-saw. 
 
 II. iv. 278. nave of a wheel. Clarke considered this 
 an allusion to " Sir John's combined knavery and rotun- 
 dity." 
 
 II. iv. 288. fiery Trigon. In astrological parlance 
 the signs of the zodiac were divided into four groups or 
 trigons, consisting of the fiery, airy, watery, and earthly 
 
153 
 
 signs. The allusion here is to Bardolph's complexion, 
 which seems^t(Tconcentrate all the fiery elements. 
 
 II. iv. 308. Poins his brother. A form of the posses- 
 sive then common. 
 
 II. iv. 324. if you take not the heat. If you do not 
 strike while the iron is hot. 
 
 II. iv. 358. dead elm. Schmidt's suggestion is usu- 
 ally quoted, " perhaps on account of the weak support 
 he had given to Doll Tearsheet " ; but this interpretation 
 seems worse than none. I am inclined to regard it as a 
 reference to Falstaff s age and spreading bulk. 
 
 II. iv. 366. bums poor souls. Sir Thomas Hanmer's 
 emendation burns, poor soul has been followed by many 
 modern editors. By either reading the reference is to 
 the contagion of the disease formerly called " the burn- 
 ing." 
 
 III. i. 30. happy low, lie down. Warburton's ingenious 
 emendation of happy lowly clown has not commended itself 
 to later editors, most of whom follow the plain reading of 
 the text of both Quarto and Folio, and interpret low as an 
 adjective with substantive suggestion. 
 
 III. i. 53-56. This passage is not in the Folio, and has 
 been attacked by White as " a square block of puling 
 commonplace let into a grand and vigorous passage." 
 Is it not rather the natural expression of an embittered 
 and broken man letting his mind wander back over the 
 vanity of an unsatisfied life? Note the rallying in 92, 
 and the fretful, peevish outbreak in IV. iv. 103. 
 
 III. i. 66-79. Cf. Richard 77, V. i. 55-68. It will be 
 seen that neither the King nor Warwick was present when 
 Richard's eyes, washed clear by tears, foresaw the future. 
 
III. i. 72. If this is in the indicative mood it is in direct 
 contradiction of the facts as given in Richard //, IV. i; 
 note especially 1. 113. However, it is probably a part of an 
 implied conditional sentence: I should have had no such 
 intent if necessity had not, etc. 
 
 III. i. 103. Holinshed places Glendower's death in the 
 tenth year of the reign of Henry IV, 1408-1409, although 
 later historians have found reason to assert that he was 
 alive in 1416. 
 
 III. ii. 33. Skogan. Henry Scogan was a poet of this 
 period; but his fame has become confused with that of 
 John Scogan, who fifty years later was fool at the court of 
 Edward IV. 
 
 III. ii. 42. How (much is) a good yoke of bullocks? 
 
 III. ii. 51-53. He would have hit the mark at twelve 
 score yards; and shot fourteen and fourteen and a half 
 score yards with a forehand shaft, an arrow described very 
 vaguely in Ascham's Toxophilus. 
 
 III. ii. 56. Thereafter as they be. According to their 
 condition. 
 
 III. ii. 145, 146. We have a number of false names to 
 enter in the muster-book. For these shadow-soldiers pay 
 would be received and pocketed by the recruiting officer. 
 
 III. ii. 178. Evidently an allusion to the occupants of 
 Wart's garments. 
 
 HI. ii. 236. four Harry ten shillings in French crowns. 
 Ten-shilling pieces were first coined in the reign of Henry 
 VII. A French crown was worth rather less than five 
 shillings. 
 
 III. ii. 298. Mile-end Green. An open place in London 
 for public sports and military manoeuvres. 
 
155 
 
 III. ii. 300. Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show. Arthur's 
 show was an exhibition of archery by a society of fifty- 
 eight members known as "the Auncient Order, Society, 
 and Unitie Laudable of Prince Arthjire and his Knightly 
 Armory of the Round Table." The members named 
 themselves for the characters in the romances of Arthur. 
 Sir Dagonet was the fool in the Morte d* Arthur. 
 
 III. ii. 319. at a word. Briefly, in one word. 
 
 III. ii. 337. invincible. Not to be evinced, indeter- 
 minable. (Schmidt.) Rowe's emendation, invisible, has 
 been often adopted. 
 
 III. ii. 343. fancies, good-nights. These were used as 
 titles of certain light lyrics. 
 
 III. ii. 344. Vice's dagger. The vice of the old Moral- 
 ities carried a flat, wooden dagger. 
 
 III. ii. 355. a philosopher's two stones. Of as much 
 value as two philosopher's stones, which transmuted base 
 metal into gold. This boast Falstaff fulfils, as we know 
 from V. v. 12. 
 
 IV. i. s. d. The one scene direction of the Quarto reads : 
 " Enter the Archbishop, Mowbray, Bardolfe, Hastings, 
 within the forrest of Gaultree." This forest in the North 
 Riding of Yorkshire was formerly very extensive. 
 
 IV. i. 50. graves. Steevens's emendation of greaves has 
 been followed by many editors. It should be noted, 
 moreover, that greaves and graves were interchangeable 
 spellings. 
 
 IV. i. 94-96. "The passage, being plainly mutilated, 
 defies any satisfactory explanation." (Dyce.) 
 
 IV. i. 117-129. Cf. Richard //, I. iii. 
 
 IV. i. 135. it. Apparently the victory implied in 1. 134. 
 
156 
 
 IV. i. 146. think. Modern usage would substitute a 
 causative form : cause one to think or cause you to be 
 thought. 
 
 IV. i. 170-175. The participial clauses are conditional 
 or temporal in effect. 
 
 IV. i. 173. Acquitted by a true and valid pardon. 
 
 IV. i. 174, 175. The idea seems to be : the immediate 
 execution of our wishes pertaining to ourselves and our 
 plans. Johnson read consigned; Hanmer read properties 
 confirmed. 
 
 IV. i. 176. awful banks. Bounds of awe or reverence. 
 This use of the adjective is very common in Shake- 
 speare ; cf. the modern use in " a sick bed," bed of sick- 
 ness. 
 
 IV. i. 181. place of difference. Battlefield. 
 
 IV. i. 193. royal faiths. Good faith, fidelity to the 
 king. 
 
 IV. ii. and iii. In the Folio there are no new scenes 
 indicated. 
 
 IV. iii. 58. cinders of the element. A right Falstaffian 
 reference to the stars. Element has here the meaning of 
 sky. 
 
 IV. iii. 113. liver. Cf. note on I. ii. 197. 
 
 IV. iii. 125. Tyrwhitt suggested that this is an allu- 
 sion to the Cambridge Commencement and the Oxford 
 Act, i.e. the conferring of degrees by which students may 
 make use of their hoard of learning. 
 
 IV. iii. 140-142. The figure is that of sealing with 
 soft, tempered wax. 
 
 IV. iv. 45, 46. Even though mingled with the incite- 
 ments to discord such as the age will certainly infuse, 
 
157 
 
 IV. v. In the Folio there is no new scene indicated; 
 but the King's order in IV. iv. 131, 132 and his question 
 in IV. v. 233, 234 indicate a change of place. 
 
 IV. v. 31. scald'st with safety. Burns while, protect- 
 ing. 
 
 IV. v. 79, 80. This realization yields its accumulation 
 of bitterness to the dying father. 
 
 IV. v. 163. medicine potable. Aurum potabile, liquid 
 gold, was regarded as the elixir of life and was eagerly 
 sought for by alchemists. 
 
 IV. v. 212, 213. look too near unto. Scrutinize too 
 closely. 
 
 IV. v. 229, 230. With the sight of thee, or in thy sight, 
 my worldly career comes to an end. 
 
 IV. v. 235. The Jerusalem Chamber, in the southwest 
 corner of Westminster Abbey, was built between 1376 
 and 1386 as a guest chamber; but in the time of King 
 Henry IV was used as a council chamber. 
 
 V. i. 42. Woncot. See Introduction. 
 
 V. i. 89. Terms, actions. Time is here computed by 
 the sittings of court and the length of law cases or actions. 
 
 V. ii. 34. Equivalent to the figurative expression, goes 
 against the grain. 
 
 V. ii. 38. a ragged and forestalled remission. A con- 
 temptible and entreated pardon. 
 
 V. ii. 90. Mock your acts as performed by your repre- 
 sentatives. 
 
 V. ii. 99. in your state. In your royal capacity. 
 
 V. ii. 123, 124. Cf. Henry V, I. i. 25-28. 
 
 V. ii. 129. After my seeming. According to my appear- 
 
V. iii. 31, 32. you must bear. The heart's all. You 
 must be tolerant. The intention is the main thing. 
 
 V. iii. 76. A current expression in toasting and drinking. 
 
 V. iii. 77-79. Steevens quotes from Nash's Summer's 
 Last Will and Testament: 
 
 God Bacchus, do me right, 
 And dub me Knight, 
 Domingo. 
 
 Silence's S'amingo is evidently an attempt at San Do- 
 mingo. 
 
 V. iii. 103-106. As Warburton suggests, these lines are 
 probably drawn from a lost play dealing with the story 
 of King Cophetua and the beggar maid. 
 
 V. iii. 107. From a Robin Hood ballad. 
 
 V. iii. 147. From an old song sung also by Petruchio 
 in The Taming of the Shrew, IV. i. 143. 
 
 V. iv. s. d. The Quarto reads, " Enter Sincklo and three 
 or four officers." By a similar mistake the name of the 
 actor Sincklo was substituted for the character he played 
 in the Induction to The Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 V. iv. 20. thin man in a censer. White suggests that 
 the man wore some kind of a cap resembling a censer. 
 
 V. iv. 22. blue-bottle rogue. Probably a reference to 
 the color of the beadle's coat. 
 
 V. v. 30, 31. Verplanck suggests that Pistol is rattling 
 off Latin and English mottoes gathered from heraldic 
 devices. There is an old proverbial saying, " All in all, 
 and all in every part." There, seems no point in correcting 
 Pistol's obsque to absque, as has been done by many editors 
 from the time of the Second Folio to now. 
 
159 
 
 V. v. 57-59. So much is Falstaff " the cause that wit 
 is in other men "~ that even here in the gravity of his 
 newly acquired dignity the King is unable to refrain from 
 " a fool-born jest " at the sight of his old companion. 
 Harsh as he is in his stern denial, he dares not hear a word 
 in reply, and suppresses the joke that he sees ready to 
 burst from the veteran punster's lips. 
 
 V. v. 91-94. colour. Apparently a play on colour, 
 pretence, and choler. 
 
 V. v. 102. See note on II. iv. 195. 
 
 Epilogue, 17. The Quarto reads after infinitely: "and 
 so I kneele downe before you ; but indeed, to pray for the 
 Queene," and the Epilogue closes with good night, 35. 
 Evidently the last two paragraphs are an addition to 
 the original epilogue, and probably were written after 
 the name of Falstaff had been changed, and perhaps after 
 the rival play Sir John Oldcastle had been performed by 
 Henslow's company in 1599. 
 
 33. Oldcastle. See Introduction. 
 
 37. pray for the Queen. In the earliest days of the 
 English drama, religious plays had closed with prayer, and 
 the custom was sometimes continued even after the drama 
 was completely secularized, especially in plays performed 
 at court. 
 
Cejtual 
 
 The text in the present edition is based upon the first Quarto, 
 and the following list records the more important variations 
 from that version, and also the more important changes and 
 omissions in the Folio. Passages in the text enclosed in 
 brackets are additions from the first Folio. 
 
 Ind. 35. hold] Theobald; hole Q Ff . 
 
 36. Where] Ff; When Q. 
 I. i. 103. tolling] Q; knolling Ff. 
 
 106. God]Q; heaven Ff. 
 
 126. Too]Ff; So Q. 
 
 161. [Tra.] Capell; Amfr. Q; Ff omit speech. 
 164. LeanJLeaueQ; Leane Ff . 
 
 166-179. Ff; Q omits. 
 188. do]Ff; dare Q. 
 189-209. Ff ; Q omits. 
 ii. 9. intends] Q ; tends Ff . 
 
 55. Where's Bardolph] Ff ; after through it in 53, Q. 
 111. hath . . . age] Ff ; have . . . ague Q. 
 137. [FoJJFf; Old. Q. 
 
 162. slenderer] Ff; slender Q. 
 
 206, 7. your chin double] Q ; Ff omit. 
 210-211. about. . . afternoon] Q; Ff omit. 
 240-247. but it ... motion] Q; Ff omit. 
 iii. 21-24,36-55. Ff; Q omits. 
 
 37. Needed] Gould conj.; Indeed Ff. 
 66. a]Ff; so, Q. 
 
 160 
 
ariants 161 
 
 79-80. To French . . . him] Capell; French . . . him 
 jQ^He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and 
 Welsh Baying him Ff. 
 85-108. Ff; Q omits. 
 U.I 24. vice]Ff; view Q. 
 
 182. [Basingstoke] Ff; Billingsgate Q. 
 ii. 1, s. d. Poins] Rowe ; Paynes, sir lohn Rusael, with 
 
 other Q ; Pointz, Bardolfe and Page Ff . 
 18. viz.] Ff; with Q. 
 
 26-30. And God . . . strengthened] Q ; Ft omit. 
 80. Poins.] Q Ft; Bard. Theobald. 
 85. 'A calls] Q; He call'd Ff. 
 91. rabbit] Ff ; rabble Q. 
 125. borrower's] Theobald; borrowed Q Ff. 
 129. "Sir] Q Ff ; Poins [Reads] "Sir Hanmer. 
 134. "I]QFf; Poins [Reads] " I Hanmer. 
 137. [Prince] Q Ff omit. 
 144. familiars] Ff; family Q. 
 147. Poins.] Q; Ft omit. 
 iii. 23-45. Ff; Q omits. 
 iv. 1, 11. 1. Draw.] Ft; Francis Q. 
 
 14. Dispatch] Pope ; Dra. Dispatch Q ; Ff omit Dis- 
 
 patch . . . straight. 
 16, 232. Draw.] Ft; Francis Q. 
 20. word] Q adds. Enter Will Q. 
 58, 59. Q ; Ff omit. 
 125. shall] Ff; shall not Q. 
 146-148. Q; Ff omit. 
 III. i. Some copies of Q omit this scene. 
 
 18. mastJFf; masse Q. 
 27. sea-boy] Ff ; season Q. . 
 
artanw 
 
 31, s. d. Surrey] Ff ; Surry, and Sir lohn Blunt Q. 
 53-56. O, if . . . die] Q; Ff omit. 
 ii. 121. Fal. Prick him] Ff ; lohn prickes him Q. 
 
 160. [Fal.] Theobald; Shal. Q Ff . 
 337. invincible] Q Ff ; invisible Howe. 
 338-339. yet ... mandrake] Q; Ff omit. 
 341-344. and sung . . . good-nights] Q; Ff omit. 
 
 IV. i. 34. rags] S. Walker conj.; rage Q Ff. 
 
 55-79. Ff; Q omits. 
 93,95. Q; Ff omit. 
 94-95. Hopelessly corrupt. 
 103-139. Ff ; Q omits. 
 139. and did] Ff; indeed Thirlby conj. 
 180. And] Thirlby conj.; At Q Ff. 
 ii. 8. man] Ff ; man talking Q. 
 24. Employ] Ff; Imply Q. 
 67. Lan.] lohn Ff ; Q omits. 
 69. [Hast.]f', Prince Q. 
 Hi. 46. Rome] Ff ; Rome, there cosin Q. 
 iv. 32. melting] Ff ; meeting Q. 
 39. time] Q; line Ff. 
 
 104. write . . . letters] Ff ; wet . . . termes Q. 
 v. 13. alter'd] Ff; altred Q (CapeWs copy)-, uttred Q 
 
 (Devonshire copy). 
 75. tolling] Q; culling Ff. 
 82. hath] Ff ; hands Q. 
 
 161. worst of] Ff ; worse then Q. 
 205. [my] Tyrwhitt conj.; thy Q Ff. 
 
 V. iv. 1, s. d. Enter, etc.] Malone ; Enter Sincklo and three or 
 
 four officers Q; Enter Hostesse Quickly, Dol 
 Teare-sheete, and Beadles Ff . 
 
ajriant* 
 
 163 
 
 4. 1 Bead.} Malone; Sincklo Q; Off. Ff (and so 
 
 throughout the scene). 
 
 6, 7, 10. enough, lately, now] Ff ; Q omits. 
 8. Dol] Ff ; JF/tore Q (and so throughout the scene). 
 v. 3. 1. Groom] Ff; 3. Q. 
 16. [SAaZ.JFf; Pist. Q. 
 18,20. SAa/.]Hanmer; Pw<. Q Ff . 
 25. [Fal.] Ff ; Q owu'te. 
 86. well, should] Ff; Q omits. 
 Epi. 35-36. And so ... Queen] Ff ; after infinitely in 17. Q. 
 
'A, he; I. ii. 48. 
 
 abated, reduced to lower temper; I. i. 117. 
 
 abroach, afoot, in action ; IV. ii. 14. 
 
 accite, incite; II. ii. 65: summon, V. ii. 141. 
 
 accommodate, supplied, a word much in vogue and used 
 without discrimination; III. ii. 72-88. 
 
 Achitophel, a treacherous double-tongued counsellor who 
 turned from David to Absalom; I. ii. 41. 
 
 address, prepare, equip ; IV. iv. 5. 
 
 affection, propensity, inclination; IV. iv. 65. 
 
 agate, see note, I. ii. 18. 
 
 Alecto, one of the Furies, represented as wreathed with 
 snakes ; V. v. 39. 
 
 Amurath, the third Turkish emperor of the name, died 
 in 1595. His first act after his accession in 1574 was 
 to strangle his five brothers ; V. ii. 48. 
 
 an, if; Li. IS. 
 
 anatomize, analyze, interpret; Induct. 21. 
 
 ancient, ensign ; II. iv. 74. 
 
 apple-John, a kind of apple that shriveled without decay- 
 ing; II. iv. 2. 
 
 apprehensive, imaginative ; IV. iii. 107. 
 
 approve, prove ; I. ii. 214. 
 
 argument, subject ; V. ii. 23. 
 
 assemblance, semblance, appearance; III. ii. 277. 
 
 atonement, reconciliation; IV. i. 221. 
 
 attach, seize ; II. ii. 3 : arrest ; IV. ii. 109. 
 
 awful, awe-inspiring ; IV. i. 176 ; V. ii. 86. 
 
 band, bond ; I. ii. 37. 
 
 Barbary hen, see note, II. iv. 108. 
 
 65 
 
Barson, Barston in Warwickshire ; V. iii. 94. 
 
 bate, quarrel, disturbance; II. iv. 271. 
 
 bate, reduce a debt, used quibblingly ; Epil. 15. 
 
 battle, army or division of an army; III. ii. 165; IV. 
 i. 154. 
 
 bear out, support, favor ; V. i. 54. 
 
 bear-herd, bear tender or keeper; I. ii. 191. 
 
 beaver, helmet, the movable part of the helmet; IV. i. 
 120. 
 
 beshrew, blame, curse; but often used lightly or play- 
 fully ; II. iii. 45 ; V. iii. 59. 
 
 Besonian, a base fellow; V. iii. 119. 
 
 bestow, behave, deport ; II. ii. 186. 
 
 biggen, night-cap ; IV. v. 27. 
 
 blubber, sob ; II. iv. 420. 
 
 bona-roba, a woman of the town, a courtesan; III. ii. 
 26, 217. 
 
 book, register, record; II. ii. 49. 
 
 book-oath, an oath taken on the Bible; II. i. 111. 
 
 borne, laden ; II. iv. 393. 
 
 break, become bankrupt; Epilogue, 13. 
 
 breathe, endow with breath; IV. i. 114. 
 
 breeding, parentage, descent; V. iii. 111. 
 
 buckle, bend, bow; I. i. 141. 
 
 bung, sharper, pick-pocket; II. iv. 138. 
 
 caliver, a light musket ; III. ii. 290. 
 
 calm, qualm; II. iv. 41. 
 
 canaries, Canary wine ; II. iv. 29. 
 
 candle-mine, tallow-pit; II. iv. 326. 
 
 cankers, canker-worms; II. ii. 102. 
 
 cannibals, presumably Hannibals ; II. iv. 180. 
 
 canvass, toss in a sheet ; II. iv. 243. 
 
 caraway, a confection containing caraway seeds; V. iii. 3 
 
167 
 
 case, condition, circumstances; II. i. 115. 
 
 cast, calculate* reckon ; I. i. 166; V. i. 21. 
 
 catastrophe, used vulgarly for posteriors ; II. i. 66. 
 
 cavalero, cavalier ; V. iii. 62, 
 
 censer, i.e. a cap like a censer; V. iv. 20. 
 
 channel, kennel, gutter; II. i. 52. 
 
 charge, readiness for action ; IV. i. 120. 
 
 cheater, rogue or trickster; but Mistress Quickly mis- 
 
 understands it as escheater, an officer of the exchequer; 
 
 II. iv. 105, 111. 
 chops, a humorous name for a person with fat cheeks; 
 
 II. iv. 235. 
 
 clap, see note, III. ii. 51. 
 close, make peace, agree ; II. iv. 354. 
 clout, see note, III. ii. 52. 
 cock and pie, a common expletive of doubtful origin; 
 
 V. i. 1. 
 
 colour, excuse, pretense; I. ii. 276; V. v. 91. 
 commit, sentence to prison; I. ii. 63; V. ii. 83, 112; but 
 
 note that the word is used in its ordinary sense in 
 
 V. ii. 113. 
 
 commodity, profit, advantage ; I. ii. 279. 
 compel, enforce, exact; IV. i. 147. 
 conceit, wit, fancy ; II. iv. 263. 
 condition, rank, official position ; IV. iii. 90. 
 conger, conger-eel; II. iv. 58. 
 consign, agree, assent; V. ii. 143. 
 consist, insist, require; IV. i. 187. 
 conversation, habit, way of life ; V. v. 106. 
 correctioner, one who administers correction or punish- 
 
 ment ; V. iv. 23. 
 costermonger, a hawker of small fruits, hence a term of 
 
 contempt; I. ii. 190. 
 Cots'oP, Cotswold, famed for sports ; III. ii. 23. 
 
i68 
 
 countenance, favor, support ; V. i. 49 : as a verb, V. i. 41, 
 
 57. 
 
 cover, lay the table; II. iv. 11. 
 crack, a lively, roguish boy ; III. ii. 34. 
 crib, a small room ; III. i. 9. 
 crudy, crude, raw; IV. iii. 106. 
 curry, seek favor; V. i. 82. 
 cuttle, bully, sharper; II. iv. 140. 
 
 dear, affecting one deeply for good or ill ; IV. v. 141. 
 
 defensible, capable of making defense; II. iii. 38. 
 
 depart, leave; IV. v. 91. 
 
 derive itself, pass by descent ; IV. v. 43. 
 
 determine, bring to an end; IV. v. 82. 
 
 dole, dealing, distribution ; I. i. 169. 
 
 doubt, suspect, fear; Epil. 7. 
 
 dram, a small quantity ; I. ii. 149. 
 
 draw, draw together, assemble; I. iii. 109: withdraw. 
 
 II. i. 162. 
 
 drawer, wine-drawer, tapster; II. ii. 191. 
 dreadful, to be dreaded ; V. ii. 94. 
 drooping, sinking, declining; Induct. 3. 
 duer, more duly ; III. ii. 830. 
 dull, soothing, producing drowsiness ; IV. v. 2. 
 
 easy, slight, easy to bear; V. ii. 71. 
 
 element, the sky ; IV. iii. 58. 
 
 endear'd, closely bound; II. iii. 11. 
 
 engrafted, attached; II. ii. 67. 
 
 engross, accumulate, collect; IV. v. 71. 
 
 engrossment, see note, IV. v. 80. 
 
 Ephesians, a current term for companions, equivalent to 
 
 Corinthians, 1 Henry IV, II. iv. 12; II. ii. 164. 
 exion, Mrs. Quickly's blunder for " action " ; II. i. 33. 
 
169 
 
 faitor, evil doer; IL iv. 173. 
 
 fear, affright, alarm; IV. iv. 121. 
 
 fennel, an herb supposed to be inflammatory ; II. iv. 267. 
 
 fetch off, cheat, fleece; III. ii. 324. 
 
 fig, to make an offensive gesture, especially in vogue 
 
 among the Spanish; V. iii. 124. 
 flap-dragon, a burning substance floating on wine; II. 
 
 iv. 267. 
 
 flaw, thin ice; IV. iv. 35. 
 Fleet, the Fleet Prison ; V. v. 97. 
 flesh'd, made fierce, as if fed with flesh; I. i. 149. 
 foin, thrust, a fencing term ; II. i. 18. 
 fond, foolishly affectionate ; I. iii. 91. 
 fondly, foolishly; IV. ii. 119. 
 
 force perforce, an emphatic form of perforce; IV. i. 116. 
 forehead, assurance, audacity; I. iii. 8. 
 forgetive, inventive, apprehensive; from/or^e; IV. iii. 107. 
 foutra, a gross term of contempt; V. iii. 103, 121. 
 frame, bring to pass ; IV. i. 180. 
 frank, pen, sty ; II. ii. 160. 
 fronting, threatening; IV. iv. 66. 
 fub off, fob off, put off ; II. i. 37. 
 fustian, bombastic ; II. iv. 203. 
 
 Galloway nags, inferior horses kept for hire ; II. iv. 205. 
 gan, preterit of gin, begin ; followed by infinitive without 
 
 to; I. i. 129. 
 
 garland, crown; V. ii. 84. s 
 get, beget; IV. iii. 101. 
 
 gibbet on, to swing on a gibbet or yoke ; III. ii. 282. 
 give out, declare, announce ; IV. i. 23. 
 good-year, a meaningless expletive of doubtful origin; 
 
 II. iv. 64, 191. 
 graff, graft; V. iii. 3. 
 
170 
 
 grate, fret, irritate ; IV. i. 90. 
 
 green, fresh, new; II. i. 107; IV. v. 204. 
 
 green-sickness, an anaemic disease of young girls; IV. 
 
 iii. 100. 
 
 grief, grievance, wrong ; IV. i. 69 ; IV. ii. 36, 59 ; IV. v. 204. 
 guard, trim, deck ; IV. i. 34. 
 
 half-fac'd, thin, sharp-faced ; III. ii. 283. 
 
 half-kirtie, short kirtle ; V. iv. 24. 
 
 hang, suspend, arrest; IV. i. 213. 
 
 haunch, latter end ; IV. iv. 92. 
 
 heat, violence of action or anger ; IV. iii. 27. 
 
 heavy, sad, mournful; V. ii. 14. 
 
 hempseed, homicide ; II. i. 64. 
 
 hilding, base ; I. i. 57. 
 
 Hinckley, a market town in Leicestershire ; V. i. 26. 
 
 his, its; I. ii. 133. See note. 
 
 history, narrate; Shakespeare's only use of the word as a 
 
 verb; IV. i. 203. 
 
 honey-seed, homicide ; II. i. 57, 58. 
 honey-suckle, Mrs. Quickly 's blunder for homicidal; II. 
 
 i. 56. 
 humour, one of the four fluids of the body, supposed to de- 
 
 termine one's physical and mental qualities ; hence disposi- 
 
 tion, temperament, caprice ; II. iii. 30. 
 humorous, moody, capricious ; IV. iv. 34. 
 hunt counter, a hunting term, on the wrong scent * 
 
 track; I. ii. 102. 
 
 hurly, tumult, commotion; III. i. 25. 
 husband, husbandman; V. iii. 12. 
 
 imp, child ; V. v. 46. 
 
 indiff erency, moderate size ; IV. iii. 23. 
 
 insinew, join, ally ; IV. i. 172. 
 
171 
 
 instance, proof, illustration; III. i. 103; IV. i. 83. 
 intelligencer, messenger; IV. ii. 20. 
 intend, tend; I. ii. 9 : signify; IV. i. 166. 
 intervallum, interval; V. i. 90. 
 inward, civil ; III. i. 107. 
 it, its; I. ii. 131. 
 
 jade, a mare; I. i. 45. 
 
 join'd stool, a kind of folding chair ; II. iv. 269. 
 
 Jordan, chamber pot ; II. iv. 37. 
 
 just, even, equal ; IV. i. 226 : true, V. iii. 127. 
 
 juvenal, youth; I. ii. 21. 
 
 ken, view, sight; IV. i. 151. 
 
 kickshaw, a fancy dish ; V. i. 29. 
 
 kindly, natural ; IV. v. 84. 
 
 kirtle, a woman's garment, probably a skirt ; II. iv. 297. 
 
 'larum-bell, alarm bell; III. i. 17. 
 
 lavish, unrestrained, licentious; IV. iv. 64. 
 
 leather-coat, russet apple; V. iii. 44. 
 
 leman, sweetheart, mistress; V. iii. 49. 
 
 level, just, "equitable ; II. i. 124: agreeable; IV. iv. 7. 
 
 lie, lodge; III. ii. 299; IV. ii. 97. 
 
 liggens, possibly a perversion of lifekins; V. iii. 69. 
 
 like, thrive, be in good condition ; III. ii. 92. 
 
 limb, member; V. ii. 135. 
 
 line, to pad or protect as with a lining ; hence to strengthen 
 
 sustain; I. iii. 27. 
 lodge, harbor ; IV. v. 208. 
 look beyond, misjudge ; IV. iv. 67. 
 
 malmsey-nose, red-nosed; II. i. 42. 
 malt-worms, topers; II. iv. 361. 
 
mandrake, the forked root of this plant was supposed to 
 
 resemble the human figure ; I. ii. 16 ; III. ii. 339. 
 mare, nightmare ; II. i. 83. 
 mark, a coin worth 13$. 4d. ; see note, II. i. 35. 
 marry, a common expletive, derived from the name of the 
 
 Virgin; I. ii. 221. 
 
 mechanical, belonging to mechanics ; V. v. 88. 
 metal, mettle, the two spellings and the two meanings were 
 
 used interchangeably; I. i. 116. 
 mete, judge; IV. iv. 77. 
 moe, more ; I. ii. 5. 
 
 more and less, high and low ; I. i. 209. 
 much, an expletive; II. iv. 143: used ironically; III. ii. 
 
 142: an intensive; IV. iv. 111. 
 mure, wall (of flesh) ; IV. iv. 119. 
 
 neaf , fist ; II. iv. 200. 
 
 nice, effeminate, delicate; I. i. 145: trivial, IV. i. 191. 
 noble, a gold coin worth 6*. Sd. ; II. i. 167. 
 noise, music or band of musicians; II. iv. 12. 
 note, account, bill; V. i. 19. 
 
 nut-hook, a derisive term applied to a beadle because he 
 carried a catch-pole; V. iv. 8. 
 
 observance, reverence ; IV. in. 16. 
 
 observe, treat with respect, humor ; IV. iv. 30, 36, 49. 
 
 o'er-post, get over quickly; I. ii. 171. 
 
 o'erset, overcame; I. i. 185. 
 
 offer, threaten, menace; IV. i. 219. 
 
 office, room; I. iii. 47. 
 
 omit, neglect; IV. iv. 27. 
 
 opposite, opponent ; IV. i. 16. 
 
 ostentation, manifestation, outward expression ; II. ii. 54. 
 
 ouch, ornament ; II. iv. 53. 
 
173 
 
 ousel, blackbird ; III. ii. 9. 
 
 overscutch'd, the meaning is doubtful; "whipped at the 
 
 cart's tail" and "outworn" are suggested; III. ii. 
 
 341. 
 
 overween, think too proudly, presume; IV. i. 149. 
 owe, own ; I. ii. 4. 
 
 pantler, servant in the pantry ; II. iv. 258. 
 
 parcel, portion, detail ; IV. ii. 36. 
 
 parcel-gilt, partly gilt; II. i. 94. 
 
 part, act, deed ; IV. v. 64. 
 
 passing, surpassingly, exceedingly; IV. ii. 85. 
 
 peascod-time, when peas are in the pod; II. iv. 413. 
 
 persistency, obstinacy; II. ii. 50. 
 
 picking, trifling, trivial ; IV. i. 198. 
 
 point, stop, end; II. iv. 198: a tagged lacing for fastening 
 
 portions of the clothing ; I. i. 53 : probably also lace 
 
 used on uniforms to denote rank ; II. iv. 143 : a musical 
 
 signal or call ; IV. i. 52. 
 post, post-horse; IV. iii. 40. 
 pottle-pot, two-quart pot ; II. ii. 84 ; V. iii. 68. 
 pox, a common expletive ; I. ii. 273. 
 precept, summons, warrant; V. i. 14. 
 pregnancy, quickness of wit ; I. ii. 192. 
 prevent, see note on I. ii. 259. 
 price, value, worth; V. iii. 100. 
 prick, mark, or check in a list ; II. iv. 359. 
 Preface, a salutation before eating, from Old French 
 
 prouface, prou fasse, an abridgment of bon prou was 
 
 fasse, may it do you good ; V. iii. 30. 
 project, idea, expectation ; I. iii. 29. 
 proof, good result ; IV. iii. 97. 
 proper, own; V. ii 109. 
 propose, suppose, imagine; V. ii. 92. 
 
174 
 
 purchase, in the legal sense of acquisition by one's own 
 act instead of by inheritance ; IV. v. 200. 
 
 quantity, piece, fragment; V. i. 70. 
 
 quean, a derogatory term for a woman ; II. i. 51. 
 
 queasiness, nausea, qualms, disgust ; I. i. 196. 
 
 quittance, requital, return; I. i. 108. 
 
 quiver, nimble, active; III. ii. 301. 
 
 quoit, pitch like a quoit; II. iv. 206. 
 
 ragged, rough; I. i. 151: beggarly, base; V ii. 38. 
 recordation, record, memorial; II. iii. 61. 
 remember, mention, remind; V. ii. 142. 
 respect, consideration, regard; I. i. 184. 
 rigol, circlet, crown; IV. v. 36. 
 rood, cross; III. ii. 3. 
 
 sack, sweet wine from Spain and the Canary Islands; IV. 
 iii. 124. 
 
 sad, sober, serious; V. i. 92. 
 
 scab, a term of contempt ; III. ii. 296. 
 
 sect, kind, sex; II. iv. 41. 
 
 semblable, similar, like; V. i. 73. 
 
 set off, cast off, ignored ; IV. i. 145. 
 
 sherris, sherris-sack; sherry, sack of Xeres; IV. iii. 103, 
 111. 
 
 shift, change clothing; V. v. 23. 
 
 shot, shooter; III. ii. 295. 
 
 shove-groat shilling, a shilling used in the game of shove- 
 groat, a diminutive form of shovel-board, originally 
 played with a groat; II. iv. 206. 
 
 sights, eye-hole in a helmet; IV. i. 121. 
 
 single, foolish, silly; I. ii. 207. 
 
 slops, breeches ; I. ii. 34. 
 
175 
 
 smooth-pates, evidently a reference to a fashion of hair- 
 dressing later derided as " round head " ; I. ii. 43. 
 
 sneap, reproof, snub; II. i. 133. 
 
 something, somewhat ; I. ii. 211 ; IV. ii. 80. 
 
 sortance, accord; IV. i. 11. 
 
 state, majesty; V. ii. 132. 
 
 stiff-borne, obstinately maintained; I. i. 177. 
 
 stomach, courage, pride; I. i. 129: appetite; IV. iv. 
 105. 
 
 stratagem, dreadful event, calamity; I. i. 8. 
 
 stray, stragglers; IV. ii. 120. 
 
 studied, inclined; II. ii. 9. 
 
 success, succession ; IV. ii. 47. 
 
 successively, by right of succession ; IV. v. 202. 
 
 suffered, allowed; II. iii. 57. 
 
 suggestion, evil report, insinuation; IV. iv. 45. 
 
 sway, swing, rush; IV. i. 24. 
 
 swinge, whip; V. iv. 21, 23. 
 
 swinge-buckler, swash-buckler, roysterer; III. ii. 24. 
 
 ta, thou; II. i. 63. 
 
 tables, memorandum or notebook; II. iv. 289; IV. i. 
 
 201. 
 
 take up, raise, levy ; II. i. 199 ; IV. ii. 26. 
 taking up, obtaining on credit ; I. ii. 46. 
 tall, lusty, valiant; III. ii. 67. 
 tap for tap, tit for tat; II. i. 206. 
 tester, sixpence; III. ii. 296. 
 thews, brawn, muscle; III. ii. 276. 
 tilly-fally, an interjection equivalent to "nonsense"; II. iv. 
 
 90. 
 
 traverse, march; III. ii. 291. 
 trimmed, adorned, provided with; I. iii. 94. 
 truncheon, cudgel, club; II. iv. 154. 
 
i 7 6 
 
 unseasoned, unseasonable ; III. i. 105. 
 upswarm, assemble in swarms ; IV. ii. SO. 
 utis, see note, II. iv. 21. 
 
 vail, abate, lessen ; I. i. 129. 
 vain, foolish; V. v. 48. 
 varlet, servant; V. iii. 13. 
 vaward, vanguard; I. ii. 199. 
 venture, hazard, risk ; Epil. 8, 12. 
 Vice, grasp, clutch; II. i. 24. 
 virtue, strength, power; IV. i. 163. 
 virtuous, potent; IV. v. 76. 
 
 wanton, luxurious; I. i. 148: frivolous; IV. i. 191. 
 
 warden, staff of office ; IV. i. 125. 
 
 wassail candle, a candle used at a feast, and apparently 
 
 not of the best material; I. ii. 178. 
 watch-case, sentry-box, III. i. 17. 
 whipping-cheer, whipping-fare ; V. iv. 5. 
 whoreson, a noun and adjective that had lost its original 
 
 significance and was applied with the looseness of a 
 
 popular expletive; I. ii. 16. 
 winking, closing the eyes ; I. iii. 33. 
 withal, with; IV. ii. 95. 
 womb, belly; IV. iii. 24. 
 
 Woncot, Woodmancote, a village near Stratford ; V. i. 42. 
 wo't, wouldst; II. i. 63. 
 
 yeoman, bailiff's officer; II. i. 5. 
 
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