Puslapio vaizdai

that take purfes, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phabus, be, that wandring knight fo fair. And I pray thee, fweet wag, when thou art King Kingas God fave thy Grace, (Majefty I fhould fay, for grace thou wilt have none.)

P. Henry. What! none?

Fal. No, by my troth, not fo much as will ferve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

P. Henry. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry then, fweet wag, when thou art King, let not us that are fquires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's 'booty. Let us be Diana's foresters, gentle.. men of the fhade, minions of the Moon; and let men fay, we be men of good government, being governed as the fea is, by our noble and chaite miftrels the Moon, under whofe countenance we-steal.

P. Henry. Thou fay'ft well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us that are the Moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the fea, being govern'd as the fea is, by the Moon. As for proof, now: a purse of gold most refolute ly fnatch'd on Monday night, and molt diffolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with fwearing, lug out; and 1pent with crying, bring in: now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows

Fal. By the Lord, thou fay'st true, lad; and is not mine hoftefs of the tavern a moft fweet wench?

P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the caftle; and is not a buff-jerkin a moft fweet robe of durance?

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff-jerkin?

P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hoftefs of the tavern?


(a) This is a proof that the name of Sir John Oldcastle flood firft under this character of Falstaff.

6 beauty.... old edit. Theob. emend.


7 lay by

Fal. Well, thou haft call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No, I'll give thee thy due, thou haft paid all


P. Henry. Yea and elsewhere, fo far as my coin would ftretch, and where it would not I have us'd my credit.

Fal. Yea, and fo us'd it, that were it not here apparent, that thou art heir apparent-But I pry'thee, fweet wag, fhall there be gallows ftanding in England when thou art King? and refolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rufty curb of old father antick, the law? Do not thou, when thou art a King, hang a thief.

P. Henry. No; thou fhalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rare! I'll be a brave judge.

P. Henry. Thou judgeft falfe already: I mean thou fhalt have the hanging of the thieves, and fo become a rare hangman.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in fome fort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell you.

P. Henry. For obtaining of fuits?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of fuits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood I am as melancholy as a gib-cat, or a lugg'd bear.

P. Henry. Or an old Lion, or a lover's lute.

Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

P. Henry. What say'st thou to a Hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?

Fal. Thou haft the most unfavoury fimiles, and art indeed the most incomparative, rafcallieft, fweet young Prince But, Hal, I pr'ythee trouble me no more with vanity; I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: an old Lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, Sir; but I mark'd him not, and yet he talk'd very wifely, and in the street too.

8 comparative,

P. Henry.

P. Henry. Thou didft well; for wifdom cries out in the street, and no man regards it.

Fal. O, thou haft damnable 9'attraction, and art indeed able to corrupt a faint. Thou haft done much harm unto me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now I am, if a man fhould fpeak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over, by the Lord; an I do not, I am a villain. I'll be damn'd for never a King's fon in chriftendom.

P. Henry. Where shall we take a purfe to-morrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.

P. Henry. I fee a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no fin for a man to labour in his vocation.-Poins!

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"Now fhall we know if Gads-bill have fet a match. O, if men were to be faved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? this is the moft omnipotent villain, that ever cry'd, ftand, to a true man.

P. Henry. Good morrow, Ned.

Poins. Good morrow, fweet Hal. What fays Monfieur remorfe? what fays Sir John fack and fugar? Jack! how agree the devil and thou about thy foul, that thou foldest him on Good Friday last, for a cup of Madera, and a cold capon's leg?

P. Henry. Sir John ftands to his word, the devil fhall have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of verbs; He will give the devil his due.


Poins. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.

9 iteration,

1 Poins. Now fhall, &c. ... old edit, Thegb. emend.

P. Henry.

P. Henry. Elfe he had been damn'd for cozening the devil.

Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four a clock early at Gads-bill; there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purfes. I have vizards for you all; you have horses for your felves: Gads-bill lyes to-night in Rochester, I have befpoke fupper to-morrow in Eastcheap; we may do it as fecure as fleep: if you will go, I will ftuff your purfes full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hang'd.

Fal. Hear ye, redward, if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going.

Poins. You will, chops?

Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. Henry. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.

Fal. There's neither honefty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee; thou cam'ft not of the blood-royal, if thou dar'ft not cry, ftand, for ten fhillings.


P. Henry. Well then, once in my days I'll be a mad

Fal. Why, that's well faid.

P. Henry. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art King.

P. Henry. I care not.

Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the Prince and me alone; I will lay him down fuch reafons for this adven ture, that he fhall go.

Fal. Well, may'ft thou have the spirit of perfuafion, and he the ears of profiting! that what thou fpeak'ft may move, and what he hears may be believ'd; that the true Prince may, for recreation fake, prove a falfe thief; for the poor abufes of the time want countenance. wel, you fhall find me in East-cheap.


- P. Henry. Farewel, thou latter fpring! Farewel, allhallown fummer!

[Exit Fal. Poins.

Pains. Now, my good fweet hony Lord, ride with us to-morrow. I have a jeft to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gads-bill, fhall rob thofe men that we have already way-laid; your felf and I will not be there; and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my fhoul


P. Henry. But how fhall we part with them in setting


Poins. Why, we will fet forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves, which they fhall have no fooner atchiev'd, but we'll fet upon them.

P. Henry. Ay, but 'tis like that they will know us by our horfes, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be our felves.

Poins. Tut, our horfes they fhall not fee, I'll tye them in the wood; our vizards we will change after we leave them; and, firrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

P. Henry. But I doubt they will be too hard for us.

Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he fees reafon, I'll forfwear arms. The virtue of this jeft will be, the incomprehenfible lies that this fame fat rogue will tell us when we meet at fupper; how thirty at leaft he fought with, what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this, lyes the jest.

P. Henry. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things neceffary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eaftcheap, there I'll fup. Farewel!

Poins. Farewel, my Lord!

[Exit Poins.

P. Henry. I know you all, and will a while uphold

The unyok'd humour of your idleness;

Yet herein will I imitate the fun,

Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

2 Harvey, Rofil, . . . old edit. Theob, emend.


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