List iconHenry IV, Part 1:
Entire Play
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Henry IV, Part 1
Entire Play



Characters in the Play

Entire Play

Henry IV, Part 1, culminates in the battle of Shrewsbury between the king’s army and rebels seeking his crown. The…

Act 1, scene 1

King Henry meets with his advisers to discuss his proposed crusade to the Holy Land, but the discussion turns instead…

Act 1, scene 2

Prince Hal and Sir John Falstaff taunt each other, Hal warning Falstaff that he will one day be hanged as…

Act 1, scene 3

King Henry meets with Hotspur, Hotspur’s father (Northumberland), and his uncle (Worcester) to demand that Hotspur yield his prisoners to…

Act 2, scene 1

Gadshill, the “setter” for Falstaff and his fellow thieves, seeks information at an inn about the travelers whom they plan…

Act 2, scene 2

Falstaff, Peto, Bardolph, and Gadshill rob the travelers and are, in turn, robbed by Prince Hal and Poins in disguise.

Act 2, scene 3

Hotspur reads a letter from a nobleman who refuses to join the rebellion against King Henry. Lady Percy enters to…

Act 2, scene 4

At a tavern in Eastcheap, Prince Hal and Poins amuse themselves by tormenting a young waiter while waiting for Falstaff…

Act 3, scene 1

Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer, and the leader of the Welsh rebels, Glendower, meet in Wales to make final the terms of…

Act 3, scene 2

Prince Hal reconciles himself with his father by swearing to fight the rebels and to defeat Hotspur.

Act 3, scene 3

Falstaff tries to swindle the Hostess of the inn. Prince Hal offers Falstaff a command in the infantry.

Act 4, scene 1

Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas learn that Hotspur’s father, Northumberland, is too sick to join them in the coming battle. They…

Act 4, scene 2

Falstaff discloses to the audience how he has misused his commission as an officer to take money from men eager…

Act 4, scene 3

As Hotspur argues with his fellow commanders about when to fight, they are visited by Sir Walter Blunt, who brings…

Act 4, scene 4

The archbishop of York and Sir Michael, who sympathize with Hotspur, debate the chances of his success against the king’s…

Act 5, scene 1

Worcester and Vernon visit the king’s camp, where Worcester repeats the grievances that he says have led to the rebellion….

Act 5, scene 2

Worcester lies to Hotspur, telling him that the king made no offer of pardon and is ready to begin the…

Act 5, scene 3

The battle begins. Douglas kills Blunt, who is disguised as King Henry. Falstaff enters alone to disclose to the audience…

Act 5, scene 4

Prince Hal saves King Henry from death at the hands of Douglas. Hal then meets Hotspur. While they are fighting,…

Act 5, scene 5

The king’s forces having won, King Henry condemns Worcester and Vernon to death, and the king and his supporters prepare…

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Scene 1
Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl
of Westmoreland, with others.

 So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
 Find we a time for frighted peace to pant
 And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
 To be commenced in strands afar remote.
5 No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
 Shall daub her lips with her own children’s blood.
 No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
 Nor bruise her flow’rets with the armèd hoofs
 Of hostile paces. Those opposèd eyes,
10 Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
 All of one nature, of one substance bred,
 Did lately meet in the intestine shock
 And furious close of civil butchery,
 Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,
15 March all one way and be no more opposed
 Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies.
 The edge of war, like an ill-sheathèd knife,
 No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
 As far as to the sepulcher of Christ—
20 Whose soldier now, under whose blessèd cross
 We are impressèd and engaged to fight—

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 1

 Forthwith a power of English shall we levy,
 Whose arms were molded in their mothers’ womb
 To chase these pagans in those holy fields
25 Over whose acres walked those blessèd feet
 Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
 For our advantage on the bitter cross.
 But this our purpose now is twelve month old,
 And bootless ’tis to tell you we will go.
30 Therefor we meet not now. Then let me hear
 Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
 What yesternight our council did decree
 In forwarding this dear expedience.
 My liege, this haste was hot in question,
35 And many limits of the charge set down
 But yesternight, when all athwart there came
 A post from Wales loaden with heavy news,
 Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer,
 Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
40 Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
 Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
 A thousand of his people butcherèd,
 Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
 Such beastly shameless transformation
45 By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
 Without much shame retold or spoken of.
 It seems then that the tidings of this broil
 Brake off our business for the Holy Land.
 This matched with other did, my gracious lord.
50 For more uneven and unwelcome news
 Came from the north, and thus it did import:
 On Holy-rood Day the gallant Hotspur there,
 Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
 That ever valiant and approvèd Scot,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 1

55 At Holmedon met, where they did spend
 A sad and bloody hour—
 As by discharge of their artillery
 And shape of likelihood the news was told,
 For he that brought them, in the very heat
60 And pride of their contention did take horse,
 Uncertain of the issue any way.
 Here is a dear, a true-industrious friend,
 Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
 Stained with the variation of each soil
65 Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours,
 And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
 The Earl of Douglas is discomfited;
 Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
 Balked in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
70 On Holmedon’s plains. Of prisoners Hotspur took
 Mordake, Earl of Fife and eldest son
 To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Atholl,
 Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
 And is not this an honorable spoil?
75 A gallant prize? Ha, cousin, is it not?
 In faith, it is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
 Yea, there thou mak’st me sad, and mak’st me sin
 In envy that my Lord Northumberland
 Should be the father to so blest a son,
80 A son who is the theme of Honor’s tongue,
 Amongst a grove the very straightest plant,
 Who is sweet Fortune’s minion and her pride;
 Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
 See riot and dishonor stain the brow
85 Of my young Harry. O, that it could be proved
 That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
 In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

 And called mine “Percy,” his “Plantagenet”!
 Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
90 But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,
 Of this young Percy’s pride? The prisoners
 Which he in this adventure hath surprised
 To his own use he keeps, and sends me word
 I shall have none but Mordake, Earl of Fife.
95 This is his uncle’s teaching. This is Worcester,
 Malevolent to you in all aspects,
 Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
 The crest of youth against your dignity.
 But I have sent for him to answer this.
100 And for this cause awhile we must neglect
 Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
 Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
 Will hold at Windsor. So inform the lords.
 But come yourself with speed to us again,
105 For more is to be said and to be done
 Than out of anger can be utterèd.
WESTMORELAND I will, my liege.
They exit.

Scene 2
Enter Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff.

FALSTAFF Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
PRINCE Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old
 sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and
 sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast
5 forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst
 truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with
 the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of
 sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

 of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses,
10 and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in
 flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou
 shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time
 of the day.
FALSTAFF Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we
15 that take purses go by the moon and the seven
 stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wand’ring
 knight so fair. And I prithee, sweet wag, when thou
 art king, as God save thy Grace—Majesty, I should
 say, for grace thou wilt have none—
PRINCE 20What, none?
FALSTAFF No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to
 be prologue to an egg and butter.
PRINCE Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly.
FALSTAFF Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art king,
25 let not us that are squires of the night’s body be
 called thieves of the day’s beauty. Let us be Diana’s
 foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the
 moon, and let men say we be men of good government,
 being governed, as the sea is, by our noble
30 and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance
 we steal.
PRINCE Thou sayest well, and it holds well too, for the
 fortune of us that are the moon’s men doth ebb and
 flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by
35 the moon. As for proof now: a purse of gold most
 resolutely snatched on Monday night and most
 dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning, got with
 swearing “Lay by” and spent with crying “Bring
 in”; now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder,
40 and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the
FALSTAFF By the Lord, thou sayst true, lad. And is not
 my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

PRINCE As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle.
45 And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of
FALSTAFF How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy
 quips and thy quiddities? What a plague have I to
 do with a buff jerkin?
PRINCE 50Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess
 of the tavern?
FALSTAFF Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning
 many a time and oft.
PRINCE Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
FALSTAFF 55No, I’ll give thee thy due. Thou hast paid all
PRINCE Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would
 stretch, and where it would not, I have used my
FALSTAFF 60Yea, and so used it that were it not here
 apparent that thou art heir apparent—But I prithee,
 sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in
 England when thou art king? And resolution thus
 fubbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father Antic
65 the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a
PRINCE No, thou shalt.
FALSTAFF Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I’ll be a brave
PRINCE 70Thou judgest false already. I mean thou shalt
 have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a
 rare hangman.
FALSTAFF Well, Hal, well, and in some sort it jumps
 with my humor as well as waiting in the court, I
75 can tell you.
PRINCE For obtaining of suits?
FALSTAFF Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman
 hath no lean wardrobe. ’Sblood, I am as
 melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

PRINCE 80Or an old lion, or a lover’s lute.
FALSTAFF Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
PRINCE What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy
 of Moorditch?
FALSTAFF Thou hast the most unsavory similes, and
85 art indeed the most comparative, rascaliest, sweet
 young prince. But, Hal, I prithee trouble me no
 more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew
 where a commodity of good names were to be
 bought. An old lord of the council rated me the
90 other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked
 him not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I
 regarded him not, and yet he talked wisely, and in
 the street, too.
PRINCE Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the
95 streets and no man regards it.
FALSTAFF O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art
 indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done
 much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it.
 Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now
100 am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than
 one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I
 will give it over. By the Lord, an I do not, I am a
 villain. I’ll be damned for never a king’s son in
PRINCE 105Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
FALSTAFF Zounds, where thou wilt, lad. I’ll make one.
 An I do not, call me villain and baffle me.
PRINCE I see a good amendment of life in thee, from
 praying to purse-taking.
FALSTAFF 110Why, Hal, ’tis my vocation, Hal. ’Tis no sin
 for a man to labor in his vocation.

Enter Poins.

 Poins!—Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
 match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

 hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the
115 most omnipotent villain that ever cried “Stand!” to
 a true man.
PRINCE Good morrow, Ned.
POINS Good morrow, sweet Hal.—What says Monsieur
 Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-and-Sugar?
120 Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about
 thy soul that thou soldest him on Good Friday last
 for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon’s leg?
PRINCE Sir John stands to his word. The devil shall
 have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of
125 proverbs. He will give the devil his due.
POINS, to Falstaff Then art thou damned for keeping
 thy word with the devil.
PRINCE Else he had been damned for cozening the
POINS 130But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by
 four o’clock early at Gad’s Hill, there are pilgrims
 going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders
 riding to London with fat purses. I have vizards for
 you all. You have horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies
135 tonight in Rochester. I have bespoke supper tomorrow
 night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure as
 sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of
 crowns. If you will not, tarry at home and be
FALSTAFF 140Hear you, Yedward, if I tarry at home and
 go not, I’ll hang you for going.
POINS You will, chops?
FALSTAFF Hal, wilt thou make one?
PRINCE Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith.
FALSTAFF 145There’s neither honesty, manhood, nor
 good fellowship in thee, nor thou cam’st not of
 the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten
PRINCE Well then, once in my days I’ll be a madcap.
FALSTAFF 150Why, that’s well said.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

PRINCE Well, come what will, I’ll tarry at home.
FALSTAFF By the Lord, I’ll be a traitor then when thou
 art king.
PRINCE I care not.
POINS 155Sir John, I prithee leave the Prince and me
 alone. I will lay him down such reasons for this
 adventure that he shall go.
FALSTAFF Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion,
 and him the ears of profiting, that what thou
160 speakest may move, and what he hears may be
 believed, that the true prince may, for recreation
 sake, prove a false thief, for the poor abuses of the
 time want countenance. Farewell. You shall find me
 in Eastcheap.
PRINCE 165Farewell, thou latter spring. Farewell, Allhallown
 summer. Falstaff exits.
POINS Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us
 tomorrow. I have a jest to execute that I cannot
 manage alone. Falstaff, Peto, Bardolph, and Gadshill
170 shall rob those men that we have already
 waylaid. Yourself and I will not be there. And when
 they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them,
 cut this head off from my shoulders.
PRINCE How shall we part with them in setting forth?
POINS 175Why, we will set forth before or after them, and
 appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our
 pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon
 the exploit themselves, which they shall have no
 sooner achieved but we’ll set upon them.
PRINCE 180Yea, but ’tis like that they will know us by our
 horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment
 to be ourselves.
POINS Tut, our horses they shall not see; I’ll tie them
 in the wood. Our vizards we will change after we
185 leave them. And, sirrah, I have cases of buckram
 for the nonce, to immask our noted outward

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 2

PRINCE Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
POINS Well, for two of them, I know them to be as
190 true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the
 third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I’ll
 forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be the
 incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will
 tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty at least
195 he fought with, what wards, what blows, what
 extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this
 lives the jest.
PRINCE Well, I’ll go with thee. Provide us all things
 necessary and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap.
200 There I’ll sup. Farewell.
POINS Farewell, my lord. Poins exits.
 I know you all, and will awhile uphold
 The unyoked humor of your idleness.
 Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
205 Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
 To smother up his beauty from the world,
 That, when he please again to be himself,
 Being wanted, he may be more wondered at
 By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
210 Of vapors that did seem to strangle him.
 If all the year were playing holidays,
 To sport would be as tedious as to work,
 But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
 And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
215 So when this loose behavior I throw off
 And pay the debt I never promisèd,
 By how much better than my word I am,
 By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;
 And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
220 My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault,
 Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
 Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 I’ll so offend to make offense a skill,
 Redeeming time when men think least I will.
He exits.

Scene 3
Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur,
and Sir Walter Blunt, with others.

KING , to Northumberland, Worcester, and Hotspur 
 My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
 Unapt to stir at these indignities,
 And you have found me, for accordingly
 You tread upon my patience. But be sure
5 I will from henceforth rather be myself,
 Mighty and to be feared, than my condition,
 Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
 And therefore lost that title of respect
 Which the proud soul ne’er pays but to the proud.
10 Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves
 The scourge of greatness to be used on it,
 And that same greatness too which our own hands
 Have holp to make so portly.
15 Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see
 Danger and disobedience in thine eye.
 O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
 And majesty might never yet endure
 The moody frontier of a servant brow.
20 You have good leave to leave us. When we need
 Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.
Worcester exits.
 You were about to speak.
NORTHUMBERLAND  Yea, my good lord.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Those prisoners in your Highness’ name demanded,
25 Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
 Were, as he says, not with such strength denied
 As is delivered to your Majesty.
 Either envy, therefore, or misprision
 Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.
30 My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
 But I remember, when the fight was done,
 When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
 Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
 Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed,
35 Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped
 Showed like a stubble land at harvest home.
 He was perfumèd like a milliner,
 And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held
 A pouncet box, which ever and anon
40 He gave his nose and took ’t away again,
 Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
 Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked.
 And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
 He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
45 To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
 Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
 With many holiday and lady terms
 He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded
 My prisoners in your Majesty’s behalf.
50 I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
 To be so pestered with a popinjay,
 Out of my grief and my impatience
 Answered neglectingly I know not what—
 He should, or he should not; for he made me mad
55 To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet
 And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman
 Of guns, and drums, and wounds—God save the

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 And telling me the sovereignest thing on Earth
60 Was parmacety for an inward bruise,
 And that it was great pity, so it was,
 This villainous saltpeter should be digged
 Out of the bowels of the harmless Earth,
 Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
65 So cowardly, and but for these vile guns
 He would himself have been a soldier.
 This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
 I answered indirectly, as I said,
 And I beseech you, let not his report
70 Come current for an accusation
 Betwixt my love and your high Majesty.
 The circumstance considered, good my lord,
 Whate’er Lord Harry Percy then had said
 To such a person and in such a place,
75 At such a time, with all the rest retold,
 May reasonably die and never rise
 To do him wrong or any way impeach
 What then he said, so he unsay it now.
 Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,
80 But with proviso and exception
 That we at our own charge shall ransom straight
 His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer,
 Who, on my soul, hath willfully betrayed
 The lives of those that he did lead to fight
85 Against that great magician, damned Glendower,
 Whose daughter, as we hear, that Earl of March
 Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then
 Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
 Shall we buy treason and indent with fears
90 When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
 No, on the barren mountains let him starve,
 For I shall never hold that man my friend

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
 To ransom home revolted Mortimer.
HOTSPUR 95Revolted Mortimer!
 He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
 But by the chance of war. To prove that true
 Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
 Those mouthèd wounds, which valiantly he took
100 When on the gentle Severn’s sedgy bank
 In single opposition hand to hand
 He did confound the best part of an hour
 In changing hardiment with great Glendower.
 Three times they breathed, and three times did they
105 drink,
 Upon agreement, of swift Severn’s flood,
 Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
 Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds
 And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,
110 Blood-stainèd with these valiant combatants.
 Never did bare and rotten policy
 Color her working with such deadly wounds,
 Nor never could the noble Mortimer
 Receive so many, and all willingly.
115 Then let not him be slandered with revolt.
 Thou dost belie him, Percy; thou dost belie him.
 He never did encounter with Glendower.
 I tell thee, he durst as well have met the devil alone
 As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
120 Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
 Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.
 Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
 Or you shall hear in such a kind from me
 As will displease you.—My lord Northumberland,
125 We license your departure with your son.—
 Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
King exits with Blunt and others.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 An if the devil come and roar for them,
 I will not send them. I will after straight
 And tell him so, for I will ease my heart,
130 Albeit I make a hazard of my head.
 What, drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile.
 Here comes your uncle.

Enter Worcester.

HOTSPUR  Speak of Mortimer?
 Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul
135 Want mercy if I do not join with him.
 Yea, on his part I’ll empty all these veins
 And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,
 But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer
 As high in the air as this unthankful king,
140 As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.
 Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad.
 Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
 He will forsooth have all my prisoners,
 And when I urged the ransom once again
145 Of my wife’s brother, then his cheek looked pale,
 And on my face he turned an eye of death,
 Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
 I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaimed
 By Richard, that dead is, the next of blood?
150 He was; I heard the proclamation.
 And then it was when the unhappy king—
 Whose wrongs in us God pardon!—did set forth
 Upon his Irish expedition;

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 From whence he, intercepted, did return
155 To be deposed and shortly murderèd.
 And for whose death we in the world’s wide mouth
 Live scandalized and foully spoken of.
 But soft, I pray you. Did King Richard then
 Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
160 Heir to the crown?
NORTHUMBERLAND  He did; myself did hear it.
 Nay then, I cannot blame his cousin king
 That wished him on the barren mountains starve.
 But shall it be that you that set the crown
165 Upon the head of this forgetful man
 And for his sake wear the detested blot
 Of murderous subornation—shall it be
 That you a world of curses undergo,
 Being the agents or base second means,
170 The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
 O, pardon me that I descend so low
 To show the line and the predicament
 Wherein you range under this subtle king.
 Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
175 Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
 That men of your nobility and power
 Did gage them both in an unjust behalf
 (As both of you, God pardon it, have done)
 To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
180 And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
 And shall it in more shame be further spoken
 That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off
 By him for whom these shames you underwent?
 No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem
185 Your banished honors and restore yourselves
 Into the good thoughts of the world again,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt
 Of this proud king, who studies day and night
 To answer all the debt he owes to you
190 Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.
 Therefore I say—
WORCESTER  Peace, cousin, say no more.
 And now I will unclasp a secret book,
 And to your quick-conceiving discontents
195 I’ll read you matter deep and dangerous,
 As full of peril and adventurous spirit
 As to o’erwalk a current roaring loud
 On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.
 If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim!
200 Send danger from the east unto the west,
 So honor cross it from the north to south,
 And let them grapple. O, the blood more stirs
 To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
NORTHUMBERLAND , to Worcester 
 Imagination of some great exploit
205 Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
 By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap
 To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon,
 Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
 Where fathom line could never touch the ground,
210 And pluck up drownèd honor by the locks,
 So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
 Without corrival all her dignities.
 But out upon this half-faced fellowship!
 He apprehends a world of figures here,
215 But not the form of what he should attend.—
 Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
 I cry you mercy.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

WORCESTER  Those same noble Scots
 That are your prisoners—
HOTSPUR 220 I’ll keep them all.
 By God, he shall not have a Scot of them.
 No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not.
 I’ll keep them, by this hand!
WORCESTER  You start away
225 And lend no ear unto my purposes:
 Those prisoners you shall keep—
HOTSPUR Nay, I will. That’s flat!
 He said he would not ransom Mortimer,
 Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer.
230 But I will find him when he lies asleep,
 And in his ear I’ll hollo “Mortimer.”
 Nay, I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak
 Nothing but “Mortimer,” and give it him
 To keep his anger still in motion.
WORCESTER 235Hear you, cousin, a word.
 All studies here I solemnly defy,
 Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke.
 And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales—
 But that I think his father loves him not
240 And would be glad he met with some mischance—
 I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale.
 Farewell, kinsman. I’ll talk to you
 When you are better tempered to attend.
 Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
245 Art thou to break into this woman’s mood,
 Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
 Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with
 Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

250 Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
 In Richard’s time—what do you call the place?
 A plague upon it! It is in Gloucestershire.
 ’Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
 His uncle York, where I first bowed my knee
255 Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke.
 ’Sblood, when you and he came back from
NORTHUMBERLAND At Berkeley Castle.
HOTSPUR You say true.
260 Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
 This fawning greyhound then did proffer me:
 “Look when his infant fortune came to age,”
 And “gentle Harry Percy,” and “kind cousin.”
 O, the devil take such cozeners!—God forgive me!
265 Good uncle, tell your tale. I have done.
 Nay, if you have not, to it again.
 We will stay your leisure.
HOTSPUR  I have done, i’ faith.
 Then once more to your Scottish prisoners:
270 Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
 And make the Douglas’ son your only mean
 For powers in Scotland, which, for divers reasons
 Which I shall send you written, be assured
 Will easily be granted.—You, my lord,
275 Your son in Scotland being thus employed,
 Shall secretly into the bosom creep
 Of that same noble prelate well beloved,
 The Archbishop.
HOTSPUR Of York, is it not?
WORCESTER 280True, who bears hard
 His brother’s death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
 I speak not this in estimation,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 As what I think might be, but what I know
 Is ruminated, plotted, and set down,
285 And only stays but to behold the face
 Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
 I smell it. Upon my life it will do well.
 Before the game is afoot thou still let’st slip.
 Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot.
290 And then the power of Scotland and of York
 To join with Mortimer, ha?
WORCESTER  And so they shall.
 In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed.
 And ’tis no little reason bids us speed
295 To save our heads by raising of a head,
 For bear ourselves as even as we can,
 The King will always think him in our debt,
 And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
 Till he hath found a time to pay us home.
300 And see already how he doth begin
 To make us strangers to his looks of love.
 He does, he does. We’ll be revenged on him.
 Cousin, farewell. No further go in this
 Than I by letters shall direct your course.
305 When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
 I’ll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer,
 Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
 As I will fashion it, shall happily meet
 To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
310 Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust.
 Uncle, adieu. O, let the hours be short
 Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport.
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.

FIRST CARRIER Heigh-ho! An it be not four by the day,
 I’ll be hanged. Charles’s Wain is over the new
 chimney, and yet our horse not packed.—What,
OSTLER5, within Anon, anon.
FIRST CARRIER I prithee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle. Put a
 few flocks in the point. Poor jade is wrung in the
 withers out of all cess.

Enter another Carrier, with a lantern.

SECOND CARRIER Peas and beans are as dank here as a
10 dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the
 bots. This house is turned upside down since Robin
 ostler died.
FIRST CARRIER Poor fellow never joyed since the price
 of oats rose. It was the death of him.
SECOND CARRIER 15I think this be the most villainous
 house in all London road for fleas. I am stung like a
FIRST CARRIER Like a tench? By the Mass, there is
 ne’er a king christen could be better bit than I have
20 been since the first cock.
SECOND CARRIER Why, they will allow us ne’er a jordan,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 1

 and then we leak in your chimney, and your
 chamber-lye breeds fleas like a loach.
FIRST CARRIER What, ostler, come away and be
25 hanged. Come away.
SECOND CARRIER I have a gammon of bacon and two
 races of ginger to be delivered as far as Charing
FIRST CARRIER God’s body, the turkeys in my pannier
30 are quite starved.—What, ostler! A plague on thee!
 Hast thou never an eye in thy head? Canst not hear?
 An ’twere not as good deed as drink to break the
 pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be
 hanged. Hast no faith in thee?

Enter Gadshill.

GADSHILL 35Good morrow, carriers. What’s o’clock?
FIRST CARRIER I think it be two o’clock.
GADSHILL I prithee, lend me thy lantern to see my
 gelding in the stable.
FIRST CARRIER Nay, by God, soft. I know a trick worth
40 two of that, i’ faith.
GADSHILL, to Second Carrier I pray thee, lend me
SECOND CARRIER Ay, when, canst tell? “Lend me thy
 lantern,” quoth he. Marry, I’ll see thee hanged
45 first.
GADSHILL Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to
 come to London?
SECOND CARRIER Time enough to go to bed with a
 candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbor Mugs,
50 we’ll call up the gentlemen. They will along with
 company, for they have great charge.
Carriers exit.
GADSHILL What ho, chamberlain!

Enter Chamberlain.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 1

CHAMBERLAIN At hand, quoth pickpurse.
GADSHILL That’s even as fair as “at hand, quoth the
55 Chamberlain,” for thou variest no more from
 picking of purses than giving direction doth from
 laboring: thou layest the plot how.
CHAMBERLAIN Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds
 current that I told you yesternight: there’s a franklin
60 in the Wild of Kent hath brought three hundred
 marks with him in gold. I heard him tell it to one of
 his company last night at supper—a kind of auditor,
 one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows
 what. They are up already and call for eggs and
65 butter. They will away presently.
GADSHILL Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas’
 clerks, I’ll give thee this neck.
CHAMBERLAIN No, I’ll none of it. I pray thee, keep that
 for the hangman, for I know thou worshipest Saint
70 Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.
GADSHILL What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If
 I hang, I’ll make a fat pair of gallows, for if I hang,
 old Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is
 no starveling. Tut, there are other Troyans that
75 thou dream’st not of, the which for sport sake are
 content to do the profession some grace, that
 would, if matters should be looked into, for their
 own credit sake make all whole. I am joined with no
 foot-land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers,
80 none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms,
 but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters
 and great oneyers, such as can hold in, such
 as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner
 than drink, and drink sooner than pray, and yet,
85 zounds, I lie, for they pray continually to their saint
 the commonwealth, or rather not pray to her but
 prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and
 make her their boots.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 2

CHAMBERLAIN What, the commonwealth their boots?
90 Will she hold out water in foul way?
GADSHILL She will, she will. Justice hath liquored her.
 We steal as in a castle, cocksure. We have the
 receipt of fern seed; we walk invisible.
CHAMBERLAIN Nay, by my faith, I think you are more
95 beholding to the night than to fern seed for your
 walking invisible.
GADSHILL Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in
 our purchase, as I am a true man.
CHAMBERLAIN Nay, rather let me have it as you are a
100 false thief.
GADSHILL Go to. Homo is a common name to all men.
 Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable.
 Farewell, you muddy knave.
They exit.

Scene 2
Enter Prince, Poins, Bardolph, and Peto.

POINS Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff’s
 horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
PRINCE Stand close. Poins, Bardolph, and Peto exit.

Enter Falstaff.

FALSTAFF Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
PRINCE 5Peace, you fat-kidneyed rascal. What a brawling
 dost thou keep!
FALSTAFF Where’s Poins, Hal?
PRINCE He is walked up to the top of the hill. I’ll go
 seek him. Prince exits.
FALSTAFF 10I am accursed to rob in that thief’s company.
 The rascal hath removed my horse and tied him I
 know not where. If I travel but four foot by the
 square further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 2

 doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
15 ’scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn
 his company hourly any time this two-and-twenty
 years, and yet I am bewitched with the
 rogue’s company. If the rascal have not given me
 medicines to make me love him, I’ll be hanged. It
20 could not be else: I have drunk medicines.—Poins!
 Hal! A plague upon you both.—Bardolph! Peto!—
 I’ll starve ere I’ll rob a foot further. An ’twere not as
 good a deed as drink to turn true man and to leave
 these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever
25 chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground
 is threescore and ten miles afoot with me, and the
 stony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague
 upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
  (They whistle, within.) Whew! A plague upon you
30 all!

Enter the Prince, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph.

 Give me my horse, you rogues. Give me my horse
 and be hanged!
PRINCE Peace, you fat guts! Lie down, lay thine ear
 close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the
35 tread of travelers.
FALSTAFF Have you any levers to lift me up again being
 down? ’Sblood, I’ll not bear my own flesh so
 far afoot again for all the coin in thy father’s Exchequer.
 What a plague mean you to colt me
40 thus?
PRINCE Thou liest. Thou art not colted; thou art
FALSTAFF I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my
 horse, good king’s son.
PRINCE 45Out, you rogue! Shall I be your ostler?
FALSTAFF Hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
 garters! If I be ta’en, I’ll peach for this. An I have

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 2

 not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy
 tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison—when a jest
50 is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

Enter Gadshill.

FALSTAFF So I do, against my will.
POINS O, ’tis our setter. I know his voice.
BARDOLPH What news?
GADSHILL 55Case you, case you. On with your vizards.
 There’s money of the King’s coming down the hill.
 ’Tis going to the King’s Exchequer.
FALSTAFF You lie, you rogue. ’Tis going to the King’s
GADSHILL 60There’s enough to make us all.
FALSTAFF To be hanged.
PRINCE Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow
 lane. Ned Poins and I will walk lower. If they ’scape
 from your encounter, then they light on us.
PETO 65How many be there of them?
GADSHILL Some eight or ten.
FALSTAFF Zounds, will they not rob us?
PRINCE What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
FALSTAFF Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather,
70 but yet no coward, Hal.
PRINCE Well, we leave that to the proof.
POINS Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge.
 When thou need’st him, there thou shalt find him.
 Farewell and stand fast.
FALSTAFF 75Now cannot I strike him, if I should be
PRINCE, aside to Poins Ned, where are our disguises?
POINS, aside to Prince Here, hard by. Stand close.
The Prince and Poins exit.
FALSTAFF Now, my masters, happy man be his dole,
80 say I. Every man to his business.
They step aside.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 2

Enter the Travelers.

FIRST TRAVELER Come, neighbor, the boy shall lead
 our horses down the hill. We’ll walk afoot awhile
 and ease our legs.
THIEVES, advancing Stand!
TRAVELERS 85Jesus bless us!
FALSTAFF Strike! Down with them! Cut the villains’
 throats! Ah, whoreson caterpillars, bacon-fed
 knaves, they hate us youth. Down with them!
 Fleece them!
TRAVELERS 90O, we are undone, both we and ours
FALSTAFF Hang, you gorbellied knaves! Are you undone?
 No, you fat chuffs. I would your store were
 here. On, bacons, on! What, you knaves, young men
95 must live. You are grandjurors, are you? We’ll jure
 you, faith.
Here they rob them and bind them. They all exit.

Enter the Prince and Poins, disguised.

PRINCE The thieves have bound the true men. Now
 could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to
 London, it would be argument for a week, laughter
100 for a month, and a good jest forever.
POINS Stand close, I hear them coming.
They step aside.

Enter the Thieves again.

FALSTAFF Come, my masters, let us share, and then to
 horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not
 two arrant cowards, there’s no equity stirring.
105 There’s no more valor in that Poins than in a wild
As they are sharing, the Prince
and Poins set upon them.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 3

PRINCE Your money!
POINS Villains!
They all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or two,
runs away too, leaving the booty behind them.

 Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse.
110 The thieves are all scattered, and possessed with
 So strongly that they dare not meet each other.
 Each takes his fellow for an officer.
 Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
115 And lards the lean earth as he walks along.
 Were ’t not for laughing, I should pity him.
POINS How the fat rogue roared!
They exit.

Scene 3
Enter Hotspur alone, reading a letter.

HOTSPUR But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be
 well contented to be there, in respect of the love I
 bear your house.
 He could be contented; why is he
 not, then? In respect of the love he bears our
5 house—he shows in this he loves his own barn
 better than he loves our house. Let me see some
 more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous.
 Why, that’s certain. ’Tis dangerous to take a cold,
 to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my Lord Fool, out
10 of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
 The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends
 you have named uncertain, the time itself unsorted,
 and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise
 of so great an opposition.
 Say you so, say you so?
15 I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly
 hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 3

 the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid,
 our friends true and constant—a good plot,
 good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent
20 plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited
 rogue is this! Why, my Lord of York commends
 the plot and the general course of the action.
 Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain
 him with his lady’s fan. Is there not my father, my
25 uncle, and myself, Lord Edmund Mortimer, my
 Lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not
 besides the Douglas? Have I not all their letters to
 meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month,
 and are they not some of them set forward already?
30 What a pagan rascal is this—an infidel! Ha, you
 shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold
 heart, will he to the King and lay open all our
 proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to
 buffets for moving such a dish of skim milk with so
35 honorable an action! Hang him, let him tell the
 King. We are prepared. I will set forward tonight.

Enter his Lady.

 How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two
 O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
40 For what offense have I this fortnight been
 A banished woman from my Harry’s bed?
 Tell me, sweet lord, what is ’t that takes from thee
 Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
 Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth
45 And start so often when thou sit’st alone?
 Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
 And given my treasures and my rights of thee
 To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy?
 In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 3

50 And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
 Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
 Cry “Courage! To the field!” And thou hast talked
 Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
 Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
55 Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
 Of prisoners’ ransom, and of soldiers slain,
 And all the currents of a heady fight.
 Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
 And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,
60 That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
 Like bubbles in a late-disturbèd stream,
 And in thy face strange motions have appeared,
 Such as we see when men restrain their breath
 On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are
65 these?
 Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
 And I must know it, else he loves me not.
 What, ho!

Enter a Servant.

 Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
SERVANT 70He is, my lord, an hour ago.
 Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
 One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
 What horse? A roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
 It is, my lord.
HOTSPUR 75 That roan shall be my throne.
 Well, I will back him straight. O, Esperance!
 Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
Servant exits.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 3

LADY PERCY But hear you, my lord.
HOTSPUR What say’st thou, my lady?
LADY PERCY 80What is it carries you away?
HOTSPUR Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
LADY PERCY Out, you mad-headed ape!
 A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
 As you are tossed with. In faith,
85 I’ll know your business, Harry, that I will.
 I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
 About his title, and hath sent for you
 To line his enterprise; but if you go—
 So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
90 Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
 Directly unto this question that I ask.
 In faith, I’ll break thy little finger, Harry,
 An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
95 Away, you trifler. Love, I love thee not.
 I care not for thee, Kate. This is no world
 To play with mammets and to tilt with lips.
 We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns,
 And pass them current too.—Gods me, my horse!—
100 What say’st thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have
 with me?
 Do you not love me? Do you not indeed?
 Well, do not then, for since you love me not,
 I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
105 Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
HOTSPUR Come, wilt thou see me ride?
 And when I am a-horseback I will swear
 I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate,
 I must not have you henceforth question me
110 Whither I go, nor reason whereabout.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 Whither I must, I must; and to conclude
 This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
 I know you wise, but yet no farther wise
 Than Harry Percy’s wife; constant you are,
115 But yet a woman; and for secrecy
 No lady closer, for I well believe
 Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know,
 And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
LADY PERCY How? So far?
120 Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate,
 Whither I go, thither shall you go too.
 Today will I set forth, tomorrow you.
 Will this content you, Kate?
LADY PERCY  It must, of force.
They exit.

Scene 4
Enter Prince and Poins.

PRINCE Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room and
 lend me thy hand to laugh a little.
POINS Where hast been, Hal?
PRINCE With three or four loggerheads amongst three
5 or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very
 bass string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother
 to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their
 Christian names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. They
 take it already upon their salvation that though I be
10 but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy,
 and tell me flatly I am no proud jack, like Falstaff,
 but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy—by
 the Lord, so they call me—and when I am king of
 England, I shall command all the good lads in
15 Eastcheap. They call drinking deep “dyeing scarlet,”

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 and when you breathe in your watering, they
 cry “Hem!” and bid you “Play it off!” To conclude, I
 am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour
 that I can drink with any tinker in his own language
20 during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much
 honor that thou wert not with me in this action; but,
 sweet Ned—to sweeten which name of Ned, I give
 thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now
 into my hand by an underskinker, one that never
25 spake other English in his life than “Eight shillings
 and sixpence,” and “You are welcome,” with this
 shrill addition, “Anon, anon, sir.—Score a pint of
 bastard in the Half-moon,” or so. But, Ned, to
 drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do
30 thou stand in some by-room while I question my
 puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar, and
 do thou never leave calling “Francis,” that his tale
 to me may be nothing but “Anon.” Step aside, and
 I’ll show thee a precedent. Poins exits.
POINS35, within Francis!
PRINCE Thou art perfect.
POINS, within Francis!

Enter Francis, the Drawer.

FRANCIS Anon, anon, sir.—Look down into the Pomgarnet,
PRINCE 40Come hither, Francis.
FRANCIS My lord?
PRINCE How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
FRANCIS Forsooth, five years, and as much as to—
POINS, within Francis!
FRANCIS 45Anon, anon, sir.
PRINCE Five year! By ’r Lady, a long lease for the
 clinking of pewter! But, Francis, darest thou be
 so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture,
 and show it a fair pair of heels, and run
50 from it?

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

FRANCIS O Lord, sir, I’ll be sworn upon all the books
 in England, I could find in my heart—
POINS, within Francis!
FRANCIS Anon, sir.
PRINCE 55How old art thou, Francis?
FRANCIS Let me see. About Michaelmas next, I shall
POINS, within Francis!
FRANCIS Anon, sir.—Pray, stay a little, my lord.
PRINCE 60Nay, but hark you, Francis, for the sugar thou
 gavest me—’twas a pennyworth, was ’t not?
FRANCIS O Lord, I would it had been two!
PRINCE I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask
 me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
POINS65, within Francis!
FRANCIS Anon, anon.
PRINCE Anon, Francis? No, Francis. But tomorrow,
 Francis; or, Francis, o’ Thursday; or indeed, Francis,
 when thou wilt. But, Francis—
FRANCIS 70My lord?
PRINCE Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,
 not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
 smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch—
FRANCIS O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
PRINCE 75Why then, your brown bastard is your only
 drink, for look you, Francis, your white canvas
 doublet will sully. In Barbary, sir, it cannot come to
 so much.
FRANCIS What, sir?
POINS80, within Francis!
PRINCE Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them
Here they both call him. The Drawer stands amazed,
not knowing which way to go.

Enter Vintner.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

VINTNER What, stand’st thou still and hear’st such a
 calling? Look to the guests within.  Francis exits.
85 My lord, old Sir John with half a dozen more are at
 the door. Shall I let them in?
PRINCE Let them alone awhile, and then open the
 door.  Vintner exits. Poins!

Enter Poins.

POINS Anon, anon, sir.
PRINCE 90Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are
 at the door. Shall we be merry?
POINS As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark you,
 what cunning match have you made with this jest
 of the drawer. Come, what’s the issue?
PRINCE 95I am now of all humors that have showed
 themselves humors since the old days of Goodman
 Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve
 o’clock at midnight.

Enter Francis, in haste.

 What’s o’clock, Francis?
FRANCIS 100Anon, anon, sir. Francis exits.
PRINCE That ever this fellow should have fewer words
 than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His
 industry is upstairs and downstairs, his eloquence
 the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy’s
105 mind, the Hotspur of the north, he that kills me
 some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast,
 washes his hands, and says to his wife “Fie upon
 this quiet life! I want work.” “O my sweet Harry,”
 says she, “how many hast thou killed today?”
110 “Give my roan horse a drench,” says he, and answers
 “Some fourteen,” an hour after. “A trifle, a
 trifle.” I prithee, call in Falstaff. I’ll play Percy,
 and that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer
 his wife. “Rivo!” says the drunkard. Call in
115 Ribs, call in Tallow.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Peto, Bardolph;
and Francis, with wine.

POINS Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
FALSTAFF A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance
 too! Marry and amen!—Give me a cup of
 sack, boy.—Ere I lead this life long, I’ll sew netherstocks
120 and mend them, and foot them too. A plague
 of all cowards!—Give me a cup of sack, rogue!—Is
 there no virtue extant? He drinketh.
PRINCE Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of
 butter—pitiful-hearted Titan!—that melted at the
125 sweet tale of the sun’s? If thou didst, then behold
 that compound.
FALSTAFF, to Francis You rogue, here’s lime in this
 sack too.—There is nothing but roguery to be
 found in villainous man, yet a coward is worse than
130 a cup of sack with lime in it. A villainous coward! Go
 thy ways, old Jack. Die when thou wilt. If manhood,
 good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the
 Earth, then am I a shotten herring. There lives not
 three good men unhanged in England, and one of
135 them is fat and grows old, God help the while. A bad
 world, I say. I would I were a weaver. I could sing
 psalms, or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say
PRINCE How now, woolsack, what mutter you?
FALSTAFF 140A king’s son! If I do not beat thee out of thy
 kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy
 subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I’ll
 never wear hair on my face more. You, Prince of
PRINCE 145Why, you whoreson round man, what’s the
FALSTAFF Are not you a coward? Answer me to that—
 and Poins there?

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

POINS Zounds, you fat paunch, an you call me coward,
150 by the Lord, I’ll stab thee.
FALSTAFF I call thee coward? I’ll see thee damned ere
 I call thee coward, but I would give a thousand
 pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are
 straight enough in the shoulders you care not who
155 sees your back. Call you that backing of your
 friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them
 that will face me.—Give me a cup of sack.—I am a
 rogue if I drunk today.
PRINCE O villain, thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
160 drunk’st last.
FALSTAFF All is one for that.  (He drinketh.) A plague of
 all cowards, still say I.
PRINCE What’s the matter?
FALSTAFF What’s the matter? There be four of us here
165 have ta’en a thousand pound this day morning.
PRINCE Where is it, Jack, where is it?
FALSTAFF Where is it? Taken from us it is. A hundred
 upon poor four of us.
PRINCE What, a hundred, man?
FALSTAFF 170I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword
 with a dozen of them two hours together. I have
 ’scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through
 the doublet, four through the hose, my buckler
 cut through and through, my sword hacked like
175 a handsaw. Ecce signum! I never dealt better since
 I was a man. All would not do. A plague of
 all cowards! Let them speak.  Pointing to Gadshill,
 Bardolph, and Peto. 
If they speak more or
 less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of
180 darkness.
PRINCE Speak, sirs, how was it?
BARDOLPH We four set upon some dozen.
FALSTAFF Sixteen at least, my lord.
BARDOLPH And bound them.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

PETO 185No, no, they were not bound.
FALSTAFF You rogue, they were bound, every man of
 them, or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.
BARDOLPH As we were sharing, some six or seven
 fresh men set upon us.
FALSTAFF 190And unbound the rest, and then come in the
PRINCE What, fought you with them all?
FALSTAFF All? I know not what you call all, but if I
 fought not with fifty of them I am a bunch of
195 radish. If there were not two- or three-and-fifty
 upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged
PRINCE Pray God you have not murdered some of
FALSTAFF 200Nay, that’s past praying for. I have peppered
 two of them. Two I am sure I have paid, two rogues
 in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a
 lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my
 old ward. Here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four
205 rogues in buckram let drive at me.
PRINCE What, four? Thou said’st but two even now.
FALSTAFF Four, Hal, I told thee four.
POINS Ay, ay, he said four.
FALSTAFF These four came all afront, and mainly
210 thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all
 their seven points in my target, thus.
PRINCE Seven? Why there were but four even now.
FALSTAFF In buckram?
POINS Ay, four in buckram suits.
FALSTAFF 215Seven by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
PRINCE, to Poins Prithee, let him alone. We shall have
 more anon.
FALSTAFF Dost thou hear me, Hal?
PRINCE Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

FALSTAFF 220Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These
 nine in buckram that I told thee of—
PRINCE So, two more already.
FALSTAFF Their points being broken—
POINS Down fell their hose.
FALSTAFF 225Began to give me ground, but I followed me
 close, came in foot and hand, and, with a thought,
 seven of the eleven I paid.
PRINCE O monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out
 of two!
FALSTAFF 230But as the devil would have it, three misbegotten
 knaves in Kendal green came at my back,
 and let drive at me, for it was so dark, Hal, that thou
 couldst not see thy hand.
PRINCE These lies are like their father that begets
235 them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why,
 thou claybrained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou
 whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-catch—
FALSTAFF What, art thou mad? Art thou mad? Is not
 the truth the truth?
PRINCE 240Why, how couldst thou know these men in
 Kendal green when it was so dark thou couldst not
 see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason. What sayest
 thou to this?
POINS Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
FALSTAFF 245What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were
 at the strappado or all the racks in the world, I
 would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a
 reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plentiful
 as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon
250 compulsion, I.
PRINCE I’ll be no longer guilty of this sin. This sanguine
 coward, this bed-presser, this horse-backbreaker,
 this huge hill of flesh—
FALSTAFF ’Sblood, you starveling, you elfskin, you
255 dried neat’s tongue, you bull’s pizzle, you stockfish!

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 O, for breath to utter what is like thee! You tailor’s
 yard, you sheath, you bowcase, you vile standing
PRINCE Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again, and
260 when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons,
 hear me speak but this.
POINS Mark, Jack.
PRINCE We two saw you four set on four, and bound
 them and were masters of their wealth. Mark now
265 how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we
 two set on you four and, with a word, outfaced you
 from your prize, and have it, yea, and can show it
 you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried
 your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity,
270 and roared for mercy, and still run and roared, as
 ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou to hack
 thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in
 fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole
 canst thou now find out to hide thee from this open
275 and apparent shame?
POINS Come, let’s hear, Jack. What trick hast thou
FALSTAFF By the Lord, I knew you as well as he that
 made you. Why, hear you, my masters, was it for
280 me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the
 true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as
 Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not
 touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter.
 I was now a coward on instinct. I shall think
285 the better of myself, and thee, during my life—
 I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince.
 But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the
 money.—Hostess, clap to the doors.—Watch tonight,
 pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts
290 of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to
 you. What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

PRINCE Content, and the argument shall be thy running
FALSTAFF 295Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.

Enter Hostess.

HOSTESS O Jesu, my lord the Prince—
PRINCE How now, my lady the hostess, what sayst thou
 to me?
HOSTESS Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the
300 court at door would speak with you. He says he
 comes from your father.
PRINCE Give him as much as will make him a royal
 man and send him back again to my mother.
FALSTAFF What manner of man is he?
HOSTESS 305An old man.
FALSTAFF What doth Gravity out of his bed at midnight?
 Shall I give him his answer?
PRINCE Prithee do, Jack.
FALSTAFF Faith, and I’ll send him packing. He exits.
PRINCE 310Now, sirs.  To Gadshill. By ’r Lady, you fought
 fair.—So did you, Peto.—So did you, Bardolph.—
 You are lions too. You ran away upon instinct. You
 will not touch the true prince. No, fie!
BARDOLPH Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
PRINCE 315Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff’s
 sword so hacked?
PETO Why, he hacked it with his dagger and said he
 would swear truth out of England but he would
 make you believe it was done in fight, and persuaded
320 us to do the like.
BARDOLPH Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass
 to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our
 garments with it, and swear it was the blood of true
 men. I did that I did not this seven year before: I
325 blushed to hear his monstrous devices.
PRINCE O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever
 since thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire
 and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran’st away.
330 What instinct hadst thou for it?
BARDOLPH My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you
 behold these exhalations?
BARDOLPH What think you they portend?
PRINCE 335Hot livers and cold purses.
BARDOLPH Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
PRINCE No. If rightly taken, halter.

Enter Falstaff.

 Here comes lean Jack. Here comes bare-bone.—
 How now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long
340 is ’t ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
FALSTAFF My own knee? When I was about thy years,
 Hal, I was not an eagle’s talon in the waist. I could
 have crept into any alderman’s thumb-ring. A
 plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a
345 bladder. There’s villainous news abroad. Here was
 Sir John Bracy from your father. You must to the
 court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the
 north, Percy, and he of Wales that gave Amamon the
 bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore
350 the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a
 Welsh hook—what a plague call you him?
POINS Owen Glendower.
FALSTAFF Owen, Owen, the same, and his son-in-law
 Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that
355 sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs a-horseback
 up a hill perpendicular—
PRINCE He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol
 kills a sparrow flying.
FALSTAFF You have hit it.
PRINCE 360So did he never the sparrow.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

FALSTAFF Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him. He
 will not run.
PRINCE Why, what a rascal art thou then to praise him
 so for running?
FALSTAFF 365A-horseback, you cuckoo, but afoot he will
 not budge a foot.
PRINCE Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
FALSTAFF I grant you, upon instinct. Well, he is there
 too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps
370 more. Worcester is stolen away tonight. Thy father’s
 beard is turned white with the news. You may buy
 land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.
PRINCE Why then, it is like if there come a hot June,
 and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads
375 as they buy hobnails, by the hundreds.
FALSTAFF By the Mass, thou sayest true. It is like we
 shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,
 art not thou horrible afeard? Thou being heir
 apparent, could the world pick thee out three such
380 enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that spirit
 Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not
 horribly afraid? Doth not thy blood thrill at it?
PRINCE Not a whit, i’ faith. I lack some of thy instinct.
FALSTAFF Well, thou wilt be horribly chid tomorrow
385 when thou comest to thy father. If thou love me,
 practice an answer.
PRINCE Do thou stand for my father and examine me
 upon the particulars of my life.
FALSTAFF Shall I? Content.  He sits down. This chair
390 shall be my state, this dagger my scepter, and this
 cushion my crown.
PRINCE Thy state is taken for a joined stool, thy golden
 scepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich
 crown for a pitiful bald crown.
FALSTAFF 395Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of
 thee, now shalt thou be moved.—Give me a cup of

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 sack to make my eyes look red, that it may be
 thought I have wept, for I must speak in passion,
 and I will do it in King Cambyses’ vein.
PRINCE400, bowing Well, here is my leg.
FALSTAFF And here is my speech.  As King. Stand
 aside, nobility.
HOSTESS O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i’ faith!
FALSTAFF , as King 
 Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
HOSTESS 405O the Father, how he holds his countenance!
FALSTAFF , as King 
 For God’s sake, lords, convey my tristful queen,
 For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.
HOSTESS O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
 players as ever I see.
FALSTAFF 410Peace, good pint-pot. Peace, good tickle-brain.—
  As King. Harry, I do not only marvel
 where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou
 art accompanied. For though the camomile, the
 more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, so youth,
415 the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That
 thou art my son I have partly thy mother’s word,
 partly my own opinion, but chiefly a villainous
 trick of thine eye and a foolish hanging of thy
 nether lip that doth warrant me. If then thou be
420 son to me, here lies the point: why, being son to
 me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of
 heaven prove a micher and eat blackberries? A
 question not to be asked. Shall the son of England
 prove a thief and take purses? A question to be
425 asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast
 often heard of, and it is known to many in our land
 by the name of pitch. This pitch, as ancient writers
 do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou
 keepest. For, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in
430 drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion;

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 not in words only, but in woes also. And yet there is
 a virtuous man whom I have often noted in thy
 company, but I know not his name.
PRINCE What manner of man, an it like your Majesty?
FALSTAFF435, as King A goodly portly man, i’ faith, and a
 corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a
 most noble carriage, and, as I think, his age some
 fifty, or, by ’r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now
 I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man
440 should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me, for, Harry,
 I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be
 known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then
 peremptorily I speak it: there is virtue in that
 Falstaff; him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me
445 now, thou naughty varlet, tell me where hast thou
 been this month?
PRINCE Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for
 me, and I’ll play my father.
FALSTAFF, rising Depose me? If thou dost it half so
450 gravely, so majestically, both in word and matter,
 hang me up by the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a
 poulter’s hare.
PRINCE, sitting down Well, here I am set.
FALSTAFF And here I stand.—Judge, my masters.
PRINCE455, as King Now, Harry, whence come you?
FALSTAFF, as Prince My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
PRINCE, as King The complaints I hear of thee are
FALSTAFF, as Prince ’Sblood, my lord, they are false.
460 —Nay, I’ll tickle you for a young prince, i’ faith.
PRINCE, as King Swearest thou? Ungracious boy,
 henceforth ne’er look on me. Thou art violently
 carried away from grace. There is a devil haunts
 thee in the likeness of an old fat man. A tun of man
465 is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that
 trunk of humors, that bolting-hutch of beastliness,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard
 of sack, that stuffed cloakbag of guts, that roasted
 Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that
470 reverend Vice, that gray iniquity, that father ruffian,
 that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste
 sack and drink it? Wherein neat and cleanly but to
 carve a capon and eat it? Wherein cunning but in
 craft? Wherein crafty but in villainy? Wherein villainous
475 but in all things? Wherein worthy but in
FALSTAFF, as Prince I would your Grace would take
 me with you. Whom means your Grace?
PRINCE, as King That villainous abominable misleader
480 of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
FALSTAFF, as Prince My lord, the man I know.
PRINCE, as King I know thou dost.
FALSTAFF, as Prince But to say I know more harm in
 him than in myself were to say more than I know.
485 That he is old, the more the pity; his white hairs do
 witness it. But that he is, saving your reverence, a
 whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar
 be a fault, God help the wicked. If to be old and
 merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is
490 damned. If to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh’s
 lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord,
 banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins, but for
 sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack
 Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more
495 valiant being as he is old Jack Falstaff, banish not
 him thy Harry’s company, banish not him thy
 Harry’s company. Banish plump Jack, and banish
 all the world.
PRINCE I do, I will.
A loud knocking, and Bardolph, Hostess, and
Francis exit.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

Enter Bardolph running.

BARDOLPH 500O my lord, my lord, the Sheriff with a most
 monstrous watch is at the door.
FALSTAFF Out, you rogue.—Play out the play. I have
 much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

Enter the Hostess.

HOSTESS O Jesu, my lord, my lord—
PRINCE 505Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick.
 What’s the matter?
HOSTESS The Sheriff and all the watch are at the door.
 They are come to search the house. Shall I let them
FALSTAFF 510Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece
 of gold a counterfeit. Thou art essentially made
 without seeming so.
PRINCE And thou a natural coward without instinct.
FALSTAFF I deny your major. If you will deny the
515 Sheriff, so; if not, let him enter. If I become not a
 cart as well as another man, a plague on my
 bringing up. I hope I shall as soon be strangled with
 a halter as another.
PRINCE, standing Go hide thee behind the arras. The
520 rest walk up above.—Now, my masters, for a true
 face and good conscience.
FALSTAFF Both which I have had, but their date is out;
 and therefore I’ll hide me. He hides.
PRINCE Call in the Sheriff.
All but the Prince and Peto exit.

Enter Sheriff and the Carrier.

525 Now, Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?
 First pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
 Hath followed certain men unto this house.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

PRINCE What men?
 One of them is well known, my gracious lord.
530 A gross fat man.
CARRIER  As fat as butter.
 The man I do assure you is not here,
 For I myself at this time have employed him.
 And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee
535 That I will by tomorrow dinner time
 Send him to answer thee or any man
 For anything he shall be charged withal.
 And so let me entreat you leave the house.
 I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
540 Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
 It may be so. If he have robbed these men,
 He shall be answerable; and so farewell.
SHERIFF Good night, my noble lord.
 I think it is good morrow, is it not?
545 Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o’clock.
He exits with the Carrier.
PRINCE This oily rascal is known as well as Paul’s. Go
 call him forth.
PETO Falstaff!—Fast asleep behind the arras, and
 snorting like a horse.
PRINCE 550Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his
 pockets.  (He searcheth his pocket, and findeth certain
What hast thou found?
PETO Nothing but papers, my lord.
PRINCE Let’s see what they be. Read them.
PETO  reads 
555 Item, a capon,…2s. 2d.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 2. SC. 4

 Item, sauce,…4d.
 Item, sack, two gallons,…5s. 8d.
 Item, anchovies and sack after supper,…2s. 6d.
 Item, bread,…ob.

PRINCE 560O monstrous! But one halfpennyworth of
 bread to this intolerable deal of sack? What there is
 else, keep close. We’ll read it at more advantage.
 There let him sleep till day. I’ll to the court in the
 morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place
565 shall be honorable. I’ll procure this fat rogue a
 charge of foot, and I know his death will be a march
 of twelve score. The money shall be paid back again
 with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning,
 and so good morrow, Peto.
PETO 570Good morrow, good my lord.
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, and Owen

 These promises are fair, the parties sure,
 And our induction full of prosperous hope.
 Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower,
 Will you sit down? And uncle Worcester—
5 A plague upon it, I have forgot the map.
 No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy,
 Sit, good cousin Hotspur, for by that name
 As oft as Lancaster doth speak of you
 His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh
10 He wisheth you in heaven.
HOTSPUR  And you in hell,
 As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.
 I cannot blame him. At my nativity
 The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
15 Of burning cressets, and at my birth
 The frame and huge foundation of the Earth
 Shaked like a coward.
HOTSPUR  Why, so it would have done

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 At the same season if your mother’s cat
20 Had but kittened, though yourself had never been
 I say the Earth did shake when I was born.
 And I say the Earth was not of my mind,
 If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
25 The heavens were all on fire; the Earth did tremble.
 O, then the Earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
 And not in fear of your nativity.
 Diseasèd nature oftentimes breaks forth
 In strange eruptions; oft the teeming Earth
30 Is with a kind of colic pinched and vexed
 By the imprisoning of unruly wind
 Within her womb, which, for enlargement striving,
 Shakes the old beldam Earth and topples down
 Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth
35 Our grandam Earth, having this distemp’rature,
 In passion shook.
GLENDOWER  Cousin, of many men
 I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
 To tell you once again that at my birth
40 The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
 The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
 Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
 These signs have marked me extraordinary,
 And all the courses of my life do show
45 I am not in the roll of common men.
 Where is he living, clipped in with the sea
 That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
 Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
 And bring him out that is but woman’s son
50 Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
 And hold me pace in deep experiments.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 I think there’s no man speaks better Welsh.
 I’ll to dinner.
 Peace, cousin Percy. You will make him mad.
55 I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
 Why, so can I, or so can any man,
 But will they come when you do call for them?
 Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the
60 And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil
 By telling truth. Tell truth and shame the devil.
 If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
 And I’ll be sworn I have power to shame him
65 O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!
 Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
 Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
 Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
 And sandy-bottomed Severn have I sent him
70 Bootless home and weather-beaten back.
 Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
 How ’scapes he agues, in the devil’s name?
 Come, here is the map. Shall we divide our right
 According to our threefold order ta’en?
75 The Archdeacon hath divided it
 Into three limits very equally:

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
 By south and east is to my part assigned;
 All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
80 And all the fertile land within that bound
 To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you
 The remnant northward lying off from Trent.
 And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
 Which being sealèd interchangeably—
85 A business that this night may execute—
 Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I
 And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
 To meet your father and the Scottish power,
 As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
90 My father Glendower is not ready yet,
 Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
  To Glendower. Within that space you may have
 drawn together
 Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen.
95 A shorter time shall send me to you, lords,
 And in my conduct shall your ladies come,
 From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
 For there will be a world of water shed
 Upon the parting of your wives and you.
HOTSPUR , looking at the map 
100 Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
 In quantity equals not one of yours.
 See how this river comes me cranking in
 And cuts me from the best of all my land
 A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
105 I’ll have the current in this place dammed up,
 And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
 In a new channel, fair and evenly.
 It shall not wind with such a deep indent
 To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

110 Not wind? It shall, it must. You see it doth.
MORTIMER , to Hotspur 
 Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs
 me up
 With like advantage on the other side,
 Gelding the opposèd continent as much
115 As on the other side it takes from you.
 Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
 And on this north side win this cape of land,
 And then he runs straight and even.
 I’ll have it so. A little charge will do it.
GLENDOWER 120I’ll not have it altered.
HOTSPUR Will not you?
GLENDOWER No, nor you shall not.
HOTSPUR Who shall say me nay?
GLENDOWER Why, that will I.
125 Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.
 I can speak English, lord, as well as you,
 For I was trained up in the English court,
 Where being but young I framèd to the harp
 Many an English ditty lovely well
130 And gave the tongue a helpful ornament—
 A virtue that was never seen in you.
 Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.
 I had rather be a kitten and cry “mew”
 Than one of these same meter balladmongers.
135 I had rather hear a brazen can’stick turned,
 Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree,
 And that would set my teeth nothing an edge,
 Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
 ’Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

GLENDOWER 140Come, you shall have Trent turned.
 I do not care. I’ll give thrice so much land
 To any well-deserving friend;
 But in the way of bargain, mark you me,
 I’ll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
145 Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?
 The moon shines fair. You may away by night.
 I’ll haste the writer, and withal
 Break with your wives of your departure hence.
 I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
150 So much she doteth on her Mortimer. He exits.
 Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!
 I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me
 With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
 Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
155 And of a dragon and a finless fish,
 A clip-winged griffin and a moulten raven,
 A couching lion and a ramping cat,
 And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
 As puts me from my faith. I tell you what—
160 He held me last night at least nine hours
 In reckoning up the several devils’ names
 That were his lackeys. I cried “Hum,” and “Well, go
 But marked him not a word. O, he is as tedious
165 As a tired horse, a railing wife,
 Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live
 With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
 Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
 In any summer house in Christendom.
170 In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 Exceedingly well read and profited
 In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
 And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
 As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
175 He holds your temper in a high respect
 And curbs himself even of his natural scope
 When you come cross his humor. Faith, he does.
 I warrant you that man is not alive
 Might so have tempted him as you have done
180 Without the taste of danger and reproof.
 But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
WORCESTER , to Hotspur 
 In faith, my lord, you are too willful-blame,
 And, since your coming hither, have done enough
 To put him quite besides his patience.
185 You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.
 Though sometimes it show greatness, courage,
 And that’s the dearest grace it renders you—
 Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
190 Defect of manners, want of government,
 Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,
 The least of which, haunting a nobleman,
 Loseth men’s hearts and leaves behind a stain
 Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
195 Beguiling them of commendation.
 Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed!
 Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

Enter Glendower with the Ladies.

 This is the deadly spite that angers me:
 My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
200 My daughter weeps; she’ll not part with you.
 She’ll be a soldier too, she’ll to the wars.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
 Shall follow in your conduct speedily.
Glendower speaks to her in Welsh,
and she answers him in the same.

 She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,
205 One that no persuasion can do good upon.
The Lady speaks in Welsh.
 I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh
 Which thou pourest down from these swelling
 I am too perfect in, and but for shame
210 In such a parley should I answer thee.
The Lady speaks again in Welsh. They kiss.
 I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
 And that’s a feeling disputation;
 But I will never be a truant, love,
 Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue
215 Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penned,
 Sung by a fair queen in a summer’s bower,
 With ravishing division, to her lute.
 Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
The Lady speaks again in Welsh.
 O, I am ignorance itself in this!
220 She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
 And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
 And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
 And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
 Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
225 Making such difference ’twixt wake and sleep
 As is the difference betwixt day and night

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 1

 The hour before the heavenly harnessed team
 Begins his golden progress in the east.
 With all my heart I’ll sit and hear her sing.
230 By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.
 Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you
 Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
 And straight they shall be here. Sit and attend.
 Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.
235 Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy
LADY PERCY Go, you giddy goose.
The music plays.
 Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh,
 And ’tis no marvel he is so humorous.
240 By ’r Lady, he is a good musician.
LADY PERCY Then should you be nothing but musical,
 for you are altogether governed by humors. Lie
 still, you thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.
HOTSPUR I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in
245 Irish.
LADY PERCY Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
LADY PERCY Then be still.
HOTSPUR Neither; ’tis a woman’s fault.
LADY PERCY 250Now God help thee!
HOTSPUR To the Welsh lady’s bed.
LADY PERCY What’s that?
HOTSPUR Peace, she sings.
Here the Lady sings a Welsh song.
HOTSPUR Come, Kate, I’ll have your song too.
LADY PERCY 255Not mine, in good sooth.
HOTSPUR Not yours, in good sooth! Heart, you swear

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 like a comfit-maker’s wife! “Not you, in good
 sooth,” and “as true as I live,” and “as God shall
 mend me,” and “as sure as day”—
260 And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths
 As if thou never walk’st further than Finsbury.
 Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
 A good mouth-filling oath, and leave “in sooth,”
 And such protest of pepper-gingerbread
265 To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens.
 Come, sing.
LADY PERCY I will not sing.
HOTSPUR ’Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast
 teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I’ll
270 away within these two hours, and so come in when
 you will. He exits.
 Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow
 As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
 By this our book is drawn. We’ll but seal,
275 And then to horse immediately.
MORTIMER With all my heart.
They exit.

Scene 2
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, and others.

 Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I
 Must have some private conference, but be near at
 For we shall presently have need of you.
Lords exit.
5 I know not whether God will have it so
 For some displeasing service I have done,
 That, in His secret doom, out of my blood

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 He’ll breed revengement and a scourge for me.
 But thou dost in thy passages of life
10 Make me believe that thou art only marked
 For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
 To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
 Could such inordinate and low desires,
 Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean
15 attempts,
 Such barren pleasures, rude society
 As thou art matched withal, and grafted to,
 Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
 And hold their level with thy princely heart?
20 So please your Majesty, I would I could
 Quit all offenses with as clear excuse
 As well as I am doubtless I can purge
 Myself of many I am charged withal.
 Yet such extenuation let me beg
25 As, in reproof of many tales devised,
 Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,
 By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers,
 I may for some things true, wherein my youth
 Hath faulty wandered and irregular,
30 Find pardon on my true submission.
 God pardon thee. Yet let me wonder, Harry,
 At thy affections, which do hold a wing
 Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
 Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
35 Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
 And art almost an alien to the hearts
 Of all the court and princes of my blood.
 The hope and expectation of thy time
 Is ruined, and the soul of every man
40 Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
 Had I so lavish of my presence been,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
 So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
 Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
45 Had still kept loyal to possession
 And left me in reputeless banishment,
 A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
 By being seldom seen, I could not stir
 But like a comet I was wondered at,
50 That men would tell their children “This is he.”
 Others would say “Where? Which is Bolingbroke?”
 And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
 And dressed myself in such humility
 That I did pluck allegiance from men’s hearts,
55 Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
 Even in the presence of the crownèd king.
 Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
 My presence, like a robe pontifical,
 Ne’er seen but wondered at, and so my state,
60 Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
 And won by rareness such solemnity.
 The skipping king, he ambled up and down
 With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
 Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,
65 Mingled his royalty with cap’ring fools,
 Had his great name profanèd with their scorns,
 And gave his countenance, against his name,
 To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
 Of every beardless vain comparative;
70 Grew a companion to the common streets,
 Enfeoffed himself to popularity,
 That, being daily swallowed by men’s eyes,
 They surfeited with honey and began
 To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
75 More than a little is by much too much.
 So, when he had occasion to be seen,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
 Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes
 As, sick and blunted with community,
80 Afford no extraordinary gaze
 Such as is bent on sunlike majesty
 When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,
 But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,
 Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect
85 As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
 Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.
 And in that very line, Harry, standest thou,
 For thou hast lost thy princely privilege
 With vile participation. Not an eye
90 But is aweary of thy common sight,
 Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more,
 Which now doth that I would not have it do,
 Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
 I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,
95 Be more myself.
KING For all the world
 As thou art to this hour was Richard then
 When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,
 And even as I was then is Percy now.
100 Now, by my scepter, and my soul to boot,
 He hath more worthy interest to the state
 Than thou, the shadow of succession.
 For of no right, nor color like to right,
 He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
105 Turns head against the lion’s armèd jaws,
 And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
 Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on
 To bloody battles and to bruising arms.
 What never-dying honor hath he got
110 Against renownèd Douglas, whose high deeds,
 Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 Holds from all soldiers chief majority
 And military title capital
 Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
115 Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling
 This infant warrior, in his enterprises
 Discomfited great Douglas, ta’en him once,
 Enlargèd him, and made a friend of him,
120 To fill the mouth of deep defiance up
 And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
 And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
 The Archbishop’s Grace of York, Douglas,
125 Capitulate against us and are up.
 But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
 Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
 Which art my nearest and dearest enemy?
 Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
130 Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
 To fight against me under Percy’s pay,
 To dog his heels, and curtsy at his frowns,
 To show how much thou art degenerate.
 Do not think so. You shall not find it so.
135 And God forgive them that so much have swayed
 Your Majesty’s good thoughts away from me.
 I will redeem all this on Percy’s head,
 And, in the closing of some glorious day,
 Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
140 When I will wear a garment all of blood
 And stain my favors in a bloody mask,
 Which, washed away, shall scour my shame with it.
 And that shall be the day, whene’er it lights,
 That this same child of honor and renown,
145 This gallant Hotspur, this all-praisèd knight,
 And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 2

 For every honor sitting on his helm,
 Would they were multitudes, and on my head
 My shames redoubled! For the time will come
150 That I shall make this northern youth exchange
 His glorious deeds for my indignities.
 Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
 To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf.
 And I will call him to so strict account
155 That he shall render every glory up,
 Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
 Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
 This in the name of God I promise here,
 The which if He be pleased I shall perform,
160 I do beseech your Majesty may salve
 The long-grown wounds of my intemperance.
 If not, the end of life cancels all bands,
 And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
 Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
165 A hundred thousand rebels die in this.
 Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.

Enter Blunt.

 How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed.
 So hath the business that I come to speak of.
 Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
170 That Douglas and the English rebels met
 The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.
 A mighty and a fearful head they are,
 If promises be kept on every hand,
 As ever offered foul play in a state.
175 The Earl of Westmoreland set forth today,
 With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster,
 For this advertisement is five days old.—

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

 On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward.
 On Thursday we ourselves will march. Our meeting
180 Is Bridgenorth. And, Harry, you shall march
 Through Gloucestershire; by which account,
 Our business valuèd, some twelve days hence
 Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.
 Our hands are full of business. Let’s away.
185 Advantage feeds him fat while men delay.
They exit.

Scene 3
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.

FALSTAFF Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since
 this last action? Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle?
 Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady’s
 loose gown. I am withered like an old applejohn.
5 Well, I’ll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in
 some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then
 I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not
 forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I
 am a peppercorn, a brewer’s horse. The inside of a
10 church! Company, villainous company, hath been
 the spoil of me.
BARDOLPH Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live
FALSTAFF Why, there is it. Come, sing me a bawdy
15 song, make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a
 gentleman need to be, virtuous enough: swore
 little; diced not above seven times—a week; went to
 a bawdy house not above once in a quarter—of an
 hour; paid money that I borrowed—three or four
20 times; lived well and in good compass; and now I
 live out of all order, out of all compass.
BARDOLPH Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

 needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable
 compass, Sir John.
FALSTAFF 25Do thou amend thy face, and I’ll amend my
 life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern
 in the poop, but ’tis in the nose of thee. Thou art the
 Knight of the Burning Lamp.
BARDOLPH Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
FALSTAFF 30No, I’ll be sworn, I make as good use of it as
 many a man doth of a death’s-head or a memento
. I never see thy face but I think upon hellfire
 and Dives that lived in purple, for there he is in his
 robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given
35 to virtue, I would swear by thy face. My oath should
 be “By this fire, that’s God’s angel.” But thou art
 altogether given over, and wert indeed, but for the
 light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When
 thou ran’st up Gad’s Hill in the night to catch my
40 horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis
, or a ball of wildfire, there’s no purchase in
 money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting
 bonfire-light. Thou hast saved me a thousand
 marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the
45 night betwixt tavern and tavern, but the sack that
 thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as
 good cheap at the dearest chandler’s in Europe. I
 have maintained that salamander of yours with fire
 any time this two-and-thirty years, God reward me
50 for it.
BARDOLPH ’Sblood, I would my face were in your
FALSTAFF Godamercy, so should I be sure to be

Enter Hostess.

55 How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired
 yet who picked my pocket?

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

HOSTESS Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John,
 do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have
 searched, I have enquired, so has my husband,
60 man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant.
 The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house
FALSTAFF You lie, hostess. Bardolph was shaved and
 lost many a hair, and I’ll be sworn my pocket was
65 picked. Go to, you are a woman, go.
HOSTESS Who, I? No, I defy thee! God’s light, I was
 never called so in mine own house before.
FALSTAFF Go to, I know you well enough.
HOSTESS No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John. I
70 know you, Sir John. You owe me money, Sir John,
 and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I
 bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.
FALSTAFF Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them
 away to bakers’ wives; they have made bolters of
75 them.
HOSTESS Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight
 shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir
 John, for your diet and by-drinkings and money
 lent you, four-and-twenty pound.
FALSTAFF80, pointing to Bardolph He had his part of it.
 Let him pay.
HOSTESS He? Alas, he is poor. He hath nothing.
FALSTAFF How, poor? Look upon his face. What call
 you rich? Let them coin his nose. Let them coin his
85 cheeks. I’ll not pay a denier. What, will you make a
 younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine
 inn but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a
 seal ring of my grandfather’s worth forty mark.
HOSTESS, to Bardolph O Jesu, I have heard the Prince
90 tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was
FALSTAFF How? The Prince is a jack, a sneak-up.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

 ’Sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him like a
 dog if he would say so.

Enter the Prince marching, with Peto, and Falstaff
meets him playing upon his truncheon like a fife.

95 How now, lad, is the wind in that door, i’ faith? Must
 we all march?
BARDOLPH Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
HOSTESS, to Prince My lord, I pray you, hear me.
PRINCE What say’st thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth
100 thy husband? I love him well; he is an honest man.
HOSTESS Good my lord, hear me.
FALSTAFF Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.
PRINCE What say’st thou, Jack?
FALSTAFF The other night I fell asleep here, behind the
105 arras, and had my pocket picked. This house is
 turned bawdy house; they pick pockets.
PRINCE What didst thou lose, Jack?
FALSTAFF Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four
 bonds of forty pound apiece, and a seal ring of my
110 grandfather’s.
PRINCE A trifle, some eightpenny matter.
HOSTESS So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard
 your Grace say so. And, my lord, he speaks most
 vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man, as he is, and
115 said he would cudgel you.
PRINCE What, he did not!
HOSTESS There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood
 in me else.
FALSTAFF There’s no more faith in thee than in a
120 stewed prune, nor no more truth in thee than in a
 drawn fox, and for womanhood, Maid Marian may
 be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee. Go, you
 thing, go.
HOSTESS Say, what thing, what thing?
FALSTAFF 125What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

HOSTESS I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou
 shouldst know it! I am an honest man’s wife, and,
 setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to
 call me so.
FALSTAFF 130Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a
 beast to say otherwise.
HOSTESS Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?
FALSTAFF What beast? Why, an otter.
PRINCE An otter, Sir John. Why an otter?
FALSTAFF 135Why, she’s neither fish nor flesh; a man
 knows not where to have her.
HOSTESS Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or
 any man knows where to have me, thou knave,
PRINCE 140Thou sayst true, hostess, and he slanders thee
 most grossly.
HOSTESS So he doth you, my lord, and said this other
 day you owed him a thousand pound.
PRINCE Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
FALSTAFF 145A thousand pound, Hal? A million. Thy love is
 worth a million; thou owest me thy love.
HOSTESS Nay, my lord, he called you “jack,” and said
 he would cudgel you.
FALSTAFF Did I, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH 150Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
FALSTAFF Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
PRINCE I say ’tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy
 word now?
FALSTAFF Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but
155 man, I dare, but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I
 fear the roaring of the lion’s whelp.
PRINCE And why not as the lion?
FALSTAFF The King himself is to be feared as the lion.
 Dost thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father?
160 Nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break.
PRINCE O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

 thy knees! But, sirrah, there’s no room for faith,
 truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine. It is all
 filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest
165 woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou whoreson,
 impudent, embossed rascal, if there were
 anything in thy pocket but tavern reckonings,
 memorandums of bawdy houses, and one poor
 pennyworth of sugar candy to make thee long-winded,
170 if thy pocket were enriched with any other
 injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will
 stand to it! You will not pocket up wrong! Art thou
 not ashamed?
FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the
175 state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor
 Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I
 have more flesh than another man and therefore
 more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my
PRINCE 180It appears so by the story.
FALSTAFF Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready
 breakfast, love thy husband, look to thy servants,
 cherish thy guests. Thou shalt find me tractable
 to any honest reason. Thou seest I am pacified still.
185 Nay, prithee, begone.  (Hostess exits.) Now, Hal, to
 the news at court. For the robbery, lad, how is that
PRINCE O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to
 thee. The money is paid back again.
FALSTAFF 190O, I do not like that paying back. ’Tis a double
PRINCE I am good friends with my father and may do
FALSTAFF Rob me the Exchequer the first thing thou
195 dost, and do it with unwashed hands too.
BARDOLPH Do, my lord.
PRINCE I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 3. SC. 3

FALSTAFF I would it had been of horse. Where shall I
 find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief of
200 the age of two-and-twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously
 unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these
 rebels. They offend none but the virtuous. I laud
 them; I praise them.
PRINCE Bardolph.
BARDOLPH 205My lord.
PRINCE , handing Bardolph papers 
 Go, bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,
 To my brother John; this to my Lord of
 Westmoreland. Bardolph exits.
 Go, Peto, to horse, to horse, for thou and I
210 Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.
Peto exits.
 Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple hall
 At two o’clock in the afternoon;
 There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive
 Money and order for their furniture.
215 The land is burning. Percy stands on high,
 And either we or they must lower lie. He exits.
 Rare words, brave world!—Hostess, my breakfast,
 O, I could wish this tavern were my drum.
He exits.

Scene 1
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.

 Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth
 In this fine age were not thought flattery,
 Such attribution should the Douglas have
 As not a soldier of this season’s stamp
5 Should go so general current through the world.
 By God, I cannot flatter. I do defy
 The tongues of soothers. But a braver place
 In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself.
 Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
DOUGLAS 10Thou art the king of honor.
 No man so potent breathes upon the ground
 But I will beard him.
HOTSPUR  Do so, and ’tis well.

Enter a Messenger with letters.

 What letters hast thou there?  To Douglas. I can but
15 thank you.
MESSENGER These letters come from your father.
 Letters from him! Why comes he not himself?
 He cannot come, my lord. He is grievous sick.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 1

 Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick
20 In such a justling time? Who leads his power?
 Under whose government come they along?
MESSENGER , handing letter to Hotspur, who begins
 reading it
 His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.
 I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
 He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth,
25 And, at the time of my departure thence,
 He was much feared by his physicians.
 I would the state of time had first been whole
 Ere he by sickness had been visited.
 His health was never better worth than now.
30 Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect
 The very lifeblood of our enterprise.
 ’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
 He writes me here that inward sickness—
 And that his friends by deputation
35 Could not so soon be drawn, nor did he think it
 To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
 On any soul removed but on his own;
 Yet doth he give us bold advertisement
40 That with our small conjunction we should on
 To see how fortune is disposed to us,
 For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
 Because the King is certainly possessed
 Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
45 Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 1

 A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off!
 And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want
 Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good
 To set the exact wealth of all our states
50 All at one cast? To set so rich a main
 On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
 It were not good, for therein should we read
 The very bottom and the soul of hope,
 The very list, the very utmost bound
55 Of all our fortunes.
 Faith, and so we should, where now remains
 A sweet reversion. We may boldly spend
 Upon the hope of what is to come in.
 A comfort of retirement lives in this.
60 A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
 If that the devil and mischance look big
 Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
 But yet I would your father had been here.
 The quality and hair of our attempt
65 Brooks no division. It will be thought
 By some that know not why he is away
 That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
 Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence.
 And think how such an apprehension
70 May turn the tide of fearful faction
 And breed a kind of question in our cause.
 For well you know, we of the off’ring side
 Must keep aloof from strict arbitrament,
 And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
75 The eye of reason may pry in upon us.
 This absence of your father’s draws a curtain

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 1

 That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
 Before not dreamt of.
HOTSPUR  You strain too far.
80 I rather of his absence make this use:
 It lends a luster and more great opinion,
 A larger dare, to our great enterprise
 Than if the Earl were here, for men must think
 If we without his help can make a head
85 To push against a kingdom, with his help
 We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.
 Yet all goes well; yet all our joints are whole.
 As heart can think. There is not such a word
 Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

90 My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.
 Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
 The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
 Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John.
 No harm, what more?
VERNON 95 And further I have learned
 The King himself in person is set forth,
 Or hitherwards intended speedily,
 With strong and mighty preparation.
 He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
100 The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
 And his comrades, that daffed the world aside
 And bid it pass?
VERNON  All furnished, all in arms,
 All plumed like estridges that with the wind
105 Bated like eagles having lately bathed,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 1

 Glittering in golden coats like images,
 As full of spirit as the month of May,
 And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer,
 Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
110 I saw young Harry with his beaver on,
 His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,
 Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury
 And vaulted with such ease into his seat
 As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,
115 To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
 And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
 No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March
 This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come.
 They come like sacrifices in their trim,
120 And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war
 All hot and bleeding will we offer them.
 The mailèd Mars shall on his altar sit
 Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
 To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh
125 And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
 Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
 Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.
 Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
 Meet and ne’er part till one drop down a corse.
130 O, that Glendower were come!
VERNON  There is more news.
 I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,
 He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
 That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
135 Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
 What may the King’s whole battle reach unto?

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 2

 To thirty thousand.
HOTSPUR  Forty let it be.
 My father and Glendower being both away,
140 The powers of us may serve so great a day.
 Come, let us take a muster speedily.
 Doomsday is near. Die all, die merrily.
 Talk not of dying. I am out of fear
 Of death or death’s hand for this one half year.
They exit.

Scene 2
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.

FALSTAFF Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry. Fill
 me a bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march
 through. We’ll to Sutton Coldfield tonight.
BARDOLPH Will you give me money, captain?
FALSTAFF 5Lay out, lay out.
BARDOLPH This bottle makes an angel.
FALSTAFF An if it do, take it for thy labor. An if it make
 twenty, take them all. I’ll answer the coinage. Bid
 my lieutenant Peto meet me at town’s end.
BARDOLPH 10I will, captain. Farewell. He exits.
FALSTAFF If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a
 soused gurnet. I have misused the King’s press
 damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred
 and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I
15 press me none but good householders, yeomen’s
 sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as
 had been asked twice on the banns—such a commodity
 of warm slaves as had as lief hear the devil
 as a drum, such as fear the report of a caliver worse

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 2

20 than a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me
 none but such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their
 bellies no bigger than pins’ heads, and they have
 bought out their services, and now my whole
 charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants,
25 gentlemen of companies—slaves as ragged as Lazarus
 in the painted cloth, where the glutton’s dogs
 licked his sores; and such as indeed were never
 soldiers, but discarded, unjust servingmen, younger
 sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and
30 ostlers tradefallen, the cankers of a calm world and
 a long peace, ten times more dishonorable-ragged
 than an old feazed ancient; and such have I to fill up
 the rooms of them as have bought out their services,
 that you would think that I had a hundred and fifty
35 tattered prodigals lately come from swine-keeping,
 from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me
 on the way and told me I had unloaded all the
 gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath
 seen such scarecrows. I’ll not march through Coventry
40 with them, that’s flat. Nay, and the villains
 march wide betwixt the legs as if they had gyves on,
 for indeed I had the most of them out of prison.
 There’s not a shirt and a half in all my company,
 and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together
45 and thrown over the shoulders like a herald’s coat
 without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth,
 stolen from my host at Saint Albans or the red-nose
 innkeeper of Daventry. But that’s all one; they’ll find
 linen enough on every hedge.

Enter the Prince and the Lord of Westmoreland.

PRINCE 50How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
FALSTAFF What, Hal, how now, mad wag? What a devil
 dost thou in Warwickshire?—My good Lord of

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 2

 Westmoreland, I cry you mercy. I thought your
 Honor had already been at Shrewsbury.
WESTMORELAND 55Faith, Sir John, ’tis more than time
 that I were there and you too, but my powers are
 there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us
 all. We must away all night.
FALSTAFF Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to
60 steal cream.
PRINCE I think to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath
 already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose
 fellows are these that come after?
FALSTAFF Mine, Hal, mine.
PRINCE 65I did never see such pitiful rascals.
FALSTAFF Tut, tut, good enough to toss; food for powder,
 food for powder. They’ll fill a pit as well as
 better. Tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
WESTMORELAND Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are
70 exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.
FALSTAFF Faith, for their poverty, I know not where
 they had that, and for their bareness, I am sure they
 never learned that of me.
PRINCE No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers
75 in the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy is
 already in the field. He exits.
FALSTAFF What, is the King encamped?
WESTMORELAND He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too
 long. He exits.
 To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a
 Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
He exits.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 3

Scene 3
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.

 We’ll fight with him tonight.
WORCESTER  It may not be.
 You give him then advantage.
VERNON  Not a whit.
5 Why say you so? Looks he not for supply?
VERNON So do we.
HOTSPUR His is certain; ours is doubtful.
 Good cousin, be advised. Stir not tonight.
VERNON , to Hotspur 
 Do not, my lord.
DOUGLAS 10 You do not counsel well.
 You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
 Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life
 (And I dare well maintain it with my life),
 If well-respected honor bid me on,
15 I hold as little counsel with weak fear
 As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives.
 Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle
 Which of us fears.
DOUGLAS Yea, or tonight.
VERNON 20Content.
HOTSPUR Tonight, say I.
 Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
 Being men of such great leading as you are,
 That you foresee not what impediments
25 Drag back our expedition. Certain horse
 Of my cousin Vernon’s are not yet come up.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Your uncle Worcester’s horse came but today,
 And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
 Their courage with hard labor tame and dull,
30 That not a horse is half the half of himself.
 So are the horses of the enemy
 In general journey-bated and brought low.
 The better part of ours are full of rest.
 The number of the King exceedeth ours.
35 For God’s sake, cousin, stay till all come in.
The trumpet sounds a parley.

Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

 I come with gracious offers from the King,
 If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
 Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt, and would to God
 You were of our determination.
40 Some of us love you well, and even those some
 Envy your great deservings and good name
 Because you are not of our quality
 But stand against us like an enemy.
 And God defend but still I should stand so,
45 So long as out of limit and true rule
 You stand against anointed majesty.
 But to my charge. The King hath sent to know
 The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
 You conjure from the breast of civil peace
50 Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
 Audacious cruelty. If that the King
 Have any way your good deserts forgot,
 Which he confesseth to be manifold,
 He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 3

55 You shall have your desires with interest
 And pardon absolute for yourself and these
 Herein misled by your suggestion.
 The King is kind, and well we know the King
 Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
60 My father and my uncle and myself
 Did give him that same royalty he wears,
 And when he was not six-and-twenty strong,
 Sick in the world’s regard, wretched and low,
 A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
65 My father gave him welcome to the shore;
 And when he heard him swear and vow to God
 He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
 To sue his livery, and beg his peace
 With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,
70 My father, in kind heart and pity moved,
 Swore him assistance and performed it too.
 Now when the lords and barons of the realm
 Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,
 The more and less came in with cap and knee,
75 Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
 Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
 Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths,
 Gave him their heirs as pages, followed him
 Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
80 He presently, as greatness knows itself,
 Steps me a little higher than his vow
 Made to my father while his blood was poor
 Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh,
 And now forsooth takes on him to reform
85 Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
 That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,
 Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
 Over his country’s wrongs, and by this face,
 This seeming brow of justice, did he win
90 The hearts of all that he did angle for,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Proceeded further—cut me off the heads
 Of all the favorites that the absent king
 In deputation left behind him here
 When he was personal in the Irish war.
95 Tut, I came not to hear this.
HOTSPUR  Then to the point.
 In short time after, he deposed the King,
 Soon after that deprived him of his life
 And, in the neck of that, tasked the whole state.
100 To make that worse, suffered his kinsman March
 (Who is, if every owner were well placed,
 Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales,
 There without ransom to lie forfeited,
 Disgraced me in my happy victories,
105 Sought to entrap me by intelligence,
 Rated mine uncle from the council board,
 In rage dismissed my father from the court,
 Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,
 And in conclusion drove us to seek out
110 This head of safety, and withal to pry
 Into his title, the which we find
 Too indirect for long continuance.
 Shall I return this answer to the King?
 Not so, Sir Walter. We’ll withdraw awhile.
115 Go to the King, and let there be impawned
 Some surety for a safe return again,
 And in the morning early shall mine uncle
 Bring him our purposes. And so farewell.
 I would you would accept of grace and love.
120 And maybe so we shall.
BLUNT  Pray God you do.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 4

Scene 4
Enter Archbishop of York and Sir Michael.

ARCHBISHOP , handing papers 
 Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealèd brief
 With wingèd haste to the Lord Marshal,
 This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest
 To whom they are directed. If you knew
5 How much they do import, you would make haste.
 My good lord, I guess their tenor.
ARCHBISHOP Like enough you do.
 Tomorrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
 Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
10 Must bide the touch. For, sir, at Shrewsbury,
 As I am truly given to understand,
 The King with mighty and quick-raisèd power
 Meets with Lord Harry. And I fear, Sir Michael,
 What with the sickness of Northumberland,
15 Whose power was in the first proportion,
 And what with Owen Glendower’s absence thence,
 Who with them was a rated sinew too
 And comes not in, o’erruled by prophecies,
 I fear the power of Percy is too weak
20 To wage an instant trial with the King.
 Why, my good lord, you need not fear.
 There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.
ARCHBISHOP No, Mortimer is not there.
 But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
25 And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head
 Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.
 And so there is. But yet the King hath drawn
 The special head of all the land together:

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 4. SC. 4

 The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
30 The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt,
 And many more corrivals and dear men
 Of estimation and command in arms.
 Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.
 I hope no less, yet needful ’tis to fear;
35 And to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed.
 For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the King
 Dismiss his power he means to visit us,
 For he hath heard of our confederacy,
 And ’tis but wisdom to make strong against him.
40 Therefore make haste. I must go write again
 To other friends. And so farewell, Sir Michael.
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaff.

 How bloodily the sun begins to peer
 Above yon bulky hill. The day looks pale
 At his distemp’rature.
PRINCE  The southern wind
5 Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
 And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
 Foretells a tempest and a blust’ring day.
 Then with the losers let it sympathize,
 For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
The trumpet sounds.

Enter Worcester and Vernon.

10 How now, my Lord of Worcester? ’Tis not well
 That you and I should meet upon such terms
 As now we meet. You have deceived our trust
 And made us doff our easy robes of peace
 To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.
15 This is not well, my lord; this is not well.
 What say you to it? Will you again unknit
 This churlish knot of all-abhorrèd war

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 1

 And move in that obedient orb again
 Where you did give a fair and natural light,
20 And be no more an exhaled meteor,
 A prodigy of fear, and a portent
 Of broachèd mischief to the unborn times?
WORCESTER Hear me, my liege:
 For mine own part I could be well content
25 To entertain the lag end of my life
 With quiet hours. For I protest
 I have not sought the day of this dislike.
 You have not sought it. How comes it then?
FALSTAFF Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
PRINCE 30Peace, chewet, peace.
 It pleased your Majesty to turn your looks
 Of favor from myself and all our house;
 And yet I must remember you, my lord,
 We were the first and dearest of your friends.
35 For you my staff of office did I break
 In Richard’s time, and posted day and night
 To meet you on the way and kiss your hand
 When yet you were in place and in account
 Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
40 It was myself, my brother, and his son
 That brought you home and boldly did outdare
 The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
 And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
 That you did nothing purpose ’gainst the state,
45 Nor claim no further than your new-fall’n right,
 The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.
 To this we swore our aid. But in short space
 It rained down fortune show’ring on your head,
 And such a flood of greatness fell on you—
50 What with our help, what with the absent king,
 What with the injuries of a wanton time,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 1

 The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
 And the contrarious winds that held the King
 So long in his unlucky Irish wars
55 That all in England did repute him dead—
 And from this swarm of fair advantages
 You took occasion to be quickly wooed
 To gripe the general sway into your hand,
 Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster;
60 And being fed by us, you used us so
 As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo’s bird,
 Useth the sparrow—did oppress our nest,
 Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk
 That even our love durst not come near your sight
65 For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
 We were enforced for safety sake to fly
 Out of your sight and raise this present head,
 Whereby we stand opposèd by such means
 As you yourself have forged against yourself
70 By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
 And violation of all faith and troth
 Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.
 These things indeed you have articulate,
 Proclaimed at market crosses, read in churches,
75 To face the garment of rebellion
 With some fine color that may please the eye
 Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
 Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
 Of hurlyburly innovation.
80 And never yet did insurrection want
 Such water colors to impaint his cause,
 Nor moody beggars starving for a time
 Of pellmell havoc and confusion.
 In both your armies there is many a soul
85 Shall pay full dearly for this encounter

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 1

 If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
 The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
 In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,
 This present enterprise set off his head,
90 I do not think a braver gentleman,
 More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,
 More daring or more bold, is now alive
 To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
 For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
95 I have a truant been to chivalry,
 And so I hear he doth account me too.
 Yet this before my father’s majesty:
 I am content that he shall take the odds
 Of his great name and estimation,
100 And will, to save the blood on either side,
 Try fortune with him in a single fight.
 And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
 Albeit considerations infinite
 Do make against it.—No, good Worcester, no.
105 We love our people well, even those we love
 That are misled upon your cousin’s part.
 And, will they take the offer of our grace,
 Both he and they and you, yea, every man
 Shall be my friend again, and I’ll be his.
110 So tell your cousin, and bring me word
 What he will do. But if he will not yield,
 Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,
 And they shall do their office. So begone.
 We will not now be troubled with reply.
115 We offer fair. Take it advisedly.
Worcester exits with Vernon.
 It will not be accepted, on my life.
 The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
 Are confident against the world in arms.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 2

 Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge,
120 For on their answer will we set on them,
 And God befriend us as our cause is just.
They exit. Prince and Falstaff remain.
FALSTAFF Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and
 bestride me, so; ’tis a point of friendship.
PRINCE Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.
125 Say thy prayers, and farewell.
FALSTAFF I would ’twere bedtime, Hal, and all well.
PRINCE Why, thou owest God a death. He exits.
FALSTAFF ’Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay Him
 before His day. What need I be so forward with
130 Him that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter.
 Honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor prick me
 off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a
 leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a
 wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then?
135 No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word
 “honor”? What is that “honor”? Air. A trim reckoning.
 Who hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth
 he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ’Tis insensible,
 then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the
140 living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore,
 I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And
 so ends my catechism.
He exits.

Scene 2
Enter Worcester and Sir Richard Vernon.

 O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
 The liberal and kind offer of the King.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 2

 ’Twere best he did.
WORCESTER  Then are we all undone.
5 It is not possible, it cannot be
 The King should keep his word in loving us.
 He will suspect us still and find a time
 To punish this offense in other faults.
 Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of
10 eyes,
 For treason is but trusted like the fox,
 Who, never so tame, so cherished and locked up,
 Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
 Look how we can, or sad or merrily,
15 Interpretation will misquote our looks,
 And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
 The better cherished still the nearer death.
 My nephew’s trespass may be well forgot;
 It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,
20 And an adopted name of privilege—
 A harebrained Hotspur governed by a spleen.
 All his offenses live upon my head
 And on his father’s. We did train him on,
 And his corruption being ta’en from us,
25 We as the spring of all shall pay for all.
 Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know
 In any case the offer of the King.
 Deliver what you will; I’ll say ’tis so.

Enter Hotspur, Douglas, and their army.

 Here comes your cousin.
HOTSPUR30, to Douglas My uncle is returned.
 Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.—
 Uncle, what news?
 The King will bid you battle presently.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 2

DOUGLAS , to Hotspur 
 Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.
35 Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
 Marry, and shall, and very willingly. Douglas exits.
 There is no seeming mercy in the King.
 Did you beg any? God forbid!
 I told him gently of our grievances,
40 Of his oath-breaking, which he mended thus
 By now forswearing that he is forsworn.
 He calls us “rebels,” “traitors,” and will scourge
 With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

Enter Douglas.

 Arm, gentlemen, to arms. For I have thrown
45 A brave defiance in King Henry’s teeth,
 And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it,
 Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
 The Prince of Wales stepped forth before the King,
 And, nephew, challenged you to single fight.
50 O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
 And that no man might draw short breath today
 But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
 How showed his tasking? Seemed it in contempt?
 No, by my soul. I never in my life
55 Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,
 Unless a brother should a brother dare
 To gentle exercise and proof of arms.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 2

 He gave you all the duties of a man,
 Trimmed up your praises with a princely tongue,
60 Spoke your deservings like a chronicle,
 Making you ever better than his praise
 By still dispraising praise valued with you,
 And, which became him like a prince indeed,
 He made a blushing cital of himself,
65 And chid his truant youth with such a grace
 As if he mastered there a double spirit
 Of teaching and of learning instantly.
 There did he pause, but let me tell the world:
 If he outlive the envy of this day,
70 England did never owe so sweet a hope
 So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
 Cousin, I think thou art enamorèd
 On his follies. Never did I hear
 Of any prince so wild a liberty.
75 But be he as he will, yet once ere night
 I will embrace him with a soldier’s arm
 That he shall shrink under my courtesy.—
 Arm, arm with speed, and, fellows, soldiers,
80 Better consider what you have to do
 Than I that have not well the gift of tongue
 Can lift your blood up with persuasion.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER My lord, here are letters for you.
HOTSPUR I cannot read them now.—
85 O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
 To spend that shortness basely were too long
 If life did ride upon a dial’s point,
 Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
 An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
90 If die, brave death, when princes die with us.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 3

 Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair
 When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter another Messenger.

 My lord, prepare. The King comes on apace.
 I thank him that he cuts me from my tale,
95 For I profess not talking. Only this:
 Let each man do his best. And here draw I a sword,
 Whose temper I intend to stain
 With the best blood that I can meet withal
 In the adventure of this perilous day.
100 Now, Esperance! Percy! And set on.
 Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
 And by that music let us all embrace,
 For, heaven to Earth, some of us never shall
 A second time do such a courtesy.
Here they embrace. The trumpets sound.
They exit.

Scene 3
The King enters with his power, crosses the stage and
 Alarum to the battle. Then enter Douglas, and Sir
Walter Blunt, disguised as the King.

BLUNT , as King 
 What is thy name that in the battle thus
 Thou crossest me? What honor dost thou seek
 Upon my head?
DOUGLAS  Know then my name is Douglas,
5 And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
 Because some tell me that thou art a king.
BLUNT, as King They tell thee true.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 3

 The Lord of Stafford dear today hath bought
 Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,
10 This sword hath ended him. So shall it thee,
 Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
BLUNT , as King 
 I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot,
 And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
 Lord Stafford’s death.
They fight. Douglas kills Blunt.

Then enter Hotspur.

15 O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
 I never had triumphed upon a Scot.
 All’s done, all’s won; here breathless lies the King.
20 This, Douglas? No, I know this face full well.
 A gallant knight he was; his name was Blunt,
 Semblably furnished like the King himself.
DOUGLAS , addressing Blunt’s corpse 
 A fool go with thy soul whither it goes!
 A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear.
25 Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
 The King hath many marching in his coats.
 Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats.
 I’ll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
 Until I meet the King.
HOTSPUR 30 Up and away!
 Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 3

Alarm. Enter Falstaff alone.

FALSTAFF Though I could ’scape shot-free at London,
 I fear the shot here. Here’s no scoring but upon
 the pate.—Soft, who are you? Sir Walter Blunt.
35 There’s honor for you. Here’s no vanity. I am as hot
 as molten lead, and as heavy too. God keep lead out
 of me; I need no more weight than mine own
 bowels. I have led my ragamuffins where they are
 peppered. There’s not three of my hundred and fifty
40 left alive, and they are for the town’s end, to beg
 during life. But who comes here?

Enter the Prince.

 What, stand’st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword.
 Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
 Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
45 Whose deaths are yet unrevenged. I prithee
 Lend me thy sword.
FALSTAFF O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe
 awhile. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms
 as I have done this day. I have paid Percy; I have
50 made him sure.
 He is indeed, and living to kill thee.
 I prithee, lend me thy sword.
FALSTAFF Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou
 gett’st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou
55 wilt.
 Give it me. What, is it in the case?
FALSTAFF Ay, Hal, ’tis hot, ’tis hot. There’s that will
 sack a city.
The Prince draws it out, and finds it
to be a bottle of sack.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

 What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
He throws the bottle at him and exits.
FALSTAFF 60Well, if Percy be alive, I’ll pierce him. If he do
 come in my way, so; if he do not, if I come in his
 willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not
 such grinning honor as Sir Walter hath. Give me
 life, which, if I can save, so: if not, honor comes
65 unlooked for, and there’s an end.
He exits. Blunt’s body is carried off.

Scene 4
Alarm, excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John
of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmoreland.

 I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself. Thou bleedest
 too much.
 Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
 Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
5 I beseech your Majesty, make up,
 Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
 I will do so.—My Lord of Westmoreland,
 Lead him to his tent.
 Come, my lord, I’ll lead you to your tent.
10 Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help,
 And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
 The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
 Where stained nobility lies trodden on,
 And rebels’ arms triumph in massacres.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

15 We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmoreland,
 Our duty this way lies. For God’s sake, come.
Lancaster and Westmoreland exit.
 By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster.
 I did not think thee lord of such a spirit.
 Before, I loved thee as a brother, John,
20 But now I do respect thee as my soul.
 I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
 With lustier maintenance than I did look for
 Of such an ungrown warrior.
 O, this boy lends mettle to us all. He exits.

Enter Douglas.

25 Another king! They grow like Hydra’s heads.—
 I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
 That wear those colors on them. What art thou
 That counterfeit’st the person of a king?
 The King himself, who, Douglas, grieves at heart,
30 So many of his shadows thou hast met
 And not the very king. I have two boys
 Seek Percy and thyself about the field,
 But, seeing thou fall’st on me so luckily,
 I will assay thee. And defend thyself.
35 I fear thou art another counterfeit,
 And yet, in faith, thou bearest thee like a king.
 But mine I am sure thou art, whoe’er thou be,
 And thus I win thee.

They fight. The King being in danger,
enter Prince of Wales.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

 Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
40 Never to hold it up again. The spirits
 Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt are in my arms.
 It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
 Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
They fight. Douglas flieth.
  To King. Cheerly, my lord. How fares your Grace?
45 Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent,
 And so hath Clifton. I’ll to Clifton straight.
KING Stay and breathe awhile.
 Thou hast redeemed thy lost opinion
 And showed thou mak’st some tender of my life
50 In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
 O God, they did me too much injury
 That ever said I hearkened for your death.
 If it were so, I might have let alone
 The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
55 Which would have been as speedy in your end
 As all the poisonous potions in the world,
 And saved the treacherous labor of your son.
 Make up to Clifton. I’ll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
King exits.

Enter Hotspur.

 If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
60 Thou speak’st as if I would deny my name.
 My name is Harry Percy.
PRINCE  Why then I see
 A very valiant rebel of the name.
 I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

65 To share with me in glory any more.
 Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere,
 Nor can one England brook a double reign
 Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
 Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
70 To end the one of us, and would to God
 Thy name in arms were now as great as mine.
 I’ll make it greater ere I part from thee,
 And all the budding honors on thy crest
 I’ll crop to make a garland for my head.
75 I can no longer brook thy vanities. They fight.

Enter Falstaff.

FALSTAFF Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find
 no boys’ play here, I can tell you.

Enter Douglas. He fighteth with Falstaff, who falls
down as if he were dead.
 Douglas exits. The Prince
killeth Percy.

 O Harry, thou hast robbed me of my youth.
 I better brook the loss of brittle life
80 Than those proud titles thou hast won of me.
 They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my
 But thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time’s fool,
 And time, that takes survey of all the world,
85 Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
 But that the earthy and cold hand of death
 Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust,
 And food for— He dies.
 For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart.

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

90 Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
 When that this body did contain a spirit,
 A kingdom for it was too small a bound,
 But now two paces of the vilest earth
 Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead
95 Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
 If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
 I should not make so dear a show of zeal.
 But let my favors hide thy mangled face;
He covers Hotspur’s face.
 And even in thy behalf I’ll thank myself
100 For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
 Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven.
 Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
 But not remembered in thy epitaph.
He spieth Falstaff on the ground.
 What, old acquaintance, could not all this flesh
105 Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell.
 I could have better spared a better man.
 O, I should have a heavy miss of thee
 If I were much in love with vanity.
 Death hath not struck so fat a deer today,
110 Though many dearer in this bloody fray.
 Emboweled will I see thee by and by;
 Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. He exits.
Falstaff riseth up.
FALSTAFF Emboweled? If thou embowel me today, I’ll
 give you leave to powder me and eat me too
115 tomorrow. ’Sblood, ’twas time to counterfeit, or
 that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot
 too. Counterfeit? I lie. I am no counterfeit. To die is
 to be a counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a
 man who hath not the life of a man; but to counterfeit
120 dying when a man thereby liveth is to be no
 counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life
 indeed. The better part of valor is discretion, in the

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 4

 which better part I have saved my life. Zounds, I am
 afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead.
125 How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? By my
 faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.
 Therefore I’ll make him sure, yea, and I’ll swear
 I killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
 Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.
130 Therefore, sirrah,  stabbing him with a new wound
 in your thigh, come you along with me.
He takes up Hotspur on his back.

Enter Prince and John of Lancaster.

 Come, brother John. Full bravely hast thou fleshed
 Thy maiden sword.
LANCASTER  But soft, whom have we here?
135 Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
PRINCE I did; I saw him dead,
 Breathless and bleeding on the ground.—Art thou
 Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
140 I prithee, speak. We will not trust our eyes
 Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seem’st.
FALSTAFF No, that’s certain. I am not a double man.
 But if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a jack. There
 is Percy. If your father will do me any honor, so; if
145 not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be
 either earl or duke, I can assure you.
 Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead.
FALSTAFF Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is
 given to lying. I grant you, I was down and out of
150 breath, and so was he, but we rose both at an instant
 and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I
 may be believed, so; if not, let them that should
 reward valor bear the sin upon their own heads. I’ll

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 5

 take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in
155 the thigh. If the man were alive and would deny
 it, zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my
 This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
 This is the strangest fellow, brother John.—
160 Come bring your luggage nobly on your back.
 For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
 I’ll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
A retreat is sounded.
 The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
 Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field
165 To see what friends are living, who are dead.
They exit.
FALSTAFF I’ll follow, as they say, for reward. He that
 rewards me, God reward him. If I do grow great,
 I’ll grow less, for I’ll purge and leave sack and live
 cleanly as a nobleman should do.
He exits carrying Hotspur’s body.

Scene 5
The trumpets sound. Enter the King, Prince of Wales,
Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland, with
Worcester and Vernon prisoners, and Soldiers.

 Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.—
 Ill-spirited Worcester, did not we send grace,
 Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
 And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary,
5 Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman’s trust?
 Three knights upon our party slain today,
 A noble earl, and many a creature else

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 5

 Had been alive this hour
 If, like a Christian, thou hadst truly borne
10 Betwixt our armies true intelligence.
 What I have done my safety urged me to.
 And I embrace this fortune patiently,
 Since not to be avoided it falls on me.
 Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too.
15 Other offenders we will pause upon.
Worcester and Vernon exit, under guard.
 How goes the field?
 The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
 The fortune of the day quite turned from him,
 The noble Percy slain, and all his men
20 Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest,
 And, falling from a hill, he was so bruised
 That the pursuers took him. At my tent
 The Douglas is, and I beseech your Grace
 I may dispose of him.
KING 25 With all my heart.
 Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you
 This honorable bounty shall belong.
 Go to the Douglas and deliver him
 Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free.
30 His valors shown upon our crests today
 Have taught us how to cherish such high deeds,
 Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
 I thank your Grace for this high courtesy,
 Which I shall give away immediately.
35 Then this remains, that we divide our power.
 You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland,

Henry IV, Part I
ACT 5. SC. 5

 Towards York shall bend you with your dearest
 To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,
40 Who, as we hear, are busily in arms.
 Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales
 To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.
 Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
 Meeting the check of such another day.
45 And since this business so fair is done,
 Let us not leave till all our own be won.
They exit.