List iconHenry IV, Part 2:
Entire Play
List icon

Henry IV, Part 2
Entire Play



Characters in the Play

Entire Play

Henry IV, Part 2, continues the story of Henry IV, Part I. Northumberland learns that his son Hotspur is dead, and…


Following the battle of Shrewsbury (where King Henry and Prince Hal were victorious and Hotspur killed), Rumor spreads the false…

Act 1, scene 1

Northumberland, who had pleaded illness as an excuse for not appearing at the battle of Shrewsbury, learns that his son,…

Act 1, scene 2

Sir John Falstaff is confronted by the Lord Chief Justice. Since Falstaff has come away from Shrewsbury with the reputation…

Act 1, scene 3

At York, the Archbishop discusses with Mowbray, Hastings, and Lord Bardolph whether they can defeat the king’s forces if their…

Act 2, scene 1

Sir John is arrested for the debt he owes Mistress Quickly. He persuades her to drop the charges and to…

Act 2, scene 2

Learning that Falstaff will be dining that night in Eastcheap, Prince Hal and Poins decide to disguise themselves as waiters…

Act 2, scene 3

Northumberland is persuaded by his daughter-in-law, Hotspur’s widow, to abandon the other rebels.

Act 2, scene 4

At Mistress Quickly’s inn in Eastcheap, a fight erupts after Falstaff ’s ensign, Pistol, insults Doll Tearsheet. The disguised Prince Hal…

Act 3, scene 1

An ill and anxious King Henry IV consults with Warwick.

Act 3, scene 2

On his journey through Gloucestershire, Falstaff selects recruits for the army and decides that, on his return, he will fleece…

Act 4, scene 1

The leaders of the rebellion reach Gaultree Forest, where they present their grievances to Westmoreland. After Prince John promises redress…

Act 4, scene 2

Falstaff meets a rebel knight, who surrenders to him. When Prince John reproaches Falstaff for his late arrival, Falstaff turns…

Act 4, scene 3

Just after receiving the good news about the defeat of all the rebel forces, Henry IV falls into a swoon….

Act 5, scene 1

Falstaff observes Shallow and his servants in order to be ready to entertain Prince Hal with amusing stories.

Act 5, scene 2

Prince Hal reassures an anxious Lord Chief Justice.

Act 5, scene 3

On the news of Henry IV’s death, Falstaff and Shallow set off joyfully for London.

Act 5, scene 4

Doll Tearsheet is arrested.

Act 5, scene 5

The newly crowned King Henry V keeps his word to the Lord Chief Justice.


The speaker apologizes for the play and promises another play with Falstaff in it.

Include links to:

Quill icon
Enter Rumor, painted full of tongues.

 Open your ears, for which of you will stop
 The vent of hearing when loud Rumor speaks?
 I, from the orient to the drooping west,
 Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
5 The acts commencèd on this ball of earth.
 Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
 The which in every language I pronounce,
 Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
 I speak of peace while covert enmity
10 Under the smile of safety wounds the world.
 And who but Rumor, who but only I,
 Make fearful musters and prepared defense
 Whiles the big year, swoll’n with some other grief,
 Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
15 And no such matter? Rumor is a pipe
 Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
 And of so easy and so plain a stop
 That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
 The still-discordant wav’ring multitude,
20 Can play upon it. But what need I thus
 My well-known body to anatomize
 Among my household? Why is Rumor here?
 I run before King Harry’s victory,

Henry IV, Part 2

 Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury
25 Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
 Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
 Even with the rebels’ blood. But what mean I
 To speak so true at first? My office is
 To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
30 Under the wrath of noble Hotspur’s sword,
 And that the King before the Douglas’ rage
 Stooped his anointed head as low as death.
 This have I rumored through the peasant towns
 Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
35 And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
 Where Hotspur’s father, old Northumberland,
 Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
 And not a man of them brings other news
 Than they have learnt of me. From Rumor’s
40 tongues
 They bring smooth comforts false, worse than
 true wrongs.
Rumor exits.
Scene 1
Enter the Lord Bardolph at one door.

 Who keeps the gate here, ho?

Enter the Porter.

 Where is the Earl?
 What shall I say you are?
LORD BARDOLPH  Tell thou the Earl
5 That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
 His Lordship is walked forth into the orchard.
 Please it your Honor knock but at the gate
 And he himself will answer.

Enter the Earl Northumberland, his head wrapped in a
kerchief and supporting himself with a crutch.

LORD BARDOLPH  Here comes the Earl.
Porter exits.
10 What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
 Should be the father of some stratagem.
 The times are wild. Contention, like a horse

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
 And bears down all before him.
LORD BARDOLPH 15 Noble earl,
 I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
 Good, an God will!
LORD BARDOLPH  As good as heart can wish.
 The King is almost wounded to the death,
20 And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
 Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
 Killed by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John
 And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field;
 And Harry Monmouth’s brawn, the hulk Sir John,
25 Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,
 So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
 Came not till now to dignify the times
 Since Caesar’s fortunes.
NORTHUMBERLAND  How is this derived?
30 Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
 I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence,
 A gentleman well bred and of good name,
 That freely rendered me these news for true.

Enter Travers.

 Here comes my servant Travers, who I sent
35 On Tuesday last to listen after news.
 My lord, I overrode him on the way,
 And he is furnished with no certainties
 More than he haply may retail from me.
 Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
40 My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turned me back

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 With joyful tidings and, being better horsed,
 Outrode me. After him came spurring hard
 A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
 That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
45 He asked the way to Chester, and of him
 I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
 He told me that rebellion had bad luck
 And that young Harry Percy’s spur was cold.
 With that he gave his able horse the head
50 And, bending forward, struck his armèd heels
 Against the panting sides of his poor jade
 Up to the rowel-head, and starting so
 He seemed in running to devour the way,
 Staying no longer question.
 Said he young Harry Percy’s spur was cold?
 Of Hotspur, Coldspur? That rebellion
 Had met ill luck?
LORD BARDOLPH  My lord, I’ll tell you what:
60 If my young lord your son have not the day,
 Upon mine honor, for a silken point
 I’ll give my barony. Never talk of it.
 Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers
 Give then such instances of loss?
 He was some hilding fellow that had stol’n
 The horse he rode on and, upon my life,
 Spoke at a venture.

Enter Morton.

 Look, here comes more news.
70 Yea, this man’s brow, like to a title leaf,
 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
 Hath left a witnessed usurpation.—
 Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
75 I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord,
 Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
 To fright our party.
NORTHUMBERLAND  How doth my son and brother?
 Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek
80 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
 Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
 So dull, so dead in look, so woebegone,
 Drew Priam’s curtain in the dead of night
 And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
85 But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
 And I my Percy’s death ere thou report’st it.
 This thou wouldst say: “Your son did thus and thus;
 Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas”—
 Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds.
90 But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
 Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
 Ending with “Brother, son, and all are dead.”
 Douglas is living, and your brother yet,
 But for my lord your son—
NORTHUMBERLAND 95 Why, he is dead.
 See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
 He that but fears the thing he would not know
 Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others’ eyes
 That what he feared is chancèd. Yet speak,
100 Morton.
 Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
 And I will take it as a sweet disgrace
 And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
 You are too great to be by me gainsaid,
105 Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 Yet, for all this, say not that Percy’s dead.
 I see a strange confession in thine eye.
 Thou shak’st thy head and hold’st it fear or sin
 To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so.
110 The tongue offends not that reports his death;
 And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
 Not he which says the dead is not alive.
 Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
 Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
115 Sounds ever after as a sullen bell
 Remembered tolling a departing friend.
 I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
MORTON, to Northumberland 
 I am sorry I should force you to believe
 That which I would to God I had not seen,
120 But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
 Rend’ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreathed,
 To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
 The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
 From whence with life he never more sprung up.
125 In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire
 Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,
 Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
 From the best-tempered courage in his troops;
 For from his mettle was his party steeled,
130 Which, once in him abated, all the rest
 Turned on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
 And as the thing that’s heavy in itself
 Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
 So did our men, heavy in Hotspur’s loss,
135 Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
 That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
 Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester
 So soon ta’en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
140 The bloody Douglas, whose well-laboring sword
 Had three times slain th’ appearance of the King,
 Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame
 Of those that turned their backs and in his flight,
 Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
145 Is that the King hath won and hath sent out
 A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
 Under the conduct of young Lancaster
 And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.
 For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
150 In poison there is physic, and these news,
 Having been well, that would have made me sick,
 Being sick, have in some measure made me well.
 And as the wretch whose fever-weakened joints,
 Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
155 Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
 Out of his keeper’s arms, even so my limbs,
 Weakened with grief, being now enraged with
 Are thrice themselves. Hence therefore, thou
160 nice crutch.He throws down his crutch.
 A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
 Must glove this hand. And hence, thou sickly
 coif.He removes his kerchief.
 Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
165 Which princes, fleshed with conquest, aim to hit.
 Now bind my brows with iron, and approach
 The ragged’st hour that time and spite dare bring
 To frown upon th’ enraged Northumberland.
 Let heaven kiss Earth! Now let not Nature’s hand
170 Keep the wild flood confined. Let order die,
 And let this world no longer be a stage

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

 To feed contention in a lingering act;
 But let one spirit of the firstborn Cain
 Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
175 On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
 And darkness be the burier of the dead.
 [This strainèd passion doth you wrong, my lord.]
 Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honor.
 The lives of all your loving complices
180 Lean on your health, the which, if you give o’er
 To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
 You cast th’ event of war, my noble lord,
 And summed the accompt of chance before you
185 “Let us make head.” It was your presurmise
 That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
 You knew he walked o’er perils on an edge,
 More likely to fall in than to get o’er.
 You were advised his flesh was capable
190 Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
 Would lift him where most trade of danger
 Yet did you say “Go forth,” and none of this,
 Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
195 The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall’n,
 Or what did this bold enterprise bring forth,
 More than that being which was like to be?
 We all that are engagèd to this loss
 Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
200 That if we wrought out life, ’twas ten to one;
 And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed
 Choked the respect of likely peril feared;
 And since we are o’erset, venture again.
 Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 1

205 ’Tis more than time.—And, my most noble lord,
 I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth:
 The gentle Archbishop of York is up
 With well-appointed powers. He is a man
 Who with a double surety binds his followers.
210 My lord your son had only but the corpse,
 But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
 For that same word “rebellion” did divide
 The action of their bodies from their souls,
 And they did fight with queasiness, constrained,
215 As men drink potions, that their weapons only
 Seemed on our side. But, for their spirits and
 This word “rebellion,” it had froze them up
 As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop
220 Turns insurrection to religion.
 Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts,
 He’s followed both with body and with mind,
 And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
 Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret
225 stones;
 Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
 Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
 Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
 And more and less do flock to follow him.
230 I knew of this before, but, to speak truth,
 This present grief had wiped it from my mind.
 Go in with me and counsel every man
 The aptest way for safety and revenge.
 Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed.
235 Never so few, and never yet more need.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

Scene 2
Enter Sir John Falstaff, with his Page bearing his sword
and buckler.

FALSTAFF Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my
PAGE He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy
 water, but, for the party that owed it, he might have
5 more diseases than he knew for.
FALSTAFF Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me.
 The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is
 not able to invent anything that intends to laughter
 more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not
10 only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in
 other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow
 that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the
 Prince put thee into my service for any other reason
 than to set me off, why then I have no judgment.
15 Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be
 worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never
 manned with an agate till now, but I will inset you
 neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and
 send you back again to your master for a jewel. The
20 juvenal, the Prince your master, whose chin is not
 yet fledge—I will sooner have a beard grow in the
 palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek,
 and yet he will not stick to say his face is a face
 royal. God may finish it when He will. ’Tis not a hair
25 amiss yet. He may keep it still at a face royal, for a
 barber shall never earn sixpence out of it, and yet
 he’ll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his
 father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace,
 but he’s almost out of mine, I can assure him. What
30 said Master Dommelton about the satin for my
 short cloak and my slops?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

PAGE He said, sir, you should procure him better
 assurance than Bardolph. He would not take his
 band and yours. He liked not the security.
FALSTAFF 35Let him be damned like the glutton! Pray
 God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel, a
 rascally yea-forsooth knave, to bear a gentleman in
 hand and then stand upon security! The whoreson
 smoothy-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes
40 and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is
 through with them in honest taking up, then they
 must stand upon security. I had as lief they would
 put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with
 “security.” I looked he should have sent me two-and-twenty
45 yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and
 he sends me “security.” Well, he may sleep in
 security, for he hath the horn of abundance, and the
 lightness of his wife shines through it, and yet
 cannot he see though he have his own lantern to
50 light him. Where’s Bardolph?
PAGE He’s gone in Smithfield to buy your Worship a
FALSTAFF I bought him in Paul’s, and he’ll buy me a
 horse in Smithfield. An I could get me but a wife in
55 the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.

Enter Lord Chief Justice and Servant.

PAGE, to Falstaff Sir, here comes the nobleman that
 committed the Prince for striking him about
FALSTAFF Wait close. I will not see him.
They begin to exit.
CHIEF JUSTICE, to Servant 60What’s he that goes there?
SERVANT Falstaff, an ’t please your Lordship.
CHIEF JUSTICE He that was in question for the robbery?
SERVANT He, my lord; but he hath since done good

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

 service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going
65 with some charge to the Lord John of Lancaster.
CHIEF JUSTICE What, to York? Call him back again.
SERVANT Sir John Falstaff!
FALSTAFF Boy, tell him I am deaf.
PAGE You must speak louder. My master is deaf.
CHIEF JUSTICE 70I am sure he is, to the hearing of
 anything good.—Go pluck him by the elbow. I must
 speak with him.
SERVANT, plucking Falstaff’s sleeve Sir John!
FALSTAFF What, a young knave and begging? Is there
75 not wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the
 King lack subjects? Do not the rebels need soldiers?
 Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is
 worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side,
 were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell
80 how to make it.
SERVANT You mistake me, sir.
FALSTAFF Why sir, did I say you were an honest man?
 Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I
 had lied in my throat if I had said so.
SERVANT 85I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and
 your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you,
 you lie in your throat if you say I am any other than
 an honest man.
FALSTAFF I give thee leave to tell me so? I lay aside that
90 which grows to me? If thou gett’st any leave of me,
 hang me; if thou tak’st leave, thou wert better be
 hanged. You hunt counter. Hence! Avaunt!
SERVANT Sir, my lord would speak with you.
CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.
FALSTAFF 95My good lord. God give your Lordship good
 time of the day. I am glad to see your Lordship
 abroad. I heard say your Lordship was sick. I hope
 your Lordship goes abroad by advice. Your Lordship,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

 though not clean past your youth, have yet
100 some smack of an ague in you, some relish of the
 saltness of time in you, and I most humbly beseech
 your Lordship to have a reverend care of your
CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, I sent for you before your
105 expedition to Shrewsbury.
FALSTAFF An ’t please your Lordship, I hear his Majesty
 is returned with some discomfort from Wales.
CHIEF JUSTICE I talk not of his Majesty. You would not
 come when I sent for you.
FALSTAFF 110And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fallen
 into this same whoreson apoplexy.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God mend him. I pray you let me
 speak with you.
FALSTAFF This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of
115 lethargy, an ’t please your Lordship, a kind of
 sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.
CHIEF JUSTICE What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.
FALSTAFF It hath it original from much grief, from
 study, and perturbation of the brain. I have read the
120 cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kind of deafness.
CHIEF JUSTICE I think you are fallen into the disease,
 for you hear not what I say to you.
FALSTAFF Very well, my lord, very well. Rather, an ’t
 please you, it is the disease of not listening, the
125 malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal.
CHIEF JUSTICE To punish you by the heels would amend
 the attention of your ears, and I care not if I do
 become your physician.
FALSTAFF I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so
130 patient. Your Lordship may minister the potion of
 imprisonment to me in respect of poverty, but how
 I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions,
 the wise may make some dram of a scruple,
 or indeed a scruple itself.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

CHIEF JUSTICE 135I sent for you, when there were matters
 against you for your life, to come speak with me.
FALSTAFF As I was then advised by my learned counsel
 in the laws of this land-service, I did not come.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in
140 great infamy.
FALSTAFF He that buckles himself in my belt cannot
 live in less.
CHIEF JUSTICE Your means are very slender, and your
 waste is great.
FALSTAFF 145I would it were otherwise. I would my means
 were greater and my waist slender.
CHIEF JUSTICE You have misled the youthful prince.
FALSTAFF The young prince hath misled me. I am the
 fellow with the great belly, and he my dog.
CHIEF JUSTICE 150Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed
 wound. Your day’s service at Shrewsbury hath a
 little gilded over your night’s exploit on Gad’s Hill.
 You may thank th’ unquiet time for your quiet
 o’erposting that action.
FALSTAFF 155My lord.
CHIEF JUSTICE But since all is well, keep it so. Wake not
 a sleeping wolf.
FALSTAFF To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox.
CHIEF JUSTICE What, you are as a candle, the better
160 part burnt out.
FALSTAFF A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow. If I did
 say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
CHIEF JUSTICE There is not a white hair in your face but
 should have his effect of gravity.
FALSTAFF 165His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.
CHIEF JUSTICE You follow the young prince up and
 down like his ill angel.
FALSTAFF Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light, but I
 hope he that looks upon me will take me without
170 weighing. And yet in some respects I grant I cannot

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

 go. I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these
 costermongers’ times that true valor is turned bearherd;
 pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his
 quick wit wasted in giving reckonings. All the other
175 gifts appurtenant to man, as the malice of this age
 shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that
 are old consider not the capacities of us that are
 young. You do measure the heat of our livers with
 the bitterness of your galls, and we that are in the
180 vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too.
CHIEF JUSTICE Do you set down your name in the scroll
 of youth, that are written down old with all the
 characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry
 hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing
185 leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken,
 your wind short, your chin double, your wit single,
 and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
 And will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir
FALSTAFF 190My lord, I was born [about three of the clock
 in the afternoon,] with a white head and something
 a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with
 halloing and singing of anthems. To approve my
 youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am only old
195 in judgment and understanding. And he that will
 caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend
 me the money, and have at him. For the box of the
 ear that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a rude
 prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have
200 checked him for it, and the young lion repents.
 Aside. Marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in
 new silk and old sack.
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God send the Prince a better
FALSTAFF 205God send the companion a better prince. I
 cannot rid my hands of him.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 2

CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the King hath severed you and
 Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord John
 of Lancaster against the Archbishop and the Earl of
210 Northumberland.
FALSTAFF Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But
 look you pray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at
 home, that our armies join not in a hot day, for, by
 the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I
215 mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If it be a hot day
 and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would I
 might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous
 action can peep out his head but I am thrust
 upon it. Well, I cannot last ever. [But it was always
220 yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a
 good thing, to make it too common. If you will
 needs say I am an old man, you should give me rest.
 I would to God my name were not so terrible to the
 enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to death
225 with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with
 perpetual motion.]
CHIEF JUSTICE Well, be honest, be honest, and God
 bless your expedition.
FALSTAFF Will your Lordship lend me a thousand
230 pound to furnish me forth?
CHIEF JUSTICE Not a penny, not a penny. You are too
 impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend
 me to my cousin Westmoreland.
Lord Chief Justice and his Servant exit.
FALSTAFF If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A
235 man can no more separate age and covetousness
 than he can part young limbs and lechery; but the
 gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other,
 and so both the degrees prevent my curses.—Boy!
FALSTAFF 240What money is in my purse?
PAGE Seven groats and two pence.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 3

FALSTAFF I can get no remedy against this consumption
 of the purse. Borrowing only lingers and lingers
 it out, but the disease is incurable. Giving
 papers to the Page. 
245Go bear this letter to my Lord
 of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earl
 of Westmoreland, and this to old Mistress Ursula,
 whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived
 the first white hair of my chin. About it. You
250 know where to find me. Page exits. A pox of this
 gout! Or a gout of this pox, for the one or the other
 plays the rogue with my great toe. ’Tis no matter if I
 do halt. I have the wars for my color, and my
 pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit
255 will make use of anything. I will turn diseases to
He exits.

Scene 3
Enter th’ Archbishop of York, Thomas Mowbray (Earl
Marshal), the Lord Hastings, and Lord Bardolph.

 Thus have you heard our cause and known our
 And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
 Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes.
5 And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?
 I well allow the occasion of our arms,
 But gladly would be better satisfied
 How in our means we should advance ourselves
 To look with forehead bold and big enough
10 Upon the power and puissance of the King.
 Our present musters grow upon the file

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 3

 To five-and-twenty thousand men of choice,
 And our supplies live largely in the hope
 Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
15 With an incensèd fire of injuries.
 The question, then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:
 Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand
 May hold up head without Northumberland.
 With him we may.
LORD BARDOLPH 20 Yea, marry, there’s the point.
 But if without him we be thought too feeble,
 My judgment is we should not step too far
 Till we had his assistance by the hand.
 For in a theme so bloody-faced as this,
25 Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
 Of aids incertain should not be admitted.
 ’Tis very true, Lord Bardolph, for indeed
 It was young Hotspur’s cause at Shrewsbury.
 It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope,
30 Eating the air and promise of supply,
 Flatt’ring himself in project of a power
 Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts,
 And so, with great imagination
 Proper to madmen, led his powers to death
35 And, winking, leapt into destruction.
 But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
 To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
 Yes, if this present quality of war —
 Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot—
40 Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
 We see th’ appearing buds, which to prove fruit

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Hope gives not so much warrant as despair
 That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
 We first survey the plot, then draw the model,
45 And when we see the figure of the house,
 Then must we rate the cost of the erection,
 Which if we find outweighs ability,
 What do we then but draw anew the model
 In fewer offices, or at least desist
50 To build at all? Much more in this great work,
 Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
 And set another up, should we survey
 The plot of situation and the model,
 Consent upon a sure foundation,
55 Question surveyors, know our own estate,
 How able such a work to undergo,
 To weigh against his opposite. Or else
 We fortify in paper and in figures,
 Using the names of men instead of men,
60 Like one that draws the model of an house
 Beyond his power to build it, who, half through,
 Gives o’er and leaves his part-created cost
 A naked subject to the weeping clouds
 And waste for churlish winter’s tyranny.
65 Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth,
 Should be stillborn and that we now possessed
 The utmost man of expectation,
 I think we are a body strong enough,
 Even as we are, to equal with the King.
70 What, is the King but five-and-twenty thousand?
 To us no more, nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph,
 For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
 Are in three heads: one power against the French,
 And one against Glendower; perforce a third

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 3

75 Must take up us. So is the unfirm king
 In three divided, and his coffers sound
 With hollow poverty and emptiness.
 That he should draw his several strengths together
 And come against us in full puissance
80 Need not to be dreaded.
HASTINGS  If he should do so,
 He leaves his back unarmed, the French and Welsh
 Baying him at the heels. Never fear that.
 Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
85 The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
 Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;
 But who is substituted against the French
 I have no certain notice.
ARCHBISHOP  Let us on,
90 And publish the occasion of our arms.
 The commonwealth is sick of their own choice.
 Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.
 An habitation giddy and unsure
 Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
95 O thou fond many, with what loud applause
 Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke
 Before he was what thou wouldst have him be.
 And being now trimmed in thine own desires,
 Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him
100 That thou provok’st thyself to cast him up.
 So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
 Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard,
 And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up
 And howl’st to find it. What trust is in these
105 times?
 They that, when Richard lived, would have him die
 Are now become enamored on his grave.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 1. SC. 3

 Thou, that threw’st dust upon his goodly head
 When through proud London he came sighing on
110 After th’ admirèd heels of Bolingbroke,
 Criest now “O earth, yield us that king again,
 And take thou this!” O thoughts of men accursed!
 Past and to come seems best; things present,
115 Shall we go draw our numbers and set on?
 We are time’s subjects, and time bids begone.
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter Hostess Quickly of the tavern with two Officers,
Fang and Snare, who lags behind.

HOSTESS Master Fang, have you entered the action?
FANG It is entered.
HOSTESS Where’s your yeoman? Is ’t a lusty yeoman?
 Will he stand to ’t?
FANG, calling 5Sirrah! Where’s Snare?
HOSTESS O Lord, ay, good Master Snare.
SNARE, catching up to them Here, here.
FANG Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
HOSTESS Yea, good Master Snare, I have entered him
10 and all.
SNARE It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he
 will stab.
HOSTESS Alas the day, take heed of him. He stabbed me
 in mine own house, and that most beastly, in good
15 faith. He cares not what mischief he does. If his
 weapon be out, he will foin like any devil. He will
 spare neither man, woman, nor child.
FANG If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
HOSTESS No, nor I neither. I’ll be at your elbow.
FANG 20An I but fist him once, an he come but within my
HOSTESS I am undone by his going. I warrant you, he’s

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 1

 an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master
 Fang, hold him sure. Good Master Snare, let him
25 not ’scape. He comes continuantly to Pie Corner,
 saving your manhoods, to buy a saddle, and he is
 indited to dinner to the Lubber’s Head in Lumbert
 Street, to Master Smooth’s the silkman. I pray you,
 since my exion is entered, and my case so openly
30 known to the world, let him be brought in to his
 answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor
 lone woman to bear, and I have borne, and borne,
 and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed
 off, and fubbed off from this day to that day, that it is
35 a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in
 such dealing, unless a woman should be made an
 ass and a beast to bear every knave’s wrong. Yonder
 he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave,
 Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices,
40 Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me,
 do me your offices.

Enter Sir John Falstaff and Bardolph, and the Page.

FALSTAFF How now, whose mare’s dead? What’s the
FANG Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress
45 Quickly.
FALSTAFF Away, varlets!—Draw, Bardolph. Cut me off
 the villain’s head. Throw the quean in the
 channel.They draw.
HOSTESS Throw me in the channel? I’ll throw thee in
50 the channel. Wilt thou, wilt thou, thou bastardly
 rogue?—Murder, murder!—Ah, thou honeysuckle
 villain, wilt thou kill God’s officers and the King’s?
 Ah, thou honeyseed rogue, thou art a honeyseed, a
 man-queller, and a woman-queller.
FALSTAFF 55Keep them off, Bardolph.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 1

OFFICERS A rescue, a rescue!
HOSTESS Good people, bring a rescue or two.—Thou
 wot, wot thou? Thou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou
 rogue. Do, thou hempseed.
PAGE 60Away, you scullion, you rampallian, you fustilarian!
 I’ll tickle your catastrophe.

Enter Lord Chief Justice and his Men.

 What is the matter? Keep the peace here, ho!
HOSTESS Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you
 stand to me.
65 How now, Sir John? What, are you brawling here?
 Doth this become your place, your time, and
 You should have been well on your way to York.—
 Stand from him, fellow. Wherefore hang’st thou
70 upon him?
HOSTESS O my most worshipful lord, an ’t please your
 Grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is
 arrested at my suit.
CHIEF JUSTICE For what sum?
HOSTESS 75It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all I
 have. He hath eaten me out of house and home. He
 hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his.
 To Falstaff. But I will have some of it out again, or I
 will ride thee o’ nights like the mare.
FALSTAFF 80I think I am as like to ride the mare if I have
 any vantage of ground to get up.
CHIEF JUSTICE How comes this, Sir John? Fie, what
 man of good temper would endure this tempest of
 exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a
85 poor widow to so rough a course to come by her

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 1

FALSTAFF What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
HOSTESS Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself
 and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a
90 parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin chamber at
 the round table by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday
 in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head
 for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor,
 thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy
95 wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife.
 Canst thou deny it? Did not Goodwife Keech, the
 butcher’s wife, come in then and call me Gossip
 Quickly, coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar,
 telling us she had a good dish of prawns, whereby
100 thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told thee
 they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not,
 when she was gone downstairs, desire me to be no
 more so familiarity with such poor people, saying
 that ere long they should call me madam? And didst
105 thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee thirty
 shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it if
 thou canst.
FALSTAFF My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says
 up and down the town that her eldest son is like
110 you. She hath been in good case, and the truth is,
 poverty hath distracted her. But, for these foolish
 officers, I beseech you I may have redress against
CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted
115 with your manner of wrenching the true cause the
 false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng
 of words that come with such more than impudent
 sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level
 consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practiced
120 upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman,
 [and made her serve your uses both in purse and in

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 1

HOSTESS Yea, in truth, my lord.
CHIEF JUSTICE Pray thee, peace.—Pay her the debt you
125 owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done with
 her. The one you may do with sterling money, and
 the other with current repentance.
FALSTAFF My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without
 reply. You call honorable boldness “impudent
130 sauciness.” If a man will make curtsy and say
 nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble
 duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say to
 you, I do desire deliverance from these officers,
 being upon hasty employment in the King’s affairs.
CHIEF JUSTICE 135You speak as having power to do wrong;
 but answer in th’ effect of your reputation, and
 satisfy the poor woman.
FALSTAFF Come hither, hostess.
He speaks aside to the Hostess.

Enter a Messenger, Master Gower.

CHIEF JUSTICE Now, Master Gower, what news?
140 The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
 Are near at hand. The rest the paper tells.
He gives the Chief Justice a paper to read.
FALSTAFF, to the Hostess As I am a gentleman!
HOSTESS Faith, you said so before.
FALSTAFF As I am a gentleman. Come. No more words
145 of it.
HOSTESS By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be
 fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my
 dining chambers.
FALSTAFF Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking. And for
150 thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the
 Prodigal or the German hunting in waterwork is
 worth a thousand of these bed-hangers and these

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 1

 fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou
 canst. Come, an ’twere not for thy humors, there’s
155 not a better wench in England. Go wash thy face,
 and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in this
 humor with me. Dost not know me? Come, come. I
 know thou wast set on to this.
HOSTESS Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty
160 nobles. I’ faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God
 save me, la.
FALSTAFF Let it alone. I’ll make other shift. You’ll be a
 fool still.
HOSTESS Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my
165 gown. I hope you’ll come to supper. You’ll pay
 me all together?
FALSTAFF Will I live? Aside to Bardolph. Go with her,
 with her. Hook on, hook on.
HOSTESS Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at
170 supper?
FALSTAFF No more words. Let’s have her.
Hostess, Fang, Snare, Bardolph, Page,
and others exit.

CHIEF JUSTICE, to Gower I have heard better news.
FALSTAFF, to Chief Justice What’s the news, my good
CHIEF JUSTICE, to Gower 175Where lay the King
GOWER At Basingstoke, my lord.
FALSTAFF, to Chief Justice I hope, my lord, all’s
 well. What is the news, my lord?
CHIEF JUSTICE, to Gower 180Come all his forces back?
 No. Fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse
 Are marched up to my Lord of Lancaster
 Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

FALSTAFF, to Chief Justice 
 Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord?
185 You shall have letters of me presently.
 Come. Go along with me, good Master Gower.
CHIEF JUSTICE What’s the matter?
FALSTAFF Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to
190 dinner?
GOWER I must wait upon my good lord here. I thank
 you, good Sir John.
CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, you loiter here too long, being
 you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go.
FALSTAFF 195Will you sup with me, Master Gower?
CHIEF JUSTICE What foolish master taught you these
 manners, Sir John?
FALSTAFF Master Gower, if they become me not, he was
 a fool that taught them me.—This is the right
200 fencing grace, my lord: tap for tap, and so part fair.
CHIEF JUSTICE Now the Lord lighten thee. Thou art a
 great fool.
They separate and exit.

Scene 2
Enter the Prince and Poins.

PRINCE Before God, I am exceeding weary.
POINS Is ’t come to that? I had thought weariness durst
 not have attached one of so high blood.
PRINCE Faith, it does me, though it discolors the complexion
5 of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it
 not show vilely in me to desire small beer?
POINS Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied
 as to remember so weak a composition.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

PRINCE Belike then my appetite was not princely got,
10 for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor
 creature small beer. But indeed these humble considerations
 make me out of love with my greatness.
 What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name,
 or to know thy face tomorrow, or to take note how
15 many pair of silk stockings thou hast—with these,
 and those that were thy peach-colored ones—or to
 bear the inventory of thy shirts, as, one for superfluity
 and another for use. But that the tennis-court
 keeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of
20 linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there,
 as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest
 of the low countries have made a shift to eat up thy
 holland; [and God knows whether those that bawl
 out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit His kingdom;
25 but the midwives say the children are not in the
 fault, whereupon the world increases and kindreds
 are mightily strengthened.]
POINS How ill it follows, after you have labored so
 hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many
30 good young princes would do so, their fathers being
 so sick as yours at this time is?
PRINCE Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?
POINS Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good thing.
PRINCE It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding
35 than thine.
POINS Go to. I stand the push of your one thing that
 you will tell.
PRINCE Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be
 sad, now my father is sick—albeit I could tell to
40 thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to
 call my friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed too.
POINS Very hardly, upon such a subject.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

PRINCE By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the
 devil’s book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and
45 persistency. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee,
 my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick;
 and keeping such vile company as thou art hath in
 reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.
POINS The reason?
PRINCE 50What wouldst thou think of me if I should
POINS I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
PRINCE It would be every man’s thought, and thou art
 a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks. Never
55 a man’s thought in the world keeps the roadway
 better than thine. Every man would think me an
 hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
 thought to think so?
POINS Why, because you have been so lewd and so
60 much engraffed to Falstaff.
PRINCE And to thee.
POINS By this light, I am well spoke on. I can hear it
 with mine own ears. The worst that they can say of
 me is that I am a second brother, and that I am a
65 proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I
 confess, I cannot help. By the Mass, here comes

Enter Bardolph and Page.

PRINCE And the boy that I gave Falstaff. He had him
 from me Christian, and look if the fat villain have
70 not transformed him ape.
BARDOLPH God save your Grace.
PRINCE And yours, most noble Bardolph.
POINS, to Bardolph Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful
 fool, must you be blushing? Wherefore blush
75 you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms are you

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

 become! Is ’t such a matter to get a pottle-pot’s
PAGE He calls me e’en now, my lord, through a red
 lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from
80 the window. At last I spied his eyes, and methought
 he had made two holes in the ale-wife’s new
 petticoat and so peeped through.
PRINCE Has not the boy profited?
BARDOLPH, to Page Away, you whoreson upright rabbit,
85 away!
PAGE Away, you rascally Althea’s dream, away!
PRINCE Instruct us, boy. What dream, boy?
PAGE Marry, my lord, Althea dreamt she was delivered
 of a firebrand, and therefore I call him her dream.
PRINCE 90A crown’s worth of good interpretation. There
 ’tis, boy.He gives the Page money.
POINS O, that this good blossom could be kept from
 cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.
He gives the Page money.
BARDOLPH An you do not make him be hanged among
95 you, the gallows shall have wrong.
PRINCE And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH Well, my good lord. He heard of your
 Grace’s coming to town. There’s a letter for you.
He gives the Prince a paper.
POINS Delivered with good respect. And how doth the
100 Martlemas your master?
BARDOLPH In bodily health, sir.
POINS Marry, the immortal part needs a physician, but
 that moves not him. Though that be sick, it dies not.
PRINCE I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as
105 my dog, and he holds his place, for look you how he
 writes.He shows the letter to Poins.
POINS reads the superscription John Falstaff, knight.
 Every man must know that as oft as he has occasion

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

 to name himself, even like those that are kin to the
110 King, for they never prick their finger but they say
 “There’s some of the King’s blood spilt.” “How
 comes that?” says he that takes upon him not to
 conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower’s
 cap: “I am the King’s poor cousin, sir.”
PRINCE 115Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it
 from Japheth. But to the letter: Reads. Sir John
 Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King nearest his
 father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting.

POINS Why, this is a certificate.
PRINCE 120Peace!
 Reads. I will imitate the honorable Romans in

POINS He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded.
PRINCE reads I commend me to thee, I commend thee,
125 and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he
 misuses thy favors so much that he swears thou art to
 marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou
 mayst, and so farewell.
 Thine by yea and no, which is as much as
130 to say, as thou usest him,
 Jack Falstaff with my familiars,
 John with my brothers and sisters, and
 Sir John with all Europe.

POINS My lord, I’ll steep this letter in sack and make
135 him eat it.
PRINCE That’s to make him eat twenty of his words.
 But do you use me thus, Ned? Must I marry your
POINS God send the wench no worse fortune! But I
140 never said so.
PRINCE Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and
 the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
 To Bardolph. Is your master here in London?
BARDOLPH Yea, my lord.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 2

PRINCE 145Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the
 old frank?
BARDOLPH At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.
PRINCE What company?
PAGE Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.
PRINCE 150Sup any women with him?
PAGE None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and
 Mistress Doll Tearsheet.
PRINCE What pagan may that be?
PAGE A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of
155 my master’s.
PRINCE Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the
 town bull.—Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at
POINS I am your shadow, my lord. I’ll follow you.
PRINCE 160Sirrah—you, boy—and Bardolph, no word to
 your master that I am yet come to town. There’s for
 your silence.He gives money.
BARDOLPH I have no tongue, sir.
PAGE And for mine, sir, I will govern it.
PRINCE 165Fare you well. Go.Bardolph and Page exit.
 This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.
POINS I warrant you, as common as the way between
 Saint Albans and London.
PRINCE How might we see Falstaff bestow himself
170 tonight in his true colors, and not ourselves be
POINS Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and
 wait upon him at his table as drawers.
PRINCE From a god to a bull: a heavy descension. It
175 was Jove’s case. From a prince to a ’prentice: a low
 transformation that shall be mine, for in everything
 the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me,
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 3

Scene 3
Enter Northumberland, his wife, and the wife to
Harry Percy.

 I pray thee, loving wife and gentle daughter,
 Give even way unto my rough affairs.
 Put not you on the visage of the times
 And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.
5 I have given over. I will speak no more.
 Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
 Alas, sweet wife, my honor is at pawn,
 And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.
 O yet, for God’s sake, go not to these wars.
10 The time was, father, that you broke your word
 When you were more endeared to it than now,
 When your own Percy, when my heart’s dear Harry,
 Threw many a northward look to see his father
 Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
15 Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
 There were two honors lost, yours and your son’s.
 For yours, the God of heaven brighten it.
 For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
 In the gray vault of heaven, and by his light
20 Did all the chivalry of England move
 To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
 Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
 He had no legs that practiced not his gait;
 And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
25 Became the accents of the valiant;
 For those that could speak low and tardily
 Would turn their own perfection to abuse

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 3

 To seem like him. So that in speech, in gait,
 In diet, in affections of delight,
30 In military rules, humors of blood,
 He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
 That fashioned others. And him—O wondrous him!
 O miracle of men!—him did you leave,
 Second to none, unseconded by you,
35 To look upon the hideous god of war
 In disadvantage, to abide a field
 Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur’s name
 Did seem defensible. So you left him.
 Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
40 To hold your honor more precise and nice
 With others than with him. Let them alone.
 The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
 Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
 Today might I, hanging on Hotspur’s neck,
45 Have talked of Monmouth’s grave.
 Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
 With new lamenting ancient oversights.
50 But I must go and meet with danger there,
 Or it will seek me in another place
 And find me worse provided.
 Till that the nobles and the armèd commons
55 Have of their puissance made a little taste.
 If they get ground and vantage of the King,
 Then join you with them like a rib of steel
 To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
 First let them try themselves. So did your son;
60 He was so suffered. So came I a widow,
 And never shall have length of life enough

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes
 That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven
 For recordation to my noble husband.
65 Come, come, go in with me. ’Tis with my mind
 As with the tide swelled up unto his height,
 That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
 Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
 But many thousand reasons hold me back.
70 I will resolve for Scotland. There am I
 Till time and vantage crave my company.
They exit.

Scene 4
Enter Francis and another Drawer.

FRANCIS What the devil hast thou brought there—
 applejohns? Thou knowest Sir John cannot endure
 an applejohn.
SECOND DRAWER Mass, thou sayst true. The Prince
5 once set a dish of applejohns before him and told
 him there were five more Sir Johns and, putting off
 his hat, said “I will now take my leave of these six
 dry, round, old, withered knights.” It angered him
 to the heart. But he hath forgot that.
FRANCIS 10Why then, cover and set them down, and see if
 thou canst find out Sneak’s noise. Mistress Tearsheet
 would fain hear some music. [Dispatch. The
 room where they supped is too hot. They’ll come in

Enter Will.]

WILL 15Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master
 Poins anon, and they will put on two of our jerkins

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 and aprons, and Sir John must not know of it.
 Bardolph hath brought word.
SECOND DRAWER By the Mass, here will be old utis. It
20 will be an excellent stratagem.
FRANCIS I’ll see if I can find out Sneak.
He exits with the Second Drawer.

Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet.

HOSTESS I’ faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in
 an excellent good temperality. Your pulsidge beats
 as extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your
25 color, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good
 truth, la. But, i’ faith, you have drunk too much
 canaries, and that’s a marvellous searching wine,
 and it perfumes the blood ere one can say “What’s
 this?” How do you now?
DOLL 30Better than I was. Hem.
HOSTESS Why, that’s well said. A good heart’s worth
 gold. Lo, here comes Sir John.

Enter Sir John Falstaff.

FALSTAFF, singing 
  When Arthur first in court—
 To Will. Empty the jordan.Will exits.
35  And was a worthy king—
 How now, Mistress Doll?
HOSTESS Sick of a calm, yea, good faith.
FALSTAFF So is all her sect. An they be once in a calm,
 they are sick.
DOLL 40A pox damn you, you muddy rascal. Is that all the
 comfort you give me?
FALSTAFF You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
DOLL I make them? Gluttony and diseases make them;
 I make them not.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

FALSTAFF 45If the cook help to make the gluttony, you
 help to make the diseases, Doll. We catch of you,
 Doll, we catch of you. Grant that, my poor virtue,
 grant that.
DOLL Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
FALSTAFF 50Your brooches, pearls, and ouches—for to
 serve bravely is to come halting off, you know; to
 come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and
 to surgery bravely, to venture upon the charged
 chambers bravely—
[DOLL 55Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!]
HOSTESS By my troth, this is the old fashion. You two
 never meet but you fall to some discord. You are
 both, i’ good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts.
 You cannot one bear with another’s confirmities.
60 What the good-year! One must bear, and to Doll
 that must be you. You are the weaker vessel, as they
 say, the emptier vessel.
DOLL Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full
 hogshead? There’s a whole merchant’s venture of
65 Bordeaux stuff in him. You have not seen a hulk
 better stuffed in the hold.—Come, I’ll be friends
 with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars, and
 whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is
 nobody cares.

Enter Drawer.

DRAWER 70Sir, Ancient Pistol’s below and would speak
 with you.
DOLL Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come
 hither. It is the foul-mouthed’st rogue in England.
HOSTESS If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by
75 my faith, I must live among my neighbors. I’ll no
 swaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 very best. Shut the door. There comes no swaggerers
 here. I have not lived all this while to have
 swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.
FALSTAFF 80Dost thou hear, hostess?
HOSTESS Pray you pacify yourself, Sir John. There
 comes no swaggerers here.
FALSTAFF Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.
HOSTESS Tilly-vally, Sir John, ne’er tell me. And your
85 ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was
 before Master Tisick the debuty t’ other day, and, as
 he said to me—’twas no longer ago than Wednesday
 last, i’ good faith—“Neighbor Quickly,” says
 he—Master Dumb, our minister, was by then—
90 “Neighbor Quickly,” says he, “receive those that
 are civil, for,” said he, “you are in an ill name.”
 Now he said so, I can tell whereupon. “For,” says
 he, “you are an honest woman, and well thought
 on. Therefore take heed what guests you receive.
95 Receive,” says he, “no swaggering companions.”
 There comes none here. You would bless you to
 hear what he said. No, I’ll no swaggerers.
FALSTAFF He’s no swaggerer, hostess, a tame cheater, i’
 faith. You may stroke him as gently as a puppy
100 greyhound. He’ll not swagger with a Barbary hen if
 her feathers turn back in any show of resistance.—
 Call him up, drawer.Drawer exits.
HOSTESS “Cheater” call you him? I will bar no honest
 man my house, nor no cheater, but I do not love
105 swaggering. By my troth, I am the worse when one
 says “swagger.” Feel, masters, how I shake; look
 you, I warrant you.
DOLL So you do, hostess.
HOSTESS Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an ’twere an
110 aspen leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

Enter Ancient Pistol, Bardolph, and Page.

PISTOL God save you, Sir John.
FALSTAFF Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I
 charge you with a cup of sack. Do you discharge
 upon mine hostess.
PISTOL 115I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two
FALSTAFF She is pistol-proof. Sir, you shall not hardly
 offend her.
HOSTESS Come, I’ll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I’ll
120 drink no more than will do me good, for no man’s
 pleasure, I.
PISTOL Then, to you, Mistress Dorothy! I will charge
DOLL Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion.
125 What, you poor, base, rascally, cheating lack-linen
 mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for
 your master.
PISTOL I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
DOLL Away, you cutpurse rascal, you filthy bung, away!
130 By this wine, I’ll thrust my knife in your mouldy
 chaps an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away,
 you bottle-ale rascal, you basket-hilt stale juggler,
 you. Since when, I pray you, sir? God’s light, with
 two points on your shoulder? Much!
PISTOL 135God let me not live but I will murder your ruff
 for this.
[FALSTAFF No more, Pistol. I would not have you go off
 here. Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.]
HOSTESS No, good Captain Pistol, not here, sweet
140 captain!
DOLL Captain? Thou abominable damned cheater, art
 thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 were of my mind, they would truncheon you out for
 taking their names upon you before you have
145 earned them. You a captain? You slave, for what?
 For tearing a poor whore’s ruff in a bawdy house?
 He a captain! Hang him, rogue. He lives upon
 mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain?
 God’s light, these villains will make the word as
150 odious [as the word “occupy,” which was an excellent
 good word before it was ill sorted.] Therefore
 captains had need look to ’t.
BARDOLPH, to Pistol Pray thee go down, good ancient.
FALSTAFF Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
PISTOL, to Bardolph 155Not I. I tell thee what, Corporal
 Bardolph, I could tear her. I’ll be revenged of her.
PAGE Pray thee go down.
PISTOL I’ll see her damned first to Pluto’s damnèd
 lake, by this hand, to th’ infernal deep with Erebus
160 and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I.
 Down, down, dogs! Down, Fates! Have we not
 Hiren here?He draws his sword.
HOSTESS Good Captain Peesell, be quiet. ’Tis very late,
 i’ faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
PISTOL 165These be good humors indeed. Shall pack-horses
 and hollow pampered jades of Asia, which
 cannot go but thirty mile a day, compare with
 Caesars and with cannibals and Troyant Greeks?
 Nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus, and let
170 the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys?
HOSTESS By my troth, captain, these are very bitter
BARDOLPH Begone, good ancient. This will grow to a
 brawl anon.
PISTOL 175Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have
 we not Hiren here?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

HOSTESS O’ my word, captain, there’s none such here.
 What the good-year, do you think I would deny her?
 For God’s sake, be quiet.
PISTOL 180Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis. Come,
 give ’s some sack. Si fortune me tormente, sperato
 me contento.
 Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend
 give fire. Give me some sack, and, sweetheart, lie
 thou there. Laying down his sword. Come we to
185 full points here? And are etceteras nothings?
FALSTAFF Pistol, I would be quiet.
PISTOL Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What, we have
 seen the seven stars.
DOLL For God’s sake, thrust him downstairs. I cannot
190 endure such a fustian rascal.
PISTOL “Thrust him downstairs”? Know we not Galloway
FALSTAFF Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
 shilling. Nay, an he do nothing but speak
195 nothing, he shall be nothing here.
BARDOLPH Come, get you downstairs.
PISTOL, taking up his sword What, shall we have
 incision? Shall we imbrue? Then death rock me
 asleep, abridge my doleful days. Why then, let
200 grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds untwind the Sisters
 Three. Come, Atropos, I say.
HOSTESS Here’s goodly stuff toward!
FALSTAFF Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee do not draw.
FALSTAFF, to Pistol 205Get you downstairs.They fight.
HOSTESS Here’s a goodly tumult. I’ll forswear keeping
 house afore I’ll be in these tirrits and frights. So,
 murder, I warrant now. Alas, alas, put up your
 naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.
Bardolph and Pistol exit.
DOLL 210I pray thee, Jack, be quiet. The rascal’s gone. Ah,
 you whoreson little valiant villain, you.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

HOSTESS, to Falstaff Are you not hurt i’ th’ groin?
 Methought he made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Enter Bardolph.

FALSTAFF Have you turned him out o’ doors?
BARDOLPH 215Yea, sir. The rascal’s drunk. You have hurt
 him, sir, i’ th’ shoulder.
FALSTAFF A rascal to brave me!
DOLL Ah, you sweet little rogue, you. Alas, poor ape,
 how thou sweat’st! Come, let me wipe thy face.
220 Come on, you whoreson chops. Ah, rogue, i’ faith, I
 love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy,
 worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better
 than the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!
FALSTAFF Ah, rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a
225 blanket.
DOLL Do, an thou darest for thy heart. An thou dost, I’ll
 canvass thee between a pair of sheets.

Enter Musicians and Francis.

PAGE The music is come, sir.
FALSTAFF Let them play.—Play, sirs.—Sit on my knee,
230 Doll. A rascal bragging slave! The rogue fled from
 me like quicksilver.
DOLL I’ faith, and thou followed’st him like a church.
 Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig,
 when wilt thou leave fighting a-days and foining a-nights
235 and begin to patch up thine old body for

Enter behind them Prince and Poins disguised.

FALSTAFF Peace, good Doll. Do not speak like a death’s-head;
 do not bid me remember mine end.
DOLL Sirrah, what humor’s the Prince of?
FALSTAFF 240A good shallow young fellow, he would have

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 made a good pantler; he would ’a chipped bread
DOLL They say Poins has a good wit.
FALSTAFF He a good wit? Hang him, baboon. His wit’s
245 as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. There’s no more
 conceit in him than is in a mallet.
DOLL Why does the Prince love him so then?
FALSTAFF Because their legs are both of a bigness, and
 he plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel,
250 and drinks off candles’ ends for flap-dragons, and
 rides the wild mare with the boys, and jumps upon
 joint stools, and swears with a good grace, and
 wears his boots very smooth like unto the sign of
 the Leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discreet
255 stories, and such other gambol faculties he has that
 show a weak mind and an able body, for the which
 the Prince admits him; for the Prince himself is
 such another. The weight of a hair will turn the
 scales between their avoirdupois.
PRINCE, aside to Poins 260Would not this nave of a wheel
 have his ears cut off?
POINS Let’s beat him before his whore.
PRINCE Look whe’er the withered elder hath not his
 poll clawed like a parrot.
POINS 265Is it not strange that desire should so many years
 outlive performance?
FALSTAFF Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE, aside to Poins Saturn and Venus this year in
 conjunction! What says th’ almanac to that?
POINS 270And look whether the fiery trigon, his man, be
 not lisping to his master’s old tables, his notebook,
 his counsel keeper.
FALSTAFF, to Doll Thou dost give me flattering busses.
DOLL By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant
275 heart.
FALSTAFF I am old, I am old.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

DOLL I love thee better than I love e’er a scurvy young
 boy of them all.
FALSTAFF What stuff wilt thou have a kirtle of? I shall
280 receive money o’ Thursday; thou shalt have a cap
 tomorrow. A merry song! Come, it grows late. We’ll
 to bed. Thou ’lt forget me when I am gone.
DOLL By my troth, thou ’lt set me a-weeping an thou
 sayst so. Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till
285 thy return. Well, harken a’ th’ end.
FALSTAFF Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE, POINS, coming forward Anon, anon, sir.
FALSTAFF Ha? A bastard son of the King’s?—And art
 not thou Poins his brother?
PRINCE 290Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a
 life dost thou lead?
FALSTAFF A better than thou. I am a gentleman. Thou
 art a drawer.
PRINCE Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by
295 the ears.
HOSTESS O, the Lord preserve thy good Grace! By my
 troth, welcome to London. Now the Lord bless that
 sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are you come from
FALSTAFF, to Prince 300Thou whoreson mad compound
 of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood,
 thou art welcome.
DOLL How? You fat fool, I scorn you.
POINS My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge
305 and turn all to a merriment if you take not the heat.
PRINCE, to Falstaff You whoreson candle-mine, you,
 how vilely did you speak of me even now before
 this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
HOSTESS God’s blessing of your good heart, and so she
310 is, by my troth.
FALSTAFF, to Prince Didst thou hear me?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

PRINCE Yea, and you knew me as you did when you ran
 away by Gad’s Hill. You knew I was at your back,
 and spoke it on purpose to try my patience.
FALSTAFF 315No, no, no, not so. I did not think thou wast
 within hearing.
PRINCE I shall drive you, then, to confess the wilfull
 abuse, and then I know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal, o’ mine honor, no abuse.
PRINCE 320Not to dispraise me and call me pantler and
 bread-chipper and I know not what?
FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal.
POINS No abuse?
FALSTAFF No abuse, Ned, i’ th’ world, honest Ned,
325 none. I dispraised him before the wicked, (to
that the wicked might not fall in love with
 thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a
 careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to
 give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal.—None, Ned,
330 none. No, faith, boys, none.
PRINCE See now whether pure fear and entire cowardice
 doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman
 to close with us. Is she of the wicked, is
 thine hostess here of the wicked, or is thy boy of the
335 wicked, or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in
 his nose, of the wicked?
POINS Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
FALSTAFF The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable,
 and his face is Lucifer’s privy kitchen,
340 where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For
 the boy, there is a good angel about him, but the
 devil blinds him too.
PRINCE For the women?
FALSTAFF For one of them, she’s in hell already and
345 burns poor souls. For th’ other, I owe her money,
 and whether she be damned for that I know not.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

HOSTESS No, I warrant you.
FALSTAFF No, I think thou art not. I think thou art quit
 for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon
350 thee for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house
 contrary to the law, for the which I think thou wilt
HOSTESS All vitlars do so. What’s a joint of mutton or
 two in a whole Lent?
PRINCE, to Doll 355You, gentlewoman.
DOLL What says your Grace?
FALSTAFF His grace says that which his flesh rebels
Peto knocks at door.
HOSTESS Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th’ door
360 there, Francis.Francis exits.

Enter Peto.

PRINCE Peto, how now, what news?
 The King your father is at Westminster,
 And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
 Come from the north, and as I came along
365 I met and overtook a dozen captains,
 Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the taverns
 And asking everyone for Sir John Falstaff.
 By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
 So idly to profane the precious time
370 When tempest of commotion, like the south
 Borne with black vapor, doth begin to melt
 And drop upon our bare unarmèd heads.—
 Give me my sword and cloak.—Falstaff, good
 night.Prince, Peto, and Poins exit.
FALSTAFF 375Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the
 night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 2. SC. 4

 (Knocking. Bardolph exits.) More knocking at the
 door? (Bardolph returns.) How now, what’s the
380 You must away to court, sir, presently.
 A dozen captains stay at door for you.
FALSTAFF, to Page Pay the musicians, sirrah.—
 Farewell, hostess.—Farewell, Doll. You see, my
 good wenches, how men of merit are sought after.
385 The undeserver may sleep when the man of action
 is called on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent
 away post, I will see you again ere I go.
DOLL I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to
 burst—well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
FALSTAFF 390Farewell, farewell.
He exits with Bardolph, Page, and Musicians.
HOSTESS Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these
 twenty-nine years, come peasecod time, but an
 honester and truer-hearted man—well, fare thee
BARDOLPH, within 395Mistress Tearsheet!
HOSTESS What’s the matter?
BARDOLPH, within Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my
HOSTESS O, run, Doll, run, run, good Doll. [Come.—
400 She comes blubbered.—Yea! Will you come, Doll?]
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter the King in his nightgown with a Page.

 Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
 But, ere they come, bid them o’erread these letters
 And well consider of them. Make good speed.
Page exits.
 How many thousand of my poorest subjects
5 Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
 Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
 And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
 Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
10 Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
 And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
 Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
 Under the canopies of costly state,
 And lulled with sound of sweetest melody?
15 O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
 In loathsome beds and leavest the kingly couch
 A watch-case or a common ’larum bell?
 Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
 Seal up the shipboy’s eyes and rock his brains
20 In cradle of the rude imperious surge
 And in the visitation of the winds,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 1

 Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
 Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
 With deafing clamor in the slippery clouds
25 That with the hurly death itself awakes?
 Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
 To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
 And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
 With all appliances and means to boot,
30 Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down.
 Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter Warwick, Surrey and Sir John Blunt.

 Many good morrows to your Majesty.
KING Is it good morrow, lords?
WARWICK ’Tis one o’clock, and past.
35 Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.
 Have you read o’er the letter that I sent you?
WARWICK We have, my liege.
 Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
 How foul it is, what rank diseases grow,
40 And with what danger near the heart of it.
 It is but as a body yet distempered,
 Which to his former strength may be restored
 With good advice and little medicine.
 My Lord Northumberland will soon be cooled.
45 O God, that one might read the book of fate
 And see the revolution of the times
 Make mountains level, and the continent,
 Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
 Into the sea, and other times to see

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 1

50 The beachy girdle of the ocean
 Too wide for Neptune’s hips; how chance’s mocks
 And changes fill the cup of alteration
 With divers liquors! [O, if this were seen,
 The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
55 What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
 Would shut the book and sit him down and die.]
 ’Tis not ten years gone
 Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
 Did feast together, and in two years after
60 Were they at wars. It is but eight years since
 This Percy was the man nearest my soul,
 Who like a brother toiled in my affairs
 And laid his love and life under my foot,
 Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
65 Gave him defiance. But which of you was by—
 To Warwick. You, cousin Nevil, as I may
 When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,
 Then checked and rated by Northumberland,
70 Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy?
 “Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
 My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne”—
 Though then, God knows, I had no such intent,
 But that necessity so bowed the state
75 That I and greatness were compelled to kiss—
 “The time shall come,” thus did he follow it,
 “The time will come that foul sin, gathering head,
 Shall break into corruption”—so went on,
 Foretelling this same time’s condition
80 And the division of our amity.
 There is a history in all men’s lives
 Figuring the natures of the times deceased,
 The which observed, a man may prophesy,
 With a near aim, of the main chance of things

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 1

85 As yet not come to life, who in their seeds
 And weak beginning lie intreasurèd.
 Such things become the hatch and brood of time,
 And by the necessary form of this,
 King Richard might create a perfect guess
90 That great Northumberland, then false to him,
 Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness,
 Which should not find a ground to root upon
 Unless on you.
KING  Are these things then necessities?
95 Then let us meet them like necessities.
 And that same word even now cries out on us.
 They say the Bishop and Northumberland
 Are fifty thousand strong.
WARWICK  It cannot be, my lord.
100 Rumor doth double, like the voice and echo,
 The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace
 To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,
 The powers that you already have sent forth
 Shall bring this prize in very easily.
105 To comfort you the more, I have received
 A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
 Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
 And these unseasoned hours perforce must add
 Unto your sickness.
KING 110 I will take your counsel.
 And were these inward wars once out of hand,
 We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

Scene 2
Enter Justice Shallow and Justice Silence.

SHALLOW Come on, come on, come on. Give me your
 hand, sir, give me your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by
 the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence?
SILENCE Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
SHALLOW 5And how doth my cousin your bedfellow?
 And your fairest daughter and mine, my goddaughter
SILENCE Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow.
SHALLOW By yea and no, sir. I dare say my cousin
10 William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford
 still, is he not?
SILENCE Indeed, sir, to my cost.
SHALLOW He must then to the Inns o’ Court shortly. I
 was once of Clement’s Inn, where I think they will
15 talk of mad Shallow yet.
SILENCE You were called “Lusty Shallow” then,
SHALLOW By the Mass, I was called anything, and I
 would have done anything indeed too, and roundly
20 too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire,
 and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone,
 and Will Squele, a Cotswold man. You had
 not four such swinge-bucklers in all the Inns o’
 Court again. And I may say to you, we knew where
25 the bona robas were and had the best of them all at
 commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir
 John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of
SILENCE This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon
30 about soldiers?
SHALLOW The same Sir John, the very same. I see him
 break Scoggin’s head at the court gate, when he
 was a crack not thus high; and the very same day did

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

 I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer,
35 behind Grey’s Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I
 have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance
 are dead.
SILENCE We shall all follow, cousin.
SHALLOW Certain, ’tis certain, very sure, very sure.
40 Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all. All
 shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford
SILENCE By my troth, cousin, I was not there.
SHALLOW Death is certain. Is old Dooble of your town
45 living yet?
SILENCE Dead, sir.
SHALLOW Jesu, Jesu, dead! He drew a good bow, and
 dead? He shot a fine shoot. John o’ Gaunt loved him
 well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! He
50 would have clapped i’ th’ clout at twelve score, and
 carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen
 and a half, that it would have done a man’s
 heart good to see. How a score of ewes now?
SILENCE Thereafter as they be, a score of good ewes
55 may be worth ten pounds.
SHALLOW And is old Dooble dead?
SILENCE Here come two of Sir John Falstaff’s men, as I

Enter Bardolph and one with him.

SHALLOW Good morrow, honest gentlemen.
BARDOLPH 60I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?
SHALLOW I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of
 this county and one of the King’s justices of the
 peace. What is your good pleasure with me?
BARDOLPH My captain, sir, commends him to you, my
65 captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by
 heaven, and a most gallant leader.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

SHALLOW He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good
 backsword man. How doth the good knight? May I
 ask how my lady his wife doth?
BARDOLPH 70Sir, pardon. A soldier is better accommodated
 than with a wife.
SHALLOW It is well said, in faith, sir, and it is well said
 indeed too. “Better accommodated.” It is good,
 yea, indeed is it. Good phrases are surely, and ever
75 were, very commendable. “Accommodated.” It
 comes of accommodo. Very good, a good phrase.
BARDOLPH Pardon, sir, I have heard the word—
 “phrase” call you it? By this day, I know not the
 phrase, but I will maintain the word with my sword
80 to be a soldierlike word, and a word of exceeding
 good command, by heaven. “Accommodated,” that
 is when a man is, as they say, accommodated, or
 when a man is being whereby he may be thought to
 be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

Enter Falstaff.

SHALLOW 85It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir
 John.—Give me your good hand, give me your
 Worship’s good hand. By my troth, you like well and
 bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.
FALSTAFF I am glad to see you well, good Master
90 Robert Shallow.—Master Sure-card, as I think?
SHALLOW No, Sir John. It is my cousin Silence, in
 commission with me.
FALSTAFF Good Master Silence, it well befits you
 should be of the peace.
SILENCE 95Your good Worship is welcome.
FALSTAFF Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you
 provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?
SHALLOW Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
They sit at a table.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

FALSTAFF Let me see them, I beseech you.
SHALLOW 100Where’s the roll? Where’s the roll? Where’s
 the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so,
 so, so, so. So, so. Yea, marry, sir.—Rafe Mouldy!—
 Let them appear as I call, let them do so, let them
 do so.

Enter Mouldy, followed by Shadow, Wart, Feeble,
and Bullcalf.

105 Let me see, where is Mouldy?
MOULDY, coming forward Here, an it please you.
SHALLOW What think you, Sir John? A good-limbed
 fellow, young, strong, and of good friends.
FALSTAFF Is thy name Mouldy?
MOULDY 110Yea, an ’t please you.
FALSTAFF ’Tis the more time thou wert used.
SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha, most excellent, i’ faith! Things
 that are mouldy lack use. Very singular good, in
 faith. Well said, Sir John, very well said.
FALSTAFF 115Prick him.
Shallow marks the scroll.
MOULDY I was pricked well enough before, an you
 could have let me alone. My old dame will be
 undone now for one to do her husbandry and her
 drudgery. You need not to have pricked me. There
120 are other men fitter to go out than I.
FALSTAFF Go to. Peace, Mouldy. You shall go. Mouldy,
 it is time you were spent.
SHALLOW Peace, fellow, peace. Stand aside. Know you
125 where you are?—For th’ other, Sir John. Let me
 see.—Simon Shadow!
FALSTAFF Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under.
 He’s like to be a cold soldier.
SHALLOW Where’s Shadow?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

SHADOW, coming forward 130Here, sir.
FALSTAFF Shadow, whose son art thou?
SHADOW My mother’s son, sir.
FALSTAFF Thy mother’s son! Like enough, and thy
 father’s shadow. So the son of the female is the
135 shadow of the male. It is often so, indeed, but much
 of the father’s substance.
SHALLOW Do you like him, Sir John?
FALSTAFF Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him,
 for we have a number of shadows to fill up the
140 muster book.
SHALLOW Thomas Wart!
FALSTAFF Where’s he?
WART, coming forward Here, sir.
FALSTAFF Is thy name Wart?
WART 145Yea, sir.
FALSTAFF Thou art a very ragged wart.
SHALLOW Shall I prick him down, Sir John?
FALSTAFF It were superfluous, for his apparel is built
 upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon
150 pins. Prick him no more.
SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha. You can do it, sir, you can do it. I
 commend you well.—Francis Feeble!
FEEBLE, coming forward Here, sir.
SHALLOW What trade art thou, Feeble?
FEEBLE 155A woman’s tailor, sir.
SHALLOW Shall I prick him, sir?
FALSTAFF You may, but if he had been a man’s tailor,
 he’d ha’ pricked you.—Wilt thou make as many
 holes in an enemy’s battle as thou hast done in a
160 woman’s petticoat?
FEEBLE I will do my good will, sir. You can have no
FALSTAFF Well said, good woman’s tailor, well said,
 courageous Feeble. Thou wilt be as valiant as the

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

165 wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse.—
 Prick the woman’s tailor well, Master Shallow,
 deep, Master Shallow.
FEEBLE I would Wart might have gone, sir.
FALSTAFF I would thou wert a man’s tailor, that thou
170 mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot
 put him to a private soldier that is the leader of so
 many thousands. Let that suffice, most forcible
FEEBLE It shall suffice, sir.
FALSTAFF 175I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble.—Who
 is the next?
SHALLOW Peter Bullcalf o’ th’ green.
FALSTAFF Yea, marry, let’s see Bullcalf.
BULLCALF, coming forward Here, sir.
FALSTAFF 180Fore God, a likely fellow. Come, prick me
 Bullcalf till he roar again.
BULLCALF O Lord, good my lord captain—
FALSTAFF What, dost thou roar before thou art
BULLCALF 185O Lord, sir, I am a diseased man.
FALSTAFF What disease hast thou?
BULLCALF A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I
 caught with ringing in the King’s affairs upon his
 coronation day, sir.
FALSTAFF 190Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown.
 We will have away thy cold, and I will take such
 order that thy friends shall ring for thee.—Is here
SHALLOW Here is two more called than your number.
195 You must have but four here, sir, and so I pray you
 go in with me to dinner.
FALSTAFF Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot
 tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth,
 Master Shallow.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

SHALLOW 200O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay
 all night in the windmill in Saint George’s Field?
FALSTAFF No more of that, good Master Shallow, no
 more of that.
SHALLOW Ha, ’twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork
205 alive?
FALSTAFF She lives, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW She never could away with me.
FALSTAFF Never, never. She would always say she could
 not abide Master Shallow.
SHALLOW 210By the Mass, I could anger her to th’ heart.
 She was then a bona roba. Doth she hold her own
FALSTAFF Old, old, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW Nay, she must be old. She cannot choose but
215 be old. Certain, she’s old, and had Robin Nightwork
 by old Nightwork before I came to Clement’s Inn.
SILENCE That’s fifty-five year ago.
SHALLOW Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that
 that this knight and I have seen!—Ha, Sir John, said
220 I well?
FALSTAFF We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master
SHALLOW That we have, that we have, that we have. In
 faith, Sir John, we have. Our watchword was “Hem,
225 boys.” Come, let’s to dinner, come, let’s to dinner.
 Jesus, the days that we have seen! Come, come.
Shallow, Silence, and Falstaff rise and exit.
BULLCALF Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my
 friend, and here’s four Harry ten-shillings in
 French crowns for you. He gives Bardolph money.
230 In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go.
 And yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care, but
 rather because I am unwilling, and, for mine own
 part, have a desire to stay with my friends. Else, sir,
 I did not care, for mine own part, so much.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

BARDOLPH 235Go to. Stand aside.
MOULDY And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my
 old dame’s sake, stand my friend. She has nobody to
 do anything about her when I am gone, and she is
 old and cannot help herself. You shall have forty,
240 sir.He gives money.
BARDOLPH Go to. Stand aside.
FEEBLE By my troth, I care not. A man can die but
 once. We owe God a death. I’ll ne’er bear a base
 mind. An ’t be my destiny, so; an ’t be not, so. No
245 man’s too good to serve ’s prince, and let it go
 which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for
 the next.
BARDOLPH Well said. Th’ art a good fellow.
FEEBLE Faith, I’ll bear no base mind.

Enter Falstaff and the Justices.

FALSTAFF 250Come, sir, which men shall I have?
SHALLOW Four of which you please.
BARDOLPH, aside to Falstaff Sir, a word with you. I
 have three pound to free Mouldy and Bullcalf.
FALSTAFF Go to, well.
SHALLOW 255Come, Sir John, which four will you have?
FALSTAFF Do you choose for me.
SHALLOW Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and
FALSTAFF Mouldy and Bullcalf! For you, Mouldy, stay
260 at home till you are past service.—And for your
 part, Bullcalf, grow till you come unto it. I will
 none of you.Mouldy and Bullcalf exit.
SHALLOW Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong.
 They are your likeliest men, and I would have you
265 served with the best.
FALSTAFF Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to
 choose a man? Care I for the limb, the thews, the

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

 stature, bulk and big assemblance of a man? Give
 me the spirit, Master Shallow. Here’s Wart. You see
270 what a ragged appearance it is. He shall charge you
 and discharge you with the motion of a pewterer’s
 hammer, come off and on swifter than he that
 gibbets on the brewer’s bucket. And this same half-faced
 fellow, Shadow, give me this man. He presents
275 no mark to the enemy. The foeman may with
 as great aim level at the edge of a penknife. And for
 a retreat, how swiftly will this Feeble, the woman’s
 tailor, run off! O, give me the spare men, and spare
 me the great ones.—Put me a caliver into Wart’s
280 hand, Bardolph.
BARDOLPH, giving Wart a musket Hold, Wart. Traverse.
 Thas, thas, thas.
FALSTAFF, to Wart Come, manage me your caliver: so,
 very well, go to, very good, exceeding good. O, give
285 me always a little, lean, old, chopped, bald shot.
 Well said, i’ faith, Wart. Th’ art a good scab. Hold,
 there’s a tester for thee.He gives Wart money.
SHALLOW He is not his craft’s master. He doth not do it
 right. I remember at Mile End Green, when I lay at
290 Clement’s Inn—I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur’s
 show—there was a little quiver fellow, and he
 would manage you his piece thus. Shallow performs
 with the musket. 
And he would about and
 about, and come you in, and come you in. “Rah,
295 tah, tah,” would he say. “Bounce,” would he say,
 and away again would he go, and again would he
 come. I shall ne’er see such a fellow.
FALSTAFF These fellows will do well, Master Shallow.
 —God keep you, Master Silence. I will not use
300 many words with you. Fare you well, gentlemen
 both. I thank you. I must a dozen mile tonight.—
 Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

SHALLOW Sir John, the Lord bless you. God prosper
 your affairs. God send us peace. At your return, visit
305 our house. Let our old acquaintance be renewed.
 Peradventure I will with you to the court.
FALSTAFF Fore God, would you would, Master
SHALLOW Go to. I have spoke at a word. God keep you.
FALSTAFF 310Fare you well, gentle gentlemen.
Shallow and Silence exit.
 On, Bardolph. Lead the men away.
All but Falstaff exit.
 As I return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see
 the bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how
 subject we old men are to this vice of lying. This
315 same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to
 me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hath
 done about Turnbull Street, and every third word a
 lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk’s tribute. I
 do remember him at Clement’s Inn, like a man
320 made after supper of a cheese paring. When he was
 naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish
 with a head fantastically carved upon it with a
 knife. He was so forlorn that his dimensions to
 any thick sight were invincible. He was the very
325 genius of famine, [yet lecherous as a monkey,
 and the whores called him “mandrake.”] He came
 ever in the rearward of the fashion, [and sung
 those tunes to the overscutched huswives that he
 heard the carmen whistle, and swore they were his
330 fancies or his good-nights.] And now is this Vice’s
 dagger become a squire, and talks as familiarly
 of John o’ Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother
 to him, and I’ll be sworn he ne’er saw him but
 once in the tilt-yard, and then he burst his head
335 for crowding among the Marshal’s men. I saw it
 and told John o’ Gaunt he beat his own name, for

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 3. SC. 2

 you might have thrust him and all his apparel into
 an eel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a
 mansion for him, a court. And now has he land and
340 beefs. Well, I’ll be acquainted with him if I return,
 and ’t shall go hard but I’ll make him a philosopher’s
 two stones to me. If the young dace be a
 bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of
 nature but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and
345 there an end.
He exits.

Scene 1
Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Lord
Bardolph, Hastings, and their officers within the Forest
of Gaultree.

ARCHBISHOP What is this forest called?
 ’Tis Gaultree Forest, an ’t shall please your Grace.
 Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers forth
 To know the numbers of our enemies.
5 We have sent forth already.
ARCHBISHOP  ’Tis well done.
 My friends and brethren in these great affairs,
 I must acquaint you that I have received
 New-dated letters from Northumberland,
10 Their cold intent, tenor, and substance, thus:
 Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
 As might hold sortance with his quality,
 The which he could not levy; whereupon
 He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes,
15 To Scotland, and concludes in hearty prayers
 That your attempts may overlive the hazard
 And fearful meeting of their opposite.
 Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
 And dash themselves to pieces.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

Enter Messenger.

HASTINGS 20 Now, what news?
 West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
 In goodly form comes on the enemy,
 And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number
 Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.
25 The just proportion that we gave them out.
 Let us sway on and face them in the field.

Enter Westmoreland.

 What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
 I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.
 Health and fair greeting from our general,
30 The Prince Lord John and Duke of Lancaster.
 Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace,
 What doth concern your coming.
WESTMORELAND  Then, my lord,
 Unto your Grace do I in chief address
35 The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
 Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
 Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
 And countenanced by boys and beggary—
 I say, if damned commotion so appeared
40 In his true, native, and most proper shape,
 You, reverend father, and these noble lords
 Had not been here to dress the ugly form
 Of base and bloody insurrection
 With your fair honors. You, Lord Archbishop,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

45 Whose see is by a civil peace maintained,
 Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touched,
 Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutored,
 Whose white investments figure innocence,
 The dove and very blessèd spirit of peace,
50 Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself
 Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,
 Into the harsh and boist’rous tongue of war,
 Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
 Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine
55 To a loud trumpet and a point of war?
 Wherefore do I this? So the question stands.
 Briefly, to this end: we are all diseased
 And with our surfeiting and wanton hours
 Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
60 And we must bleed for it; of which disease
 Our late King Richard, being infected, died.
 But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland,
 I take not on me here as a physician,
 Nor do I as an enemy to peace
65 Troop in the throngs of military men,
 But rather show awhile like fearful war
 To diet rank minds sick of happiness
 And purge th’ obstructions which begin to stop
 Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
70 I have in equal balance justly weighed
 What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we
 And find our griefs heavier than our offenses.
 We see which way the stream of time doth run
75 And are enforced from our most quiet there
 By the rough torrent of occasion,
 And have the summary of all our griefs,
 When time shall serve, to show in articles;

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 Which long ere this we offered to the King
80 And might by no suit gain our audience.
 When we are wronged and would unfold our griefs,
 We are denied access unto his person
 Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
 The dangers of the days but newly gone,
85 Whose memory is written on the earth
 With yet-appearing blood, and the examples
 Of every minute’s instance, present now,
 Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms,
 Not to break peace or any branch of it,
90 But to establish here a peace indeed,
 Concurring both in name and quality.
 Whenever yet was your appeal denied?
 Wherein have you been gallèd by the King?
 What peer hath been suborned to grate on you,
95 That you should seal this lawless bloody book
 Of forged rebellion with a seal divine
 [And consecrate commotion’s bitter edge?]
 My brother general, the commonwealth,
 [To brother born an household cruelty,]
100 I make my quarrel in particular.
 There is no need of any such redress,
 Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
 Why not to him in part, and to us all
 That feel the bruises of the days before
105 And suffer the condition of these times
 To lay a heavy and unequal hand
 Upon our honors?
WESTMORELAND  O, my good Lord Mowbray,
 Construe the times to their necessities,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

110 And you shall say indeed it is the time,
 And not the King, that doth you injuries.
 Yet for your part, it not appears to me
 Either from the King or in the present time
 That you should have an inch of any ground
115 To build a grief on. Were you not restored
 To all the Duke of Norfolk’s seigniories,
 Your noble and right well remembered father’s?
 What thing, in honor, had my father lost
 That need to be revived and breathed in me?
120 The King that loved him, as the state stood then,
 Was force perforce compelled to banish him,
 And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he,
 Being mounted and both rousèd in their seats,
 Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
125 Their armèd staves in charge, their beavers down,
 Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,
 And the loud trumpet blowing them together,
 Then, then, when there was nothing could have
130 My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
 O, when the King did throw his warder down—
 His own life hung upon the staff he threw—
 Then threw he down himself and all their lives
 That by indictment and by dint of sword
135 Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.
 You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.
 The Earl of Hereford was reputed then
 In England the most valiant gentleman.
 Who knows on whom fortune would then have
140 smiled?
 But if your father had been victor there,
 He ne’er had borne it out of Coventry;

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 For all the country in a general voice
 Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and
145 love
 Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on
 And blessed and graced, indeed more than the
 But this is mere digression from my purpose.
150 Here come I from our princely general
 To know your griefs, to tell you from his Grace
 That he will give you audience; and wherein
 It shall appear that your demands are just,
 You shall enjoy them, everything set off
155 That might so much as think you enemies.
 But he hath forced us to compel this offer,
 And it proceeds from policy, not love.
 Mowbray, you overween to take it so.
 This offer comes from mercy, not from fear.
160 For, lo, within a ken our army lies,
 Upon mine honor, all too confident
 To give admittance to a thought of fear.
 Our battle is more full of names than yours,
 Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
165 Our armor all as strong, our cause the best.
 Then reason will our hearts should be as good.
 Say you not then our offer is compelled.
 Well, by my will, we shall admit no parley.
 That argues but the shame of your offense.
170 A rotten case abides no handling.
 Hath the Prince John a full commission,
 In very ample virtue of his father,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 To hear and absolutely to determine
 Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
175 That is intended in the General’s name.
 I muse you make so slight a question.
ARCHBISHOP, giving Westmoreland a paper 
 Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,
 For this contains our general grievances.
 Each several article herein redressed,
180 All members of our cause, both here and hence
 That are insinewed to this action,
 Acquitted by a true substantial form
 And present execution of our wills
 To us and to our purposes confined,
185 We come within our awful banks again
 And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
 This will I show the General. Please you, lords,
 In sight of both our battles we may meet,
 And either end in peace, which God so frame,
190 Or to the place of difference call the swords
 Which must decide it.
ARCHBISHOP  My lord, we will do so.
Westmoreland exits.
 There is a thing within my bosom tells me
 That no conditions of our peace can stand.
195 Fear you not that. If we can make our peace
 Upon such large terms and so absolute
 As our conditions shall consist upon,
 Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
 Yea, but our valuation shall be such
200 That every slight and false-derivèd cause,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,
 Shall to the King taste of this action,
 That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
 We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
205 That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,
 And good from bad find no partition.
 No, no, my lord. Note this: the King is weary
 Of dainty and such picking grievances,
 For he hath found to end one doubt by death
210 Revives two greater in the heirs of life;
 And therefore will he wipe his tables clean
 And keep no telltale to his memory
 That may repeat and history his loss
 To new remembrance. For full well he knows
215 He cannot so precisely weed this land
 As his misdoubts present occasion;
 His foes are so enrooted with his friends
 That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
 He doth unfasten so and shake a friend;
220 So that this land, like an offensive wife
 That hath enraged him on to offer strokes,
 As he is striking holds his infant up
 And hangs resolved correction in the arm
 That was upreared to execution.
225 Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods
 On late offenders, that he now doth lack
 The very instruments of chastisement,
 So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
 May offer but not hold.
ARCHBISHOP 230 ’Tis very true,
 And therefore be assured, my good Lord Marshal,
 If we do now make our atonement well,
 Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
 Grow stronger for the breaking.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

MOWBRAY 235 Be it so.
 Here is returned my Lord of Westmoreland.

Enter Westmoreland.

WESTMORELAND, to the Archbishop 
 The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your Lordship
 To meet his Grace just distance ’tween our armies.

Enter Prince John and his army.

MOWBRAY, to the Archbishop 
 Your Grace of York, in God’s name then set
240 forward.
 Before, and greet his Grace.—My lord, we come.
All move forward.
 You are well encountered here, my cousin
 Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop,—
245 And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.—
 My Lord of York, it better showed with you
 When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
 Encircled you to hear with reverence
 Your exposition on the holy text
250 Than now to see you here, an iron man talking,
 Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
 Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
 That man that sits within a monarch’s heart
 And ripens in the sunshine of his favor,
255 Would he abuse the countenance of the King,
 Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach
 In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord
 It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
260 How deep you were within the books of God,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 To us the speaker in His parliament,
 To us th’ imagined voice of God Himself,
 The very opener and intelligencer
 Between the grace, the sanctities, of heaven,
265 And our dull workings? O, who shall believe
 But you misuse the reverence of your place,
 Employ the countenance and grace of heaven
 As a false favorite doth his prince’s name,
 In deeds dishonorable? You have ta’en up,
270 Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
 The subjects of His substitute, my father,
 And both against the peace of heaven and him
 Have here up-swarmed them.
ARCHBISHOP  Good my Lord of
275 Lancaster,
 I am not here against your father’s peace,
 But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,
 The time misordered doth, in common sense,
 Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form
280 To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace
 The parcels and particulars of our grief,
 The which hath been with scorn shoved from the
 Whereon this Hydra son of war is born,
285 Whose dangerous eyes may well be charmed asleep
 With grant of our most just and right desires,
 And true obedience, of this madness cured,
 Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.
 If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
290 To the last man.
HASTINGS  And though we here fall down,
 We have supplies to second our attempt;
 If they miscarry, theirs shall second them,
 And so success of mischief shall be born,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

295 And heir from heir shall hold his quarrel up
 Whiles England shall have generation.
 You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow
 To sound the bottom of the after-times.
 Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly
300 How far forth you do like their articles.
 I like them all, and do allow them well,
 And swear here by the honor of my blood
 My father’s purposes have been mistook,
 And some about him have too lavishly
305 Wrested his meaning and authority.
 To the Archbishop. My lord, these griefs shall be
 with speed redressed;
 Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
 Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
310 As we will ours, and here, between the armies,
 Let’s drink together friendly and embrace,
 That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
 Of our restorèd love and amity.
 I take your princely word for these redresses.
315 I give it you, and will maintain my word,
 And thereupon I drink unto your Grace.
The Leaders of both armies begin to drink together.
HASTINGS, to an Officer 
 Go, captain, and deliver to the army
 This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part.
 I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain.
Officer exits.
ARCHBISHOP, toasting Westmoreland 
320 To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.
WESTMORELAND, returning the toast 

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

 I pledge your Grace, and if you knew what pains
 I have bestowed to breed this present peace,
 You would drink freely. But my love to you
 Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
325 I do not doubt you.
WESTMORELAND  I am glad of it.—
 Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
 You wish me health in very happy season,
 For I am on the sudden something ill.
330 Against ill chances men are ever merry,
 But heaviness foreruns the good event.
 Therefore be merry, coz, since sudden sorrow
 Serves to say thus: “Some good thing comes
335 Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.
 So much the worse if your own rule be true.
Shout within.
 The word of peace is rendered. Hark how they
 This had been cheerful after victory.
340 A peace is of the nature of a conquest,
 For then both parties nobly are subdued,
 And neither party loser.
JOHN OF LANCASTER, to Westmoreland  Go, my lord,
 And let our army be dischargèd too.
Westmoreland exits.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 1

345 To the Archbishop. And, good my lord, so please
 you, let our trains
 March by us, that we may peruse the men
 We should have coped withal.
ARCHBISHOP  Go, good Lord
350 Hastings,
 And ere they be dismissed, let them march by.
Hastings exits.
 I trust, lords, we shall lie tonight together.

Enter Westmoreland.

 Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
 The leaders, having charge from you to stand,
355 Will not go off until they hear you speak.
JOHN OF LANCASTER They know their duties.

Enter Hastings.

HASTINGS, to the Archbishop 
 My lord, our army is dispersed already.
 Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their
360 East, west, north, south, or, like a school broke up,
 Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.
 Good tidings, my Lord Hastings, for the which
 I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason.—
 And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,
365 Of capital treason I attach you both.
 Is this proceeding just and honorable?
WESTMORELAND Is your assembly so?
 Will you thus break your faith?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 2

JOHN OF LANCASTER  I pawned thee none.
370 I promised you redress of these same grievances
 Whereof you did complain, which, by mine honor,
 I will perform with a most Christian care.
 But for you rebels, look to taste the due
 Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
375 Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
 Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.—
 Strike up our drums; pursue the scattered stray.
 God, and not we, hath safely fought today.—
 Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
380 Treason’s true bed and yielder-up of breath.
They exit.

Scene 2
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile.

FALSTAFF What’s your name, sir? Of what condition are
 you, and of what place, I pray?
COLEVILE I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of
 the Dale.
FALSTAFF 5Well then, Colevile is your name, a knight is
 your degree, and your place the Dale. Colevile shall
 be still your name, a traitor your degree, and the
 dungeon your place, a place deep enough so shall
 you be still Colevile of the Dale.
COLEVILE 10Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
FALSTAFF As good a man as he, sir, whoe’er I am. Do
 you yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat,
 they are the drops of thy lovers and they weep for
 thy death. Therefore rouse up fear and trembling,
15 and do observance to my mercy.
COLEVILE I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that
 thought yield me.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 2

FALSTAFF I have a whole school of tongues in this belly
 of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any
20 other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any
 indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in
 Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes
 me. Here comes our general.

Enter John, Westmoreland, and the rest.

 The heat is past. Follow no further now.
25 Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
Westmoreland exits. Retreat is sounded.
 Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
 When everything is ended, then you come.
 These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
 One time or other break some gallows’ back.
FALSTAFF 30I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be
 thus. I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the
 reward of valor. Do you think me a swallow, an
 arrow, or a bullet? Have I in my poor and old
 motion the expedition of thought? I have speeded
35 hither with the very extremest inch of possibility. I
 have foundered ninescore and odd posts, and here,
 travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and immaculate
 valor taken Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most
 furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of
40 that? He saw me and yielded, that I may justly say,
 with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, “There, cousin,
 I came, saw, and overcame.”
JOHN OF LANCASTER It was more of his courtesy than
 your deserving.
FALSTAFF 45I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him.
 And I beseech your Grace let it be booked with the
 rest of this day’s deeds, or, by the Lord, I will have it
 in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture
 on the top on ’t, Colevile kissing my foot; to the

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 2

50 which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show
 like gilt twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of
 fame o’ershine you as much as the full moon doth
 the cinders of the element (which show like pins’
 heads to her), believe not the word of the noble.
55 Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.
JOHN OF LANCASTER Thine’s too heavy to mount.
FALSTAFF Let it shine, then.
JOHN OF LANCASTER Thine’s too thick to shine.
FALSTAFF Let it do something, my good lord, that may
60 do me good, and call it what you will.
JOHN OF LANCASTER Is thy name Colevile?
COLEVILE It is, my lord.
JOHN OF LANCASTER A famous rebel art thou,
FALSTAFF 65And a famous true subject took him.
 I am, my lord, but as my betters are
 That led me hither. Had they been ruled by me,
 You should have won them dearer than you have.
FALSTAFF I know not how they sold themselves, but
70 thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis,
 and I thank thee for thee.

Enter Westmoreland.

JOHN OF LANCASTER Now, have you left pursuit?
 Retreat is made and execution stayed.
 Send Colevile with his confederates
75 To York, to present execution.—
 Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure.
Blunt exits with Colevile.
 And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords.
 I hear the King my father is sore sick.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 2

 Our news shall go before us to his Majesty,
80 To Westmoreland. Which, cousin, you shall bear
 to comfort him,
 And we with sober speed will follow you.
FALSTAFF My lord, I beseech you give me leave to go
 through Gloucestershire, and, when you come to
85 court, stand my good lord, pray, in your good
 Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition,
 Shall better speak of you than you deserve.
All but Falstaff exit.
FALSTAFF I would you had but the wit; ’twere better
90 than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young
 sober-blooded boy doth not love me, nor a man
 cannot make him laugh. But that’s no marvel; he
 drinks no wine. There’s never none of these demure
 boys come to any proof, for thin drink doth so
95 overcool their blood, and making many fish meals,
 that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness, and
 then, when they marry, they get wenches. They are
 generally fools and cowards, which some of us
 should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris
100 sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me
 into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and
 dull and crudy vapors which environ it, makes it
 apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery,
 and delectable shapes, which, delivered o’er to the
105 voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes
 excellent wit. The second property of your excellent
 sherris is the warming of the blood, which,
 before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale,
 which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice.
110 But the sherris warms it and makes it course from
 the inwards to the parts’ extremes. It illumineth the

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 2

 face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest
 of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the
 vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me
115 all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed
 up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage, and
 this valor comes of sherris. So that skill in the
 weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it
 a-work; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept
120 by a devil till sack commences it and sets it in
 act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is
 valiant, for the cold blood he did naturally inherit
 of his father he hath, like lean, sterile, and bare
 land, manured, husbanded, and tilled with excellent
125 endeavor of drinking good and good store
 of fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant.
 If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle
 I would teach them should be to forswear
 thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.

Enter Bardolph.

130 How now, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH The army is discharged all and gone.
FALSTAFF Let them go. I’ll through Gloucestershire,
 and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow,
 Esquire. I have him already temp’ring between my
135 finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with
 him. Come away.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

Scene 3
Enter the King in a chair, Warwick, Thomas Duke of
Clarence, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, and

 Now, lords, if God doth give successful end
 To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
 We will our youth lead on to higher fields
 And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
5 Our navy is addressed, our power collected,
 Our substitutes in absence well invested,
 And everything lies level to our wish.
 Only we want a little personal strength;
 And pause us till these rebels now afoot
10 Come underneath the yoke of government.
 Both which we doubt not but your Majesty
 Shall soon enjoy.
 Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, where is the
 Prince your brother?
15 I think he’s gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.
 And how accompanied?
HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER  I do not know, my lord.
 Is not his brother Thomas of Clarence with him?
 No, my good lord, he is in presence here.
THOMAS OF CLARENCE, coming forward 20What would
 my lord and father?
 Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 How chance thou art not with the Prince thy
25 He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas.
 Thou hast a better place in his affection
 Than all thy brothers. Cherish it, my boy,
 And noble offices thou mayst effect
 Of mediation, after I am dead,
30 Between his greatness and thy other brethren.
 Therefore omit him not, blunt not his love,
 Nor lose the good advantage of his grace
 By seeming cold or careless of his will.
 For he is gracious if he be observed;
35 He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
 Open as day for melting charity;
 Yet notwithstanding, being incensed he is flint,
 As humorous as winter, and as sudden
 As flaws congealèd in the spring of day.
40 His temper therefore must be well observed.
 Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
 When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth;
 But, being moody, give him time and scope
 Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
45 Confound themselves with working. Learn this,
 And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends,
 A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,
 That the united vessel of their blood,
50 Mingled with venom of suggestion
 (As, force perforce, the age will pour it in),
 Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
 As aconitum or rash gunpowder.
 I shall observe him with all care and love.
55 Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas?

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 He is not there today; he dines in London.
 And how accompanied? Canst thou tell that?
 With Poins and other his continual followers.
 Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds,
60 And he, the noble image of my youth,
 Is overspread with them; therefore my grief
 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death.
 The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape,
 In forms imaginary, th’ unguided days
65 And rotten times that you shall look upon
 When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
 For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
 When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
 When means and lavish manners meet together,
70 O, with what wings shall his affections fly
 Towards fronting peril and opposed decay!
 My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite.
 The Prince but studies his companions
 Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the
75 language,
 ’Tis needful that the most immodest word
 Be looked upon and learned; which, once attained,
 Your Highness knows, comes to no further use
 But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,
80 The Prince will, in the perfectness of time,
 Cast off his followers, and their memory
 Shall as a pattern or a measure live,
 By which his Grace must mete the lives of others,
 Turning past evils to advantages.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

85 ’Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb
 In the dead carrion.

Enter Westmoreland.

 Who’s here? Westmoreland?
 Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
 Added to that that I am to deliver.
90 Prince John your son doth kiss your Grace’s hand.
 Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all
 Are brought to the correction of your law.
 There is not now a rebel’s sword unsheathed,
 But peace puts forth her olive everywhere.
95 The manner how this action hath been borne
 Here at more leisure may your Highness read
 With every course in his particular.
He gives the King a paper.
 O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
 Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
100 The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt.

 Look, here’s more news.
 From enemies heavens keep your Majesty,
 And when they stand against you, may they fall
 As those that I am come to tell you of.
105 The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,
 With a great power of English and of Scots,
 Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown.
 The manner and true order of the fight
 This packet, please it you, contains at large.
He gives the King papers.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

110 And wherefore should these good news make me
 Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
 But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
 She either gives a stomach and no food—
115 Such are the poor, in health—or else a feast
 And takes away the stomach—such are the rich,
 That have abundance and enjoy it not.
 I should rejoice now at this happy news,
 And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy.
120 O, me! Come near me, now I am much ill.
 Comfort, your Majesty.
THOMAS OF CLARENCE  O, my royal father!
 My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.
 Be patient, princes. You do know these fits
125 Are with his Highness very ordinary.
 Stand from him, give him air. He’ll straight be
 No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs.
 Th’ incessant care and labor of his mind
130 Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in
 So thin that life looks through and will break out.
 The people fear me, for they do observe
 Unfathered heirs and loathly births of nature.
 The seasons change their manners, as the year
135 Had found some months asleep and leapt them
 The river hath thrice flowed, no ebb between,
 And the old folk, time’s doting chronicles,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Say it did so a little time before
140 That our great-grandsire, Edward, sicked and died.
 Speak lower, princes, for the King recovers.
 This apoplexy will certain be his end.
 I pray you take me up and bear me hence
 Into some other chamber. Softly, pray.
The King is carried to a bed on another
part of the stage.

145 Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends,
 Unless some dull and favorable hand
 Will whisper music to my weary spirit.
WARWICK, to an Attendant 
 Call for the music in the other room.
 Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
The crown is placed on the bed.
THOMAS OF CLARENCE, aside to the others 
150 His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
 Less noise, less noise.

Enter Prince Harry.

PRINCE  Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
 I am here, brother, full of heaviness.
 How now, rain within doors, and none abroad?
155 How doth the King?
 Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.
 He altered much upon the hearing it.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

PRINCE If he be sick with joy, he’ll recover without
160 physic.
 Not so much noise, my lords.—Sweet prince, speak
 The King your father is disposed to sleep.
 Let us withdraw into the other room.
165 Will ’t please your Grace to go along with us?
 No, I will sit and watch here by the King.
All but Prince and King exit.
 Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
 Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
 O polished perturbation, golden care,
170 That keep’st the ports of slumber open wide
 To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now;
 Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
 As he whose brow with homely biggen bound
 Snores out the watch of night. O majesty,
175 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
 Like a rich armor worn in heat of day,
 That scald’st with safety. By his gates of breath
 There lies a downy feather which stirs not;
 Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
180 Perforce must move. My gracious lord, my father,
 This sleep is sound indeed. This is a sleep
 That from this golden rigol hath divorced
 So many English kings. Thy due from me
 Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood,
185 Which nature, love, and filial tenderness
 Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.
 My due from thee is this imperial crown,
 Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
 Derives itself to me. He puts on the crown. Lo,
190 where it sits,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Which God shall guard. And, put the world’s whole
 Into one giant arm, it shall not force
 This lineal honor from me. This from thee
195 Will I to mine leave, as ’tis left to me.
He exits with the crown.
KING, rising up in his bed Warwick! Gloucester!

Enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence, and others.

THOMAS OF CLARENCE Doth the King call?
 What would your Majesty? How fares your Grace?
200 Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?
 We left the Prince my brother here, my liege,
 Who undertook to sit and watch by you.
 The Prince of Wales? Where is he? Let me see him.
 [He is not here.]
205 This door is open. He is gone this way.
 He came not through the chamber where we
 Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow?
 When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.
210 The Prince hath ta’en it hence. Go seek him out.
 Is he so hasty that he doth suppose my sleep my
 Find him, my Lord of Warwick. Chide him hither.
Warwick exits.
 This part of his conjoins with my disease

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

215 And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you
 How quickly nature falls into revolt
 When gold becomes her object!
 For this the foolish overcareful fathers
220 Have broke their sleep with thoughts,
 Their brains with care, their bones with industry.
 For this they have engrossèd and piled up
 The cankered heaps of strange-achievèd gold.
 For this they have been thoughtful to invest
225 Their sons with arts and martial exercises—
 When, like the bee, tolling from every flower
 The virtuous sweets,
 Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with
230 We bring it to the hive and, like the bees,
 Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste
 Yields his engrossments to the ending father.

Enter Warwick.

 Now where is he that will not stay so long
 Till his friend sickness hath determined me?
235 My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
 Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
 With such a deep demeanor in great sorrow
 That tyranny, which never quaffed but blood,
 Would, by beholding him, have washed his knife
240 With gentle eyedrops. He is coming hither.
 But wherefore did he take away the crown?

Enter Prince Harry with the crown.

 Lo where he comes.—Come hither to me, Harry.—
 Depart the chamber. Leave us here alone.
Gloucester, Clarence, Warwick, and others exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 I never thought to hear you speak again.
245 Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
 I stay too long by thee; I weary thee.
 Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair
 That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honors
 Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth,
250 Thou seek’st the greatness that will overwhelm
 Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity
 Is held from falling with so weak a wind
 That it will quickly drop. My day is dim.
255 Thou hast stol’n that which after some few hours
 Were thine without offense, and at my death
 Thou hast sealed up my expectation.
 Thy life did manifest thou loved’st me not,
 And thou wilt have me die assured of it.
260 Thou hid’st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
 Whom thou hast whetted on thy stony heart
 To stab at half an hour of my life.
 What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
 Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself,
265 And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
 That thou art crownèd, not that I am dead.
 Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
 Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head;
 Only compound me with forgotten dust.
270 Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
 Pluck down my officers, break my decrees,
 For now a time is come to mock at form.
 Harry the Fifth is crowned. Up, vanity,
 Down, royal state, all you sage councillors,
275 hence,
 And to the English court assemble now,
 From every region, apes of idleness.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum.
 Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
280 Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
 The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
 Be happy, he will trouble you no more.
 England shall double gild his treble guilt.
 England shall give him office, honor, might,
285 For the fifth Harry from curbed license plucks
 The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
 Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
 O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
 When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
290 What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
 O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,
 Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.
PRINCE, placing the crown on the pillow 
 O pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,
 The moist impediments unto my speech,
295 I had forestalled this dear and deep rebuke
 Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
 The course of it so far. There is your crown,
 And He that wears the crown immortally
 Long guard it yours. He kneels. If I affect it
300 more
 Than as your honor and as your renown,
 Let me no more from this obedience rise,
 Which my most inward true and duteous spirit
 Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending.
305 God witness with me, when I here came in
 And found no course of breath within your Majesty,
 How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
 O, let me in my present wildness die
 And never live to show th’ incredulous world
310 The noble change that I have purposèd.
 Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
 And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 I spake unto this crown as having sense,
 And thus upbraided it: “The care on thee
315 depending
 Hath fed upon the body of my father;
 Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.
 Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
 Preserving life in med’cine potable;
320 But thou, most fine, most honored, most renowned,
 Hast eat thy bearer up.” Thus, my most royal liege,
 Accusing it, I put it on my head
 To try with it, as with an enemy
 That had before my face murdered my father,
325 The quarrel of a true inheritor.
 But if it did infect my blood with joy
 Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride,
 If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
 Did with the least affection of a welcome
330 Give entertainment to the might of it,
 Let God forever keep it from my head
 And make me as the poorest vassal is
 That doth with awe and terror kneel to it.
KING O my son,
335 God put it in thy mind to take it hence
 That thou mightst win the more thy father’s love,
 Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.
 Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed
 And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
340 That ever I shall breathe.
The Prince rises from his knees and sits
near the bed.

 God knows, my son,
 By what bypaths and indirect crook’d ways
 I met this crown, and I myself know well
 How troublesome it sat upon my head.
345 To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
 Better opinion, better confirmation,

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 For all the soil of the achievement goes
 With me into the earth. It seemed in me
 But as an honor snatched with boist’rous hand,
350 And I had many living to upbraid
 My gain of it by their assistances,
 Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
 Wounding supposèd peace. All these bold fears
 Thou seest with peril I have answerèd,
355 For all my reign hath been but as a scene
 Acting that argument. And now my death
 Changes the mood, for what in me was purchased
 Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort.
 So thou the garland wear’st successively.
360 Yet though thou stand’st more sure than I could do,
 Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green,
 And all my friends, which thou must make thy
 Have but their stings and teeth newly ta’en out,
365 By whose fell working I was first advanced
 And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
 To be again displaced; which to avoid,
 I cut them off and had a purpose now
 To lead out many to the Holy Land,
370 Lest rest and lying still might make them look
 Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
 Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
 With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne
375 May waste the memory of the former days.
 More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
 That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
 How I came by the crown, O God forgive,
 And grant it may with thee in true peace live.
PRINCE 380My gracious liege,
 You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 4. SC. 3

 Then plain and right must my possession be,
 Which I with more than with a common pain
 ’Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

Enter John of Lancaster and others.

385 Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.
 Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father.
 Thou bring’st me happiness and peace, son John,
 But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown
 From this bare withered trunk. Upon thy sight
390 My worldly business makes a period.
 Where is my Lord of Warwick?
PRINCE  My Lord of Warwick.

Enter Warwick.

 Doth any name particular belong
 Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
395 ’Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord.
 Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.
 It hath been prophesied to me many years,
 I should not die but in Jerusalem,
 Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land.
400 But bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie.
 In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.
They exit.

Scene 1
Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph.

SHALLOW By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away
 tonight.—What, Davy, I say!
FALSTAFF You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.
SHALLOW I will not excuse you. You shall not be
5 excused. Excuses shall not be admitted. There is no
 excuse shall serve. You shall not be excused.—
 Why, Davy!

Enter Davy.

DAVY Here, sir.
SHALLOW Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy, let
10 me see, Davy, let me see. Yea, marry, William cook,
 bid him come hither.—Sir John, you shall not be
DAVY Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served.
 And again, sir: shall we sow the hade land with
15 wheat?
SHALLOW With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook,
 are there no young pigeons?
DAVY Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing
 and plow irons.He gives Shallow a paper.
SHALLOW 20Let it be cast and paid.—Sir John, you shall
 not be excused.
DAVY Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 1

 had. And, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s
 wages about the sack he lost the other day at
25 Hinckley Fair?
SHALLOW He shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a
 couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and
 any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.
Shallow and Davy walk aside.
DAVY Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
SHALLOW 30Yea, Davy, I will use him well. A friend i’ th’
 court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men
 well, Davy, for they are arrant knaves and will
DAVY No worse than they are back-bitten, sir, for they
35 have marvelous foul linen.
SHALLOW Well-conceited, Davy. About thy business,
DAVY I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor
 of Woncot against Clement Perkes o’ th’ hill.
SHALLOW 40There is many complaints, Davy, against that
 Visor. That Visor is an arrant knave, on my
DAVY I grant your Worship that he is a knave, sir, but
 yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some
45 countenance at his friend’s request. An honest
 man, sir, is able to speak for himself when a knave is
 not. I have served your Worship truly, sir, this eight
 years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear
 out a knave against an honest man, I have but a
50 very little credit with your Worship. The knave is
 mine honest friend, sir; therefore I beseech you let
 him be countenanced.
SHALLOW Go to, I say, he shall have no wrong. Look
 about, Davy. Davy exits. Where are you, Sir John?
55 Come, come, come, off with your boots.—Give me
 your hand, Master Bardolph.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 1

BARDOLPH I am glad to see your Worship.
SHALLOW I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master
 Bardolph, (to Page) and welcome, my tall
60 fellow.—Come, Sir John.
FALSTAFF I’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
 Shallow exits. Bardolph, look to our horses. Bardolph
 and Page exit. 
If I were sawed into quantities,
 I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits’
65 staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to
 see the semblable coherence of his men’s spirits
 and his. They, by observing of him, do bear
 themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing
 with them, is turned into a justice-like servingman.
70 Their spirits are so married in conjunction with the
 participation of society that they flock together in
 consent like so many wild geese. If I had a suit to
 Master Shallow, I would humor his men with the
 imputation of being near their master; if to his men,
75 I would curry with Master Shallow that no man
 could better command his servants. It is certain
 that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is
 caught, as men take diseases, one of another. Therefore
 let men take heed of their company. I will
80 devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep
 Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out
 of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions,
 and he shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is
 much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a
85 sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the
 ache in his shoulders. O, you shall see him laugh till
 his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up.
SHALLOW, within Sir John.
FALSTAFF I come, Master Shallow, I come, Master
90 Shallow.
He exits.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 2

Scene 2
Enter Warwick and Lord Chief Justice.

 How now, my Lord Chief Justice, whither away?
CHIEF JUSTICE How doth the King?
 Exceeding well. His cares are now all ended.
 I hope, not dead.
WARWICK 5 He’s walked the way of nature,
 And to our purposes he lives no more.
 I would his Majesty had called me with him.
 The service that I truly did his life
 Hath left me open to all injuries.
10 Indeed, I think the young king loves you not.
 I know he doth not, and do arm myself
 To welcome the condition of the time,
 Which cannot look more hideously upon me
 Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.

Enter John, Thomas, and Humphrey.

15 Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry.
 O, that the living Harry had the temper
 Of he the worst of these three gentlemen!
 How many nobles then should hold their places
 That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!
20 O God, I fear all will be overturned.
 Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 2

 We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
 We do remember, but our argument
25 Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
 Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.
 Peace be with us, lest we be heavier.
 O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed,
 And I dare swear you borrow not that face
30 Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own.
JOHN OF LANCASTER, to the Chief Justice 
 Though no man be assured what grace to find,
 You stand in coldest expectation.
 I am the sorrier; would ’twere otherwise.
 Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair,
35 Which swims against your stream of quality.
 Sweet princes, what I did I did in honor,
 Led by th’ impartial conduct of my soul;
 And never shall you see that I will beg
 A ragged and forestalled remission.
40 If truth and upright innocency fail me,
 I’ll to the king my master that is dead
 And tell him who hath sent me after him.

Enter the Prince, as Henry V, and Blunt.

WARWICK Here comes the Prince.
 Good morrow, and God save your Majesty.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 2

45 This new and gorgeous garment majesty
 Sits not so easy on me as you think.—
 Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear.
 This is the English, not the Turkish court;
 Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
50 But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
 For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
 Sorrow so royally in you appears
 That I will deeply put the fashion on
 And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad.
55 But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
 Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
 For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
 I’ll be your father and your brother too.
 Let me but bear your love, I’ll bear your cares.
60 Yet weep that Harry’s dead, and so will I,
 But Harry lives that shall convert those tears
 By number into hours of happiness.
 We hope no otherwise from your Majesty.
 You all look strangely on me. To the Chief Justice.
65 And you most.
 You are, I think, assured I love you not.
 I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
 Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
 No? How might a prince of my great hopes forget
70 So great indignities you laid upon me?
 What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
 Th’ immediate heir of England? Was this easy?
 May this be washed in Lethe and forgotten?
 I then did use the person of your father;

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 2

75 The image of his power lay then in me.
 And in th’ administration of his law,
 Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
 Your Highness pleasèd to forget my place,
 The majesty and power of law and justice,
80 The image of the King whom I presented,
 And struck me in my very seat of judgment,
 Whereon, as an offender to your father,
 I gave bold way to my authority
 And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
85 Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
 To have a son set your decrees at nought?
 To pluck down justice from your awful bench?
 To trip the course of law and blunt the sword
 That guards the peace and safety of your person?
90 Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image
 And mock your workings in a second body?
 Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
 Be now the father and propose a son,
 Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
95 See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
 Behold yourself so by a son disdained,
 And then imagine me taking your part
 And in your power soft silencing your son.
 After this cold considerance, sentence me,
100 And, as you are a king, speak in your state
 What I have done that misbecame my place,
 My person, or my liege’s sovereignty.
 You are right, justice, and you weigh this well.
 Therefore still bear the balance and the sword.
105 And I do wish your honors may increase
 Till you do live to see a son of mine
 Offend you and obey you as I did.
 So shall I live to speak my father’s words:

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 2

 “Happy am I that have a man so bold
110 That dares do justice on my proper son;
 And not less happy, having such a son
 That would deliver up his greatness so
 Into the hands of justice.” You did commit me,
 For which I do commit into your hand
115 Th’ unstainèd sword that you have used to bear,
 With this remembrance: that you use the same
 With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit
 As you have done ’gainst me. There is my hand.
They clasp hands.
 You shall be as a father to my youth,
120 My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear,
 And I will stoop and humble my intents
 To your well-practiced wise directions.—
 And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you:
 My father is gone wild into his grave,
125 For in his tomb lie my affections,
 And with his spirits sadly I survive
 To mock the expectation of the world,
 To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
 Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
130 After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
 Hath proudly flowed in vanity till now.
 Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,
 Where it shall mingle with the state of floods
 And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
135 Now call we our high court of parliament,
 And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel
 That the great body of our state may go
 In equal rank with the best-governed nation;
 That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
140 As things acquainted and familiar to us,
 To the Chief Justice. In which you, father, shall
 have foremost hand.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 3

 Our coronation done, we will accite,
 As I before remembered, all our state.
145 And, God consigning to my good intents,
 No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say
 God shorten Harry’s happy life one day.
They exit.

Scene 3
Enter Sir John Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy,
Bardolph, and Page.

SHALLOW Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an
 arbor, we will eat a last year’s pippin of mine own
 graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth.—
 Come, cousin Silence.—And then to bed.
FALSTAFF 5Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling,
 and a rich.
SHALLOW Barren, barren, barren, beggars all, beggars
 all, Sir John. Marry, good air.—Spread, Davy,
 spread, Davy. Well said, Davy.
FALSTAFF 10This Davy serves you for good uses. He is
 your servingman and your husband.
SHALLOW A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good
 varlet, Sir John. By the Mass, I have drunk too
 much sack at supper. A good varlet. Now sit down,
15 now sit down.—Come, cousin.
SILENCE Ah, sirrah, quoth he, we shall
Sings.  Do nothing but eat and make good cheer,
 And praise God for the merry year,
 When flesh is cheap and females dear,
20 And lusty lads roam here and there
  So merrily,
 And ever among so merrily.

FALSTAFF There’s a merry heart!—Good Master Silence,
 I’ll give you a health for that anon.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 3

SHALLOW 25Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
DAVY, to the guests Sweet sir, sit. I’ll be with you
 anon. Most sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master
 page, sit. Proface. What you want in meat, we’ll
 have in drink, but you must bear. The heart’s all.
He exits.
SHALLOW 30Be merry, Master Bardolph.—And, my little
 soldier there, be merry.
SILENCE sings 
 Be merry, be merry, my wife has all,
 For women are shrews, both short and tall.
 ’Tis merry in hall when beards wags all,
35 And welcome merry Shrovetide.
 Be merry, be merry.

FALSTAFF I did not think Master Silence had been a
 man of this mettle.
SILENCE Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere
40 now.

Enter Davy.

DAVY, to the guests There’s a dish of leather-coats for
DAVY Your Worship, I’ll be with you straight.—A cup
45 of wine, sir.
SILENCE sings 
 A cup of wine that’s brisk and fine,
 And drink unto thee, leman mine,
 And a merry heart lives long-a.

FALSTAFF Well said, Master Silence.
SILENCE 50And we shall be merry; now comes in the
 sweet o’ th’ night.
FALSTAFF Health and long life to you, Master Silence.
SILENCE sings 
 Fill the cup, and let it come,
 I’ll pledge you a mile to th’ bottom.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 3

SHALLOW 55Honest Bardolph, welcome. If thou want’st
 anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.—
 Welcome, my little tiny thief, and welcome indeed
 too. I’ll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the
 cabileros about London.
DAVY 60I hope to see London once ere I die.
BARDOLPH An I might see you there, Davy!
SHALLOW By the Mass, you’ll crack a quart together,
 ha, will you not, Master Bardolph?
BARDOLPH Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
SHALLOW 65By God’s liggens, I thank thee. The knave
 will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. He will not
 out, he. ’Tis true bred!
BARDOLPH And I’ll stick by him, sir.
SHALLOW Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing, be
70 merry. (One knocks at door.) Look who’s at door
 there, ho. Who knocks?Davy exits.
FALSTAFF Why, now you have done me right.
SILENCE sings 
 Do me right,
 And dub me knight,
75 Samingo.

 Is ’t not so?
SILENCE Is ’t so? Why then, say an old man can do

Enter Davy.

DAVY 80An ’t please your Worship, there’s one Pistol
 come from the court with news.
FALSTAFF From the court? Let him come in.

Enter Pistol.

 How now, Pistol?
PISTOL Sir John, God save you.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 3

FALSTAFF 85What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
PISTOL Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.
 Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men
 in this realm.
SILENCE By ’r Lady, I think he be, but Goodman Puff of
90 Barson.
 Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!—
 Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
 And helter-skelter have I rode to thee,
95 And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
 And golden times, and happy news of price.
FALSTAFF I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of
 this world.
 A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
100 I speak of Africa and golden joys.
 O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
 Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
SILENCE sings 
 And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.
 Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons,
105 And shall good news be baffled?
 Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.
SHALLOW Honest gentleman, I know not your
PISTOL Why then, lament therefor.
SHALLOW 110Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with
 news from the court, I take it there’s but two ways,
 either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir,
 under the King in some authority.
 Under which king, besonian? Speak or die.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 3

115 Under King Harry.
PISTOL  Harry the Fourth, or Fifth?
 Harry the Fourth.
PISTOL  A foutre for thine office!—
 Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king.
120 Harry the Fifth’s the man. I speak the truth.
 When Pistol lies, do this and fig me, like
 The bragging Spaniard.Pistol makes a fig.
FALSTAFF  What, is the old king dead?
 As nail in door. The things I speak are just.
FALSTAFF 125Away, Bardolph.—Saddle my horse.—
 Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou
 wilt in the land, ’tis thine.—Pistol, I will double-charge
 thee with dignities.
BARDOLPH O joyful day! I would not take a knight-hood
130 for my fortune.
PISTOL What, I do bring good news!
FALSTAFF Carry Master Silence to bed.—Master Shallow,
 my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt. I am
 Fortune’s steward. Get on thy boots. We’ll ride all
135 night.—O sweet Pistol!—Away, Bardolph!—Come,
 Pistol, utter more to me, and withal devise something
 to do thyself good.—Boot, boot, Master Shallow.
 I know the young king is sick for me. Let us
 take any man’s horses. The laws of England are at
140 my commandment. Blessed are they that have been
 my friends, and woe to my Lord Chief Justice!
 Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
 “Where is the life that late I led?” say they.
 Why, here it is. Welcome these pleasant days.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 4

Scene 4
Enter Hostess Quickly, Doll Tearsheet, and Beadles.

HOSTESS No, thou arrant knave. I would to God that I
 might die, that I might have thee hanged. Thou hast
 drawn my shoulder out of joint.
BEADLE The Constables have delivered her over to me,
5 and she shall have whipping cheer enough, I
 warrant her. There hath been a man or two lately
 killed about her.
DOLL Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie! Come on, I’ll tell
 thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal: an the
10 child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert better
 thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced
HOSTESS O the Lord, that Sir John were come! I would
 make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God
15 the fruit of her womb might miscarry.
BEADLE If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions
 again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you
 both go with me, for the man is dead that you and
 Pistol beat amongst you.
DOLL 20I’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will
 have you as soundly swinged for this, you bluebottle
 rogue, you filthy famished correctioner. If you be
 not swinged, I’ll forswear half-kirtles.
BEADLE Come, come, you she-knight-errant, come.
HOSTESS 25O God, that right should thus overcome
 might! Well, of sufferance comes ease.
DOLL Come, you rogue, come, bring me to a justice.
HOSTESS Ay, come, you starved bloodhound.
DOLL Goodman Death, Goodman Bones!
HOSTESS 30Thou atomy, thou!
DOLL Come, you thin thing, come, you rascal.
BEADLE Very well.
They exit.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 5

Scene 5
Enter two Grooms.

FIRST GROOM More rushes, more rushes.
SECOND GROOM The trumpets have sounded twice.
FIRST GROOM ’Twill be two o’clock ere they come
 from the coronation. Dispatch, dispatch.
Grooms exit.

Trumpets sound, and the King and his train pass over
the stage.
 After them enter Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol,
Bardolph, and the Page.

FALSTAFF 5Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow. I
 will make the King do you grace. I will leer upon
 him as he comes by, and do but mark the countenance
 that he will give me.
PISTOL God bless thy lungs, good knight!
FALSTAFF 10Come here, Pistol, stand behind me.—O, if I
 had had time to have made new liveries, I would
 have bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of
 you. But ’tis no matter. This poor show doth better.
 This doth infer the zeal I had to see him.
SHALLOW 15It doth so.
FALSTAFF It shows my earnestness of affection—
SHALLOW It doth so.
FALSTAFF My devotion—
SHALLOW It doth, it doth, it doth.
FALSTAFF 20As it were, to ride day and night, and not to
 deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience
 to shift me—
SHALLOW It is best, certain.
FALSTAFF But to stand stained with travel and sweating
25 with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else,
 putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there were
 nothing else to be done but to see him.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 5

PISTOL ’Tis semper idem, for obsque hoc nihil est; ’tis
 all in every part.
SHALLOW 30’Tis so indeed.
PISTOL My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, and
 make thee rage. Thy Doll and Helen of thy noble
 thoughts is in base durance and contagious prison,
 haled thither by most mechanical and dirty hand.
35 Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto’s
 snake, for Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth.
FALSTAFF I will deliver her.
Shouts within. The trumpets sound.
 There roared the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds.

Enter the King and his train.

 God save thy Grace, King Hal, my royal Hal.
40 The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal
 imp of fame!
FALSTAFF God save thee, my sweet boy!
 My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man.
CHIEF JUSTICE, to Falstaff 
 Have you your wits? Know you what ’tis you
45 speak?
FALSTAFF, to the King 
 My king, my Jove, I speak to thee, my heart!
 I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.
 How ill white hairs becomes a fool and jester.
 I have long dreamt of such a kind of man,
50 So surfeit-swelled, so old, and so profane;
 But being awaked, I do despise my dream.
 Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 5

 Leave gormandizing. Know the grave doth gape
 For thee thrice wider than for other men.
55 Reply not to me with a fool-born jest.
 Presume not that I am the thing I was,
 For God doth know—so shall the world perceive—
 That I have turned away my former self.
 So will I those that kept me company.
60 When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
 Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
 The tutor and the feeder of my riots.
 Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,
 As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
65 Not to come near our person by ten mile.
 For competence of life I will allow you,
 That lack of means enforce you not to evils.
 And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
 We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
70 Give you advancement. To the Lord Chief Justice.
 Be it your charge, my lord,
 To see performed the tenor of my word.—
 Set on.
King and his train exit.
FALSTAFF Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.
SHALLOW 75Yea, marry, Sir John, which I beseech you to
 let me have home with me.
FALSTAFF That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not
 you grieve at this. I shall be sent for in private to
 him. Look you, he must seem thus to the world.
80 Fear not your advancements. I will be the man yet
 that shall make you great.
SHALLOW I cannot well perceive how, unless you
 should give me your doublet and stuff me out with
 straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me have five
85 hundred of my thousand.
FALSTAFF Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that
 you heard was but a color.

Henry IV, Part 2
ACT 5. SC. 5

SHALLOW A color that I fear you will die in, Sir John.
FALSTAFF Fear no colors. Go with me to dinner.—
90 Come, lieutenant Pistol.—Come, Bardolph.—I
 shall be sent for soon at night.

Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Prince John, with

 Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet.
 Take all his company along with him.
FALSTAFF My lord, my lord —
95 I cannot now speak. I will hear you soon.—
 Take them away.
PISTOL Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.
All but John of Lancaster and
Chief Justice exit.

 I like this fair proceeding of the King’s.
 He hath intent his wonted followers
100 Shall all be very well provided for,
 But all are banished till their conversations
 Appear more wise and modest to the world.
CHIEF JUSTICE And so they are.
 The King hath called his parliament, my lord.
 I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
 We bear our civil swords and native fire
 As far as France. I heard a bird so sing,
 Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the King.
110 Come, will you hence?
They exit.


  First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My
 fear is your displeasure, my curtsy my duty, and my
 speech, to beg your pardons. If you look for a good
 speech now, you undo me, for what I have to say is
5 of mine own making, and what indeed I should say
 will, I doubt, prove mine own marring.
  But to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it
 known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in
 the end of a displeasing play to pray your patience
10 for it and to promise you a better. I meant indeed to
 pay you with this, which, if like an ill venture it
 come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle
 creditors, lose. Here I promised you I would be,
 and here I commit my body to your mercies. Bate
15 me some, and I will pay you some, and, as most
 debtors do, promise you infinitely. And so I kneel
 down before you, but, indeed, to pray for the
  If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me,
20 will you command me to use my legs? And yet that
 were but light payment, to dance out of your debt.
 But a good conscience will make any possible
 satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen
 here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not,
25 then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen,

Henry IV, Part 2

 which was never seen before in such an
  One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too
 much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will
30 continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make
 you merry with fair Katherine of France, where, for
 anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless
 already he be killed with your hard opinions; for
 Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man.
35 My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid
 you good night.