Hotspur
All studies here I solemnly defy,
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,
But that I think his father loves him not
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I would have him poison’d with a pot of ale.
Earl Of Worcester
Farewell, kinsman: I’ll talk to you
When you are better temper’d to attend.
Northumberland
Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
Art thou to break into this woman’s mood,
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
Hotspur
Why, look you, I am whipp’d and scourged with rods,
Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard’s time,— what do you call the place?—
A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;
’Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
His uncle York; where I first bow’d my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,—
’sblood!—
When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
Northumberland
At Berkley castle.
Hotspur
You say true:
Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look, “when his infant fortune came to age,”
And “gentle Harry Percy,” and “kind cousin;”
O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!
Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.
Earl Of Worcester
Nay, if you have not, to it again;
We will stay your leisure.
Hotspur
I have done, i’ faith.
Earl Of Worcester
Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas’ son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assured,
Will easily be granted. You, my lord,
To Northumberland
Your son in Scotland being thus employ’d,
Shall secretly into the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.
Hotspur
Of York, is it not?
Earl Of Worcester
True; who bears hard
His brother’s death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
I speak not this in estimation,
As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
Hotspur
I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.
Northumberland
Before the game is afoot, thou still let’st slip.
Hotspur
Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
And then the power of Scotland and of York,
To join with Mortimer, ha?
Earl Of Worcester
And so they shall.
Hotspur
In faith, it is exceedingly well aim’d.
Earl Of Worcester
And ’tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head;
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king will always think him in our debt,
And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home:
And see already how he doth begin
To make us strangers to his looks of love.
Hotspur
He does, he does: we’ll be revenged on him.
Earl Of Worcester
Cousin, farewell: no further go in this
Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
I’ll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;
Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
Northumberland
Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.
Hotspur
Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short
Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!
Exeunt
ACT II
SCENE I. ROCHESTER. AN INN YARD.
Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand
First Carrier
Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I’ll be hanged: Charles’ wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!
Ostler
[Within] Anon, anon.
First Carrier
I prithee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle, put a few flocks in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out of all cess.
Enter another Carrier
Second Carrier
Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.
First Carrier
Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him.
Second Carrier
I think this be the most villanous house in all
London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.
First Carrier
Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne’er a king christen could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.
Second Carrier
Why, they will allow us ne’er a jordan, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach.
First Carrier
What, ostler! come away and be hanged!
Second Carrier
I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.
First Carrier
God’s body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An ’twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! hast thou no faith in thee?
Enter Gadshill
Gadshill
Good morrow, carriers. What’s o’clock?
First Carrier
I think it be two o’clock.
Gadshill
I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.
First Carrier
Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i’ faith.
Gadshill
I pray thee, lend me thine.
Second Carrier
Ay, when? can’st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth he? marry, I’ll see thee hanged first.
Gadshill
Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
Second Carrier
Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we’ll call up the gentleman: they will along with company, for they have great charge.
Exeunt carriers
Gadshill
What, ho! chamberlain!
Chamberlain
[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse.
Gadshill
That’s even as fair as — at hand, quoth the chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; thou layest the plot how.
Enter Chamberlain
Chamberlain
Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that I told you yesternight: there’s a franklin in the wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold: I heard him
tell it to one of his company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; they will away presently.
Gadshill
Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas’ clerks, I’ll give thee this neck.
Chamberlain
No, I’ll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.
Gadshill
What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, I’ll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are content to do the profession some grace; that would, if matters should be looked into, for their own credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.
Chamberlain
What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold out water in foul way?
Gadshill
She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.
Chamberlain
Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.
Gadshill
Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true man.
Chamberlain
Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
Gadshill
Go to; “homo” is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.
Exeunt
SCENE II. THE HIGHWAY, NEAR GADSHILL.
Enter Prince Henry and Poins
Poins
Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff’s horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
Prince Henry
Stand close.
Enter Falstaff
Falstaff
Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
Prince Henry
Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost thou keep!
Falstaff
Where’s Poins, Hal?
Prince Henry
He is walked up to the top of the hill: I’ll go seek him.
Falstaff
I am accursed to rob in that thief’s company: the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I ’scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the rogue’s company. If the rascal hath not given me medicines to make me love him, I’ll be hanged; it could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! I’ll starve ere I’ll rob a foot further. An ’twere not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
They whistle
Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!
Prince Henry
Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.
Falstaff
Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? ’sblood, I’ll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again for all the coin in thy father’s exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?
Prince Henry
Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
Falstaff
I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king’s son.
Prince Henry
Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?
Falstaff
Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I be ta’en, I’ll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.
Enter Gadshill, Bardolph and Peto
Gadshill
Stand.
Falstaff
So I do, against my will.
Poins
O, ’tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, what news?
Bardolph
Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there ’s money of the king’s coming down the hill; ’tis going to the king’s exchequer.
Falstaff
You lie, ye rogue; ’tis going to the king’s tavern.
Gadshill
There’s enough to make us all.
Falstaff
To be hanged.
Prince Henry
Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they ’scape from your encounter, then they light on us.
Peto
How many be there of them?
Gadshill
Some eight or ten.
Falstaff
’Zounds, will they not rob us?
Prince Henry
What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
Falstaff
Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal.
Prince Henry
Well, we leave that to the proof.
Poins
Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.
Falstaff
Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.
Prince Henry
Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins
Here, hard by: stand close.
Exeunt Prince Henry and Poins
Falstaff
Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: every man to his business.
Enter the Travellers
First Traveller
Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down the hill; we’ll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.
Thieves
Stand!
Travellers
Jesus bless us!
Falstaff
Strike; down with them; cut the villains’ throats: ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.
Travellers
O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
Falstaff
Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we’ll jure ye, ’faith.
Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt
Re-enter Prince Henry and Poins
Prince Henry
The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month and a good jest for ever.
Poins
Stand close; I hear them coming.
Enter the Thieves again
Falstaff
Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there’s no equity stirring: there’s no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck.
Prince Henry
Your money!
Poins
Villains!
As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run a
way; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them
Prince Henry
Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are all scatter’d and possess’d with fear
So strongly that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Were ’t not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins
How the rogue roar’d!
Exeunt
SCENE III. WARKWORTH CASTLE
Enter Hotspur, solus, reading a letter
Hotspur
“But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.” He could be contented: why is he not, then? In respect of the love he bears our house: he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. “The purpose you undertake is dangerous;”— why, that’s certain: ’tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. “The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition.” Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the general course of action. ’Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady’s fan. Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are they not some of them set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set forward to-night.
Enter Lady Percy
How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.
Lady Percy
O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish’d woman from my Harry’s bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is’t that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep?
Complete Plays, The Page 168
