Henry IV, Part 1

by William Shakespeare

  a hair; and I’ll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are

  a woman, go.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Who, I? I defy thee. I was never called so in

  mine own house before.

  FALSTAFF Go to, I know you well enough.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John. I

  know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John, and now

  you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen

  of shirts to your back.

  FALSTAFF Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to

  bakers’ wives, and they have made bolters of them.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight

  shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for

  your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and

  twenty pounds.

  FALSTAFF He had his part of it, let him pay.

  Points to Bardolph

  HOSTESS QUICKLY He? Alas, he is poor, he hath nothing.

  FALSTAFF How? Poor? Look upon his face. What call you rich?

  Let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks. I’ll not pay

  a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? Shall I not

  take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked?

  I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather’s worth forty mark.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY I have heard the prince tell him, I know not

  how oft, that that ring was copper!

  FALSTAFF How? The prince is a jack, a sneak-cup. An if he

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

  Enter the Prince marching [with Peto], and Falstaff meets him playing

  on his truncheon like a fife

  How now, lad? Is the wind in that door? Must we all march?

  BARDOLPH Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY My lord, I pray you hear me.

  PRINCE HENRY What say’st thou, Mistress Quickly? How does

  thy husband? I love him well. He is an honest man.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Good my lord, hear me.

  FALSTAFF Prithee let her alone, and list to me.

  PRINCE HENRY What say’st thou, Jack?

  FALSTAFF The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras

  and had my pocket picked. This house is turned bawdy-

  house: they pick pockets.

  PRINCE HENRY What didst thou lose, Jack?

  FALSTAFF Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four bonds of

  forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather’s?

  PRINCE HENRY A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your

  grace say so. And, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like

  a foul-mouthed man as he is, and said he would cudgel you.

  PRINCE HENRY What? He did not?

  HOSTESS QUICKLY There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood

  in me else.

  FALSTAFF There’s no more faith in thee than a stewed prune,

  nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox. And for

  womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the

  ward to thee. Go, you nothing, go.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Say, what thing? What thing?

  FALSTAFF What thing? Why, a thing to thank heaven on.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY I am no thing to thank heaven on, I would

  thou shouldst know it. I am an honest man’s wife, and,

  setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

  FALSTAFF Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to

  say otherwise.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

  FALSTAFF What beast? Why, an otter.

  PRINCE HENRY An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?

  FALSTAFF Why? She’s neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not

  where to have her.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or

  any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!

  PRINCE HENRY Thou say’st true, hostess, and he slanders thee

  most grossly.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY So he doth you, my lord, and said this other

  day you owed him a thousand pound.

  PRINCE HENRY Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

  FALSTAFF A thousand pound, Hal? A million. Thy love is

  worth a million: thou ow’st me thy love.

  HOSTESS QUICKLY Nay, my lord, he called you Jack,

  and said he would cudgel you.

  FALSTAFF Did I, Bardolph?

  BARDOLPH Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

  FALSTAFF Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

  PRINCE HENRY I say ’tis copper. Dar’st thou be as good as thy

  word now?

  FALSTAFF Why, Hal, thou know’st, as thou art but a man, I

  dare, but as thou art a prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring

  of the lion’s whelp.

  PRINCE HENRY And why not as the lion?

  FALSTAFF The king himself is to be feared as the lion: dost

  thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, if I do, let my

  girdle break.

  PRINCE HENRY O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy

  knees! But, sirrah, there’s no room for faith, truth, nor

  honesty in this bosom of thine: it is all filled up with guts and

  midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket?

  Why, thou whoreson, impudent, embossed rascal, if there

  were anything in thy pocket but tavern-reck’nings,

  memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-

  worth of sugar-candy to make thee long-winded: if thy

  pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am

  a villain. And yet you will stand to it, you will not pocket up

  wrong. Art thou not ashamed?

  FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou know’st in the state of

  innocency Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Falstaff do

  in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than

  another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then,

  you picked my pocket?

  PRINCE HENRY It appears so by the story.

  FALSTAFF Hostess, I forgive thee. Go, make ready breakfast,

  love thy husband, look to thy servants and cherish thy guests.

  Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest

  I am pacified still. Nay, prithee be gone.—

  Exit Hostess

  Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad, how is

  that answered?

  PRINCE HENRY O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to

  thee. The money is paid back again.

  FALSTAFF O, I do not like that paying back, ’tis a double labour.

  PRINCE HENRY I am good friends with my father and may do

  anything.

  FALSTAFF Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and

  do it with unwashed hands too.

  BARDOLPH Do, my lord.

  PRINCE HENRY I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

  FALSTAFF I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one

  that can steal well? O, for a fine thief, of two-and-twenty or

  thereabout! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be

  thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous. I

  laud them, I praise them.

  PRINCE HENRY Bardolph.

  BARDOLPH My lord?

  PRINCE HENRY Go bear this letter to Lord John of

  Lancaster,

  Gives letters

  To my brother John. This to my lord of Westmorland.—

  [Exit Bardolph]

  Go, Peto, to horse, for thou and I

  Have t
hirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.—

  [Exit Peto]

  Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple hall

  At two o’clock in the afternoon.

  There shalt thou know thy charge and there receive

  Money and order for their furniture.

  The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

  And either they or we must lower lie.

  [Exit Prince Henry]

  FALSTAFF Rare words! Brave world! Hostess, my breakfast,

  come!

  O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!

  Exit

  Act 4 Scene 1

  running scene 11

  Location: the rebel camp near Shrewsbury

  Enter Harry Hotspur, Worcester and Douglas

  HOTSPUR Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth

  In this fine age were not thought flattery,

  Such attribution should the Douglas have,

  As not a soldier of this season’s stamp

  Should go so general current through the world.

  By heaven, I cannot flatter: I defy

  The tongues of soothers. But a braver place

  In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself.

  Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

  DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour:

  No man so potent breathes upon the ground

  But I will beard him.

  Enter a Messenger

  With letters

  HOTSPUR Do so, and ’tis well.—

  What letters hast there? — I can but thank you.

  MESSENGER These letters come from your father.

  HOTSPUR Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?

  MESSENGER He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.

  HOTSPUR How? Has he the leisure to be sick now

  In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

  Under whose government come they along?

  MESSENGER His letters bears his mind, not I his mind.

  WORCESTER I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

  MESSENGER He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth,

  And at the time of my departure thence

  He was much feared by his physician.

  WORCESTER I would the state of time had first been whole

  Ere he by sickness had been visited:

  His health was never better worth than now.

  HOTSPUR Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

  The very life-blood of our enterprise,

  ’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

  He writes me here that inward sickness —

  And that his friends by deputation could not

  So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet

  To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

  On any soul removed but on his own.

  Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,

  That with our small conjunction we should on,

  To see how fortune is disposed to us,

  For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

  Because the king is certainly possessed

  Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

  WORCESTER Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.

  HOTSPUR A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off:

  And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

  Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

  To set the exact wealth of all our states

  All at one cast? To set so rich a main

  On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

  It were not good, for therein should we read

  The very bottom and the soul of hope,

  The very list, the very utmost bound

  Of all our fortunes.

  DOUGLAS ’Faith, and so we should,

  Where now remains a sweet reversion,

  We may boldly spend upon the hope of what

  Is to come in.

  A comfort of retirement lives in this.

  HOTSPUR A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

  If that the devil and mischance look big

  Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

  WORCESTER But yet I would your father had been here.

  The quality and hair of our attempt

  Brooks no division: it will be thought

  By some, that know not why he is away,

  That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike

  Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence.

  And think how such an apprehension

  May turn the tide of fearful faction

  And breed a kind of question in our cause,

  For well you know, we of the off’ring side

  Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,

  And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

  The eye of reason may pry in upon us:

  This absence of your father draws a curtain,

  That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

  Before not dreamt of.

  HOTSPUR You strain too far.

  I rather of his absence make this use:

  It lends a lustre and more great opinion,

  A larger dare to our great enterprise,

  Than if the earl were here, for men must think,

  If we without his help can make a head

  To push against the kingdom, with his help

  We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.

  Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

  DOUGLAS As heart can think. There is not such a word

  Spoke of in Scotland as this dream of fear.

  Enter Sir Richard Vernon

  HOTSPUR My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.

  VERNON Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.

  The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

  Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John.

  HOTSPUR No harm: what more?

  VERNON And further, I have learned,

  The king himself in person hath set forth,

  Or hitherwards intended speedily,

  With strong and mighty preparation.

  HOTSPUR He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

  The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

  And his comrades that daffed the world aside

  And bid it pass?

  VERNON All furnished, all in arms,

  All plumed like estridges that with the wind

  Bated like eagles having lately bathed,

  Glittering in golden coats like images,

  As full of spirit as the month of May,

  And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer,

  Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

  I saw young Harry with his beaver on,

  His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,

  Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,

  And vaulted with such ease into his seat,

  As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,

  To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus

  And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

  HOTSPUR No more, no more. Worse than the sun in March,

  This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come.

  They come like sacrifices in their trim,

  And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war

  All hot and bleeding will we offer them:

  The mailèd Mars shall on his altar sit

  Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

  To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh

  And yet not ours. Come, let me take my horse,

  Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

  Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.

  Harry to Harry, shall hot horse to horse

  Meet and ne’er part till one drop down a corpse!

  O, that Glendower were come!

  VERNON There is more news:

  I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,

  He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

  DOUGLAS That’s the
worst tidings that I hear of yet.

  WORCESTER Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

  HOTSPUR What may the king’s whole battle reach unto?

  VERNON To thirty thousand.

  HOTSPUR Forty let it be.

  My father and Glendower being both away,

  The powers of us may serve so great a day.

  Come, let us take a muster speedily:

  Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.

  DOUGLAS Talk not of dying. I am out of fear

  Of death or death’s hand for this one-half year.

  Exeunt

  Act 4 Scene 2

  running scene 12

  Location: the road (they are traveling, probably along the Roman road Watling Street from London to Shrewsbury via Coventry, a Midlands town near Stratford-upon-Avon)

  Enter Falstaff and Bardolph

  FALSTAFF Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry. Fill me a

  bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march through, we’ll to

  Sutton Coldfield tonight.

  BARDOLPH Will you give me money, captain?

  FALSTAFF Lay out, lay out.

  BARDOLPH This bottle makes an angel.

  FALSTAFF An if it do, take it for thy labour. And if it make

  twenty, take them all, I’ll answer the coinage. Bid my

  lieutenant Peto meet me at the town’s end.

  BARDOLPH I will, captain. Farewell.

  Exit

  FALSTAFF If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused

  gurnet. I have misused the king’s press damnably. I have got,

  in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred

  and odd pounds. I press me none but good householders,

  yeoman’s sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors, such

  as had been asked twice on the banns, such a commodity

  of warm slaves as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum;

  such as fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck fowl

  or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me none but such toasts-and-butter,

  with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins’

  heads, and they have bought out their services. And now my

  whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants,

  gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the

  painted cloth, where the glutton’s dogs licked his sores; and

  such as indeed were never soldiers, but discarded unjust

  servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted

  tapsters and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world