he--Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then--'Neighbour
Quickly,' says he, 'receive those that are civil; for', sayeth 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. 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 he.
You may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He will
not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in
any show of resistance.-- Call him up, drawer.
[Exit First Drawer]
HOSTESS QUICKLY 'Cheater', call you him? I will bar no honest
man my house, nor no cheater, but I do not love swaggering.
I am the worse when one says 'swagger'. Feel, masters, how
I shake. Look you, I warrant you.
DOLL TEARSHEET So you do, hostess.
HOSTESS QUICKLY Do I? Yea, in very truth do I, if it were an aspen
leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.
Enter Pistol, and Bardolph and his Boy
PISTOL 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 I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
FALSTAFF She is Pistol-proof, sir. You shall hardly offend her.
HOSTESS QUICKLY Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets: I will
drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.
PISTOL Then to you, Mistress Dorothy. I will charge you.
DOLL TEARSHEET Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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 TEARSHEET Away, you cutpurse rascal, you filthy bung,
away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps,
if you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale
rascal, you basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray
you, sir? What, with two points on your shoulder? Much!
PISTOL I will murder your ruff for this.
HOSTESS QUICKLY No, Good Captain Pistol. Not here, sweet
captain.
DOLL TEARSHEET Captain? Thou abominable damned cheater,
art thou not ashamed to be called captain? If captains were
of my mind, they would truncheon you out for taking their
names upon you before you have 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?
These villains will make the word 'captain' odious: therefore
captains had need look to it.
BARDOLPH Pray thee go down, good ancient.
To Pistol
FALSTAFF Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
PISTOL Not I. I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could
tear her. I'll be revenged on her.
PAGE Pray thee go down.
To Pistol
PISTOL I'll see her damned first
To Pluto's damned lake,
To the infernal deep,
With Erebus and tortures vile also.
Hold hook and line, say I.
Down, down, dogs! Down, Fates!
Have we not Hiren here?
HOSTESS QUICKLY Good Captain Peesel, be quiet. It is very late. I
beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
PISTOL These be good humours indeed. Shall pack-horses
And hollow pampered jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Caesar and with cannibals,
And Trojan Greeks?
Nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus,
And let the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys?
HOSTESS QUICKLY By my troth, captain, these are very bitter
words.
BARDOLPH Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl
anon.
PISTOL Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins!
Have we not Hiren here?
HOSTESS QUICKLY On my word, captain, there's none such here.
What the goodyear, do you think I would deny her? I pray be
quiet.
PISTOL Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
Come, give me 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.
Lays down his sword
Come we to full points here? And are etceteras
nothing?
FALSTAFF Pistol, I would be quiet.
PISTOL Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What, we have seen
the seven stars!
DOLL TEARSHEET Thrust him downstairs. I cannot endure such a
fustian rascal.
PISTOL 'Thrust him down stairs'? Know we not Galloway
nags?
FALSTAFF Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
shilling. Nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be
nothing here.
BARDOLPH Come, get you downstairs.
PISTOL What? Shall we have incision? Shall we
Snatches up his sword
imbrue?
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days.
Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwined the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
HOSTESS QUICKLY Here's good stuff toward.
FALSTAFF Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL TEARSHEET I prithee, Jack, I prithee do not draw.
FALSTAFF Get you downstairs.
Draws and attacks Pistol
[Exit Pistol, driven out by Bardolph]
HOSTESS QUICKLY Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping
house, before 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.
DOLL TEARSHEET I prithee, Jack, be quiet. The rascal is gone. Ah,
you whoreson little valiant villain, you!
HOSTESS QUICKLY Are you not hurt i'th'groin? Methought he
made a shrewd thrust at your belly.
[Enter Bardolph]
FALSTAFF Have you turned him out of doors?
To Bardolph
BARDOLPH Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir,
in the shoulder.
FALSTAFF A rascal to brave me!
DOLL TEARSHEET Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape,
how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you
whoreson chops. Ah, rogue, 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 A rascally slave, I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
DOLL TEARSHEET Do, if thou dar'st for thy heart. If thou dost, I'll
canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
Enter Musicians
PAGE The music is come, sir.
FALSTAFF Let them play.--Play, sirs.--Sit on my knee, Doll. A
rascal bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like
quicksilver.
DOLL TEARSHEET And thou followed'st him like a church. Thou
whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
leave fighting on days
and foining on nights, and begin to
patch up thine old body for heaven?
Enter the Prince and Poins, disguised
FALSTAFF Peace, good Doll. Do not speak like a death's-head,
do not bid me remember mine end.
DOLL TEARSHEET Sirrah, what humour is the prince of?
FALSTAFF A good shallow young fellow: he would have made a
good pantler, he would have chipped bread well.
DOLL TEARSHEET They say Poins hath a good wit.
FALSTAFF He a good wit? Hang him, baboon! His wit is as thick
as Tewkesbury mustard. There is no more conceit in him
than is in a mallet.
DOLL TEARSHEET Why doth 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, 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 boot very smooth, like unto
the sign of the leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discreet
stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, 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 an
hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois.
PRINCE HENRY Would not this nave of a wheel have
his ears cut off?
Aside to Poins
POINS Let us beat him before his whore.
PRINCE HENRY Look, if the withered elder hath not his poll
clawed like a parrot.
POINS Is it not strange that desire should so many years
outlive performance?
FALSTAFF Kiss me, Doll.
She kisses him
PRINCE HENRY Saturn and Venus this year in
conjunction! What says the almanac to that?
Aside to Poins
POINS And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
lisping to his master's old tables, his notebook, his
counsel-keeper.
FALSTAFF Thou dost give me flatt'ring busses.
To Doll
DOLL TEARSHEET Nay truly, I kiss thee with a most constant
heart.
FALSTAFF I am old, I am old.
DOLL TEARSHEET 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 receive
money on Thursday. Thou shalt have a cap tomorrow. A
merry song, come. It grows late. We will to bed. Thou wilt
forget me when I am gone.
DOLL TEARSHEET Thou wilt set me a-weeping, if thou say'st so.
Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return. Well,
hearken the end.
FALSTAFF Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE HENRY and POINS Anon, anon, sir.
Stepping forward
FALSTAFF Ha? A bastard son of the king's?-- And art not thou
Poins his brother?
PRINCE HENRY Why, 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 HENRY Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the
ears.
HOSTESS QUICKLY O, the lord preserve thy good grace! Welcome
to London. Now, heaven bless that sweet face of thine! What,
are you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this
light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
DOLL TEARSHEET How? You fat fool, I scorn you.
POINS My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and
turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
PRINCE HENRY You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did
you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil
gentlewoman!
HOSTESS QUICKLY Blessing on your good heart, and so she is, by
my troth.
FALSTAFF Didst thou hear me?
To Prince Henry
PRINCE HENRY Yes, 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 No, no, no, not so. I did not think thou wast within
hearing.
PRINCE HENRY I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse,
and then I know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal, on mine honour, no abuse.
PRINCE HENRY Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and
bread-chopper and I know not what?
FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal.
POINS No abuse?
FALSTAFF No abuse, Ned, in the world, honest Ned, none. I
dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not
fall in love with him--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, none.-- No,
boys, none.
PRINCE HENRY 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 the boy of the 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, where he doth
nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy, there is a good
angel about him, but the devil outbids him too.
PRINCE HENRY For the women?
FALSTAFF For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns
poor souls. For the other, I owe her money, and whether she
be damned for that, I know not.
HOSTESS QUICKLY No, I warrant you.
FALSTAFF No, I think thou art not. I think thou art quit for
that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for
suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law,
for the which I think thou wilt howl.
HOSTESS QUICKLY All victuallers do so. What is a joint of mutton
or two in a whole Lent?
PRINCE HENRY You, gentlewoman--
To Doll
DOLL TEARSHEET What says your grace?
FALSTAFF His grace says that which his flesh
rebels against.
Knocking within
HOSTESS QUICKLY Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door
there, Francis.
Enter Peto
PRINCE HENRY Peto, how now? What news?
PETO The king your father is at Westminster,
And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north, and as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
PRINCE HENRY By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
So idly to profane 332 profane i.e. misuse the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.--
Give me my sword and cloak.-- Falstaff, goodnight.
Exeunt [Prince Henry, Poins and Peto]
FALSTAFF Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and
we must hence and leave it unpicked. More knocking at the
door? How now? What's the matter?
> Knocking within
Bardolph goes to the door
BARDOLPH You must away to court, sir, presently.
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
FALSTAFF Pay the musicians, sirrah.-- Farewell,
To the Page
hostess.-- Farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how
men of merit are sought after. 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 TEARSHEET I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to
burst--well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
FALSTAFF Farewell, farewell.
Exeunt [Falstaff, Bardolph and Page]
HOSTESS QUICKLY Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these
twenty-nine years, come peascod-time, but an honester and
truer-hearted man--well, fare thee well.
BARDOLPH Mistress Tearsheet!
Within
HOSTESS QUICKLY What's the matter?
BARDOLPH Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.
Within
HOSTESS QUICKLY O, run, Doll, run. Run, good Doll!
Exeunt
Act 3 Scene 1
running scene 8
Location: the royal court
Enter the King, with a Page
KING HENRY IV Go call the Earls of Surrey and of
Warwick.
Gives letters
But ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them. Make good speed.
Exit [Page]
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
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,
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 sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours in the slipp'ry clouds,
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,
The Oxford Shakespeare: Henry IV, Part 2 (Oxford World's Classics) Page 7
