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And in the closing of fome glorious day, ***
Be bold to tell you, that I am your son;
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favour in a bloody mask,
Which, walh'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hot-fpur, this all-praised Knight,
And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet.
For every honour sitting on his helm,
'Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled ! for the time will come,
That # shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.'
Percy is but my factor,' good my Lord,
T'ingrofs up glorious deeds on my behalf:
And I will call him to fo strict account,
That he thall render every glory up,
Yea, even the flightelt worthip of his time,
Or I will tear the reck’ning from his heart.
This in the name of heav'n I promise here:
The which, if ( perform, and do survive,
I do beseech your Majesty, may salve
The long grown wounds of my intemperature:
If not, the end of life cancels all bonds ;
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths,
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
bk. Henryí hundred thousand rebels die in this !
Thou shale have charge, and fovereign trust herein.

Enter Blunt.
How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.

Blunt. So is the business that I come to speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath fent word, That Douglas and the Englith rebels met Th' eleventh of this month, at Shrewsbury. A mighty and a fearful head they are,

10.1 If promises be kept on every hand, Astever offer'd foul play in a state.

'K. Henry. The Earl of Weitmorland set forth to-day, With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; For this advertisement is five days old. ! VOL. IV. R



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On Wednesday next, Harry, thou shalt set forward.'
On Thursday, we ourselves will march : our meeting
Is at Bridgnorth ; and, Harry, you shall march
Thro'Glo'stershire: by which, fome twelve days hence,
Our general forces at Bridgnorth fhall meet.
Our hands are full of business : let's away,
Advantage feeds them fat, while we delay. [Exeunt.

Changes to the Boar's head tavern in East-cheap.

Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. Fal. Bardelph, am not I fall'n away vilely, fince this last action? Do I not ’batę? do I not dwindle ? why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown. I am wither'd like an old apple, John. Well, M'll res pent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An' I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse; the inside of a church ! company, villanous company hath been the spoil of me.

Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. :

Fal. Why, there is it; come, fing me a bawdy song, to make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be ; virtuous enough ; swore little; diced not above seven times a-week; went to a bawdyhouse not above once in a quarter of an hour; paid money that I borrow'd, three or four times; liv'd well, and in good compass; and now I live out of all order, out of all compass.

Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you muit needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.

Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lanthorn in the poop, but ’tis in the nose of thee; thou art the knight of the burning lamp.

Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.

Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it, as many a man doth of a death's head, or a Memento mori.


I never fee thy face, but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that liv'd in purple ; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning.---If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be By this fire: but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of ut-, ter darkness. When thou rann'st up Gads-hill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou had'st been an ignis fatuus, or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O thou art a perpetual triumplt, an everlasting bonfire-light; thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern; but the fack that thout hait drunk me, would have bought me lights a's good cheap, at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintain'd that Salamander of your's with fire, any time this two and thirty years, heav'n reward me for it ! Bard. 'Sblood, I would my

face were in your belly, Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heartburn'd.

Enter Hoftefs. How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you inquir'd yet who pick'd my pocket?

Hoft. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John ? do you think I keep thieves in


house? I have search’d, I have inquir'd, fo has my husband, man bý man, boy by boy, feryant by fervant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.

Fal. Ye lye, hoftefs; Bardolph was shav'd, and loft many a hair; and I'll be sworn, my pocket was pick'd; go to, you are a woman, go.

Hoft. Who I? I defy thee; I was never callid fo in mine own house before.

Fal. Go to; I know you well enough.

Hoft. No, Sir John: you do not know me, Sir Jolin, 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 thirts to your back.

Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas, I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made boulters of them.

Hoft. Now, as I am a true woman, Holland of eight Anillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John,


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for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money-lent you, four and twenty pounds.

Fal. Hed ka his part of it, let him pay.
Hoft. He ? alas ! he is poor, 'he hath nothing.

Fal. How, poor? look upon his face: what call you rich ? let him coin his nose, let him 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 fhall have my pocket pick’d? I have lost a feal-ring of my grandfather's, worth forty mark.

Hoft. O Jesu! I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that the ring was copper.

Fal. How? the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-up; and if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so.

S C Ε Ν Ε VI. Enter Prince Henry marching, and Peto playing on his

truncheon like a fife. Falstaff meets them. Fal. How now, lad? is the wind in that door? muft we all march?

Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion.
Hoft. My Lord, I pray you, hear me.

P. Henry. What fay't thou, Mistress Quickly; how does thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest man,

Hoft. Good my Lord, hear me.
Fal. Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me.
P. Henry. What fay'st thou, Jack?

Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket pick’d. This house is turn'd bawdy-house, they pick pockets.

P. Henry. What didit thou lose, Jack ?

Fal. Wilt thou believe ine, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pounds a piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.

P. Henry. A trifle, fome eight-penny matter.

Hoft. So I told him, my Lord; and I said, I heard your Grace fay fo; and, my Lord, he speaks most vilely of

you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is; and said, he would cudgel you.

P. Henry. What! Le did not?

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Hoft. There's neither faith, truth, nor-womanhood in me else.

Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd prune ; no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox *

; and for womanhood, maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go,

Hoft. Say, what thing? what thing?
Fal. What-thing? why, a thing to thank God on.

Hoft. I am nothing to thank God on, I would thou fhould'st know it: I am an honest man's wife; and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a kuave to call me fo.

Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

Hoft. Say, what beast ? thou knave, thou.
Fal. What beast why, an otter.
P. Henry. An otter, Sir John, why an otter?

Fal. Why? The's neither fish nor fleih; a man knows not where to have her.

* Hoft. Thou art an unjust man in saying fo: thou, or any man knows where to have me; thou knave, thou !

P. Henry. Thou say'st true, Hostess, and he flanders thee molt grossly.

Hoft. So he doth you, my Lord, and said this other day, you ow'd him a thousand pound.

P. Henry. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal ? a million; thy love is worth a million : thou ow'st me thy love.

Hoft. Nay, my Lord, he call'd you Jack, and said, he would cudgel you.

Fal. Did 1, Bardolph?
Bar. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

Fal. Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
L Pi Henry. I say, 'tis copper. Dar'it thou be as good
as thy word now?

Fal. 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.

P. Henry. And why not as the lion ?
Fal. The King himself is to be fear'd as the lion ;

* A fox that hath been often hunted,


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