« PreviousContinue »
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald.
K. Henry. Here is a dear and true industrious friend,
Weft. In faith, a conquest for a Prince to boast of.
Lord Northumberland Should be the father of fo bleft a son; A son, who is the theam of honour's tongue, Amongst a grove the very streightest plant, Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride ; Whils I, by looking on the praife of him, See riot and dishonour stain the brow Of my young Harry. O could it be provid, That some night tripping Fairy had exchang’d, In cradle-cloaths, our children where they lay, And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet ; Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. But let him from my thoughts. What think you, cousin, Of this young Percy's pride ? the prisoners, Which he in this adventure hath surpriz'd,
To his own use he keeps, and fende me word
Weft. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester,
K. Henry. But I have sent for him to answer this ;
P. Henry. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbutioning thee after supper, and Heeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand that truly, which thou would'It truly know. What a devil haft thou to do with the time of the day unless hours were cups of fack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the figns of leaping-houses, and the blessed Sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taf. fata ; I see no reason why thou should be so fuperfluous, to demand the time of the day.
Fal. Indeed you come near me now, Hal. For we that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phoebus, be, that wandring knight so fair. And I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art King -- as God save thy Grace, (Majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none.)
P. Henry. What! none ?
Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.
P. Henry. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.
Fal. Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art King, lec not us that are squires of the night's body, be call'd thieves
of the day's booty. Let us be Diana's forefters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the Moon; and let men say, we be men of good government, being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chalte mistress the Moon, under whose
- Steal. P. Henry. Thou say ft well, and it holds well too ; for the fortune of us that are the Moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea, being govern'd as the sea is, by the Moon, As for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night, and most diffolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing, lug out ; and spent with crying, bring in: pow in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder ; and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows
Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad : and is not mine hoftess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle *; and is not a buff-jerkin a most sweet robe of dua, rance ?
Fal. How now, how pow, mad wag? what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff-jerkin?
P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my ho. stess of the tavern?
Fal. Well, thou haft callid her to a reckoning many a. time and oft.
P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part ?
P. Henry. Yea and elsewhere, so far as my coin would ftretch, and where it would not I have us'd my credit.
Fal. Yea, and so us’d it, that were it not here apparent, that thou art heir apparent - But I pr’ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows ftanding in England when thou art King ? and resolution thus fobb’d as it is, with the rusty. curb of old father antick, the law? Do not thou, when thou art a King, hang a thief.
P. Henry. No; thou shalt,
This is a proof that the name of Sir Jon Oldcaple stood first under this character of Faliaff.
P. Henry. Thou judgeft falfe already ; I mean thou fhalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare bangman.
Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell you. P. Henry. For obtaining of fuits ?
Fal. Yea, for obtaining of 'fuits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. "Sblood I am as melancholy as a gib-cat, or a logg'd bear.
P. Henry. Or an old Lion, or a lover's lute.
P. Henry. What fay's thou to a Hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch
Fal. Thou hast the moft unfavoury similes, and art in deed the most incomparative, rascallieft, fweet young Prince
- But, Hal, I pr’ythee trouble me no more with vanity; I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought : an old Lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, Sir ; but I mark'd him not, and yet he talk'divery wisely, and in the Atreet too.
P. Henry. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the freet, and no man regards it.
Fal. O, thou haft damnable attraction, and art indeed able to corrupt a faint. Thou haft done much harm unto me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing ; and now I am, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over, by the Lord ; an I do not, I am a villains. I'll be damn'd for never a King's fon io christendom.
P. Henry. Where fhalt we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, r'll make one; an I do mot, call me villain, and baffle me.
P. Henry. I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking.
Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no fin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins !
SCENE III. Enter Poins.
men were to be saved by merít, what hole in hell were for enough for him? this is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cry'd, Aand, to a trné man.
P, Henry. Good morrow, Ned.
Poins. Good morrow, Sweet Hal. What says Monfieur remarfe? what says Sir Fobni fack and sugar ? Fack! how agree the devil and thou about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday laft, for a cup of Madera, and a cold capon's leg?
P. Henry. Sir Jobn stands to his word, the devil thali have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of ptoverbs ; He will give the devil bis due.
Poins. Then art thou dama'd for keeping thy word with the devil.
P. Henry. Elle he had been damn'a for cozening the devil.
Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four a clock early at Gads-bill, there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to Lone done with fat purses. I have vizards for you all ; you have horses for your selves : Gads-bill lyes to-night in Rochester, I have bespoke fupper to-morrow in East-cheop; we may do it as fecure as sleep: if you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns ; if you will not, tarry at home and be hang d.
Fal. Hear ye, Yedward, if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going.
Poirs. You will, chops ?
Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee; thou can't not of the blood-royal, if thou dar' A not cry, stand, for ten shillings.
P. Henry. Well then, once in my days I'll be a mad-capi
P. Henry. I care not.