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Fali Shall I? content. This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.

P. Henry. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful bald crown.

Fal. Well, an' the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved: -Give me a cup of fack to inake mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in paflion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein *

P. Henry. Well, here is my leg.
Fal. And here is my speech-Stand aside, nobility-
Haji. This is excellent sport, i'faith:
Fal.Weep not, fweet Queen, for trickling tears are vaisto
Hoft. O the father! how he holds his countenance?

Fal. For God's fake, Lords, convey ny triftful Queen, For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes:

Hoft. O rare, he doth it as like one of thofe harlotrše players as I ever fee.

Fal.Peace; good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain “ Harry, I do not only marvel, where thou spendest thy + time; but also, how thou art accompany'd : for * thougħ the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the “faster it grows; yet youth, the more it is wasted, the i sooner it wears. Thou art my son; I have partly thy "mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly

a villanous trick of the eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lieth the point; why, being son to

me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed fun of ? heaven prove a michier t, and eat black-berries? a

question not to be ask'd. Shall the fon of England prove a thief and take purses? a question to be alk’d. "There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard « of, and it is known to many in our land by the name

of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth . defile; fo doth the company thou keep'it; for, Harry,

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* A bombast play of that time, intitled, “ A lamentable trager y, "mixed.tull of pleafant mirih, containing lhe lite of Cambifes King bi of Peicia. By Thomas Prefion

i, r, truant. To mich,"is to luik out of sight, a hedge-creeper:

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“ now do I not speak to thee in drink, but in tears, • not in pleasure, but in paflion; not in words only, but in woes also ; and yet there is a virtuous man, • whom I have often noted in thy company, but I • know not his name.

P. Henry. What manner of man an' it like your Majesty ?

Fal.' A gondly portly man i'faith, and a corpulent; pe of a chearful look, a pleasing eye, and a molt noble * carriage; and, as I think, his age fome fifty, or,

by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now, I re' member me his name is Falstaff. If that man should to be slewdly given, he deceives me; for, Harry, I see : virtue in his looks. If then the fruit may be knowi

by the tree, as the tree by the fruit, then peremptorily - I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff; him keep ! with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty i varlet, tell me, where thou hast been this month?

P. Henry. Dost thou fpeak like a King ? do thod stand for me, and I'll play my father.

Fal. Depose me!-If thou dost it half fo gravely, fo majestically both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbet-fucker, or a poulterer's hare *

P. Henry. Well, here I am set.
Fal. And here I stand ; judge, my masters.
P. Henry. Now, Harry, whence come you?
Fal. My Noble Lord, from East-cheap.

P. Henry. The complaints I hear.of.thee are grieVous.

Fal. 'Sblood, my Lord, they are false. ----Nay, I'll tickle you for a young prince, i P. Henry. Sweareft thou, ungracious boy? hence" forth ne'er look on me; thou art violently carried a

way from grace ; there's a devil haunts thee in the • likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy com

panion. Why doit thou converse with that trunk of • humours, that boulting hutch of beastliness, that 'fwoln parcel of dropfies, that huge bombard of fack, that ftuff'd cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly,that reverend vice, * Meaning a painted bare, shaped on a board used by poulterers for a fign. P 2


" that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that'vanity in ' years? Wherein is he good, but to taste fack and • drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a 'capon and eat it? wherein cunning but in craft?

wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, • but in all things ? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

Fal. I would your Grace vould take me with you: whom means your Grace?

P. Henry. That villanous abominable mifleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Sathan.

Fal. My Lord, the man I know.
P. Henry. I know thou dost.

Fal. . But to say, I know more harm in him than in “ myself, were to say more than I know. That he is : old, the more is the pity, his white hairs do witness «it ; but that he is (saving your reverence) a whore. ! master, that I utterly deny. If fack and sugar be a * fault, God help the wicked ! if to be old and merry

be a fin, then many an old host that I know, is ! damn d: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's « lean kine are to be lov’d. No, my good Lord, baa !nish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins; but for

sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff true Jack * Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore, more ' valiant, being as he is, old Jack Falstaff; banish

not him thy Harry's company : banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. P. Henry. I do, I will.

[Knocking; and Hostess goes out.

Enter Bardolph running. Bard. O, my Lord, my Lord, the fheriff, with a most monstrous watch, is at the door.

Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to fay in behalf of that Falstaff.

Re-enter the Hostessa Host. O,

my Lord, my Lord ! Fal. Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fidles stick : what's the matter?

Hoft. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house: shall I let thein in ?



Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal ? never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, without seeming fo.

P. Henry. And thou a natural coward, without instinct.

Fal. I deny your major ; if you will deny the sheriff, fo; if not, let him enter. If I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up; I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another

P. Henry. Go, hide thee behind the arras, the rest walk up above. Now, my matters, for a tņue face and good conscience.

Fal. Both which I have had ; but their date is out, and therefore I'll hide me.

[Exeunt Falstaff, Bardolph, &c. P. Henry. Call in the Sheriff.

SCENE XII. Enter Sheriff and Carrier. Now, Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?

Sher. First, pardon me, my Lord. A hue and cry Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.

P. Henry. What men ?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious Lord, A gross fat man.

Car. As fat as butter.

P. Henry. The man I do assure you is not here,
For I myself at this time have employ'd him;
And, sheriff, I engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charged withal :
And so let me intreat you leave the house.

Sher. I will, my Lord : there are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.

P. Henry. It may be fo; if he have robb’d these men,
He shall be answerable ; and so farewell.

Sher. Good night, my noble Lord.
P. Henry, I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Sher. Indeed, my Lord, I think is be two o'clock,

[Ex. Sherif and Carrier.

P. Henry:


P. Henry. This oily rascal is known as well as Pauls: go call him forth.

Peto. Falstaff -fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse.

P. Henry. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: search his pockets.

[He searches his pockets, and finds certain papers. What hait thou found ?

Peto. Nothing but papers, my Lord. P. Henry. Let's see, what be they? read them.Peto. liem, a capon, 25. 2 d. Item, Sauce, 4d. Item, Sack, two gallons, 5 s. 8 d. Item; Anchoves and fack after supper, 2 s. 6d. iten, Bread, a halfpenny. P. Henry! O monstrous! but one half-penny worth of bread to this intolerable deal of fack? What there is else, keep close, we'll read it at more advantage; there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning: we must alty to the wars, and thy place Thall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot, and I know his death will be a march of twelvescore *. The money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Peto.

Peto. Good morrow, good my Lord, : [Exeunt.


The Archdeacon of Bangor's house in Wales.
Enter Hot-spur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, and

Owen Glendower.
Mort. T Hese promises are fair, the parties fure,

And our induction full of prosp'rous hope,
Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down?
And, uncle Worcester ---a plague upon it !
I have forgot the map.
Glend. No, here it is ;
* 2.6. It will kill him to march so far as twelveicore foot.

Mr. Pope.

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