Complete Plays, The (210 page)

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,
To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
Without corrival, all her dignities:
But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

Earl Of Worcester

He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend.
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.

Hotspur

I cry you mercy.

Earl Of Worcester

 
Those same noble Scots
That are your prisoners,—

Hotspur

I’ll keep them all;
By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I’ll keep them, by this hand.

Earl Of Worcester

You start away
And lend no ear unto my purposes.
Those prisoners you shall keep.

Hotspur

Nay, I will; that’s flat:
He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I’ll holla “Mortimer!”
Nay,
I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak
Nothing but “Mortimer,” and give it him
To keep his anger still in motion.

Earl Of Worcester

Hear you, cousin; a word.

Hotspur

All studies here I solemnly defy,
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,
But that I think his father loves him not
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I would have him poison’d with a pot of ale.

Earl Of Worcester

Farewell, kinsman: I’ll talk to you
When you are better temper’d to attend.

Northumberland

Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
Art thou to break into this woman’s mood,
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!

Hotspur

Why, look you, I am whipp’d and scourged with rods,
Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard’s time,— what do you call the place?—
A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;
’Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
His uncle York; where I first bow’d my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,—
’sblood!—
When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

Northumberland

At Berkley castle.

Hotspur

You say true:
Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look, “when his infant fortune came to age,”
And “gentle Harry Percy,” and “kind cousin;”
O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!
Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.

Earl Of Worcester

Nay, if you have not, to it again;
We will stay your leisure.

Hotspur

I have done, i’ faith.

Earl Of Worcester

Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas’ son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assured,
Will easily be granted. You, my lord,

To Northumberland

Your son in Scotland being thus employ’d,
Shall secretly into the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.

Hotspur

Of York, is it not?

Earl Of Worcester

True; who bears hard
His brother’s death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
I speak not this in estimation,
As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

Hotspur

I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.

Northumberland

Before the game is afoot, thou still let’st slip.

Hotspur

Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
And then the power of Scotland and of York,
To join with Mortimer, ha?

Earl Of Worcester

And so they shall.

Hotspur

In faith, it is exceedingly well aim’d.

Earl Of Worcester

And ’tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head;
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king will always think him in our debt,
And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home:
And see already how he doth begin
To make us strangers to his looks of love.

Hotspur

He does, he does: we’ll be revenged on him.

Earl Of Worcester

Cousin, farewell: no further go in this
Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
I’ll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;
Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

Northumberland

Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.

Hotspur

Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short
Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!

Exeunt

A
CT
II

S
CENE
I. R
OCHESTER
. A
N
INN
YARD
.

Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand

First Carrier

Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I’ll be hanged: Charles’ wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!

Ostler

[Within]
 
Anon, anon.

First Carrier

I prithee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle, put a few flocks in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out of all cess.

Enter another Carrier

Second Carrier

Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.

First Carrier

Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him.

Second Carrier

I think this be the most villanous house in all
London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.

First Carrier

Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne’er a king christen could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.

Second Carrier

Why, they will allow us ne’er a jordan, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach.

First Carrier

What, ostler! come away and be hanged!

Second Carrier

I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.

First Carrier

God’s body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An ’twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! hast thou no faith in thee?

Enter Gadshill

Gadshill

Good morrow, carriers. What’s o’clock?

First Carrier

I think it be two o’clock.

Gadshill

I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.

First Carrier

Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i’ faith.

Gadshill

I pray thee, lend me thine.

Second Carrier

Ay, when? can’st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth he? marry, I’ll see thee hanged first.

Gadshill

Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?

Second Carrier

Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we’ll call up the gentleman: they will along with company, for they have great charge.

Exeunt carriers

Gadshill

What, ho! chamberlain!

Chamberlain

[Within]
 
At hand, quoth pick-purse.

Gadshill

That’s even as fair as — at hand, quoth the chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; thou layest the plot how.

Enter Chamberlain

Chamberlain

Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that I told you yesternight: there’s a franklin in the wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; they will away presently.

Gadshill

Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas’ clerks, I’ll give thee this neck.

Chamberlain

No, I’ll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.

Gadshill

What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, I’ll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are content to do the profession some grace; that would, if matters should be looked into, for their own credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.

Chamberlain

What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold out water in foul way?

Gadshill

She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

Chamberlain

Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.

Gadshill

Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true man.

Chamberlain

Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.

Gadshill

Go to; “homo” is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.

Exeunt

S
CENE
II. T
HE
HIGHWAY
,
NEAR
G
ADSHILL
.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins

Poins

Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff’s horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.

Prince Henry

Stand close.

Enter Falstaff

Falstaff

Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!

Prince Henry

Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost thou keep!

Falstaff

Where’s Poins, Hal?

Prince Henry

He is walked up to the top of the hill: I’ll go seek him.

Falstaff

I am accursed to rob in that thief’s company: the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I ’scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the rogue’s company. If the rascal hath not given me medicines to make me love him, I’ll be hanged; it could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! I’ll starve ere I’ll rob a foot further. An ’twere not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!

They whistle

Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!

Prince Henry

Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

Falstaff

Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? ’sblood, I’ll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again for all the coin in thy father’s exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

Prince Henry

Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

Falstaff

I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king’s son.

Prince Henry

Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?

Falstaff

Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I be ta’en, I’ll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

Enter Gadshill, Bardolph and Peto

Gadshill

Stand.

Falstaff

So I do, against my will.

Poins

O, ’tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, what news?

Bardolph

Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there ’s money of the king’s coming down the hill; ’tis going to the king’s exchequer.