King Henry IV, Part 2

by William Shakespeare

Re-enter BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF. Have you turn'd him out a doors?
BARDOLPH. Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir,
i'
th' shoulder.
FALSTAFF. A rascal! to brave me!
DOLL. 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' faith, 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. Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An 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, Don. A
rascal
bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quick-silver.
DOLL. I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
leave
fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up
thine
old body for heaven?

Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers

FALSTAFF. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head;
do
not bid me remember mine end.
DOLL. Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?
FALSTAFF. A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have made a
good
pantler; 'a would ha' chipp'd bread well.
DOLL. They say Poins has a good wit.
FALSTAFF. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit's as thick
as
Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in
a
mallet.
DOLL. Why does the Prince love him so, then?
FALSTAFF. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'a
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 join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, and
wears
his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, and
breeds
no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other
gambol
faculties 'a has, 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 a hair will turn the scales between
their
avoirdupois.
PRINCE. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
POINS. Let's beat him before his whore.
PRINCE. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.
POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years
outlive
performance?
FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says
th'
almanac to that?
POINS. And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
lisping
to his master's old tables, his note-book, his
counsel-keeper.
FALSTAFF. Thou dost give me flattering busses.
DOLL. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
FALSTAFF. I am old, I am old.
DOLL. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
them all.
FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive
money a
Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.
DOLL. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.
Well,
hearken a' th' end.
FALSTAFF. Some sack, Francis.
PRINCE & POINS. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]
FALSTAFF. Ha! a bastard son of the King's? And art thou not
Poins
his brother?
PRINCE. 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. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.
HOSTESS. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcome
to
London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu,
are
you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
[Leaning his band upon DOLL]
DOLL. 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. YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak
of
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
HOSTESS. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by
my
troth.
FALSTAFF. Didst thou hear me?
PRINCE. Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
Gadshill. 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. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and
then I know how to handle you.
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.
PRINCE. Not to dispraise me, and call me pander, and
bread-chipper, and I know not what!
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal.
POINS. No abuse!
FALSTAFF. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I
disprais'd him before the wicked—that the wicked might not
fall
in love with thee; 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, faith,
boys,
none.
PRINCE. 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
thy
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 prick'd 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. For the women?
FALSTAFF. For one of them—she's in hell already, and burns
poor
souls. For th' other—I owe her money; and whether she be
damn'd
for that, I know not.
HOSTESS. 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. All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or two
in a
whole Lent?
PRINCE. You, gentlewoman—
DOLL. What says your Grace?
FALSTAFF. His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
[Knocking within]
HOSTESS. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door there,
Francis.

Enter PETO

PRINCE. 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. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
So idly to profane 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, good night.

Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we