King Henry IV, Part 1 - William Shakespeare (sad books to read .TXT) 📗

Pointz, and be hang’d! Pointz!

PRINCE.

[Coming forward.]

Peace, ye fat-kidney’d rascal! what a brawling dost thou keep!

FAL. Where’s Pointz, Hal?

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

[Retires.]

FAL. 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 squire further a-foot, 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 year, and yet I am bewitch’d with the rogue’s company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I’ll be hang’d; it could not be else: I have drunk medicines.— Pointz!—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 a-foot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: a plague upon’t, 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 hang’d!

PRINCE. [Coming forward.] Peace! lie down; lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

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

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

FAL. I pr’ythee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king’s son.

PRINCE. Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?

FAL. 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 a-foot too, I hate it.

[Enter Gadshill.]

GADS. Stand!

FAL. So I do, against my will.

POINTZ. O, ‘tis our setter: I know his voice.

[Comes forward with Bardolph and Peto.]

BARD. What news?

GADS. Case ye, case ye; on with your visards: there’s money of the King’s coming down the hill; ‘tis going to the King’s exchequer.

FAL. You lie, ye rogue; ‘tis going to the King’s tavern.

GADS. There’s enough to make us all.

FAL. To be hang’d.

PRINCE. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Pointz and I will walk lower; if they ‘scape from your encounter, then they light on us.

PETO. How many be there of them?

GADS. Some eight or ten.

FAL. Zwounds, will they not rob us?

PRINCE. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?

FAL. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal.

PRINCE. Well, we leave that to the proof.

POINTZ. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: when thou need’st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.

FAL. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang’d.

PRINCE. [aside to POINTZ.] Ned, where are our disguises?

POINTZ. [aside to PRINCE HENRY.] Here, hard by: stand close.

[Exeunt Prince and Pointz.]

FAL. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: every man to his business.

[Enter Travellers.]

FIRST TRAVELLER. Come, neighbour: The boy shall lead our horses down the hill; We’ll walk a-foot awhile and ease our legs.

FALS, GADS., &C. Stand!

SECOND TRAVELLER. Jesu bless us!

FAL. Strike; down with them; cut the villains’ throats. Ah, whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; fleece them.

FIRST TRAVELLER. O, we’re undone, both we and ours for ever!

 

FAL. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. You are grand-jurors, are ye? we’ll jure ye, i’faith.

[Exeunt Fals., Gads., &c., driving the Travellers out.]

[Re-enter Prince Henry and Pointz, in buckram suits.]

PRINCE. The thieves have bound the true men. Now, could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.

POINTZ. Stand close: I hear them coming.

[They retire.]

[Re-enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto.]

FAL. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day. An the Prince and Pointz be not two arrant cowards, there’s no equity stirring: there’s no more valour in that Pointz than in a

wild duck.

[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them.]

PRINCE. Your money!

POINTZ. Villains!

[Falstaff, after a blow or two, and the others run away, leaving the booty behind them.]

PRINCE. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: The thieves are scatter’d, and possess’d with fear So strongly that they dare not meet each other; Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, good Ned. Fat Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along: Were’t not for laughing, I should pity him.

POINTZ. How the rogue roar’d!

[Exeunt.]

 

Scene III. Warkworth. A Room in the Castle.

[Enter Hotspur, reading a letter.]

HOT. —But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your House.—He could be contented; why is he not, then? In respect of the love he bears our House!—he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous;—Why, that’s certain: ‘tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition.— Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my Lord of York commends the plot and the general course of the action. Zwounds! an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady’s fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself? Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen Glendower? is there not, besides, the Douglas? have I not all their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are they not some of them set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimm’d milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the King: we are prepared. I will set forward to-night.—

[Enter Lady Percy.]

How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.

 

LADY. O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence have I this fortnight been A banish’d woman from my Harry’s bed? Tell me, sweet lord, what is’t that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, And start so often when thou sitt’st alone? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; And given my treasures and my rights of thee To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy? In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch’d, And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; Cry Courage! to the field! And thou hast talk’d Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, Of prisoners ransomed, and of soldiers slain, And all the ‘currents of a heady fight. Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, And thus hath so bestirr’d thee in thy sleep, That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; And in thy face strange motions have appear’d, Such as we see when men restrain their breath On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, And I must know it, else he loves me not.

HOT. What, ho!

[Enter a Servant.]

Is Gilliams with the packet gone?

SERV. He is, my lord, an hour ago.

HOT. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?

SERV. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.

HOT. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?

SERV. It is, my lord.

HOT. That roan shall be my throne. Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!— Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

[Exit Servant.]

LADY. But hear you, my lord.

HOT. What say’st thou, my lady?

LADY. What is it carries you away?

HOT. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.

LADY. Out, you mad-headed ape! A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen As you are toss’d with. In faith, I’ll know your business, Harry, that I will. I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir About his title, and hath sent for you To line his enterprise: but if you go,—

HOT. So far a-foot, I shall be weary, love.

LADY. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me Directly to this question that I ask: In faith, I’ll break thy little finger, Harry, An if thou wilt not tell me true.

HOT. Away, Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: We must have bloody noses and crack’d crowns, And pass them current too.—Gods me, my horse!— What say’st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have with me?

LADY. Do you not love me? do you not indeed? Well, do not, then; for, since you love me not, I will not love myself. Do you not love me? Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

HOT. Come, wilt thou see me ride? And when I am o’ horseback, I will swear I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; I must not have you henceforth question me Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. I know you wise; but yet no further wise Than Harry Percy’s wife; constant you are; But yet a woman: and, for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

LADY. How! so far?

HOT. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: Whither I go, thither shall you go too; To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. Will this content you, Kate?

LADY. It must of force.

[Exeunt.]

 

Scene IV. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar’s-Head Tavern.

[Enter Prince Henry.]

PRINCE. Ned, pr’ythee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little.

[Enter Pointz.]

POINTZ. Where hast been, Hal?

PRINCE. With three or four loggerheads amongst three or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the