Henry the Sixt




Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
are presented herein:

  Barnardo. Who's there?
  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
your selfe

   Bar. Long liue the King

***

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,

Part of Henry the Sixt.

Michael S. Hart

Executive Director


***


Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
abbreviations as I have come across them.  Everything within
brackets [] is what I have added.  So if you don't like that
you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
differences between various copies of the first folio.  So there may
be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
this and other first folio editions.  This is due to the printer's
habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
continuing the printing run.  The proof run wasn't thrown away but
incorporated into the printed copies.  This is just the way it is.
The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
First Folio editions' best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel
free to email me those errors.  I wish to make this the best
etext possible.  My email address for right now are haradda@aol.com
and davidr@inconnect.com.  I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed

The First Part of Henry the Fourth

with the Life and Death of Henry Sirnamed Hot-Spvrre


Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter the King, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland,
with
others.

  King. So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Finde we a time for frighted Peace to pant,
And breath shortwinded accents of new broils
To be commenc'd in Stronds a-farre remote:
No more the thirsty entrance of this Soile,
Shall daube her lippes with her owne childrens blood:
No more shall trenching Warre channell her fields,
Nor bruise her Flowrets with the Armed hoofes
Of hostile paces. Those opposed eyes,
Which like the Meteors of a troubled Heauen,
All of one Nature, of one Substance bred,
Did lately meete in the intestine shocke,
And furious cloze of ciuill Butchery,
Shall now in mutuall well-beseeming rankes
March all one way, and be no more oppos'd
Against Acquaintance, Kindred, and Allies.
The edge of Warre, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his Master. Therefore Friends,
As farre as to the Sepulcher of Christ,
Whose Souldier now vnder whose blessed Crosse
We are impressed and ingag'd to fight,
Forthwith a power of English shall we leuie,
Whose armes were moulded in their Mothers wombe,
To chace these Pagans in those holy Fields,
Ouer whose Acres walk'd those blessed feete
Which fourteene hundred yeares ago were nail'd
For our aduantage on the bitter Crosse.
But this our purpose is a tweluemonth old,
And bootlesse 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare
Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland,
What yesternight our Councell did decree,
In forwarding this deere expedience

   West. My Liege: This haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the Charge set downe
But yesternight: when all athwart there came
A Post from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes;
Whose worst was, That the Noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wilde Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Vpon whose dead corpes there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shamelesse transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
(Without much shame) re-told or spoken of

   King. It seemes then, that the tidings of this broile,
Brake off our businesse for the Holy land

   West. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord,
Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes
Came from the North, and thus it did report:
On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotspurre there,
Young Harry Percy, and braue Archibald,
That euer-valiant and approoued Scot,
At Holmeden met, where they did spend
A sad and bloody houre:
As by discharge of their Artillerie,
And shape of likely-hood the newes was told:
For he that brought them, in the very heate
And pride of their contention, did take horse,
Vncertaine of the issue any way

   King. Heere is a deere and true industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his Horse,
Strain'd with the variation of each soyle,
Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours:
And he hath brought vs smooth and welcome newes.
The Earle of Dowglas is discomfited,
Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty Knights
Balk'd in their owne blood did Sir Walter see
On Holmedons Plaines. Of Prisoners, Hotspurre tooke
Mordake Earle of Fife, and eldest sonne
To beaten Dowglas, and the Earle of Atholl,
Of Murry, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoyle?
A gallant prize? Ha Cosin, is it not? Infaith it is

   West. A Conquest for a Prince to boast of

   King. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, & mak'st me sin,
In enuy, that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the Father of so blest a Sonne:
A Sonne, who is the Theame of Honors tongue;
Among'st a Groue, the very straightest Plant,
Who is sweet Fortunes Minion, and her Pride:
Whil'st I by looking on the praise of him,
See Ryot and Dishonor staine the brow
Of my yong Harry. O that it could be prou'd,
That some Night-tripping-Faiery, had exchang'd
In Cradle-clothes, our Children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet:
Then would I haue his Harry, and he mine:
But let him from my thoughts. What thinke you Coze
Of this young Percies pride? The Prisoners
Which he in this aduenture hath surpriz'd,
To his owne vse he keepes, and sends me word
I shall haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife

   West. This is his Vnckles teaching. This is Worcester
Maleuolent to you in all Aspects:
Which makes him prune himselfe, and bristle vp
The crest of Youth against your Dignity

   King. But I haue sent for him to answer this:
And for this cause a-while we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Ierusalem.
Cosin, on Wednesday next, our Councell we will hold
At Windsor, and so informe the Lords:
But come your selfe with speed to vs againe,
For more is to be saide, and to be done,
Then out of anger can be vttered

   West. I will my Liege.

Exeunt.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Henry Prince of Wales, Sir Iohn Falstaffe, and Pointz.

  Fal. Now Hal, what time of day is it Lad?
  Prince. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of olde
Sacke, and vnbuttoning thee after Supper, and sleeping
vpon Benches in the afternoone, that thou hast forgotten
to demand that truely, which thou wouldest truly know.
What a diuell hast thou to do with the time of the day?
vnlesse houres were cups of Sacke, and minutes Capons,
and clockes the tongues of Bawdes, and dialls the signes
of Leaping-houses, and the blessed Sunne himselfe a faire
hot Wench in Flame-coloured Taffata; I see no reason,
why thou shouldest bee so superfluous, to demaund the
time of the day

   Fal. Indeed you come neere me now Hal, for we that
take Purses, go by the Moone and seuen Starres, and not
by Phoebus hee, that wand'ring Knight so faire. And I
prythee sweet Wagge, when thou art King, as God saue
thy Grace, Maiesty I should say, for Grace thou wilte
haue none

   Prin. What, none?
  Fal. No, not so much as will serue to be Prologue to
an Egge and Butter

   Prin. Well, how then? Come roundly, roundly

   Fal. Marry then, sweet Wagge, when thou art King,
let not vs that are Squires of the Nights bodie, bee call'd
Theeues of the Dayes beautie. Let vs be Dianaes Forresters,
Gentlemen of the Shade, Minions of the Moone;
and let men say, we be men of good Gouernment, being
gouerned as the Sea, by our noble and chast mistris the
Moone, vnder whose countenance we steale

   Prin. Thou say'st well, and it holds well too: for the
fortune of vs that are the Moones men, doeth ebbe and
flow like the Sea, beeing gouerned as the Sea is, by the
Moone: as for proofe. Now a Purse of Gold most resolutely
snatch'd on Monday night, and most dissolutely
spent on Tuesday Morning; got with swearing, Lay by:
and spent with crying, Bring in: now, in as low an ebbe
as the foot of the Ladder, and by and by in as high a flow
as the ridge of the Gallowes

   Fal. Thou say'st true Lad: and is not my Hostesse of
the Tauerne a most sweet Wench?
  Prin. As is the hony, my old Lad of the Castle: and is
not a Buffe Ierkin a most sweet robe of durance?
  Fal. How now? how now mad Wagge? What in thy
quips and thy quiddities? What a plague haue I to doe
with a Buffe-Ierkin?
  Prin. Why, what a poxe haue I to doe with my Hostesse
of the Tauerne?
  Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reck'ning many a
time and oft

   Prin. Did I euer call for thee to pay thy part?
  Fal. No, Ile giue thee thy due, thou hast paid al there

   Prin. Yea and elsewhere, so farre as my Coine would
stretch, and where it would not, I haue vs'd my credit

   Fal. Yea, and so vs'd it, that were it heere apparant,
that thou art Heire apparant. But I prythee sweet Wag,
shall there be Gallowes standing in England when thou
art King? and resolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rustie
curbe of old Father Anticke the Law? Doe not thou
when thou art a King, hang a Theefe

   Prin. No, thou shalt

   Fal. Shall I? O rare! Ile be a braue Iudge

   Prin. Thou iudgest false already. I meane, thou shalt
haue the hanging of the Theeues, and so become a rare
Hangman

   Fal. Well Hal, well: and in some sort it iumpes with
my humour, as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell
you

   Prin. For obtaining of suites?
  Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suites, whereof the Hangman
hath no leane Wardrobe. I am as Melancholly as a
Gyb-Cat, or a lugg'd Beare

   Prin. Or an old Lyon, or a Louers Lute

   Fal. Yea, or the Drone of a Lincolnshire Bagpipe

   Prin. What say'st thou to a Hare, or the Melancholly
of Moore Ditch?
  Fal. Thou hast the most vnsauoury smiles, and art indeed
the most comparatiue rascallest sweet yong Prince.
But Hal, I prythee trouble me no more with vanity, I wold
thou and I knew, where a Commodity of good names
were to be bought: an olde Lord of the Councell rated
me the other day in the street about you sir; but I mark'd
him not, and yet hee talk'd very wisely, but I regarded
him not, and yet he talkt wisely, and in the street too

   Prin. Thou didst well: for no man regards it

   Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeede
able to corrupt a Saint. Thou hast done much harme vnto
me Hall, God forgiue thee for it. Before I knew thee
Hal, I knew nothing: and now I am (if a man shold speake
truly) little better then one of the wicked. I must giue ouer
this life, and I will giue it ouer: and I do not, I am a
Villaine. Ile be damn'd for neuer a Kings sonne in Christendome

   Prin. Where shall we take a purse to morrow, Iacke?
  Fal. Where thou wilt Lad, Ile make one: and I doe
not, call me Villaine, and baffle me

   Prin. I see a good amendment of life in thee: From
Praying, to Purse-taking

   Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my Vocation Hal: 'Tis no sin for a
man to labour in his Vocation

   Pointz. Now shall wee know if Gads hill haue set a
Watch. O, if men were to be saued by merit, what hole
in Hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent
Villaine, that euer cryed, Stand, to a true man

   Prin. Good morrow Ned

   Poines. Good morrow sweet Hal. What saies Monsieur
remorse? What sayes Sir Iohn Sacke and Sugar:
Iacke? How agrees the Diuell and thee about thy Soule,
that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last, for a Cup of
Madera, and a cold Capons legge?
  Prin. Sir Iohn stands to his word, the diuel shall haue
his bargaine, for he was neuer yet a Breaker of Prouerbs:
He will giue the diuell his due

   Poin. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with
the diuell

   Prin. Else he had damn'd cozening the diuell

   Poy. But my Lads, my Lads, to morrow morning, by
foure a clocke early at Gads hill, there are Pilgrimes going
to Canterbury with rich Offerings, and Traders riding
to London with fat Purses. I haue vizards for you
all; you haue horses for your selues: Gads-hill lyes to
night in Rochester, I haue bespoke Supper to morrow in
Eastcheape; we may doe it as secure as sleepe: if you will
go, I will stuffe your Purses full of Crownes: if you will
not, tarry at home and be hang'd

   Fal. Heare ye Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not,
Ile hang you for going

   Poy. You will chops

   Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?
  Prin. Who, I rob? I a Theefe? Not I

   Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship
in thee, nor thou cam'st not of the blood-royall,
if thou dar'st not stand for ten shillings

   Prin. Well then, once in my dayes Ile be a mad-cap

   Fal. Why, that's well said

   Prin. Well, come what will, Ile tarry at home

   Fal. Ile be a Traitor then, when thou art King

   Prin. I care not

   Poyn. Sir Iohn, I prythee leaue the Prince & me alone,
I will lay him downe such reasons for this aduenture, that
he shall go

   Fal. Well, maist thou haue the Spirit of perswasion;
and he the eares of profiting, that what thou speakest,
may moue; and what he heares may be beleeued, that the
true Prince, may (for recreation sake) proue a false theefe;
for the poore abuses of the time, want countenance. Farwell,
you shall finde me in Eastcheape

   Prin. Farwell the latter Spring. Farewell Alhollown
Summer

   Poy. Now, my good sweet Hony Lord, ride with vs
to morrow. I haue a iest to execute, that I cannot mannage
alone. Falstaffe, Haruey, Rossill, and Gads-hill, shall
robbe those men that wee haue already way-layde, your
selfe and I, wil not be there: and when they haue the booty,
if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my
shoulders

   Prin. But how shal we part with them in setting forth?
  Poyn. Why, we wil set forth before or after them, and
appoint them a place of meeting, wherin it is at our pleasure
to faile; and then will they aduenture vppon the exploit
themselues, which they shall haue no sooner atchieued,
but wee'l set vpon them

   Prin. I, but tis like that they will know vs by our
horses, by our habits, and by euery other appointment to
be our selues

   Poy. Tut our horses they shall not see, Ile tye them in
the wood, our vizards wee will change after wee leaue
them: and sirrah, I haue Cases of Buckram for the nonce,
to immaske our noted outward garments

   Prin. But I doubt they will be too hard for vs

   Poin. Well, for two of them, I know them to bee as
true bred Cowards as euer turn'd backe: and for the third
if he fight longer then he sees reason, Ile forswear Armes.
The vertue of this Iest will be, the incomprehensible lyes
that this fat Rogue will tell vs, when we meete at Supper:
how thirty at least he fought with, what Wardes, what
blowes, what extremities he endured; and in the reproofe
of this, lyes the iest

   Prin. Well, Ile goe with thee, prouide vs all things
necessary, and meete me to morrow night in Eastcheape,
there Ile sup. Farewell

   Poyn. Farewell, my Lord.

Exit Pointz

  Prin. I know you all, and will a-while vphold
The vnyoak'd humor of your idlenesse:
Yet heerein will I imitate the Sunne,
Who doth permit the base contagious cloudes
To smother vp his Beauty from the world,
That when he please againe to be himselfe,
Being wanted, he may be more wondred at,
By breaking through the foule and vgly mists
Of vapours, that did seeme to strangle him.
If all the yeare were playing holidaies,
To sport, would be as tedious as to worke;
But when they seldome come, they wisht-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behauiour I throw off,
And pay the debt I neuer promised;
By how much better then my word I am,
By so much shall I falsifie mens hopes,
And like bright Mettall on a sullen ground:
My reformation glittering o're my fault,
Shall shew more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Then that which hath no foyle to set it off.
Ile so offend, to make offence a skill,
Redeeming time, when men thinke least I will.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspurre, Sir Walter
Blunt,
and others.

  King. My blood hath beene too cold and temperate,
Vnapt to stirre at these indignities,
And you haue found me; for accordingly,
You tread vpon my patience: But be sure,
I will from henceforth rather be my Selfe,
Mighty, and to be fear'd, then my condition
Which hath beene smooth as Oyle, soft as yong Downe,
And therefore lost that Title of respect,
Which the proud soule ne're payes, but to the proud

   Wor. Our house (my Soueraigne Liege) little deserues
The scourge of greatnesse to be vsed on it,
And that same greatnesse too, which our owne hands
Haue holpe to make so portly

   Nor. My Lord

   King. Worcester get thee gone: for I do see
Danger and disobedience in thine eye.
O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
And Maiestie might neuer yet endure
The moody Frontier of a seruant brow,
You haue good leaue to leaue vs. When we need
Your vse and counsell, we shall send for you.
You were about to speake

   North. Yea, my good Lord.
Those Prisoners in your Highnesse demanded,
Which Harry Percy heere at Holmedon tooke,
Were (as he sayes) not with such strength denied
As was deliuered to your Maiesty:
Who either through enuy, or misprision,
Was guilty of this fault; and not my Sonne

   Hot. My Liege, I did deny no Prisoners.
But, I remember when the fight was done,
When I was dry with Rage, and extreame Toyle,
Breathlesse, and Faint, leaning vpon my Sword,
Came there a certaine Lord, neat and trimly drest;
Fresh as a Bride-groome, and his Chin new reapt,
Shew'd like a stubble Land at Haruest home.
He was perfumed like a Milliner,
And 'twixt his Finger and his Thumbe, he held
A Pouncet-box: which euer and anon
He gaue his Nose, and took't away againe:
Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Tooke it in Snuffe. And still he smil'd and talk'd:
And as the Souldiers bare dead bodies by,
He call'd them vntaught Knaues, Vnmannerly,
To bring a slouenly vnhandsome Coarse
Betwixt the Winde, and his Nobility.
With many Holiday and Lady tearme
He question'd me: Among the rest, demanded
My Prisoners, in your Maiesties behalfe.
I then, all-smarting, with my wounds being cold,
(To be so pestered with a Popingay)
Out of my Greefe, and my Impatience,
Answer'd (neglectingly) I know not what,
He should, or should not: For he made me mad,
To see him shine so briske, and smell so sweet,
And talke so like a Waiting-Gentlewoman,
Of Guns, & Drums, and Wounds: God saue the marke;
And telling me, the Soueraign'st thing on earth
Was Parmacity, for an inward bruise:
And that it was great pitty, so it was,
That villanous Salt-peter should be digg'd
Out of the Bowels of the harmlesse Earth,
Which many a good Tall Fellow had destroy'd
So Cowardly. And but for these vile Gunnes,
He would himselfe haue beene a Souldier.
This bald, vnioynted Chat of his (my Lord)
Made me to answer indirectly (as I said.)
And I beseech you, let not this report
Come currant for an Accusation,
Betwixt my Loue, and your high Maiesty

   Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my Lord,
What euer Harry Percie then had said,
To such a person, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably dye, and neuer rise
To do him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he said, so he vnsay it now

   King. Why yet doth deny his Prisoners,
But with Prouiso and Exception,
That we at our owne charge, shall ransome straight
His Brother-in-Law, the foolish Mortimer,
Who (in my soule) hath wilfully betraid
The liues of those, that he did leade to Fight,
Against the great Magitian, damn'd Glendower:
Whose daughter (as we heare) the Earle of March
Hath lately married. Shall our Coffers then,
Be emptied, to redeeme a Traitor home?
Shall we buy Treason? and indent with Feares,
When they haue lost and forfeyted themselues.
No: on the barren Mountaine let him sterue:
For I shall neuer hold that man my Friend,
Whose tongue shall aske me for one peny cost
To ransome home reuolted Mortimer

   Hot. Reuolted Mortimer?
He neuer did fall off, my Soueraigne Liege,
But by the chance of Warre: to proue that true,
Needs no more but one tongue. For all those Wounds,
Those mouthed Wounds, which valiantly he tooke,
When on the gentle Seuernes siedgie banke,
In single Opposition hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an houre
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink
Vpon agreement, of swift Seuernes flood;
Who then affrighted with their bloody lookes,
Ran fearefully among the trembling Reeds,
And hid his crispe-head in the hollow banke,
Blood-stained with these Valiant Combatants.
Neuer did base and rotten Policy
Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor neuer could the Noble Mortimer
Receiue so many, and all willingly:
Then let him not be sland'red with Reuolt

   King. Thou do'st bely him Percy, thou dost bely him;
He neuer did encounter with Glendower:
I tell thee, he durst as well haue met the diuell alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art thou not asham'd? But Sirrah, henceforth
Let me not heare you speake of Mortimer.
Send me your Prisoners with the speediest meanes,
Or you shall heare in such a kinde from me
As will displease ye. My Lord Northumberland,
We License your departure with your sonne,
Send vs your Prisoners, or you'l heare of it.

Exit King.

  Hot. And if the diuell come and roare for them
I will not send them. I will after straight
And tell him so: for I will ease my heart,
Although it be with hazard of my head

   Nor. What? drunke with choller? stay & pause awhile,
Heere comes your Vnckle.
Enter Worcester.

  Hot. Speake of Mortimer?
Yes, I will speake of him, and let my soule
Want mercy, if I do not ioyne with him.
In his behalfe, Ile empty all these Veines,
And shed my deere blood drop by drop i'th dust,
But I will lift the downfall Mortimer
As high i'th Ayre, as this Vnthankfull King,
As this Ingrate and Cankred Bullingbrooke

   Nor. Brother, the King hath made your Nephew mad
  Wor. Who strooke this heate vp after I was gone?
  Hot. He will (forsooth) haue all my Prisoners:
And when I vrg'd the ransom once againe
Of my Wiues Brother, then his cheeke look'd pale,
And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling euen at the name of Mortimer

   Wor. I cannot blame him: was he not proclaim'd
By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?
  Nor. He was: I heard the Proclamation,
And then it was, when the vnhappy King
(Whose wrongs in vs God pardon) did set forth
Vpon his Irish Expedition:
From whence he intercepted, did returne
To be depos'd, and shortly murthered

   Wor. And for whose death, we in the worlds wide mouth
Liue scandaliz'd, and fouly spoken of

   Hot. But soft I pray you; did King Richard then
Proclaime my brother Mortimer,
Heyre to the Crowne?
  Nor. He did, my selfe did heare it

   Hot. Nay then I cannot blame his Cousin King,
That wish'd him on the barren Mountaines staru'd.
But shall it be, that you that set the Crowne
Vpon the head of this forgetfull man,
And for his sake, wore the detested blot
Of murtherous subornation? Shall it be,
That you a world of curses vndergoe,
Being the Agents, or base second meanes,
The Cords, the Ladder, or the Hangman rather?
O pardon, if that I descend so low,
To shew the Line, and the Predicament
Wherein you range vnder this subtill King.
Shall it for shame, be spoken in these dayes,
Or fill vp Chronicles in time to come,
That men of your Nobility and Power,
Did gage them both in an vniust behalfe
(As Both of you, God pardon it, haue done)
To put downe Richard, that sweet louely Rose,
And plant this Thorne, this Canker Bullingbrooke?
And shall it in more shame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and shooke off
By him, for whom these shames ye vnderwent?
No: yet time serues, wherein you may redeeme
Your banish'd Honors, and restore your selues
Into the good Thoughts of the world againe.
Reuenge the geering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud King, who studies day and night
To answer all the Debt he owes vnto you,
Euen with the bloody Payment of your deaths:
Therefore I say-
  Wor. Peace Cousin, say no more.
And now I will vnclaspe a Secret booke,
And to your quicke conceyuing Discontents,
Ile reade you Matter, deepe and dangerous,
As full of perill and aduenturous Spirit,
As to o're-walke a Current, roaring loud
On the vnstedfast footing of a Speare

   Hot. If he fall in, good night, or sinke or swimme:
Send danger from the East vnto the West,
So Honor crosse it from the North to South,
And let them grapple: The blood more stirres
To rowze a Lyon, then to start a Hare

   Nor. Imagination of some great exploit,
Driues him beyond the bounds of Patience

   Hot. By heauen, me thinkes it were an easie leap,
To plucke bright Honor from the pale-fac'd Moone,
Or diue into the bottome of the deepe,
Where Fadome-line could neuer touch the ground,
And plucke vp drowned Honor by the Lockes:
So he that doth redeeme her thence, might weare
Without Co-riuall, all her Dignities:
But out vpon this halfe-fac'd Fellowship

   Wor. He apprehends a World of Figures here,
But not the forme of what he should attend:
Good Cousin giue me audience for a-while,
And list to me

   Hot. I cry you mercy

   Wor. Those same Noble Scottes
That are your Prisoners

   Hot. Ile keepe them all.
By heauen, he shall not haue a Scot of them:
No, if a Scot would saue his Soule, he shall not.
Ile keepe them, by this Hand

   Wor. You start away,
And lend no eare vnto my purposes.
Those Prisoners you shall keepe

   Hot. Nay, I will: that's flat:
He said, he would not ransome Mortimer:
Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer.
But I will finde him when he lyes asleepe,
And in his eare, Ile holla Mortimer.
Nay, Ile haue a Starling shall be taught to speake
Nothing but Mortimer, and giue it him,
To keepe his anger still in motion

   Wor. Heare you Cousin: a word

   Hot. All studies heere I solemnly defie,
Saue how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrooke,
And that same Sword and Buckler Prince of Wales.
But that I thinke his Father loues him not,
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I would haue poyson'd him with a pot of Ale

   Wor. Farewell Kinsman: Ile talke to you
When you are better temper'd to attend

   Nor. Why what a Waspe-tongu'd & impatient foole
Art thou, to breake into this Womans mood,
Tying thine eare to no tongue but thine owne?
  Hot. Why look you, I am whipt & scourg'd with rods,
Netled, and stung with Pismires, when I heare
Of this vile Politician Bullingbrooke.
In Richards time: What de'ye call the place?
A plague vpon't, it is in Gloustershire:
'Twas, where the madcap Duke his Vncle kept,
His Vncle Yorke, where I first bow'd my knee
Vnto this King of Smiles, this Bullingbrooke:
When you and he came backe from Rauenspurgh

   Nor. At Barkley Castle

   Hot. You say true:
Why what a caudie deale of curtesie,
This fawning Grey-hound then did proffer me,
Looke when his infant Fortune came to age,
And gentle Harry Percy, and kinde Cousin:
O, the Diuell take such Couzeners, God forgiue me,
Good Vncle tell your tale, for I haue done

   Wor. Nay, if you haue not, too't againe,
Wee'l stay your leysure

   Hot. I haue done insooth

   Wor. Then once more to your Scottish Prisoners.
Deliuer them vp without their ransome straight,
And make the Dowglas sonne your onely meane
For powres in Scotland: which for diuers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assur'd
Will easily be granted you, my Lord.
Your Sonne in Scotland being thus imploy'd,
Shall secretly into the bosome creepe
Of that same noble Prelate, well belou'd,
The Archbishop

   Hot. Of Yorke, is't not?
  Wor. True, who beares hard
His Brothers death at Bristow, the Lord Scroope.
I speake not this in estimation,
As what I thinke might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted, and set downe,
And onely stayes but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on

   Hot. I smell it:
Vpon my life, it will do wond'rous well

   Nor. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st slip

   Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a Noble plot,
And then the power of Scotland, and of Yorke
To ioyne with Mortimer, Ha

   Wor. And so they shall

   Hot. Infaith it is exceedingly well aym'd

   Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids vs speed,
To saue our heads, by raising of a Head:
For, beare our selues as euen as we can,
The King will alwayes thinke him in our debt,
And thinke, we thinke our selues vnsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay vs home.
And see already, how he doth beginne
To make vs strangers to his lookes of loue

   Hot. He does, he does; wee'l be reueng'd on him

   Wor. Cousin, farewell. No further go in this,
Then I by Letters shall direct your course
When time is ripe, which will be sodainly:
Ile steale to Glendower, and loe, Mortimer,
Where you, and Dowglas, and our powres at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meete,
To beare our fortunes in our owne strong armes,
Which now we hold at much vncertainty

   Nor. Farewell good Brother, we shall thriue, I trust

   Hot. Vncle, adieu: O let the houres be short,
Till fields, and blowes, and grones, applaud our sport.

Exit


Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Carrier with a Lanterne in his hand.

  1.Car. Heigh-ho, an't be not foure by the day, Ile be
hang'd. Charles waine is ouer the new Chimney, and yet
our horse not packt. What Ostler?
  Ost. Anon, anon

   1.Car. I prethee Tom, beate Cuts Saddle, put a few
Flockes in the point: the poore Iade is wrung in the withers,
out of all cesse.
Enter another Carrier.

  2.Car. Pease and Beanes are as danke here as a Dog,
and this is the next way to giue poore Iades the Bottes:
This house is turned vpside downe since Robin the Ostler
dyed

   1.Car. Poore fellow neuer ioy'd since the price of oats
rose, it was the death of him

   2.Car. I thinke this is the most villanous house in al
London rode for Fleas: I am stung like a Tench

   1.Car. Like a Tench? There is ne're a King in Christendome,
could be better bit, then I haue beene since the
first Cocke

   2.Car. Why, you will allow vs ne're a Iourden, and
then we leake in your Chimney: and your Chamber-lye
breeds Fleas like a Loach

   1.Car. What Ostler, come away, and be hangd: come
away

   2.Car. I haue a Gammon of Bacon, and two razes of
Ginger, to be deliuered as farre as Charing-crosse

   1.Car. The Turkies in my Pannier are quite starued.
What Ostler? A plague on thee, hast thou neuer an eye in
thy head? Can'st not heare? And t'were not as good a
deed as drinke, to break the pate of thee, I am a very Villaine.
Come and be hang'd, hast no faith in thee?
Enter Gads-hill.

  Gad. Good-morrow Carriers. What's a clocke?
  Car. I thinke it be two a clocke

   Gad. I prethee lend me thy Lanthorne to see my Gelding
in the stable

   1.Car. Nay soft I pray ye, I know a trick worth two
of that

   Gad. I prethee lend me thine

   2.Car. I, when, canst tell? Lend mee thy Lanthorne
(quoth-a) marry Ile see thee hang'd first

   Gad. Sirra Carrier: What time do you mean to come
to London?
  2.Car. Time enough to goe to bed with a Candle, I
warrant thee. Come neighbour Mugges, wee'll call vp
the Gentlemen, they will along with company, for they
haue great charge.

Exeunt.

Enter Chamberlaine.

  Gad. What ho, Chamberlaine?
  Cham. At hand quoth Pick-purse

   Gad. That's euen as faire, as at hand quoth the Chamberlaine:
For thou variest no more from picking of Purses,
then giuing direction, doth from labouring. Thou
lay'st the plot, how

   Cham. Good morrow Master Gads-Hill, it holds currant
that I told you yesternight. There's a Franklin in the
wilde of Kent, hath brought three hundred Markes with
him in Gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company last
night at Supper; a kinde of Auditor, one that hath abundance
of charge too (God knowes what) they are vp already,
and call for Egges and Butter. They will away
presently

   Gad. Sirra, if they meete not with S[aint]. Nicholas Clarks,
Ile giue thee this necke

   Cham. No, Ile none of it: I prythee keep that for the
Hangman, for I know thou worshipst S[aint]. Nicholas as truly
as a man of falshood may

   Gad. What talkest thou to me of the Hangman? If I
hang, Ile make a fat payre of Gallowes. For, if I hang,
old Sir Iohn hangs with mee, and thou know'st hee's no
Starueling. Tut, there are other Troians that y dream'st
not of, the which (for sport sake) are content to doe the
Profession some grace; that would (if matters should bee
look'd into) for their owne Credit sake, make all Whole.
I am ioyned with no Foot-land-Rakers, No Long-staffe
six-penny strikers, none of these mad
Mustachio-purple-hu'd-Maltwormes,
but with Nobility, and Tranquilitie;
Bourgomasters, and great Oneyers, such as can holde in,
such as will strike sooner then speake; and speake sooner
then drinke, and drinke sooner then pray: and yet I lye,
for they pray continually vnto their Saint the Commonwealth;
or rather, not to pray to her, but prey on her: for
they ride vp & downe on her, and make hir their Boots

   Cham. What, the Commonwealth their Bootes? Will
she hold out water in foule way?
  Gad. She will, she will; Iustice hath liquor'd her. We
steale as in a Castle, cocksure: we haue the receit of Fernseede,
we walke inuisible

   Cham. Nay, I thinke rather, you are more beholding
to the Night, then to the Fernseed, for your walking inuisible

   Gad. Giue me thy hand.
Thou shalt haue a share in our purpose,
As I am a true man

   Cham. Nay, rather let mee haue it, as you are a false
Theefe

   Gad. Goe too: Homo is a common name to all men.
Bid the Ostler bring the Gelding out of the stable. Farewell,
ye muddy Knaue.

Exeunt.


Scaena Secunda.


Enter Prince, Poynes, and Peto.

  Poines. Come shelter, shelter, I haue remoued Falstafs
Horse, and he frets like a gum'd Veluet

   Prin. Stand close.
Enter Falstaffe.

  Fal. Poines, Poines, and be hang'd Poines

   Prin. Peace ye fat-kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling
dost thou keepe

   Fal. What Poines. Hal?
  Prin. He is walk'd vp to the top of the hill, Ile go seek
him

   Fal. I am accurst to rob in that Theefe company: that
Rascall hath remoued my Horse, and tied him I know not
where. If I trauell but foure foot by the squire further a
foote, I shall breake my winde. Well, I doubt not but
to dye a faire death for all this, if I scape hanging for killing
that Rogue, I haue forsworne his company hourely
any time this two and twenty yeare, & yet I am bewitcht
with the Rogues company. If the Rascall haue not giuen
me medicines to make me loue him, Ile be hang'd; it could
not be else: I haue drunke Medicines. Poines, Hal, a
Plague vpon you both. Bardolph, Peto: Ile starue ere I
rob a foote further. And 'twere not as good a deede as to
drinke, to turne True-man, and to leaue these Rogues, I
am the veriest Varlet that euer chewed with a Tooth.
Eight yards of vneuen ground, is threescore & ten miles
afoot with me: and the stony-hearted Villaines knowe it
well enough. A plague vpon't, when Theeues cannot be
true one to another.

They Whistle.

Whew: a plague light vpon you all. Giue my Horse you
Rogues: giue me my Horse, and be hang'd

   Prin. Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare
close to the ground, and list if thou can heare the tread of
Trauellers

   Fal. Haue you any Leauers to lift me vp again being
downe? Ile not beare mine owne flesh so far afoot again,
for all the coine in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague
meane ye to colt me thus?
  Prin. Thou ly'st, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted

   Fal. I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,
good Kings sonne

   Prin. Out you Rogue, shall I be your Ostler?
  Fal. Go hang thy selfe in thine owne heire-apparant-Garters:
If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I haue not
Ballads made on all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of
Sacke be my poyson: when a iest is so forward, & a foote
too, I hate it.
Enter Gads-hill.

  Gad. Stand

   Fal. So I do against my will

   Poin. O 'tis our Setter, I know his voyce:
Bardolfe, what newes?
  Bar. Case ye, case ye; on with your Vizards, there's
mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going
to the Kings Exchequer

   Fal. You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tauern

   Gad. There's enough to make vs all

   Fal. To be hang'd

   Prin. You foure shall front them in the narrow Lane:
Ned and I, will walke lower; if they scape from your encounter,
then they light on vs

   Peto. But how many be of them?
  Gad. Some eight or ten

   Fal. Will they not rob vs?
  Prin. What, a Coward Sir Iohn Paunch?
  Fal. Indeed I am not Iohn of Gaunt your Grandfather;
but yet no Coward, Hal

   Prin. Wee'l leaue that to the proofe

   Poin. Sirra Iacke, thy horse stands behinde the hedg,
when thou need'st him, there thou shalt finde him. Farewell,
and stand fast

   Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd

   Prin. Ned, where are our disguises?
  Poin. Heere hard by: Stand close

   Fal. Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
euery man to his businesse.
Enter Trauellers

   Tra. Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horses
downe the hill: Wee'l walke a-foot a while, and ease our
Legges

   Theeues. Stay

   Tra. Iesu blesse vs

   Fal. Strike down with them, cut the villains throats;
a whorson Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaues, they hate vs
youth; downe with them, fleece them

   Tra. O, we are vndone, both we and ours for euer

   Fal. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No
ye Fat Chuffes, I would your store were heere. On Bacons,
on, what ye knaues? Yong men must liue, you are
Grand Iurers, are ye? Wee'l iure ye ifaith.

Heere they rob them, and binde them. Enter the Prince and Poines.

  Prin. The Theeues haue bound the True-men: Now
could thou and I rob the Theeues, and go merily to London,
it would be argument for a Weeke, Laughter for a
Moneth, and a good iest for euer

   Poynes. Stand close, I heare them comming.
Enter Theeues againe.

  Fal. Come my Masters, let vs share, and then to horsse
before day: and the Prince and Poynes bee not two arrand
Cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no moe
valour in that Poynes, than in a wilde Ducke

   Prin. Your money

   Poin. Villaines.

As they are sharing, the Prince and Poynes set vpon them. They all
run
away, leauing the booty behind them.

  Prince. Got with much ease. Now merrily to Horse:
The Theeues are scattred, and possest with fear so strongly,
that they dare not meet each other: each takes his fellow
for an Officer. Away good Ned, Falstaffe sweates to
death, and Lards the leane earth as he walkes along: wer't
not for laughing, I should pitty him

   Poin. How the Rogue roar'd.

Exeunt.


Scoena Tertia.

Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.

But for mine owne part, my Lord. I could bee well contented to
be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.
He could be contented: Why is he not then? in respect of
the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues
his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me
see some more. The purpose you vndertake is dangerous.
Why that's certaine: 'Tis dangerous to take a Colde, to
sleepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of
this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety. The
purpose you vndertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue named
vncertaine, the Time it selfe vnsorted, and your whole
Plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an Opposition.
Say you so, say you so: I say vnto you againe, you are a
shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lackebraine
is this? I protest, our plot is as good a plot as euer
was laid; our Friend true and constant: A good Plotte,
good Friends, and full of expectation: An excellent plot,
very good Friends. What a Frosty-spirited rogue is this?
Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the
generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now
by this Rascall, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.
Is there not my Father, my Vncle, and my Selfe, Lord
Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of Yorke, and Owen Glendour?
Is there not besides, the Dowglas? Haue I not all their letters,
to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Moneth?
and are they not some of them set forward already?
What a Pagan Rascall is this? An Infidell. Ha, you shall
see now in very sincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he
to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could
diuide my selfe, and go to buffets, for mouing such a dish
of skim'd Milk with so honourable an Action. Hang him,
let him tell the King we are prepared. I will set forwards
to night.
Enter his Lady.

How now Kate, I must leaue you within these two hours

   La. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence haue I this fortnight bin
A banish'd woman from my Harries bed?
Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?
And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheekes?
And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee,
To thicke-ey'd musing, and curst melancholly?
In my faint-slumbers, I by thee haue watcht,
And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres:
Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed,
Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd
Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents,
Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets,
Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin,
Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine,
And all the current of a headdy fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe,
That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed Streame;
And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd,
Such as we see when men restraine their breath
On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these?
Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand,
And I must know it: else he loues me not

   Hot. What ho; Is Gilliams with the Packet gone?
  Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone

   Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses fro[m] the Sheriffe?
  Ser. One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now

   Hot. What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not

   Ser. It is my Lord

   Hot. That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will
backe him straight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth
into the Parke

   La. But heare you, my lord

   Hot. What say'st thou my Lady?
  La. What is it carries you away?
  Hot. Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse

   La. Out you mad-headed Ape, a Weazell hath not
such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile
know your businesse Harry, that I will. I feare my Brother
Mortimer doth stirre about his Title, and hath sent
for you to line his enterprize. But if you go-
  Hot. So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue

   La. Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me directly
vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake
thy little finger Harry, if thou wilt not tel me true

   Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not,
I care not for thee Kate: this is no world
To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.
We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes,
And passe them currant too. Gods me, my horse.
What say'st thou Kate? what wold'st thou haue with me?
  La. Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed?
Well, do not then. For since you loue me not,
I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me?
Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest, or no

   Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare
I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate,
I must not haue you henceforth, question me,
Whether I go: nor reason whereabout.
Whether I must, I must: and to conclude,
This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle Kate.
I know you wise, but yet no further wise
Then Harry Percies wife. Constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecie,
No Lady closer. For I will beleeue
Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know,
And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate

   La. How so farre?
  Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate,
Whither I go, thither shall you go too:
To day will I set forth, to morrow you.
Will this content you Kate?
  La. It must of force.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Prince and Poines.

  Prin. Ned, prethee come out of that fat roome, & lend
me thy hand to laugh a little

   Poines. Where hast bene Hall?
  Prin. With three or foure Logger-heads, amongst 3.
or fourescore Hogsheads. I haue sounded the verie base
string of humility. Sirra, I am sworn brother to a leash of
Drawers, and can call them by their names, as Tom, Dicke,
and Francis. They take it already vpon their confidence,
that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King
of Curtesie: telling me flatly I am no proud Iack like Falstaffe,
but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, and
when I am King of England, I shall command al the good
Laddes in East-cheape. They call drinking deepe, dying
Scarlet; and when you breath in your watering, then
they cry hem, and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am
so good a proficient in one quarter of an houre, that I can
drinke with any Tinker in his owne Language during my
life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor, that thou
wer't not with me in this action: but sweet Ned, to sweeten
which name of Ned, I giue thee this peniworth of Sugar,
clapt euen now into my hand by an vnder Skinker,
one that neuer spake other English in his life, then Eight
shillings and six pence, and, You are welcome: with this shril
addition, Anon, Anon sir, Score a Pint of Bastard in the
Halfe Moone, or so. But Ned, to driue away time till Falstaffe
come, I prythee doe thou stand in some by-roome,
while I question my puny Drawer, to what end hee gaue
me the Sugar, and do neuer leaue calling Francis, that his
Tale to me may be nothing but, Anon: step aside, and Ile
shew thee a President

   Poines. Francis

   Prin. Thou art perfect

   Poin. Francis.
Enter Drawer.

  Fran. Anon, anon sir; looke downe into the Pomgarnet,
Ralfe

   Prince. Come hither Francis

   Fran. My Lord

   Prin. How long hast thou to serue, Francis?
  Fran. Forsooth fiue yeares, and as much as to-
  Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. Fiue yeares: Berlady a long Lease for the clinking
of Pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as
to play the coward with thy Indenture, & show it a faire
paire of heeles, and run from it?
  Fran. O Lord sir, Ile be sworne vpon all the Books in
England, I could finde in my heart

   Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. How old art thou, Francis?
  Fran. Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shalbe-
  Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon sir, pray you stay a little, my Lord

   Prin. Nay but harke you Francis, for the Sugar thou
gauest me, 'twas a penyworth, was't not?
  Fran. O Lord sir, I would it had bene two

   Prin. I will giue thee for it a thousand pound: Aske
me when thou wilt, and thou shalt haue it

   Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon

   Prin. Anon Francis? No Francis, but to morrow Francis:
or Francis, on thursday: or indeed Francis when thou
wilt. But Francis

   Fran. My Lord

   Prin. Wilt thou rob this Leatherne Ierkin, Christall
button, Not-pated, Agat ring, Puke stocking, Caddice
garter, Smooth tongue, Spanish pouch

   Fran. O Lord sir, who do you meane?
  Prin. Why then your browne Bastard is your onely
drinke: for looke you Francis, your white Canuas doublet
will sulley. In Barbary sir, it cannot come to so much

   Fran. What sir?
  Poin. Francis

   Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare them call?