The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  RUSSELL Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live long.

  SIR JOHN Why, there is it. Come, sing me a bawdy song, make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be: virtuous enough; swore little; diced not-above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house not-above once in a quarter—of an hour; paid money that I borrowed—three or four times; lived well, and in good compass. And now I live out of all order, out of all compass.

  RUSSELL Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.

  SIR JOHN Do thou amend thy face, and I’ll amend my life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop—but ’tis in the nose of thee. Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp.

  RUSSELL Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.

  SIR JOHN No, I’ll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a death’s head, or a memento mori. I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple—for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be ’By this fire that’s God’s angell’ But thou art altogether given over, and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rannest up Gads Hill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there’s no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern—but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler’s in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire any time this two-and-thirty years, God reward me for it.

  RUSSELL ’Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!

  SIR JOHN God-a-mercy! ! So should I be sure to be heart-burnt.

  Enter Hostess

  How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired

  yet who picked my pocket?

  HOSTESS Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? Do you think I keep thieves in my house ? I have searched, I have enquired; so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant. The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.

  SIR JOHN Ye lie, Hostess: Russell was shaved and lost many a hair, and I’ll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. 60

  HOSTESS Who, I? No, I defy thee! God’s light, I was never called so in mine own house before.

  SIR JOHN Go to, I know you well enough.

  HOSTESS No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John; I know you, Sir John. You owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.

  SIR JOHN Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them away to bakers’ wives; they have made bolters of them.

  HOSTESS Now as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John: for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound.

  SIR JOHN (pointing at Russell) He had his part of it. Let him pay.

  HOSTESS He? Alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.

  SIR JOHN How, poor? Look upon his face. What call you rich? Let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks, I’ll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me ? Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather’s worth forty mark.

  HOSTESS O Jesu, (to Russell) I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper.

  SIR JOHN How ? The Prince is a jack, a sneak-up. Raising his truncheon⌉ ’Sblood, an he were here I would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so.

  Enter Prince Harry and Harvey, marching; and Sir John Oldcastle meets them, playing upon his truncheon like a fife

  How now, lad, is the wind in that door, i’faith? Must

  we all march?

  RUSSELL Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

  HOSTESS My lord, I pray you hear me.

  PRINCE HARRY

  What sayst thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy

  husband?

  I love him well; he is an honest man.

  HOSTESS Good my lord, hear me!!

  SIR JOHN Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.

  PRINCE HARRY What sayst thou, Jack?

  SIR JOHN The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket picked. This house is turned bawdy-house: they pick pockets.

  PRINCE HARRY What didst thou lose, Jack? 100

  SIR JOHN Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four bonds of forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather’s.

  PRINCE HARRY A trifle, some eightpenny matter.

  HOSTESS So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say so; and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is, and said he would cudgel you. 108

  PRINCE HARRY What? He did not !

  HOSTESS There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

  SIR JOHN There’s no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune, nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and, for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go!

  HOSTESS Say, what thing, what thing?

  SIR JOHN What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on.

  HOSTESS I am no thing to thank God on. I would thou shouldst know it, I am an honest man’s wife; and setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

  SIR JOHN Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

  HOSTESS Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

  sIR JOHN What beast? Why, an otter.

  PRINCE HARRY An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?

  SIR JOHN Why? She’s neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.

  HOSTESS Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou.

  PRINCE HARRY Thou sayst true, Hostess, and he slanders thee most grossly.

  HOSTESS So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day you owed him a thousand pound.

  PRINCE HARRY (to Sir John) Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

  SIR JOHN A thousand pound, Hal? A million! Thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love.

  HOSTESS Nay, my lord, he called you ’jack’ and said he would cudgel you.

  SIR JOHN Did I, Russell?

  RUSSELL Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

  SIR JOHN Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

  PRINCE HARRY I say ’tis copper; darest thou be as good as thy word now?

  SIR JOHN Why, Hal, thou knowest as thou art but man I dare, but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion’s whelp.

  PRINCE HARRY And why not as the lion?

  SIR JOHN The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break.

  PRINCE HARRY O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But sirrah, there’s no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou whoreson impudent embossed rascal, if there were anything in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee long-winded-if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it, you will not pocket up wrong. Art thou not ashamed?

  SIR JOHN Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Oldcastle do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my pocket.

  PRINCE HARRY It appears so by the story.

  SIR JOHN Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready breakfast. Love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt find me tractab
le to any honest reason; thou seest I am pacified still. Nay, prithee, be gone. Exit Hostess Now, Hal, to the news at court. For the robbery, lad, how is that answered?

  PRINCE HARRY O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee. The money is paid back again.

  SIR JOHN O, I do not like that paying back; ’tis a double labour. 181

  PRINCE HARRY I am good friends with my father, and may do anything.

  SIR JOHN Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do it with unwashed hands too.

  RUSSELL Do, my lord.

  PRINCE HARRY I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

  SIR JOHN I would it had been of horse ! Where shall I find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief of the age of two-and-twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels-they offend none but the virtuous. I laud them, I praise them.

  PRINCE HARRY Russell.

  RUSSELL My lord?

  PRINCE HARRY (giving letters)

  Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,

  To my brother John; this to my lord of Westmorland.

  Exit Russell

  Go, Harvey, to horse, to horse, for thou and I

  Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

  Exit Harvey

  Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple Hall

  At two o’clock in the afternoon.

  There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive

  Money and order for their furniture.

  The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

  And either we or they must lower lie. Exit

  SIR JOHN

  Rare words I Brave world! (Calling) Hostess, my

  breakfast, come!—

  O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! Exit

  4.1 Enter Hotspur and the Earls of,Worcester and Douglas

  HOTSPUR

  Well said, my noble Scot ! If speaking truth

  In this fine age were not thought flattery,

  Such attribution should the Douglas have

  As not a soldier of this season’s stamp

  Should go so general current through the world.

  By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy

  The tongues of soothers, but a braver place

  In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself.

  Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

  DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour.

  No man so potent breathes upon the ground

  But I will beard him.

  HOTSPUR Do so, and ’tis well.

  Enter a Messenger with letters

  What letters hast thou there? I can but thank you.

  MESSENGER These letters come from your father.

  HOTSPUR

  Letters from him? Why comes he not himself? 15

  MESSENGER

  He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.

  HOTSPUR

  Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick

  In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

  Under whose government come they along?

  MESSENGER

  His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.

  Hotspur reads the letter

  WORCESTER

  I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

  MESSENGER

  He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

  And at the time of my departure thence

  He was much feared by his physicians.

  WORCESTER

  I would the state of time had first been whole

  Ere he by sickness had been visited.

  His health was never better worth than now.

  HOTSPUR

  Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

  The very life-blood of our enterprise.

  ’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

  He writes me here that inward sickness stays him,

  And that his friends by deputation

  Could not so soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet

  To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

  On any soul removed but on his own.

  Yet doth he give us bold advertisement

  That with our small conjunction we should on,

  To see how fortune is disposed to us;

  For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

  Because the King is certainly possessed 40

  Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

  WORCESTER

  Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.

  HOTSPUR

  A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.

  And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

  Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

  To set the exact wealth of all our states

  All at one cast, to set so rich a main

  On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

  It were not good, for therein should we read

  The very bottom and the sole of hope,

  The very list, the very utmost bound,

  Of all our fortunes.

  DOUGLAS

  Faith, and so we should, where now remains

  A sweet reversion—we may boldly spend

  Upon the hope of what is to come in.

  A comfort of retirement lives in this.

  HOTSPUR

  A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

  If that the devil and mischance look big

  Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

  WORCESTER

  But yet I would your father had been here. 60

  The quality and hair of our attempt

  Brooks no division. It will be thought

  By some that know not why he is away

  That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

  Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence;

  And think how such an apprehension

  May turn the tide of fearful faction,

  And breed a kind of question in our cause.

  For, well you know, we of the off’ring side

  Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,

  And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

  The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

  This absence of your father’s draws a curtain

  That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

  Before not dreamt of.

  HOTSPUR You strain too far.

  I rather of his absence make this use:

  It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,

  A larger dare to our great enterprise,

  Than if the Earl were here; for men must think

  If we without his help can make a head 80

  To push against a kingdom, with his help

  We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.

  Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

  DOUGLAS

  As heart can think, there is not such a word

  Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

  Enter Sir Richard Vernon

  HOTSPUR

  My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!

  VERNON

  Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.

  The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

  Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

  HOTSPUR

  No harm. What more?

  VERNON And further I have learned

  The King himself in person is set forth,

  Or hitherwards intended speedily,

  With strong and mighty preparation.

  HOTSPUR

  He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

  The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

  And his comrades that daffed the world aside

  And bid it pass?

  VERNON All furnished, all in arms,

  All plumed like ostriches, that with the wind

  ⌈ ⌉

  Baiting like eagles having lately bathed,

  Glittering in golden coats like images,

&nbs
p; As full of spirit as the month of May,

  And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;

  Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

  I saw young Harry with his beaver on, 105

  His cuishes on his thighs, gallantly armed,

  Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,

  And vaulted with such ease into his seat

  As if an angel dropped down from the clouds

  To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, 110

  And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

  HOTSPUR

  No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,

  This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come!

  They come like sacrifices in their trim,

  And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war 115

  All hot and bleeding will we offer them.

  The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit

  Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

  To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

  And yet not ours! Come, let me taste my horse,

  Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

  Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.

  Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

  Meet and ne’er part till one drop down a corpse.

  O, that Glyndwr were come!

  VERNON There is more news.

  I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,

  He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

  DOUGLAS

  That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

  WORCESTER

  Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

  HOTSPUR

  What may the King’s whole battle reach unto?

  VERNON

  To thirty thousand.

  HOTSPUR Forty let it be.

  My father and Glyndŵr being both away,

  The powers of us may serve so great a day.

  Come, let us take a muster speedily.

  Doomsday is near: die all, die merrily.

  DOUGLAS

  Talk not of dying; I am out of fear

  Of death or death’s hand for this one half year.