Henry IV, Part II

mock us. Is your master here in London? Bardolph Yea, my lord. Prince Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? Bardolph At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. Prince What company? Page Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. Prince Sup any women with him? Page None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet. Prince What pagan may that be? Page A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master’s. Prince Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? Poins I am your shadow, my lord; I’ll follow you. Prince Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that I am yet come to town: there’s for your silence. Bardolph I have no tongue, sir. Page And for mine, sir, I will govern it. Prince Fare you well; go. Exeunt Bardolph and Page. This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. Poins I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban’s and London. Prince How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? Poins Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at his table as drawers. Prince From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was Jove’s case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be mine; for in every thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. Exeunt.

Scene III

Warkworth. Before the castle.

	Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and Lady Percy.
Northumberland	I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, Give even way unto my rough affairs: Put not you on the visage of the times And be like them to Percy troublesome.
Lady Northumberland	I have given over, I will speak no more: Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
Northumberland	Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.
Lady Percy	O yet, for God’s sake, go not to these wars! The time was, father, that you broke your word, When you were more endear’d to it than now; When your own Percy, when my heart’s dear Harry, Threw many a northward look to see his father Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. Who then persuaded you to stay at home? There were two honours lost, yours and your son’s. For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! For his, it stuck upon him as the sun In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light Did all the chivalry of England move To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: He had no legs that practised not his gait; And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, Became the accents of the valiant; For those that could speak low and tardily Would turn their own perfection to abuse, To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, In diet, in affections of delight, In military rules, humours of blood, He was the mark and glass, copy and book, That fashion’d others. And him, O wondrous him! O miracle of men! him did you leave, Second to none, unseconded by you, To look upon the hideous god of war In disadvantage; to abide a field Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur’s name Did seem defensible: so you left him. Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong To hold your honour more precise and nice With others than with him! let them alone: The marshal and the archbishop are strong: Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur’s neck, Have talk’d of Monmouth’s grave.
Northumberland	Beshrew your heart, Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me With new lamenting ancient oversights. But I must go and meet with danger there, Or it will seek me in another place And find me worse provided.
Lady Northumberland	O, fly to Scotland, Till that the nobles and the armed commons Have of their puissance made a little taste.
Lady Percy	If they get ground and vantage of the king, Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, First let them try themselves. So did your son; He was so suffer’d: so came I a widow; And never shall have length of life enough To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, For recordation to my noble husband.
Northumberland	Come, come, go in with me. ’Tis with my mind As with the tide swell’d up unto his height, That makes a still-stand, running neither way: Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, But many thousand reasons hold me back. I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt.

Scene IV

London. The Boar’s-head Tavern in Eastcheap.

	Enter two Drawers.
First Drawer	What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
Second Drawer	Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said “I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.” It angered him to the heart: but he hath forgot that.
First Drawer	Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if thou canst find out Sneak’s noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the room where they supped is too hot; they’ll come in straight.
Second Drawer	Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph hath brought word.
First Drawer	By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an excellent stratagem.
Second Drawer	I’ll see if I can find out Sneak. Exit.
	Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet.
Hostess	I’ faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good truth, la! But, i’ faith, you have drunk too much canaries; and that’s