Prince Hal.
I am not yet of Percies mind, the Hotspurre
of the North, he that killes me some sixe or seauen
dozen of Scots at a Breakfast, washes his hands, and saies
to his wife;
Prince Hal.
Fie vpon this quiet life, I want worke.
Prince Hal.
O my
sweet Harry sayes she, how many hast thou kill'd to day?
Giue my Roane horse a drench (sayes hee) and answeres,
some fourteene, an houre after: a trifle, a trifle.
Prince Hal.
I prethee
call in Falstaffe, Ile play Percy, and that damn'd Brawne
shall play Dame Mortimer his wife. Riuo, sayes the drunkard.
Call in Ribs, call in Tallow.
Falstaffe.
There's villanous Newes abroad: heere was Sir Iohn
Braby from your Father; you must goe to the Court in
the Morning.
Falstaffe.
The same mad fellow of the North, Percy;
and hee of Wales, that gaue Amamon the Bastinado,
and made Lucifer Cuckold, and swore the Deuill his true
Liege-man vpon the Crosse of a Welch-hooke; what a
plague call you him?
Pointz.
O, Glendower.
Falstaffe.
Owen, Owen; the same, and his Sonne in Law
Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and the sprightly
Scot of Scots, Dowglas, that runnes a Horse-backe vp a
Hill perpendicular.
Prince Hal.
Hee that rides at high speede, and with a Pistoll
kills a Sparrow flying.
Falstaffe.
You haue hit it.
Prince Hal.
So did he neuer the Sparrow.
Falstaffe.
Well, thou wilt be horrible chidde to morrow,
when thou commest to thy Father: if thou doe loue me,
practise an answere.
Prince Hal.
Doe thou stand for my Father, and examine mee
vpon the particulars of my Life.
Falstaffe.
Shall I? content: This Chayre shall bee my
State, this Dagger my Scepter, and this Cushion my
Crowne.
Prince Hal.
Thy State is taken for a Ioyn'd-Stoole, thy Golden
Scepter for a Leaden Dagger, and thy precious rich
Crowne, for a pittifull bald Crowne.
Falstaffe.
Well, and the fire of Grace be not quite out of
thee, now shalt thou be moued.
Falstaffe.
Giue me a Cup of Sacke...
Falstaffe.
...to make mine eyes looke redde, that it may be thought I
haue wept,
Falstaffe.
...for I must speake in passion, and I will doe it
in King Cambyses vaine.
Prince Hal.
Well, heere is my Legge.
Falstaffe.
And heere is my speech: stand aside Nobilitie.
Hostesse.
This is excellent sport, yfaith.
Falstaffe.
Weepe not, sweet Queene, for trickling teares
are vaine.