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

The First Part of Henry the Fourth Page 04

William Shakespeare Plays

Free Books in the public domain from the Classic Literature Library ©

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

All Pages of This Book
The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight
The First Part of Henry the Fourth
The first Part of Henry the Sixt
The Life of Henry the Fift
The Second Part of Henry the Fourth
The second Part of Henry the Sixt
The third Part of Henry the Sixt