Did I ever ask you to pay for any of it?

  FALSTAFF

  No. I’ve got to admit, you’ve settled with her all by yourself.

  PRINCE HENRY

  And not just with her, but wherever my cash was good. And when I ran out, I switched to credit.

  FALSTAFF

  And you’ve stretched that so far that if it weren’t “here apparent” that you’re the “heir apparent,” your credit wouldn’t be worth a thing. But listen, pretty boy. Will England still have hangmen when you’re king? And will a thief’s courage still be thwarted by that nasty old clown, the law? When you’re king, don’t hang thieves.

  PRINCE HENRY

  No. You will.

  FALSTAFF

  I will? Excellent! By God, I’ll be a great judge.

  PRINCE HENRY

  You’ve judged wrong already. I mean, you’ll be in charge of hanging thieves, and become a superb hangman.

  FALSTAFF

  All right, Hal. I’ll tell you this: in a way, being a hangman agrees with me just as well as hanging around the court.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Waiting to get your suits granted?

  FALSTAFF

  Exactly. I’ve got plenty of those, just like the hangman has plenty of suits—the suits he takes off the dead men he hangs.—Damn, I’m as depressed as a tomcat or a dancing bear in chains.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Or an old lion, or a guitar playing a sad lovesong.

  FALSTAFF

  Or the wailing of a bagpipe.

  PRINCE HENRY

  How about a rabbit, or a trip to Moorditch?

  FALSTAFF

  You have a knack for foul images. You are the most metaphorical and rascally, sweet young Prince. But Hal, please stop corrupting me with frivolous matters. I wish to God that you and I knew where we could buy a supply of good reputations. The other day, an elderly lord on the King’s Council came up to me in the street and lectured me about you, but I didn’t pay any attention. He spoke wisely, but I ignored him. But he made sense, and in the street, too.

  PRINCE HENRY

  You did well. You know the scripture: “Wisdom cries out in the street but no man listens.”

  FALSTAFF

  Oh, you have a wicked talent for wrongly quoting scripture, you really could corrupt a saint. You’ve deeply harmed me, Hal, and God forgive you for it! Before I met you, I was innocent. And now, if I can speak truly, I’m no better than a sinner. I’ve got to change my life, and I will change my life, by God. If I don’t, I’m an evildoer. I won’t be damned, not for any king’s son in the universe.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Where should we go stealing tomorrow, Jack?

  FALSTAFF

  For God’s sake, wherever you want, boy. I’ll be one of the gang. If I’m not, call me evildoer and string me up.

  PRINCE HENRY

  I see you’ve changed your life, alright. From praying to pursesnatching.

  FALSTAFF

  It’s my calling, Hal. It’s no sin for a man to follow his calling.

  POINS enters.

  Poins! Now we’ll find out whether Mr. Gadshill has planned a robbery. If good deeds bring a man to heaven, there’s no hell hot enough for Poins. This is the most incredible villain, whoever said “Stick ’em up!” to an honest man.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Morning, Ned.

  POINS

  Morning, sweet Hal. What’s Mr. Feelbad got to say? What’s going on, Sir John, Wino Jack? How’s your deal with the devil coming along? You sold him your soul last Good Friday for some cold chicken and a glass of cheap wine, right?

  PRINCE HENRY

  The devil will get what’s coming to him. Sir John’s a man of his word, and he never disagrees with a proverb. He will “give the devil his due.”

  POINS

  (to FALSTAFF) Then you’re damned for keeping your word with the devil.

  PRINCE HENRY

  His only other choice is to be damned for cheating the devil.

  POINS

  But boys, boys! Four o’clock tomorrow morning some pilgrims are going to pass by Gad’s Hill. They’ll be on their way to Canterbury Cathedral with expensive offerings, and traders will be heading to London with bags of money. I’ve got masks for you, you’ve got horses for yourselves. Mr. Gadshill is spending tonight in Rochester, and I’ve already ordered tomorrow night’s dinner in Eastcheap. We could do this in our sleep. If you come, I’ll make you rich. If not, stay home and hang yourselves.

  FALSTAFF

  Listen, Yedward. If I stay home and don’t go, I’ll hang you — for going.

  POINS

  You will, fatface?

  FALSTAFF

  Hal, are you in?

  PRINCE HENRY

  Who? Me, a robber? Me, a thief? Not me. No way.

  FALSTAFF

  If you don’t dare to fight for ten shillings, there’s no honesty, manhood, or friendship in you, and you never came from royal blood.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Well, okay. For once in my life, I’ll be a little crazy.

  FALSTAFF

  There you go.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Well, you know what? I’ll stay home.

  FALSTAFF

  By God, then I’ll be a traitor when you become king.

  PRINCE HENRY

  I don’t care.

  POINS

  Sir John, do me a favor: leave me and the Prince alone. I’ll spell out such good reasons for this adventure, he’s sure to join.

  FALSTAFF

  May God give you the power of persuasion and him the good sense to listen, so that what you say will affect him and what he hears will sink in. This way, the true prince will turn into false thief, just for laughs. After all, all the poor, little vices of the age need encouragement. So long; you’ll find me in Eastcheap.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Farewell, you second spring! Farewell, you summer-in-November!

  FALSTAFF exits.

  POINS

  Now, my good sweet honey sir, come with us tomorrow. I have an idea for a practical joke, and I can’t do it by myself. Falstaff, Peto, Bardolph, and Mr. Gadshill will rob the travelers we’re planning to ambush, but you and I won’t be there. If you and I don’t rob them once they have the loot, then chop off my head!

  PRINCE HENRY

  But we’re all planning to leave together. How will you and I separate ourselves?

  POINS

  We’ll leave before them, or after them. We’ll tell them to meet us someplace, but then we won’t show up. They’ll pull off the robbery by themselves, and the second they’ve done it, we’ll attack them.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Sure, but they’ll recognize our horses, our clothes, and all our other things.

  POINS

  Psh! They won’t see our horses, because I’ll tie them in the forest. We’ll put on new masks after we leave them. And, just for this occasion, I’ve made cloaks out of rough buckram cloth, to cover our regular clothes.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Okay. But I’m afraid they’ll be too tough for us.

  POINS

  Well, I know that two of them are the biggest cowards who ever turned and ran. As for the third, if he fights even a second longer than is absolutely necessary, I promise to never fight again. The best part about this joke will be listening to the outlandish lies this fat clown will tell when we meet for dinner—how he fought at least thirty men, how he defended himself, how he got hit, what he endured. The funniest part will be when we call him on it.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Okay. I’ll go. Get everything together and meet me in Eastcheap tomorrow. I’ll eat there. Farewell.

  POINS

  Farewell, my lord.

  POINS exits.

  PRINCE HENRY

  I understand all of you. For now, I’ll put on the rowdy behavior of your good-for-nothing ways. But in this way, I’ll be like the sun, who allows the vulgar, corrupting clouds to hide his beauty from the world. Then, when the sun wants to be himself again, he breaks through the foul mists and vapors that seemed to be strangling him.

  And because people have missed him so much, they are that much more impressed when he finally appears. If every day were a vacation, playing would grow as tedious as working. But when it’s rare, it’s looked forward to. Nothing is as precious as the unexpected occurrence. So when I throw off this wild behavior and accept the responsibilities of being king—a destiny I didn’t choose but was born into—I’ll suddenly seem like a far better man. In this way, I’ll give everyone the wrong expectation of me. Like a bright metal on a dark background, my reformation will shine even more brilliantly when it’s set against my wicked past. I’ll be so wild, I’ll make wildness an art form, then redeem myself when the world least expects me to.

  He exits.

  ACT 1, SCENE 3

  Original Text

  Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, Sir Walter BLUNT, with others

  KING

  My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

  Unapt to stir at these indignities,

  And you have found me, for accordingly

  You tread upon my patience. But be sure

  5

  I will from henceforth rather be myself,

  Mighty and to be feared, than my condition,

  Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

  And therefore lost that title of respect

  Which the proud soul ne’er pays but to the proud.

  WORCESTER

  10

  Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves

  The scourge of greatness to be used on it,

  And that same greatness too which our own hands

  Have holp to make so portly.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  My lord—

  KING

  Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see

  15

  Danger and disobedience in thine eye.

  O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,

  And majesty might never yet endure

  The moody frontier of a servant brow.

  You have good leave to leave us. When we need

  20

  Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.

  Exit WORCESTER

  (to NORTHUMBERLAND) You were about to speak.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  Yea, my good lord.

  Those prisoners in your Highness’ name demanded,

  Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

  Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

  25

  As is delivered to your Majesty:

  Either envy, therefore, or misprison

  Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

  HOTSPUR

  My liege, I did deny no prisoners.

  But I remember, when the fight was done,

  30

  When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,

  Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

  Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dressed,

  Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped

  Showed like a stubble land at harvest home.

  35

  He was perfumèd like a milliner,

  And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held

  A pouncet box, which ever and anon

  He gave his nose and took ’t away again,

  Who therewith angry, when it next came there,

  40

  Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked.

  And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

  He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,

  To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse

  Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

  45

  With many holiday and lady terms

  He questioned me; amongst the rest demanded

  My prisoners in your Majesty’s behalf.

  I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

  To be so pestered with a popinjay,

  50

  Out of my grief and my impatience

  Answered neglectingly I know not what—

  He should, or he should not; for he made me mad

  To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet

  And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman

  55

  Of guns, and drums, and wounds—God save the mark!—

  And telling me the sovereignest thing on earth

  Was parmacety for an inward bruise,

  And that it was great pity, so it was,

  This villanous saltpeter should be digged

  60

  Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

  Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed

  So cowardly, and but for these vile guns

  He would himself have been a soldier.

  This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,

  65

  I answered indirectly, as I said,

  And I beseech you, let not his report

  Come current for an accusation

  Betwixt my love and your high Majesty.

  BLUNT

  The circumstance considered, good my lord,

  70

  Whate’er Lord Harry Percy then had said

  To such a person and in such a place,

  At such a time, with all the rest retold,

  May reasonably die and never rise

  To do him wrong or any way impeach

  75

  What then he said, so he unsay it now.

  KING

  Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,

  But with proviso and exception

  That we at our own charge shall ransom straight

  His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer,

  80

  Who, on my soul, hath willfully betrayed

  The lives of those that he did lead to fight

  Against that great magician, damned Glendower,

  Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March

  Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then

  85

  Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?

  Shall we buy treason and indent with fears

  When they have lost and forfeited themselves?

  No, on the barren mountains let him starve,

  For I shall never hold that man my friend

  90

  Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost

  To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

  HOTSPUR

  Revolted Mortimer!

  He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

  But by the chance of war. To prove that true

  95

  Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,

  Those mouthèd wounds, which valiantly he took

  When on the gentle Severn’s sedgy bank

  In single opposition hand to hand

  He did confound the best part of an hour

  100

  In changing hardiment with great Glendower.

  Three times they breathed, and three times did they drink,

  Upon agreement, of swift Severn’s flood,

  Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

  Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds

  105

  And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,

  Bloodstainèd with these valiant combatants.

  Never did bare and rotten policy

  Color her working with such deadly wounds,

  Nor could the noble Mortimer

  110

  Receive so many, and all willingly.

  Then let not him be slandered with revolt.

  KING

  Thou dost

  belie him, Percy; thou dost belie him.

  He never did encounter with Glendower.

  I tell thee, he durst as well have met the devil alone

  115

  As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

  Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth

  Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.

  Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,

  Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

  120

  As will displease you.—My lord Northumberland,

  We license your departure with your son.—

  Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.

  Exit KING Henry, BLUNT, and train

  HOTSPUR

  An if the devil come and roar for them,

  I will not send them. I will after straight

  125

  And tell him so, for I will ease my heart,

  Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile.

  Here comes your uncle.

  Enter WORCESTER

  HOTSPUR

  Speak of Mortimer?

  Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul

  130

  Want mercy if I do not join with him.

  Yea, on his part I’ll empty all these veins

  And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,

  But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer

  As high in the air as this unthankful King,

  135

  As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  (to WORCESTER) Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad.

  WORCESTER

  Who struck this heat up after I was gone?

  HOTSPUR

  He will forsooth have all my prisoners,

  And when I urged the ransom once again

  140

  Of my wife’s brother, then his cheek looked pale,

  And on my face he turned an eye of death,

  Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

  WORCESTER

  I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaimed

  By Richard, that dead is, the next of blood?

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  145

  He was; I heard the proclamation.

  And then it was when the unhappy King—

  Whose wrongs in us God pardon!—did set forth

  Upon his Irish expedition;

  From whence he, intercepted, did return

  150

  To be deposed and shortly murderèd.

  WORCESTER

  And for whose death we in the world’s wide mouth

  Live scandalized and foully spoken of.

  HOTSPUR

  But soft, I pray you. Did King Richard then

  Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer

  155

  Heir to the crown?

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  He did; myself did hear it.

  HOTSPUR

  Nay then, I cannot blame his cousin King