Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How
now, my sweet creature of bombast! How long is't 
ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
FALSTAFF: My own knee! when I was about thy
years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I
could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a
plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a 
bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was Sir
John Bracy from your father; you must to the court
in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north,
Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the
bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the 
devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh
hook-- what a plague call you him?
POINS: Owen Glendower.
FALSTAFF: Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-
law Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that 
sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback
up a hill perpendicular,--
PRINCE HENRY: He that rides at high speed and with his pistol
kills a sparrow flying.
FALSTAFF: You have hit it. 
PRINCE HENRY: So did he never the sparrow.
FALSTAFF: Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him;
he will not run.
PRINCE HENRY: Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise
him so for running! 
FALSTAFF: O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will
not budge a foot.
PRINCE HENRY: Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
FALSTAFF: I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there
too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: 
Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's beard is
turned white with the news: you may buy land now as
cheap as stinking mackerel.
PRINCE HENRY: Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June
and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads 
as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.
FALSTAFF: By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like
we shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,
art not thou horrible afeard? thou being heir-apparent,
could the world pick thee out three such enemies again 
as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil
Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not
thy blood thrill at it?
PRINCE HENRY: Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.
FALSTAFF: Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow 
when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me,
practise an answer.
PRINCE HENRY: Do thou stand for my father, and examine me
upon the particulars of my life.
FALSTAFF: Shall I? content: this chair shall be my 
state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my
PRINCE HENRY: Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy
golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious
rich crown for a pitiful bald crown! 
FALSTAFF: Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out
of thee, now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of
sack to make my eyes look red, that it may be thought
I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do
it in King Cambyses' vein. 
PRINCE HENRY: Well, here is my leg.
FALSTAFF: And here is my speech. Stand aside,
Hostess: O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
FALSTAFF: Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. 
Hostess: O, the father, how he holds his counte-
FALSTAFF: For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;
For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
Hostess: O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these 
harlotry players as ever I see!
FALSTAFF: Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle
-brain. Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest
thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for
though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the 
faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the
sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly
thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, but
chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a foolish-
hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If 
then thou be son to me, here lies the point; why,
being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the
blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat black-
berries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son
of England prove a thief and take purses? a question 
to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast
often heard of and it is known to many in our land by
the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do
report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest:
for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink but in 
tears, not in pleasure but in passion, not in words only,
but in woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom
I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his
PRINCE HENRY: What manner of man, an it like your 
FALSTAFF: A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpu-
lent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most
noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or,
by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I re- 
member me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should
be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see
virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by
the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily
I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep 
with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty
varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?
PRINCE HENRY: Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand
for me, and I'll play my father.
FALSTAFF: Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, 
so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up
by the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare.
PRINCE HENRY: Well, here I am set.
FALSTAFF: And here I stand: judge, my masters.
PRINCE HENRY: Now, Harry, whence come you? 
FALSTAFF: My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
PRINCE HENRY: The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
FALSTAFF: 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll
tickle ye for a young prince, i' faith.
PRINCE HENRY: Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth 
ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away
from grace: there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness
of an old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion.
Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours,
that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel 
of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed
cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manning-tree ox with
the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey
iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years?
Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? 
wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and
eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein
crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all
things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?
FALSTAFF: I would your grace would take me with 
you: whom means your grace?
PRINCE HENRY: That villanous abominable misleader of
youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
FALSTAFF: My lord, the man I know.
PRINCE HENRY: I know thou dost. 
FALSTAFF: But to say I know more harm in him than
in myself, were to say more than I know. That he is
old, the more the pity, his white hairs do witness it;
but that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster,
that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God 
help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a sin, then
many an old host that I know is damned: if to be fat
be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be
loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish
Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff, 
kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff,
and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack
Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish
not him thy Harry's company: banish plump Jack, and
banish all the world. 
PRINCE HENRY: I do, I will.
[A knocking heard.]
[Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH.]
Re-enter BARDOLPH, running.
BARDOLPH: O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a
most monstrous watch is at the door.
FALSTAFF: Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have
much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. 
Re-enter the Hostess.
Hostess: O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
PRINCE HENRY: Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddle-
stick: what's the matter?
Hostess: The sheriff and all the watch are at the door:
they are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? 
FALSTAFF: Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true
piece of gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad,
without seeming so.
PRINCE HENRY: And thou a natural coward, without instinct.
FALSTAFF: I deny your major: if you will deny the 
sheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart
as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up!
I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as
PRINCE HENRY: Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk 
up above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good
FALSTAFF: Both which I have had: but their date is
out, and therefore I'll hide me.
PRINCE HENRY: Call in the sheriff. [Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO.]
Enter Sheriff and the Carrier.
Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me?
Sheriff: First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
PRINCE HENRY: What men?
Sheriff: One of them is well known, my gracious lord, 
A gross fat man.