King Henry IV - William Hazlitt

Скачать книгу

I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir

       About his title, and hath sent for you

       To line his enterprise: but if you go,—

      HOT.

       So far a-foot, I shall be weary, love.

      LADY.

       Come, come, you paraquito, answer me

       Directly to this question that I ask:

       In faith, I’ll break thy little finger, Harry,

       An if thou wilt not tell me true.

      HOT.

       Away,

       Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not,

       I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world

       To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:

       We must have bloody noses and crack’d crowns,

       And pass them current too.—Gods me, my horse!—

       What say’st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have with me?

      LADY.

       Do you not love me? do you not indeed?

       Well, do not, then; for, since you love me not,

       I will not love myself. Do you not love me?

       Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

      HOT.

       Come, wilt thou see me ride?

       And when I am o’ horseback, I will swear

       I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;

       I must not have you henceforth question me

       Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:

       Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,

       This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.

       I know you wise; but yet no further wise

       Than Harry Percy’s wife; constant you are;

       But yet a woman: and, for secrecy,

       No lady closer; for I well believe

       Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;

       And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

      LADY.

       How! so far?

      HOT.

       Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:

       Whither I go, thither shall you go too;

       To-day will I set forth, tomorrow you.

       Will this content you, Kate?

      LADY.

       It must of force.

      [Exeunt.]

      SCENE IV.

       Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar’s-Head Tavern.

       Table of Contents

      [Enter Prince Henry.]

      PRINCE. Ned, pr’ythee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little.

      [Enter Pointz.]

      POINTZ.

       Where hast been, Hal?

      PRINCE. With three or four loggerheads amongst three or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their Christian names, as, Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff, but a corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy,—by the Lord, so they call me;—and, when I am King of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dying scarlet; and, when you breathe in your watering, they cry hem! and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned,—to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp’d even now into my hand by an under-skinker; one that never spake other English in his life than Eight shillings and sixpence, and You are welcome; with this shrill addition, Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon,—or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I pr’ythee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling Francis! that his tale to me may be nothing but Anon. Step aside, and I’ll show thee a precedent.

      [Exit Pointz.]

      POINTZ.

       [Within.] Francis!

      PRINCE.

       Thou art perfect.

      POINTZ.

       [Within.] Francis!

      [Enter Francis.]

      FRAN.

       Anon, anon, sir.—Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph.

      PRINCE.

       Come hither, Francis.

      FRAN.

       My lord?

      PRINCE.

       How long hast thou to serve, Francis?

      FRAN.

       Forsooth, five years, and as much as to—

      POINTZ. [within.] Francis!

      FRAN.

       Anon, anon, sir.

      PRINCE. Five year! by’r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels and run from it?

      FRAN.

       O Lord, sir, I’ll be sworn upon all the books in England,

       I could find in my heart—

      POINTZ. [within.] Francis!

      FRAN.

       Anon, anon, sir.

      PRINCE.

       How old art thou, Francis?

      FRAN.

       Let me see,—about Michaelmas next I shall be—

      POINTZ. [within.] Francis!

      FRAN.

       Anon, sir.—Pray you, stay a little, my lord.

      PRINCE. Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou gavest me, ‘twas a pennyworth, was’t not?

      FRAN.

       O Lord, sir, I would it had been two!

      PRINCE. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

      POINTZ. [within.] Francis!

      FRAN.

       Anon, anon.

      PRINCE.

       Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but tomorrow, Francis; or,

       Francis, a Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But,

       Francis,—

      FRAN.

       My lord?

      PRINCE. —wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,—

      FRAN.

       O Lord, sir, who do you mean?

      PRINCE.

       Why, then, your brown bastard is your only

Скачать книгу