prompt:
Chapter: Scaena Secunda.

Enter Henry Prince of Wales, Sir Iohn Falstaffe, and Pointz.

  Fal. Now Hal, what time of day is it Lad?
  Prince. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of olde
Sacke, and vnbuttoning thee after Supper, and sleeping
vpon Benches in the afternoone, that thou hast forgotten
to demand that truely, which thou wouldest truly know.
What a diuell hast thou to do with the time of the day?
vnlesse houres were cups of Sacke, and minutes Capons,
and clockes the tongues of Bawdes, and dialls the signes
of Leaping-houses, and the blessed Sunne himselfe a faire
hot Wench in Flame-coloured Taffata; I see no reason,
why thou shouldest bee so superfluous, to demaund the
time of the day

   Fal. Indeed you come neere me now Hal, for we that
take Purses, go by the Moone and seuen Starres, and not
by Phoebus hee, that wand'ring Knight so faire. And I
prythee sweet Wagge, when thou art King, as God saue
thy Grace, Maiesty I should say, for Grace thou wilte
haue none

   Prin. What, none?
  Fal. No, not so much as will serue to be Prologue to
an Egge and Butter

   Prin. Well, how then? Come roundly, roundly

   Fal. Marry then, sweet Wagge, when thou art King,
let not vs that are Squires of the Nights bodie, bee call'd
Theeues of the Dayes beautie. Let vs be Dianaes Forresters,
Gentlemen of the Shade, Minions of the Moone;
and let men say, we be men of good Gouernment, being
gouerned as the Sea, by our noble and chast mistris the
Moone, vnder whose countenance we steale

   Prin. Thou say'st well, and it holds well too: for the
fortune of vs that are the Moones men, doeth ebbe and
flow like the Sea, beeing gouerned as the Sea is, by the
Moone: as for proofe. Now a Purse of Gold most resolutely
snatch'd on Monday night, and most dissolutely
spent on Tuesday Morning; got with swearing, Lay by:
and spent with crying, Bring in: now, in as low an ebbe
as the foot of the Ladder, and by and by in as high a flow
as the ridge of the Gallowes

   Fal. Thou say'st true Lad: and is not my Hostesse of
the Tauerne a most sweet Wench?
  Prin. As is the hony, my old Lad of the Castle: and is
not a Buffe Ierkin a most sweet robe of durance?
  Fal. How now? how now mad Wagge? What in thy
quips and thy quiddities? What a plague haue I to doe
with a Buffe-Ierkin?
  Prin. Why, what a poxe haue I to doe with my Hostesse
of the Tauerne?
  Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reck'ning many a
time and oft

   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

   Fal. Heare ye Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not,
Ile hang you for going

   Poy. You will chops

   Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?
  Prin. Who, I rob? I a Theefe? Not I

   Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship
in thee, nor thou cam'st not of the blood-royall,
if thou dar'st not stand for ten shillings

   Prin. Well then, once in my dayes Ile be a mad-cap

   Fal. Why, that's well said

   Prin. Well, come what will, Ile tarry at home

   Fal. Ile be a Traitor then, when thou art King

   Prin. I care not

   Poyn. Sir Iohn, I prythee leaue the Prince & me alone,
I will lay him downe such reasons for this aduenture, that
he shall go

   Fal. Well, maist thou haue the Spirit of perswasion;
and he the eares of profiting, that what thou speakest,
may moue; and what he heares may be beleeued, that the
true Prince, may (for recreation sake) proue a false theefe;
for the poore abuses of the time, want countenance. Farwell,
you shall finde me in Eastcheape

   Prin. Farwell the latter Spring. Farewell Alhollown
Summer

   Poy. Now, my good sweet Hony Lord, ride with vs
to morrow. I haue a iest to execute, that I cannot mannage
alone. Falstaffe, Haruey, Rossill, and Gads-hill, shall
robbe those men that wee haue already way-layde, your
selfe and I, wil not be there: and when they haue the booty,
if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my
shoulders

   Prin. But how shal we part with them in setting forth?
  Poyn. Why, we wil set forth before or after them, and
appoint them a place of meeting, wherin it is at our pleasure
to faile; and then will they aduenture vppon the exploit
themselues, which they shall haue no sooner atchieued,
but wee'l set vpon them

   Prin. I, but tis like that they will know vs by our
horses, by our habits, and by euery other appointment to
be our selues

   Poy. Tut our horses they shall not see, Ile tye them in
the wood, our vizards wee will change after wee leaue
them: and sirrah, I haue Cases of Buckram for the nonce,
to immaske our noted outward garments

   Prin. But I doubt they will be too hard for vs

   Poin. Well, for two of them, I know them to bee as
true bred Cowards as euer turn'd backe: and for the third
if he fight longer then he sees reason, Ile forswear Armes.
The vertue of this Iest will be, the incomprehensible lyes
that this fat Rogue will tell vs, when we meete at Supper:
how thirty at least he fought with, what Wardes, what
blowes, what extremities he endured; and in the reproofe
of this, lyes the iest

   Prin. Well, Ile goe with thee, prouide vs all things
necessary, and meete me to morrow night in Eastcheape,
there Ile sup. Farewell

   Poyn. Farewell, my Lord.

Exit Pointz

  Prin. I know you all, and will a-while vphold
The vnyoak'd humor of your idlenesse:
Yet heerein will I imitate the Sunne,
Who doth permit the base contagious cloudes
To smother vp his Beauty from the world,
That when he please againe to be himselfe,
Being wanted, he may be more wondred at,
By breaking through the foule and vgly mists
Of vapours, that did seeme to strangle him.
If all the yeare were playing holidaies,
To sport, would be as tedious as to worke;
But when they seldome come, they wisht-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behauiour I throw off,
And pay the debt I neuer promised;
By how much better then my word I am,
By so much shall I falsifie mens hopes,
And like bright Mettall on a sullen ground:
My reformation glittering o're my fault,
Shall shew more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Then that which hath no foyle to set it off.
Ile so offend, to make offence a skill,
Redeeming time, when men thinke least I will.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Prince Hal and his pal Sir John Falstaff indulge in some good-natured banter at the Prince's lodging in London. The Prince ribs Falstaff about being lazy, drinking too much and hanging out at brothels. Falstaff takes it all in good humor. He acknowledges he is a thief, and says he hopes that when Hal is king, Falstaff and his friends will still be allowed to continue their thievery. Hal replies by pointing out in a roundabout way that thieves go to the gallows. Falstaff quickly changes the subject, and tries to engage Hal in a conversation about the hostess of the tavern they frequent. But Hal's earlier remark is still on his mind, because he then asks whether there will still be gallows standing in England when Hal is king. He asks Hal not to hang a thief. When the Prince replies, "No; thou shalt," Falstaff takes this to mean that he will be appointed a judge. But Hal says he meant only that Falstaff could become a hangman. Falstaff seems to like this, since the hangman receives the clothes of the executed man. The two men continue to banter, and it is clear that Falstaff is very fond of this "rascalliest, sweet young prince." He pretends that Hal has corrupted him, when in truth it is probably the other way round. Hal's next remark, inquiring about where they are to commit their next robbery, seems to confirm this. Poins enters, and Falstaff says that now they will know whether Gadshill, one of their little gang, has set up their next robbery. Poins confirms that a robbery has been planned for early the following morning. It is to take place at Gad's Hill, on the road from Rochester to London. Poins says there will be pilgrims going to Canterbury taking expensive offerings for the shrine at Canterbury Cathedral, and also rich traders on their way to London. When he hears this, Falstaff tries to persuade Hal to be a part of the robbery, but the Prince refuses. Poins says he will be able to change the Prince's mind if he can have a word with him in private. Falstaff leaves. The Prince agrees to take part in the escapade after Poins explains that he plans to play a trick on Falstaff and the other robbers, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill. Poins's plan is that he and Prince Hal should not take part in the robbery. But then, after the robbery has been done, they will waylay the robbers and rob them. Poins knows that later on Falstaff will wildly exaggerate about how many men robbed him, and how stoutly he defended himself. Poins and the Prince will then be able to disprove what he says. Poins thinks this will make an excellent joke. After Poins exits, the Prince, in a soliloquy, reveals that he is only going along with his friends from the tavern for a while. Soon he will reform his behavior and prove that the low expectations everyone has of him are wrong. The sudden change in him will attract more notice, and win him more respect in the eyes of others, than if he had never developed a bad reputation in the first place.


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Tertia.

Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspurre, Sir Walter
Blunt,
and others.

  King. My blood hath beene too cold and temperate,
Vnapt to stirre at these indignities,
And you haue found me; for accordingly,
You tread vpon my patience: But be sure,
I will from henceforth rather be my Selfe,
Mighty, and to be fear'd, then my condition
Which hath beene smooth as Oyle, soft as yong Downe,
And therefore lost that Title of respect,
Which the proud soule ne're payes, but to the proud

   Wor. Our house (my Soueraigne Liege) little deserues
The scourge of greatnesse to be vsed on it,
And that same greatnesse too, which our owne hands
Haue holpe to make so portly

   Nor. My Lord

   King. Worcester get thee gone: for I do see
Danger and disobedience in thine eye.
O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
And Maiestie might neuer yet endure
The moody Frontier of a seruant brow,
You haue good leaue to leaue vs. When we need
Your vse and counsell, we shall send for you.
You were about to speake

   North. Yea, my good Lord.
Those Prisoners in your Highnesse demanded,
Which Harry Percy heere at Holmedon tooke,
Were (as he sayes) not with such strength denied
As was deliuered to your Maiesty:
Who either through enuy, or misprision,
Was guilty of this fault; and not my Sonne

   Hot. My Liege, I did deny no Prisoners.
But, I remember when the fight was done,
When I was dry with Rage, and extreame Toyle,
Breathlesse, and Faint, leaning vpon my Sword,
Came there a certaine Lord, neat and trimly drest;
Fresh as a Bride-groome, and his Chin new reapt,
Shew'd like a stubble Land at Haruest home.
He was perfumed like a Milliner,
And 'twixt his Finger and his Thumbe, he held
A Pouncet-box: which euer and anon
He gaue his Nose, and took't away againe:
Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Tooke it in Snuffe. And still he smil'd and talk'd:
And as the Souldiers bare dead bodies by,
He call'd them vntaught Knaues, Vnmannerly,
To bring a slouenly vnhandsome Coarse
Betwixt the Winde, and his Nobility.
With many Holiday and Lady tearme
He question'd me: Among the rest, demanded
My Prisoners, in your Maiesties behalfe.
I then, all-smarting, with my wounds being cold,
(To be so pestered with a Popingay)
Out of my Greefe, and my Impatience,
Answer'd (neglectingly) I know not what,
He should, or should not: For he made me mad,
To see him shine so briske, and smell so sweet,
And talke so like a Waiting-Gentlewoman,
Of Guns, & Drums, and Wounds: God saue the marke;
And telling me, the Soueraign'st thing on earth
Was Parmacity, for an inward bruise:
And that it was great pitty, so it was,
That villanous Salt-peter should be digg'd
Out of the Bowels of the harmlesse Earth,
Which many a good Tall Fellow had destroy'd
So Cowardly. And but for these vile Gunnes,
He would himselfe haue beene a Souldier.
This bald, vnioynted Chat of his (my Lord)
Made me to answer indirectly (as I said.)
And I beseech you, let not this report
Come currant for an Accusation,
Betwixt my Loue, and your high Maiesty

   Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my Lord,
What euer Harry Percie then had said,
To such a person, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably dye, and neuer rise
To do him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he said, so he vnsay it now

   King. Why yet doth deny his Prisoners,
But with Prouiso and Exception,
That we at our owne charge, shall ransome straight
His Brother-in-Law, the foolish Mortimer,
Who (in my soule) hath wilfully betraid
The liues of those, that he did leade to Fight,
Against the great Magitian, damn'd Glendower:
Whose daughter (as we heare) the Earle of March
Hath lately married. Shall our Coffers then,
Be emptied, to redeeme a Traitor home?
Shall we buy Treason? and indent with Feares,
When they haue lost and forfeyted themselues.
No: on the barren Mountaine let him sterue:
For I shall neuer hold that man my Friend,
Whose tongue shall aske me for one peny cost
To ransome home reuolted Mortimer

   Hot. Reuolted Mortimer?
He neuer did fall off, my Soueraigne Liege,
But by the chance of Warre: to proue that true,
Needs no more but one tongue. For all those Wounds,
Those mouthed Wounds, which valiantly he tooke,
When on the gentle Seuernes siedgie banke,
In single Opposition hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an houre
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink
Vpon agreement, of swift Seuernes flood;
Who then affrighted with their bloody lookes,
Ran fearefully among the trembling Reeds,
And hid his crispe-head in the hollow banke,
Blood-stained with these Valiant Combatants.
Neuer did base and rotten Policy
Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor neuer could the Noble Mortimer
Receiue so many, and all willingly:
Then let him not be sland'red with Reuolt

   King. Thou do'st bely him Percy, thou dost bely him;
He neuer did encounter with Glendower:
I tell thee, he durst as well haue met the diuell alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art thou not asham'd? But Sirrah, henceforth
Let me not heare you speake of Mortimer.
Send me your Prisoners with the speediest meanes,
Or you shall heare in such a kinde from me
As will displease ye. My Lord Northumberland,
We License your departure with your sonne,
Send vs your Prisoners, or you'l heare of it.

Exit King.

  Hot. And if the diuell come and roare for them
I will not send them. I will after straight
And tell him so: for I will ease my heart,
Although it be with hazard of my head

   Nor. What? drunke with choller? stay & pause awhile,
Heere comes your Vnckle.
Enter Worcester.

  Hot. Speake of Mortimer?
Yes, I will speake of him, and let my soule
Want mercy, if I do not ioyne with him.
In his behalfe, Ile empty all these Veines,
And shed my deere blood drop by drop i'th dust,
But I will lift the downfall Mortimer
As high i'th Ayre, as this Vnthankfull King,
As this Ingrate and Cankred Bullingbrooke

   Nor. Brother, the King hath made your Nephew mad
  Wor. Who strooke this heate vp after I was gone?
  Hot. He will (forsooth) haue all my Prisoners:
And when I vrg'd the ransom once againe
Of my Wiues Brother, then his cheeke look'd pale,
And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling euen at the name of Mortimer

   Wor. I cannot blame him: was he not proclaim'd
By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?
  Nor. He was: I heard the Proclamation,
And then it was, when the vnhappy King
(Whose wrongs in vs God pardon) did set forth
Vpon his Irish Expedition:
From whence he intercepted, did returne
To be depos'd, and shortly murthered

   Wor. And for whose death, we in the worlds wide mouth
Liue scandaliz'd, and fouly spoken of

   Hot. But soft I pray you; did King Richard then
Proclaime my brother Mortimer,
Heyre to the Crowne?
  Nor. He did, my selfe did heare it

   Hot. Nay then I cannot blame his Cousin King,
That wish'd him on the barren Mountaines staru'd.
But shall it be, that you that set the Crowne
Vpon the head of this forgetfull man,
And for his sake, wore the detested blot
Of murtherous subornation? Shall it be,
That you a world of curses vndergoe,
Being the Agents, or base second meanes,
The Cords, the Ladder, or the Hangman rather?
O pardon, if that I descend so low,
To shew the Line, and the Predicament
Wherein you range vnder this subtill King.
Shall it for shame, be spoken in these dayes,
Or fill vp Chronicles in time to come,
That men of your Nobility and Power,
Did gage them both in an vniust behalfe
(As Both of you, God pardon it, haue done)
To put downe Richard, that sweet louely Rose,
And plant this Thorne, this Canker Bullingbrooke?
And shall it in more shame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and shooke off
By him, for whom these shames ye vnderwent?
No: yet time serues, wherein you may redeeme
Your banish'd Honors, and restore your selues
Into the good Thoughts of the world againe.
Reuenge the geering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud King, who studies day and night
To answer all the Debt he owes vnto you,
Euen with the bloody Payment of your deaths:
Therefore I say-
  Wor. Peace Cousin, say no more.
And now I will vnclaspe a Secret booke,
And to your quicke conceyuing Discontents,
Ile reade you Matter, deepe and dangerous,
As full of perill and aduenturous Spirit,
As to o're-walke a Current, roaring loud
On the vnstedfast footing of a Speare

   Hot. If he fall in, good night, or sinke or swimme:
Send danger from the East vnto the West,
So Honor crosse it from the North to South,
And let them grapple: The blood more stirres
To rowze a Lyon, then to start a Hare

   Nor. Imagination of some great exploit,
Driues him beyond the bounds of Patience

   Hot. By heauen, me thinkes it were an easie leap,
To plucke bright Honor from the pale-fac'd Moone,
Or diue into the bottome of the deepe,
Where Fadome-line could neuer touch the ground,
And plucke vp drowned Honor by the Lockes:
So he that doth redeeme her thence, might weare
Without Co-riuall, all her Dignities:
But out vpon this halfe-fac'd Fellowship

   Wor. He apprehends a World of Figures here,
But not the forme of what he should attend:
Good Cousin giue me audience for a-while,
And list to me

   Hot. I cry you mercy

   Wor. Those same Noble Scottes
That are your Prisoners

   Hot. Ile keepe them all.
By heauen, he shall not haue a Scot of them:
No, if a Scot would saue his Soule, he shall not.
Ile keepe them, by this Hand

   Wor. You start away,
And lend no eare vnto my purposes.
Those Prisoners you shall keepe

   Hot. Nay, I will: that's flat:
He said, he would not ransome Mortimer:
Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer.
But I will finde him when he lyes asleepe,
And in his eare, Ile holla Mortimer.
Nay, Ile haue a Starling shall be taught to speake
Nothing but Mortimer, and giue it him,
To keepe his anger still in motion

   Wor. Heare you Cousin: a word

   Hot. All studies heere I solemnly defie,
Saue how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrooke,
And that same Sword and Buckler Prince of Wales.
But that I thinke his Father loues him not,
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I would haue poyson'd him with a pot of Ale

   Wor. Farewell Kinsman: Ile talke to you
When you are better temper'd to attend

   Nor. Why what a Waspe-tongu'd & impatient foole
Art thou, to breake into this Womans mood,
Tying thine eare to no tongue but thine owne?
  Hot. Why look you, I am whipt & scourg'd with rods,
Netled, and stung with Pismires, when I heare
Of this vile Politician Bullingbrooke.
In Richards time: What de'ye call the place?
A plague vpon't, it is in Gloustershire:
'Twas, where the madcap Duke his Vncle kept,
His Vncle Yorke, where I first bow'd my knee
Vnto this King of Smiles, this Bullingbrooke:
When you and he came backe from Rauenspurgh

   Nor. At Barkley Castle

   Hot. You say true:
Why what a caudie deale of curtesie,
This fawning Grey-hound then did proffer me,
Looke when his infant Fortune came to age,
And gentle Harry Percy, and kinde Cousin:
O, the Diuell take such Couzeners, God forgiue me,
Good Vncle tell your tale, for I haue done

   Wor. Nay, if you haue not, too't againe,
Wee'l stay your leysure

   Hot. I haue done insooth

   Wor. Then once more to your Scottish Prisoners.
Deliuer them vp without their ransome straight,
And make the Dowglas sonne your onely meane
For powres in Scotland: which for diuers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assur'd
Will easily be granted you, my Lord.
Your Sonne in Scotland being thus imploy'd,
Shall secretly into the bosome creepe
Of that same noble Prelate, well belou'd,
The Archbishop

   Hot. Of Yorke, is't not?
  Wor. True, who beares hard
His Brothers death at Bristow, the Lord Scroope.
I speake not this in estimation,
As what I thinke might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted, and set downe,
And onely stayes but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on

   Hot. I smell it:
Vpon my life, it will do wond'rous well

   Nor. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st slip

   Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a Noble plot,
And then the power of Scotland, and of Yorke
To ioyne with Mortimer, Ha

   Wor. And so they shall

   Hot. Infaith it is exceedingly well aym'd

   Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids vs speed,
To saue our heads, by raising of a Head:
For, beare our selues as euen as we can,
The King will alwayes thinke him in our debt,
And thinke, we thinke our selues vnsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay vs home.
And see already, how he doth beginne
To make vs strangers to his lookes of loue

   Hot. He does, he does; wee'l be reueng'd on him

   Wor. Cousin, farewell. No further go in this,
Then I by Letters shall direct your course
When time is ripe, which will be sodainly:
Ile steale to Glendower, and loe, Mortimer,
Where you, and Dowglas, and our powres at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meete,
To beare our fortunes in our owne strong armes,
Which now we hold at much vncertainty

   Nor. Farewell good Brother, we shall thriue, I trust

   Hot. Vncle, adieu: O let the houres be short,
Till fields, and blowes, and grones, applaud our sport.

Exit

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The King and his advisers meet at Windsor. The King says that in the future he is going to be tougher and more decisive. He thinks others have not been treating him with sufficient respect. Worcester tries to protest, but the King orders him to leave the meeting. He believes Worcester to be disloyal. After Worcester leaves, Northumberland explains that the King received a misleading report about Hotspur's refusal to hand over his prisoners. Hotspur then speaks for himself. He says that immediately after the battle he was approached by a foppish man with a lot of annoying airs and graces. The man insulted his soldiers and then demanded he hand over his prisoners on behalf of the King. This made Hotspur angry. Hotspur now tells the King he cannot remember exactly what he said about the prisoners, but he hopes the accusation-of refusing to hand them over-will not damage relations between them. Sir Walter Blunt asks that the King accept Hotspur's explanation, but the King is not satisfied. He goes on to another matter concerning Hotspur-Hotspur's request that the King pay a ransom to win the release of Mortimer, Hotspur's brother-in-law. But the King is in no mood to agree to this. He has a low opinion of Mortimer, and he has also been informed that Mortimer has married the daughter of Owen Glendower, his captor. The King calls Mortimer a traitor, and refuses to offer ransom. He adds that he cannot regard any man who asks him to do so as a friend. Hotspur bridles at the suggestion that Mortimer is a traitor, and tells of how valiantly he fought against Glendower. The King retorts that Hotspur misrepresents the facts; Mortimer never fought with Glendower. The King tells Hotspur not to mention Mortimer again and demands that Hotspur send him his prisoners with all speed. He threatens him with retaliation if he refuses. The King exits, with Blunt. Alone with his father, Hotspur says he will never hand over his prisoners. His father rebukes him. Then Worcester enters, but before he can speak, Hotspur says he will do everything in his power to free Mortimer. He also expresses his deep dislike of the King. Hotspur explains the situation to Worcester, who says it is not surprising that the King is antagonistic toward Mortimer, since the former king, Richard II, whom Henry IV overthrew, declared that Mortimer was next in line to the throne. Hotspur then gives vent to his anger against the King and rebukes Northumberland and Worcester for joining with the King to overthrow Richard. But worse, he rebukes them for putting up with the contempt of the man they helped to place in power. The King is in their debt, yet according to Hotspur he spends all his time plotting as to how he can get rid of them. Worcester attempts to get Hotspur to listen to a plan he has, but Hotspur is so excited he will not stop talking. He rants about honor and says he will not give up a single prisoner and will dedicate his life to bringing down the King and his son. Northumberland rebukes his son for his outburst. But Hotspur does not apologize. Instead, he continues in the same vein. He recalls the first time he met the King, in King Richard's time. The meeting was in Yorkshire, when Henry IV was still named Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke had spoken sweetly to him, but Hotspur curses the memory of it. Hotspur has finally said all he has to say, and this gives Worcester the opportunity to explain his plan. He tells Hotspur to release his Scottish prisoners back to Douglas, the Scottish leader, without any ransom money, and make an alliance with him. Worcester then tells Northumberland to make an alliance with the Archbishop of York. Worcester knows that the Archbishop still grieves for his brother, who was executed by Henry IV, and is likely to want to join a rebellion. Hotspur then fills in the rest of the plot, realizing that Douglas can join up with Mortimer's and Glendower's forces and then they will all unite against the King. Hotspur and Northumberland enthusiastically support the plan. Worcester explains how necessary it is: the King knows he is indebted to them because they helped him win power, and he must also know they are dissatisfied with the way he is treating them. Therefore he will eventually do away with them unless they act first. Hotspur looks forward to the coming battle.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Carrier with a Lanterne in his hand.

  1.Car. Heigh-ho, an't be not foure by the day, Ile be
hang'd. Charles waine is ouer the new Chimney, and yet
our horse not packt. What Ostler?
  Ost. Anon, anon

   1.Car. I prethee Tom, beate Cuts Saddle, put a few
Flockes in the point: the poore Iade is wrung in the withers,
out of all cesse.
Enter another Carrier.

  2.Car. Pease and Beanes are as danke here as a Dog,
and this is the next way to giue poore Iades the Bottes:
This house is turned vpside downe since Robin the Ostler
dyed

   1.Car. Poore fellow neuer ioy'd since the price of oats
rose, it was the death of him

   2.Car. I thinke this is the most villanous house in al
London rode for Fleas: I am stung like a Tench

   1.Car. Like a Tench? There is ne're a King in Christendome,
could be better bit, then I haue beene since the
first Cocke

   2.Car. Why, you will allow vs ne're a Iourden, and
then we leake in your Chimney: and your Chamber-lye
breeds Fleas like a Loach

   1.Car. What Ostler, come away, and be hangd: come
away

   2.Car. I haue a Gammon of Bacon, and two razes of
Ginger, to be deliuered as farre as Charing-crosse

   1.Car. The Turkies in my Pannier are quite starued.
What Ostler? A plague on thee, hast thou neuer an eye in
thy head? Can'st not heare? And t'were not as good a
deed as drinke, to break the pate of thee, I am a very Villaine.
Come and be hang'd, hast no faith in thee?
Enter Gads-hill.

  Gad. Good-morrow Carriers. What's a clocke?
  Car. I thinke it be two a clocke

   Gad. I prethee lend me thy Lanthorne to see my Gelding
in the stable

   1.Car. Nay soft I pray ye, I know a trick worth two
of that

   Gad. I prethee lend me thine

   2.Car. I, when, canst tell? Lend mee thy Lanthorne
(quoth-a) marry Ile see thee hang'd first

   Gad. Sirra Carrier: What time do you mean to come
to London?
  2.Car. Time enough to goe to bed with a Candle, I
warrant thee. Come neighbour Mugges, wee'll call vp
the Gentlemen, they will along with company, for they
haue great charge.

Exeunt.

Enter Chamberlaine.

  Gad. What ho, Chamberlaine?
  Cham. At hand quoth Pick-purse

   Gad. That's euen as faire, as at hand quoth the Chamberlaine:
For thou variest no more from picking of Purses,
then giuing direction, doth from labouring. Thou
lay'st the plot, how

   Cham. Good morrow Master Gads-Hill, it holds currant
that I told you yesternight. There's a Franklin in the
wilde of Kent, hath brought three hundred Markes with
him in Gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company last
night at Supper; a kinde of Auditor, one that hath abundance
of charge too (God knowes what) they are vp already,
and call for Egges and Butter. They will away
presently

   Gad. Sirra, if they meete not with S[aint]. Nicholas Clarks,
Ile giue thee this necke

   Cham. No, Ile none of it: I prythee keep that for the
Hangman, for I know thou worshipst S[aint]. Nicholas as truly
as a man of falshood may

   Gad. What talkest thou to me of the Hangman? If I
hang, Ile make a fat payre of Gallowes. For, if I hang,
old Sir Iohn hangs with mee, and thou know'st hee's no
Starueling. Tut, there are other Troians that y dream'st
not of, the which (for sport sake) are content to doe the
Profession some grace; that would (if matters should bee
look'd into) for their owne Credit sake, make all Whole.
I am ioyned with no Foot-land-Rakers, No Long-staffe
six-penny strikers, none of these mad
Mustachio-purple-hu'd-Maltwormes,
but with Nobility, and Tranquilitie;
Bourgomasters, and great Oneyers, such as can holde in,
such as will strike sooner then speake; and speake sooner
then drinke, and drinke sooner then pray: and yet I lye,
for they pray continually vnto their Saint the Commonwealth;
or rather, not to pray to her, but prey on her: for
they ride vp & downe on her, and make hir their Boots

   Cham. What, the Commonwealth their Bootes? Will
she hold out water in foule way?
  Gad. She will, she will; Iustice hath liquor'd her. We
steale as in a Castle, cocksure: we haue the receit of Fernseede,
we walke inuisible

   Cham. Nay, I thinke rather, you are more beholding
to the Night, then to the Fernseed, for your walking inuisible

   Gad. Giue me thy hand.
Thou shalt haue a share in our purpose,
As I am a true man

   Cham. Nay, rather let mee haue it, as you are a false
Theefe

   Gad. Goe too: Homo is a common name to all men.
Bid the Ostler bring the Gelding out of the stable. Farewell,
ye muddy Knaue.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The scene switches to an innyard in Rochester, very early in the morning. Two carriers , are grumbling about their working conditions as they start to prepare the horses in readiness for their departure. Gadshill enters and asks to borrow their lantern so he can inspect his gelding in the stable, but the men are suspicious of him. As the carriers exit, a chamberlain enters. The chamberlain has been acting as Gadshill's spy, seeing who among the wealthy guests will be the best target for a robbery. He tells Gadshill that a wealthy farmer, who has three hundred marks with him in gold, is traveling with a revenue officer, who is also carrying money. Gadshill confirms that these men will be robbed. The chamberlain jokes that Gadshill may face the hangman one day, but Gadshill replies that if he is going to hang, so will Sir John Falstaff. Then he boasts that he and his pals are not your average thieves-they are of a higher class. After some more banter, the two men exit.


prompt:
Chapter: Scaena Secunda.

Enter Prince, Poynes, and Peto.

  Poines. Come shelter, shelter, I haue remoued Falstafs
Horse, and he frets like a gum'd Veluet

   Prin. Stand close.
Enter Falstaffe.

  Fal. Poines, Poines, and be hang'd Poines

   Prin. Peace ye fat-kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling
dost thou keepe

   Fal. What Poines. Hal?
  Prin. He is walk'd vp to the top of the hill, Ile go seek
him

   Fal. I am accurst to rob in that Theefe company: that
Rascall hath remoued my Horse, and tied him I know not
where. If I trauell but foure foot by the squire further a
foote, I shall breake my winde. Well, I doubt not but
to dye a faire death for all this, if I scape hanging for killing
that Rogue, I haue forsworne his company hourely
any time this two and twenty yeare, & yet I am bewitcht
with the Rogues company. If the Rascall haue not giuen
me medicines to make me loue him, Ile be hang'd; it could
not be else: I haue drunke Medicines. Poines, Hal, a
Plague vpon you both. Bardolph, Peto: Ile starue ere I
rob a foote further. And 'twere not as good a deede as to
drinke, to turne True-man, and to leaue these Rogues, I
am the veriest Varlet that euer chewed with a Tooth.
Eight yards of vneuen ground, is threescore & ten miles
afoot with me: and the stony-hearted Villaines knowe it
well enough. A plague vpon't, when Theeues cannot be
true one to another.

They Whistle.

Whew: a plague light vpon you all. Giue my Horse you
Rogues: giue me my Horse, and be hang'd

   Prin. Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare
close to the ground, and list if thou can heare the tread of
Trauellers

   Fal. Haue you any Leauers to lift me vp again being
downe? Ile not beare mine owne flesh so far afoot again,
for all the coine in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague
meane ye to colt me thus?
  Prin. Thou ly'st, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted

   Fal. I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,
good Kings sonne

   Prin. Out you Rogue, shall I be your Ostler?
  Fal. Go hang thy selfe in thine owne heire-apparant-Garters:
If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I haue not
Ballads made on all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of
Sacke be my poyson: when a iest is so forward, & a foote
too, I hate it.
Enter Gads-hill.

  Gad. Stand

   Fal. So I do against my will

   Poin. O 'tis our Setter, I know his voyce:
Bardolfe, what newes?
  Bar. Case ye, case ye; on with your Vizards, there's
mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going
to the Kings Exchequer

   Fal. You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tauern

   Gad. There's enough to make vs all

   Fal. To be hang'd

   Prin. You foure shall front them in the narrow Lane:
Ned and I, will walke lower; if they scape from your encounter,
then they light on vs

   Peto. But how many be of them?
  Gad. Some eight or ten

   Fal. Will they not rob vs?
  Prin. What, a Coward Sir Iohn Paunch?
  Fal. Indeed I am not Iohn of Gaunt your Grandfather;
but yet no Coward, Hal

   Prin. Wee'l leaue that to the proofe

   Poin. Sirra Iacke, thy horse stands behinde the hedg,
when thou need'st him, there thou shalt finde him. Farewell,
and stand fast

   Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd

   Prin. Ned, where are our disguises?
  Poin. Heere hard by: Stand close

   Fal. Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
euery man to his businesse.
Enter Trauellers

   Tra. Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horses
downe the hill: Wee'l walke a-foot a while, and ease our
Legges

   Theeues. Stay

   Tra. Iesu blesse vs

   Fal. Strike down with them, cut the villains throats;
a whorson Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaues, they hate vs
youth; downe with them, fleece them

   Tra. O, we are vndone, both we and ours for euer

   Fal. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No
ye Fat Chuffes, I would your store were heere. On Bacons,
on, what ye knaues? Yong men must liue, you are
Grand Iurers, are ye? Wee'l iure ye ifaith.

Heere they rob them, and binde them. Enter the Prince and Poines.

  Prin. The Theeues haue bound the True-men: Now
could thou and I rob the Theeues, and go merily to London,
it would be argument for a Weeke, Laughter for a
Moneth, and a good iest for euer

   Poynes. Stand close, I heare them comming.
Enter Theeues againe.

  Fal. Come my Masters, let vs share, and then to horsse
before day: and the Prince and Poynes bee not two arrand
Cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no moe
valour in that Poynes, than in a wilde Ducke

   Prin. Your money

   Poin. Villaines.

As they are sharing, the Prince and Poynes set vpon them. They all
run
away, leauing the booty behind them.

  Prince. Got with much ease. Now merrily to Horse:
The Theeues are scattred, and possest with fear so strongly,
that they dare not meet each other: each takes his fellow
for an Officer. Away good Ned, Falstaffe sweates to
death, and Lards the leane earth as he walkes along: wer't
not for laughing, I should pitty him

   Poin. How the Rogue roar'd.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: On the highway near Gadshill, Falstaff frets because Poins has hidden his horse away somewhere. He complains to Prince Hal, who teases him about it. Bardolph and Gadshill enter and announce that the travelers who are to be robbed are approaching down the hill. The Prince and Poins make an excuse to separate themselves from the others, saying they will act as back-up if the travelers manage to escape the first attack. Poins tells Falstaff where he can find his horse; he has hidden it behind a hedge. Poins and the Prince exit. The robbery takes place. Then, following their plan, the disguised Prince and Poins waylay the robbers, who all run away, leaving the spoils of the robbery behind. Falstaff manages one or two blows, and then he also runs away. The Prince and Poins laugh uproariously at the success of their joke.


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Tertia.

Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.

But for mine owne part, my Lord. I could bee well contented to
be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.
He could be contented: Why is he not then? in respect of
the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues
his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me
see some more. The purpose you vndertake is dangerous.
Why that's certaine: 'Tis dangerous to take a Colde, to
sleepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of
this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety. The
purpose you vndertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue named
vncertaine, the Time it selfe vnsorted, and your whole
Plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an Opposition.
Say you so, say you so: I say vnto you againe, you are a
shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lackebraine
is this? I protest, our plot is as good a plot as euer
was laid; our Friend true and constant: A good Plotte,
good Friends, and full of expectation: An excellent plot,
very good Friends. What a Frosty-spirited rogue is this?
Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the
generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now
by this Rascall, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.
Is there not my Father, my Vncle, and my Selfe, Lord
Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of Yorke, and Owen Glendour?
Is there not besides, the Dowglas? Haue I not all their letters,
to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Moneth?
and are they not some of them set forward already?
What a Pagan Rascall is this? An Infidell. Ha, you shall
see now in very sincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he
to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could
diuide my selfe, and go to buffets, for mouing such a dish
of skim'd Milk with so honourable an Action. Hang him,
let him tell the King we are prepared. I will set forwards
to night.
Enter his Lady.

How now Kate, I must leaue you within these two hours

   La. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence haue I this fortnight bin
A banish'd woman from my Harries bed?
Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?
And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheekes?
And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee,
To thicke-ey'd musing, and curst melancholly?
In my faint-slumbers, I by thee haue watcht,
And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres:
Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed,
Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd
Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents,
Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets,
Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin,
Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine,
And all the current of a headdy fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe,
That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed Streame;
And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd,
Such as we see when men restraine their breath
On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these?
Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand,
And I must know it: else he loues me not

   Hot. What ho; Is Gilliams with the Packet gone?
  Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone

   Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses fro[m] the Sheriffe?
  Ser. One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now

   Hot. What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not

   Ser. It is my Lord

   Hot. That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will
backe him straight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth
into the Parke

   La. But heare you, my lord

   Hot. What say'st thou my Lady?
  La. What is it carries you away?
  Hot. Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse

   La. Out you mad-headed Ape, a Weazell hath not
such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile
know your businesse Harry, that I will. I feare my Brother
Mortimer doth stirre about his Title, and hath sent
for you to line his enterprize. But if you go-
  Hot. So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue

   La. Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me directly
vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake
thy little finger Harry, if thou wilt not tel me true

   Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not,
I care not for thee Kate: this is no world
To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.
We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes,
And passe them currant too. Gods me, my horse.
What say'st thou Kate? what wold'st thou haue with me?
  La. Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed?
Well, do not then. For since you loue me not,
I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me?
Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest, or no

   Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare
I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate,
I must not haue you henceforth, question me,
Whether I go: nor reason whereabout.
Whether I must, I must: and to conclude,
This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle Kate.
I know you wise, but yet no further wise
Then Harry Percies wife. Constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecie,
No Lady closer. For I will beleeue
Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know,
And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate

   La. How so farre?
  Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate,
Whither I go, thither shall you go too:
To day will I set forth, to morrow you.
Will this content you Kate?
  La. It must of force.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Prince and Poines.

  Prin. Ned, prethee come out of that fat roome, & lend
me thy hand to laugh a little

   Poines. Where hast bene Hall?
  Prin. With three or foure Logger-heads, amongst 3.
or fourescore Hogsheads. I haue sounded the verie base
string of humility. Sirra, I am sworn brother to a leash of
Drawers, and can call them by their names, as Tom, Dicke,
and Francis. They take it already vpon their confidence,
that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King
of Curtesie: telling me flatly I am no proud Iack like Falstaffe,
but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, and
when I am King of England, I shall command al the good
Laddes in East-cheape. They call drinking deepe, dying
Scarlet; and when you breath in your watering, then
they cry hem, and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am
so good a proficient in one quarter of an houre, that I can
drinke with any Tinker in his owne Language during my
life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor, that thou
wer't not with me in this action: but sweet Ned, to sweeten
which name of Ned, I giue thee this peniworth of Sugar,
clapt euen now into my hand by an vnder Skinker,
one that neuer spake other English in his life, then Eight
shillings and six pence, and, You are welcome: with this shril
addition, Anon, Anon sir, Score a Pint of Bastard in the
Halfe Moone, or so. But Ned, to driue away time till Falstaffe
come, I prythee doe thou stand in some by-roome,
while I question my puny Drawer, to what end hee gaue
me the Sugar, and do neuer leaue calling Francis, that his
Tale to me may be nothing but, Anon: step aside, and Ile
shew thee a President

   Poines. Francis

   Prin. Thou art perfect

   Poin. Francis.
Enter Drawer.

  Fran. Anon, anon sir; looke downe into the Pomgarnet,
Ralfe

   Prince. Come hither Francis

   Fran. My Lord

   Prin. How long hast thou to serue, Francis?
  Fran. Forsooth fiue yeares, and as much as to-
  Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. Fiue yeares: Berlady a long Lease for the clinking
of Pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as
to play the coward with thy Indenture, & show it a faire
paire of heeles, and run from it?
  Fran. O Lord sir, Ile be sworne vpon all the Books in
England, I could finde in my heart

   Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. How old art thou, Francis?
  Fran. Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shalbe-
  Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon sir, pray you stay a little, my Lord

   Prin. Nay but harke you Francis, for the Sugar thou
gauest me, 'twas a penyworth, was't not?
  Fran. O Lord sir, I would it had bene two

   Prin. I will giue thee for it a thousand pound: Aske
me when thou wilt, and thou shalt haue it

   Poin. Francis

   Fran. Anon, anon

   Prin. Anon Francis? No Francis, but to morrow Francis:
or Francis, on thursday: or indeed Francis when thou
wilt. But Francis

   Fran. My Lord

   Prin. Wilt thou rob this Leatherne Ierkin, Christall
button, Not-pated, Agat ring, Puke stocking, Caddice
garter, Smooth tongue, Spanish pouch

   Fran. O Lord sir, who do you meane?
  Prin. Why then your browne Bastard is your onely
drinke: for looke you Francis, your white Canuas doublet
will sulley. In Barbary sir, it cannot come to so much

   Fran. What sir?
  Poin. Francis

   Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare them call?

Heere they both call him, the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing
which way
to go.

Enter Vintner.

  Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling?
Looke to the Guests within: My Lord, olde Sir
Iohn with halfe a dozen more, are at the doore: shall I let
them in?
  Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore.
Poines.
Enter Poines.

  Poin. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. Sirra, Falstaffe and the rest of the Theeues, are at
the doore, shall we be merry?
  Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lad. But harke yee,
What cunning match haue you made this iest of the
Drawer? Come, what's the issue?
  Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue shewed themselues
humors, since the old dayes of goodman Adam, to
the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight.
What's a clocke Francis?
  Fran. Anon, anon sir

   Prin. That euer this Fellow should haue fewer words
then a Parret, and yet the sonne of a Woman. His industry
is vp-staires and down-staires, his eloquence the parcell
of a reckoning. 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; Fie vpon this quiet life, I want worke. 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. 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.
Enter Falstaffe.

  Poin. Welcome Iacke, where hast thou beene?
  Fal. A plague of all Cowards I say, and a Vengeance
too, marry and Amen. Giue me a cup of Sacke Boy. Ere
I leade this life long, Ile sowe nether stockes, and mend
them too. A plague of all cowards. Giue me a Cup of
Sacke, Rogue. Is there no Vertue extant?
  Prin. Didst thou neuer see Titan kisse a dish of Butter,
pittifull hearted Titan that melted at the sweete Tale of
the Sunne? If thou didst, then behold that compound

   Fal. You Rogue, heere's Lime in this Sacke too: there
is nothing but Roguery to be found in Villanous man; yet
a Coward is worse then a Cup of Sack with lime. A villanous
Coward, go thy wayes old Iacke, die when thou
wilt, if manhood, good manhood be not forgot vpon the
face of the earth, then am I a shotten Herring: there liues
not three good men vnhang'd in England, & one of them
is fat, and growes old, God helpe the while, a bad world I
say. I would I were a Weauer, I could sing all manner of
songs. A plague of all Cowards, I say still

   Prin. How now Woolsacke, what mutter you?
  Fal. A Kings Sonne? If I do not beate thee out of thy
Kingdome with a dagger of Lath, and driue all thy Subiects
afore thee like a flocke of Wilde-geese, Ile neuer
weare haire on my face more. You Prince of Wales?
  Prin. Why you horson round man? what's the matter?
  Fal. Are you not a Coward? Answer me to that, and
Poines there?
  Prin. Ye fat paunch, and yee call mee Coward, Ile
stab thee

   Fal. I call thee Coward? Ile see thee damn'd ere I call
the Coward: but I would giue a thousand pound I could
run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the
shoulders, you care not who sees your backe: Call you
that backing of your friends? a plague vpon such backing:
giue me them that will face me. Giue me a Cup
of Sack, I am a Rogue if I drunke to day

   Prin. O Villaine, thy Lippes are scarce wip'd, since
thou drunk'st last

   Falst. All's one for that.

He drinkes.

A plague of all Cowards still, say I

   Prince. What's the matter?
  Falst. What's the matter? here be foure of vs, haue
ta'ne a thousand pound this Morning

   Prince. Where is it, Iack? where is it?
  Falst. Where is it? taken from vs, it is: a hundred
vpon poore foure of vs

   Prince. What, a hundred, man?
  Falst. I am a Rogue, if I were not at halfe Sword with
a dozen of them two houres together. I haue scaped by
miracle. I am eight times thrust through the Doublet,
foure through the Hose, my Buckler cut through and
through, my Sword hackt like a Hand-saw, ecce signum.
I neuer dealt better since I was a man: all would not doe.
A plague of all Cowards: let them speake; if they speake
more or lesse then truth, they are villaines, and the sonnes
of darknesse

   Prince. Speake sirs, how was it?
  Gad. We foure set vpon some dozen

   Falst. Sixteene, at least, my Lord

   Gad. And bound them

   Peto. No, no, they were not bound

   Falst. You Rogue, they were bound, euery man of
them, or I am a Iew else, an Ebrew Iew

   Gad. As we were sharing, some sixe or seuen fresh men
set vpon vs

   Falst. And vnbound the rest, and then come in the
other

   Prince. What, fought yee with them all?
  Falst. All? I know not what yee call all: but if I
fought not with fiftie of them, I am a bunch of Radish:
if there were not two or three and fiftie vpon poore olde
Iack, then am I no two-legg'd Creature

   Poin. Pray Heauen, you haue not murthered some of
them

   Falst. Nay, that's past praying for, I haue pepper'd
two of them: Two I am sure I haue payed, two Rogues
in Buckrom Sutes. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a
Lye, spit in my face, call me Horse: thou knowest my olde
word: here I lay, and thus I bore my point; foure Rogues
in Buckrom let driue at me

   Prince. What, foure? thou sayd'st but two, euen now

   Falst. Foure Hal, I told thee foure

   Poin. I, I, he said foure

   Falst. These foure came all a-front, and mainely thrust
at me; I made no more adoe, but tooke all their seuen
points in my Targuet, thus

   Prince. Seuen? why there were but foure, euen now

   Falst. In buckrom

   Poin. I, foure, in Buckrom Sutes

   Falst. Seuen, by these Hilts, or I am a Villaine else

   Prin. Prethee let him alone, we shall haue more anon

   Falst. Doest thou heare me, Hal?
  Prin. I, and marke thee too, Iack

   Falst. Doe so, for it is worth the listning too: these
nine in Buckrom, that I told thee of

   Prin. So, two more alreadie

   Falst. Their Points being broken

   Poin. Downe fell his Hose

   Falst. Began to giue me ground: but I followed me
close, came in foot and hand; and with a thought, seuen of
the eleuen I pay'd

   Prin. O monstrous! eleuen Buckrom men growne
out of two?
  Falst. But as the Deuill would haue it, three mis-begotten
Knaues, in Kendall Greene, came at my Back, and
let driue at me; for it was so darke, Hal, that thou could'st
not see thy Hand

   Prin. These Lyes are like the Father that begets them,
grosse as a Mountaine, open, palpable. Why thou Claybrayn'd
Guts, thou Knotty-pated Foole, thou Horson obscene
greasie Tallow Catch

   Falst. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the
truth, the truth?
  Prin. Why, how could'st thou know these men in
Kendall Greene, when it was so darke, thou could'st not
see thy Hand? Come, tell vs your reason: what say'st thou
to this?
  Poin. Come, your reason Iack, your reason

   Falst. What, vpon compulsion? No: were I at the
Strappado, or all the Racks in the World, I would not
tell you on compulsion. Giue you a reason on compulsion?
If Reasons were as plentie as Black-berries, I would
giue no man a Reason vpon compulsion, I

   Prin. Ile be no longer guiltie of this sinne. This sanguine
Coward, this Bed-presser, this Hors-back-breaker,
this huge Hill of Flesh

   Falst. Away you Starueling, you Elfe-skin, you dried
Neats tongue, Bulles-pissell, you stocke-fish: O for breth
to vtter. What is like thee? You Tailors yard, you sheath
you Bow-case, you vile standing tucke

   Prin. Well, breath a-while, and then to't againe: and
when thou hast tyr'd thy selfe in base comparisons, heare
me speake but thus

   Poin. Marke Iacke

   Prin. We two, saw you foure set on foure and bound
them, and were Masters of their Wealth: mark now how
a plaine Tale shall put you downe. Then did we two, set
on you foure, and with a word, outfac'd you from your
prize, and haue it: yea, and can shew it you in the House.
And Falstaffe, you caried your Guts away as nimbly, with
as quicke dexteritie, and roared for mercy, and still ranne
and roar'd, as euer I heard Bull-Calfe. What a Slaue art
thou, to hacke thy sword as thou hast done, and then say
it was in fight. What trick? what deuice? what starting
hole canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open
and apparant shame?
  Poines. Come, let's heare Iacke: What tricke hast
thou now?
  Fal. I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why heare
ye my Masters, was it for me to kill the Heire apparant?
Should I turne vpon the true Prince? Why, thou knowest
I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware Instinct, the Lion
will not touch the true Prince: Instinct is a great matter.
I was a Coward on Instinct: I shall thinke the better of
my selfe, and thee, during my life: I, for a valiant Lion,
and thou for a true Prince. But Lads, I am glad you haue
the Mony. Hostesse, clap to the doores: watch to night,
pray to morrow. Gallants, Lads, Boyes, Harts of Gold,
all the good Titles of Fellowship come to you. What,
shall we be merry? shall we haue a Play extempory

   Prin. Content, and the argument shall be, thy runing
away

   Fal. A, no more of that Hall, and thou louest me.

Enter Hostesse

  Host. My Lord, the Prince?
  Prin. How now my Lady the Hostesse, what say'st
thou to me?
  Hostesse. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the
Court at doore would speake with you: hee sayes, hee
comes from your Father

   Prin. Giue him as much as will make him a Royall
man, and send him backe againe to my Mother

   Falst. What manner of man is hee?
  Hostesse. An old man

   Falst. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight?
Shall I giue him his answere?
  Prin. Prethee doe Iacke

   Falst. 'Faith, and Ile send him packing.
Enter.

  Prince. Now Sirs: you fought faire; so did you
Peto, so did you Bardol: you are Lyons too, you ranne
away vpon instinct: you will not touch the true Prince;
no, fie

   Bard. 'Faith, I ranne when I saw others runne

   Prin. Tell mee now in earnest, how came Falstaffes
Sword so hackt?
  Peto. Why, he hackt it with his Dagger, and said, hee
would sweare truth out of England, but hee would make
you beleeue it was done in fight, and perswaded vs to doe
the like

   Bard. Yea, and to tickle our Noses with Spear-grasse,
to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments
with it, and sweare it was the blood of true men. I did
that I did not this seuen yeeres before, I blusht to heare
his monstrous deuices

   Prin. O Villaine, thou stolest a Cup of Sacke eighteene
yeeres agoe, and wert taken with the manner, and
euer since thou hast blusht extempore: thou hadst fire
and sword on thy side, and yet thou ranst away; what
instinct hadst thou for it?
  Bard. My Lord, doe you see these Meteors? doe you
behold these Exhalations?
  Prin. I doe
  Bard. What thinke you they portend?
  Prin. Hot Liuers, and cold Purses

   Bard. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken

   Prin. No, if rightly taken, Halter.
Enter Falstaffe.

Heere comes leane Iacke, heere comes bare-bone. How
now my sweet Creature of Bombast, how long is't agoe,
Iacke, since thou saw'st thine owne Knee?
  Falst. My owne Knee? When I was about thy yeeres
(Hal) I was not an Eagles Talent in the Waste, I could
haue crept into any Aldermans Thumbe-Ring: a plague
of sighing and griefe, it blowes a man vp like a Bladder.
There's villanous Newes abroad; heere was Sir Iohn
Braby from your Father; you must goe to the Court in
the Morning. 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?
  Poin. O, Glendower

   Falst. 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

   Prin. Hee that rides at high speede, and with a Pistoll
kills a Sparrow flying

   Falst. You haue hit it

   Prin. So did he neuer the Sparrow

   Falst. Well, that Rascall hath good mettall in him,
hee will not runne

   Prin. Why, what a Rascall art thou then, to prayse him
so for running?
  Falst. A Horse-backe (ye Cuckoe) but a foot hee will
not budge a foot

   Prin. Yes Iacke, vpon instinct

   Falst. I grant ye, vpon instinct: Well, hee is there too,
and one Mordake, and a thousand blew-Cappes more.
Worcester is stolne away by Night: thy Fathers Beard is
turn'd white with the Newes; you may buy Land now
as cheape as stinking Mackrell

   Prin. Then 'tis like, if there come a hot Sunne, and this
ciuill buffetting hold, wee shall buy Maiden-heads as
they buy Hob-nayles, by the Hundreds

   Falst. By the Masse Lad, thou say'st true, it is like wee
shall haue good trading that way. But tell me Hal, art
not thou horrible afear'd? thou being Heire apparant,
could the World picke thee out three such Enemyes againe,
as that Fiend Dowglas, that Spirit Percy, and that
Deuill Glendower? Art not thou horrible afraid? Doth
not thy blood thrill at it?
  Prin. Not a whit: I lacke some of thy instinct

   Falst. Well, thou wilt be horrible chidde to morrow,
when thou commest to thy Father: if thou doe loue me,
practise an answere

   Prin. Doe thou stand for my Father, and examine mee
vpon the particulars of my Life

   Falst. Shall I? content: This Chayre shall bee my
State, this Dagger my Scepter, and this Cushion my
Crowne

   Prin. 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

   Falst. Well, and the fire of Grace be not quite out of
thee now shalt thou be moued. Giue me a Cup of Sacke
to make mine eyes looke redde, that it may be thought I
haue wept, for I must speake in passion, and I will doe it
in King Cambyses vaine

   Prin. Well, heere is my Legge

   Falst. And heere is my speech: stand aside Nobilitie

   Hostesse. This is excellent sport, yfaith

   Falst. Weepe not, sweet Queene, for trickling teares
are vaine

   Hostesse. O the Father, how hee holdes his countenance?
  Falst. For Gods sake Lords, conuey my trustfull Queen,
For teares doe stop the floud-gates of her eyes

   Hostesse. O rare, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
Players, as euer I see

   Falst. Peace good Pint-pot, peace good Tickle-braine.
Harry, I doe not onely maruell where thou spendest thy
time; but also, how thou art accompanied: For though
the Camomile, the more it is troden, the faster it growes;
yet Youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it weares.
Thou art my Sonne: I haue partly thy Mothers Word,
partly my Opinion; but chiefely, a villanous tricke of
thine Eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether Lippe, that
doth warrant me. If then thou be Sonne to mee, heere
lyeth the point: why, being Sonne to me, art thou so
poynted at? Shall the blessed Sonne of Heauen proue a
Micher, and eate Black-berryes? a question not to bee
askt. Shall the Sonne of England proue a Theefe, and
take Purses? a question to be askt. There is a thing,
Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is knowne to
many in our Land, by the Name of Pitch: this Pitch (as
ancient Writers doe report) doth defile; so doth the companie
thou keepest: for Harry, now I doe not speake to
thee in Drinke, but in Teares; not in Pleasure, but in Passion;
not in Words onely, but in Woes also: and yet
there is a vertuous man, whom I haue often noted in thy
companie, but I know not his Name

   Prin. What manner of man, and it like your Maiestie?
  Falst. A goodly portly man yfaith, and a corpulent,
of a chearefull Looke, a pleasing Eye, and a most noble
Carriage, and as I thinke, his age some fiftie, or (byrlady)
inclining to threescore; and now I remember mee, his
Name is Falstaffe: if that man should be lewdly giuen,
hee deceiues mee; for Harry, I see Vertue in his Lookes.
If then the Tree may be knowne by the Fruit, as the Fruit
by the Tree, then peremptorily I speake it, there is Vertue
in that Falstaffe: him keepe with, the rest banish. And
tell mee now, thou naughtie Varlet, tell mee, where hast
thou beene this moneth?
  Prin. Do'st thou speake like a King? doe thou stand
for mee, and Ile play my Father

   Falst. Depose me: if thou do'st it halfe so grauely, so
maiestically, both in word and matter, hang me vp by the
heeles for a Rabbet-sucker, or a Poulters Hare

   Prin. Well, heere I am set

   Falst. And heere I stand: iudge my Masters

   Prin. Now Harry, whence come you?
  Falst. My Noble Lord, from East-cheape

   Prin. The complaints I heare of thee, are grieuous

   Falst. Yfaith, my Lord, they are false: Nay, Ile tickle
ye for a young Prince

   Prin. Swearest thou, vngracious Boy? henceforth
ne're looke on me: thou art violently carryed away from
Grace: there is a Deuill haunts thee, in the likenesse of a
fat old Man; a Tunne of Man is thy Companion: Why
do'st thou conuerse with that Trunke of Humors, that
Boulting-Hutch of Beastlinesse, that swolne Parcell of
Dropsies, that huge Bombard of Sacke, that stuft Cloakebagge
of Guts, that rosted Manning Tree Oxe with the
Pudding in his Belly, that reuerend Vice, that grey iniquitie,
that Father Ruffian, that Vanitie in yeeres? wherein
is he good, but to taste Sacke, and drinke it? wherein
neat and cleanly, but to carue a Capon, and eat it? wherein
Cunning, but in Craft? wherein Craftie, but in Villanie?
wherein Villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy,
but in nothing?
  Falst. I would your Grace would take me with you:
whom meanes your Grace?
  Prince. That villanous abhominable mis-leader of
Youth, Falstaffe, that old white-bearded Sathan

   Falst. My Lord, the man I know

   Prince. I know thou do'st

   Falst. But to say, I know more harme in him then in
my selfe, were to say more then I know. That hee is olde
(the more the pittie) his white hayres doe witnesse it:
but that hee is (sauing your reuerence) a Whore-master,
that I vtterly deny. If Sacke and Sugar bee a fault,
Heauen helpe the Wicked: if to be olde and merry, be a
sinne, then many an olde Hoste that I know, is damn'd:
if to be fat, be to be hated, then Pharaohs leane Kine are
to be loued. No, my good Lord, banish Peto, banish
Bardolph, banish Poines: but for sweete Iacke Falstaffe,
kinde Iacke Falstaffe, true Iacke Falstaffe, valiant Iacke Falstaffe,
and therefore more valiant, being as hee is olde Iack
Falstaffe, banish not him thy Harryes companie, banish
not him thy Harryes companie; banish plumpe Iacke, and
banish all the World

   Prince. I doe, I will.
Enter Bardolph running.

  Bard. O, my Lord, my Lord, the Sherife, with a most
monstrous Watch, is at the doore

   Falst. Out you Rogue, play out the Play: I haue much
to say in the behalfe of that Falstaffe.
Enter the Hostesse.

  Hostesse. O, my Lord, my Lord

   Falst. Heigh, heigh, the Deuill rides vpon a Fiddlesticke:
what's the matter?
  Hostesse. The Sherife and all the Watch are at the
doore: they are come to search the House, shall I let
them in?
  Falst. Do'st thou heare Hal, neuer call a true peece of
Gold a Counterfeit: thou art essentially made, without
seeming so

   Prince. And thou a naturall Coward, without instinct

   Falst. I deny your Maior: if you will deny the
Sherife, so: if not, let him enter. If I become not a Cart
as well as another man, a plague on my bringing vp: I
hope I shall as soone be strangled with a Halter, as another

   Prince. Goe hide thee behinde the Arras, the rest
walke vp aboue. Now my Masters, for a true Face and
good Conscience

   Falst. Both which I haue had: but their date is out,
and therefore Ile hide me.
Enter.

  Prince. Call in the Sherife.
Enter Sherife and the Carrier.

  Prince. Now Master Sherife, what is your will with
mee?
  She. First pardon me, my Lord. A Hue and Cry hath
followed certaine men vnto this house

   Prince. What men?
  She. One of them is well knowne, my gracious Lord,
a grosse fat man

   Car. As fat as Butter

   Prince. The man, I doe assure you, is not heere,
For I my selfe at this time haue imploy'd him:
And Sherife, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will by to morrow Dinner time,
Send him to answere thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withall:
And so let me entreat you, leaue the house

   She. I will, my Lord: there are two Gentlemen
Haue in this Robberie lost three hundred Markes

   Prince. It may be so: if he haue robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable: and so farewell

   She. Good Night, my Noble Lord

   Prince. I thinke it is good Morrow, is it not?
  She. Indeede, my Lord, I thinke it be two a Clocke.
Enter.

  Prince. This oyly Rascall is knowne as well as Poules:
goe call him forth

   Peto. Falstaffe? fast asleepe behinde the Arras, and
snorting like a Horse

   Prince. Harke, how hard he fetches breath: search his
Pockets.

He searcheth his Pockets, and findeth certaine Papers.

  Prince. What hast thou found?
  Peto. Nothing but Papers, my Lord

   Prince. Let's see, what be they? reade them

   Peto. Item, a Capon. ii.s.ii.d.
Item, Sawce iiii.d.
Item, Sacke, two Gallons. v.s.viii.d.
Item, Anchoues and Sacke after Supper. ii.s.vi.d.
Item, Bread. ob

   Prince. O monstrous, but one halfe penny-worth of
Bread to this intollerable deale of Sacke? What there is
else, keepe close, wee'le reade it at more aduantage: there
let him sleepe till day. Ile to the Court in the Morning:
Wee must all to the Warres, and thy place shall be honorable.
Ile procure this fat Rogue a Charge of Foot,
and I know his death will be a Match of Twelue-score.
The Money shall be pay'd backe againe with aduantage.
Be with me betimes in the Morning: and so good morrow
Peto

   Peto. Good morrow, good my Lord.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: At his castle in Northumberland, Hotspur reads to himself a letter from an unidentified person. The writer is refusing to join the rebellion against the King. He says the enterprise is too dangerous, the forces not reliable, and the time not right. Hotspur is angry at the refusal. Speaking out loud to himself , he says that the forces have been raised and will be ready to join up with him on the ninth day of the following month. Hotspur fears that the writer of the letter will betray their plot to the King. But then he says he does not care if the man does. The rebels are well prepared enough. His wife enters. She is unhappy because Hotspur has been neglecting her, staying up all night and brooding alone. When he does sleep, he mutters to himself about battles. She wants to know what is going on. Before Hotspur can react, a servant enters and informs him that a man has arrived with a horse for him. Hotspur greets this news enthusiastically. When his wife asks him again what is wrong, and why he is going away, Hotspur at first tries to laugh the question off. But his wife persists. She has already guessed that Hotspur is off on a military expedition connected with her brother Mortimer. But he remains evasive when she tries to question him further. He says he does not love her, and it is time for war, not love. She asks him whether he is joking. Hotspur still refuses to give her a direct answer, and tells her she must not ask him where he is going. He says he goes where he must go, and that is all there is to it. He must leave that very night. He cannot trust her to keep a secret, so he is not going to tell her anything. But then he seems to relent and says that wherever he goes, she shall go too, but she will travel a day behind him. His wife reluctantly accepts this, since she has no other option.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Hotspurre, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, Owen Glendower.

  Mort. These promises are faire, the parties sure,
And our induction full of prosperous hope

   Hotsp. Lord Mortimer, and Cousin Glendower,
Will you sit downe?
And Vnckle Worcester; a plague vpon it,
I haue forgot the Mappe

   Glend. No, here it is:
Sit Cousin Percy, sit good Cousin Hotspurre:
For by that Name, as oft as Lancaster doth speake of you,
His Cheekes looke pale, and with a rising sigh,
He wisheth you in Heauen

   Hotsp. And you in Hell, as oft as he heares Owen Glendower
spoke of

   Glend. I cannot blame him: At my Natiuitie,
The front of Heauen was full of fierie shapes,
Of burning Cressets: and at my Birth,
The frame and foundation of the Earth
Shak'd like a Coward

   Hotsp. Why so it would haue done at the same season,
if your Mothers Cat had but kitten'd, though your selfe
had neuer beene borne

   Glend. I say the Earth did shake when I was borne

   Hotsp. And I say the Earth was not of my minde,
If you suppose, as fearing you, it shooke

   Glend. The heauens were all on fire, the Earth did
tremble

   Hotsp. Oh, then the Earth shooke
To see the Heauens on fire,
And not in feare of your Natiuitie.
Diseased Nature oftentimes breakes forth
In strange eruptions; and the teeming Earth
Is with a kinde of Collick pincht and vext,
By the imprisoning of vnruly Winde
Within her Wombe: which for enlargement striuing,
Shakes the old Beldame Earth, and tombles downe
Steeples, and mosse-growne Towers. At your Birth,
Our Grandam Earth, hauing this distemperature,
In passion shooke

   Glend. Cousin: of many men
I doe not beare these Crossings: Giue me leaue
To tell you once againe, that at my Birth
The front of Heauen was full of fierie shapes,
The Goates ranne from the Mountaines, and the Heards
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields:
These signes haue markt me extraordinarie,
And all the courses of my Life doe shew,
I am not in the Roll of common men.
Where is the Liuing, clipt in with the Sea,
That chides the Bankes of England, Scotland, and Wales,
Which calls me Pupill, or hath read to me?
And bring him out, that is but Womans Sonne,
Can trace me in the tedious wayes of Art,
And hold me pace in deepe experiments

   Hotsp. I thinke there's no man speakes better Welsh:
Ile to Dinner

   Mort. Peace cousin Percy, you will make him mad

   Glend. I can call Spirits from the vastie Deepe

   Hotsp. Why so can I, or so can any man:
But will they come, when you doe call for them?
  Glend. Why, I can teach thee, Cousin, to command the
Deuill

   Hotsp. And I can teach thee, Cousin, to shame the Deuil,
By telling truth. Tell truth, and shame the Deuill.
If thou haue power to rayse him, bring him hither,
And Ile be sworne, I haue power to shame him hence.
Oh, while you liue, tell truth, and shame the Deuill

   Mort. Come, come, no more of this vnprofitable
Chat

   Glend. Three times hath Henry Bullingbrooke made head
Against my Power: thrice from the Banks of Wye,
And sandy-bottom'd Seuerne, haue I hent him
Bootlesse home, and Weather-beaten backe

   Hotsp. Home without Bootes,
And in foule Weather too,
How scapes he Agues in the Deuils name?
  Glend. Come, heere's the Mappe:
Shall wee diuide our Right,
According to our three-fold order ta'ne?
  Mort. The Arch-Deacon hath diuided it
Into three Limits, very equally:
England, from Trent, and Seuerne. hitherto,
By South and East, is to my part assign'd:
All Westward, Wales, beyond the Seuerne shore,
And all the fertile Land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower: And deare Couze, to you
The remnant Northward, lying off from Trent.
And our Indentures Tripartite are drawne:
Which being sealed enterchangeably,
(A Businesse that this Night may execute)
To morrow, Cousin Percy, you and I,
And my good Lord of Worcester, will set forth,
To meete your Father, and the Scottish Power,
As is appointed vs at Shrewsbury.
My Father Glendower is not readie yet,
Nor shall wee neede his helpe these foureteene dayes:
Within that space, you may haue drawne together
Your Tenants, Friends, and neighbouring Gentlemen

   Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, Lords:
And in my Conduct shall your Ladies come,
From whom you now must steale, and take no leaue,
For there will be a World of Water shed,
Vpon the parting of your Wiues and you

   Hotsp. Me thinks my Moity, North from Burton here,
In quantitie equals not one of yours:
See, how this Riuer comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my Land,
A huge halfe Moone, a monstrous Cantle out.
Ile haue the Currant in this place damn'd vp,
And here the smug and Siluer Trent shall runne,
In a new Channell, faire and euenly:
It shall not winde with such a deepe indent,
To rob me of so rich a Bottome here

   Glend. Not winde? it shall, it must, you see it doth

   Mort. Yea, but marke how he beares his course,
And runnes me vp, with like aduantage on the other side,
Gelding the opposed Continent as much,
As on the other side it takes from you

   Worc. Yea, but a little Charge will trench him here,
And on this North side winne this Cape of Land,
And then he runnes straight and euen

   Hotsp. Ile haue it so, a little Charge will doe it

   Glend. Ile not haue it alter'd

   Hotsp. Will not you?
  Glend. No, nor you shall not

   Hotsp. Who shall say me nay?
  Glend. Why, that will I

   Hotsp. let me not vnderstand you then, speake it in
Welsh

   Glend. I can speake English, Lord, as well as you:
For I was trayn'd vp in the English Court;
Where, being but young, I framed to the Harpe
Many an English Dittie, louely well,
And gaue the Tongue a helpefull Ornament;
A Vertue that was neuer seene in you

   Hotsp. Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart,
I had rather be a Kitten, and cry mew,
Then one of these same Meeter Ballad-mongers:
I had rather heare a Brazen Candlestick turn'd,
Or a dry Wheele grate on the Axle-tree,
And that would set my teeth nothing an edge,
Nothing so much, as mincing Poetrie;
'Tis like the forc't gate of a shuffling Nagge

   Glend. Come, you shall haue Trent turn'd

   Hotsp. I doe not care: Ile giue thrice so much Land
To any well-deseruing friend;
But in the way of Bargaine, marke ye me,
Ile cauill on the ninth part of a hayre.
Are the Indentures drawne? shall we be gone?
  Glend. The Moone shines faire,
You may away by Night:
Ile haste the Writer; and withall,
Breake with your Wiues, of your departure hence:
I am afraid my Daughter will runne madde,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer.
Enter.

  Mort. Fie, Cousin Percy, how you crosse my Father

   Hotsp. I cannot chuse: sometime he angers me,
With telling me of the Moldwarpe and the Ant,
Of the Dreamer Merlin, and his Prophecies;
And of a Dragon, and a finne-lesse Fish,
A clip-wing'd Griffin, and a moulten Rauen,
A couching Lyon, and a ramping Cat,
And such a deale of skimble-skamble Stuffe,
As puts me from my Faith. I tell you what,
He held me last Night, at least, nine howres,
In reckning vp the seuerall Deuils Names,
That were his Lacqueyes:
I cry'd hum, and well, goe too,
But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tyred Horse, a rayling Wife,
Worse then a smoakie House. I had rather liue
With Cheese and Garlick in a Windmill farre,
Then feede on Cates, and haue him talke to me,
In any Summer-House in Christendome

   Mort. In faith he was a worthy Gentleman,
Exceeding well read, and profited,
In strange Concealements:
Valiant as a Lyon, and wondrous affable,
And as Bountifull, as Mynes of India.
Shall I tell you, Cousin,
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbes himselfe, euen of his naturall scope,
When you doe crosse his humor: 'faith he does.
I warrant you, that man is not aliue,
Might so haue tempted him, as you haue done,
Without the taste of danger, and reproofe:
But doe not vse it oft, let me entreat you

   Worc. In faith, my Lord, you are too wilfull blame,
And since your comming hither, haue done enough,
To put him quite besides his patience.
You must needes learne, Lord, to amend this fault:
Though sometimes it shew Greatnesse, Courage, Blood,
And that's the dearest grace it renders you;
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh Rage,
Defect of Manners, want of Gouernment,
Pride, Haughtinesse, Opinion, and Disdaine:
The least of which, haunting a Nobleman,
Loseth mens hearts, and leaues behinde a stayne
Vpon the beautie of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation

   Hotsp. Well, I am school'd:
Good-manners be your speede;
Heere come your Wiues, and let vs take our leaue.
Enter Glendower, with the Ladies.

  Mort. This is the deadly spight, that angers me,
My Wife can speake no English, I no Welsh

   Glend. My Daughter weepes, shee'le not part with you,
Shee'le be a Souldier too, shee'le to the Warres

   Mort. Good Father tell her, that she and my Aunt Percy
Shall follow in your Conduct speedily.

Glendower speakes to her in Welsh, and she answeres him in the
same.

  Glend. Shee is desperate heere:
A peeuish selfe-will'd Harlotry,
One that no perswasion can doe good vpon.

The Lady speakes in Welsh.

  Mort. I vnderstand thy Lookes: that pretty Welsh
Which thou powr'st down from these swelling Heauens,
I am too perfect in: and but for shame,
In such a parley should I answere thee.

The Lady againe in welsh.

  Mort. I vnderstand thy Kisses, and thou mine,
And that's a feeling disputation:
But I will neuer be a Truant, Loue,
Till I haue learn'd thy Language: for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as Ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a faire Queene in a Summers Bowre,
With rauishing Diuision to her Lute

   Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will she runne madde.

The Lady speakes againe in Welsh.

  Mort. O, I am Ignorance it selfe in this

   Glend. She bids you,
On the wanton Rushes lay you downe,
And rest your gentle Head vpon her Lappe,
And she will sing the Song that pleaseth you,
And on your Eye-lids Crowne the God of Sleepe,
Charming your blood with pleasing heauinesse;
Making such difference betwixt Wake and Sleepe,
As is the difference betwixt Day and Night,
The houre before the Heauenly Harneis'd Teeme
Begins his Golden Progresse in the East

   Mort. With all my heart Ile sit, and heare her sing:
By that time will our Booke, I thinke, be drawne

   Glend. Doe so:
And those Musitians that shall play to you,
Hang in the Ayre a thousand Leagues from thence;
And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend

   Hotsp. Come Kate, thou art perfect in lying downe:
Come, quicke, quicke, that I may lay my Head in thy
Lappe

   Lady. Goe, ye giddy-Goose.

The Musicke playes.

  Hotsp. Now I perceiue the Deuill vnderstands Welsh,
And 'tis no maruell he is so humorous:
Byrlady hee's a good Musitian

   Lady. Then would you be nothing but Musicall,
For you are altogether gouerned by humors:
Lye still ye Theefe, and heare the Lady sing in Welsh

   Hotsp. I had rather heare (Lady) my Brach howle in
Irish

   Lady. Would'st haue thy Head broken?
  Hotsp. No

   Lady. Then be still

   Hotsp. Neyther, 'tis a Womans fault

   Lady. Now God helpe thee

   Hotsp. To the Welsh Ladies Bed

   Lady. What's that?
  Hotsp. Peace, shee sings.

Heere the Lady sings a Welsh Song.

  Hotsp. Come, Ile haue your Song too

   Lady. Not mine, in good sooth

   Hotsp. Not yours, in good sooth?
You sweare like a Comfit-makers Wife:
Not you, in good sooth; and, as true as I liue;
And, as God shall mend me; and, as sure as day:
And giuest such Sarcenet suretie for thy Oathes,
As if thou neuer walk'st further then Finsbury.
Sweare me, Kate, like a Lady, as thou art,
A good mouth-filling Oath: and leaue in sooth,
And such protest of Pepper Ginger-bread,
To Veluet-Guards, and Sunday-Citizens.
Come, sing

   Lady. I will not sing

   Hotsp. 'Tis the next way to turne Taylor, or be Redbrest
teacher: and the Indentures be drawne, Ile away
within these two howres: and so come in, when yee
will.
Enter.

  Glend. Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow,
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to goe.
By this our Booke is drawne: wee'le but seale,
And then to Horse immediately

   Mort. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Hotspur, Mortimer, Worcester and Glendower meet in Wales. Glendower boasts about how important he is, saying that the earth shook when he was born. Hotspur mocks him and continues to goad him as Glendower persists in his conceited, boastful talk. Then Mortimer brings them to the business at hand. They all look over a map of England, and Mortimer explains how the Archbishop has divided it equally into three portions. Mortimer will get most of the south and east, Glendower gets all of Wales, and Hotspur is to receive the north. The next day they are to travel to Shrewsbury , where they will meet up with Northumberland and Douglas the Scot. Glendower's forces are not yet ready, but Mortimer believes his forces will not be needed anyway for the next two weeks. Glendower says he will join them in less time than that. Hotspur then complains that his share of the country is smaller than those of the other two. He points to a winding stretch of the river Trent that cuts him off from the best of his land. He says he will have the river dammed up and make it flow in a different direction. Glendower protests, saying that further down, the river bends in a way that is to his disadvantage in about the same proportion, so overall they are equal. Mortimer says the course of the river can be altered, but Glendower will have none of it. Hotspur answers him aggressively, and they fall to bickering again, after which Glendower concedes that the river may be redirected. But then Hotspur says he does not care about it, and would give three times that amount of land to a good friend. After Glendower exits, Mortimer chides Hotspur for provoking Glendower. Hotspur says he cannot help it, because Glendower angers him with his endless, meaningless talk. Hotspur finds the Welshman tedious. Mortimer replies that Glendower is a fine gentleman, very well read, knowledgeable, brave and generous. Also, according to Mortimer, Glendower has a high opinion of Hotspur, and lets him get away with saying things to him that he would not put up with if they came from anyone else. Worcester then joins in and rebukes Hotspur for being too willful. Although this quality sometimes produces greatness and courage, it also suggests pride, haughtiness, arrogance, and other faults. Hotspur accepts his rebuke. Glendower returns with Hotspur's wife Kate and Mortimer's Welsh wife, who is weeping at the prospect of losing her husband to the war. She speaks in Welsh, which her husband does not understand. Glendower has to translate for him. She offers to sing for Mortimer, and Glendower magically summons up some music. Hotspur and Kate lie down and listen to the woman sing a Welsh song. Hotspur tries to persuade Kate to sing, but she refuses.