Henry IV, Part II by William Shakespeare
Act 2 - Scene 4
London. The Boar’s Head Tavern in Eastcheap
Second Drawer : Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set a
[p]of apple-johns before
him, and told him there were five more
[p]Johns; and, putting off his
hat, said 'I will now take my
[p]of these six dry, round, old,
withered knights.' It ang'red
[p]to the heart; but he hath forgot
that.
Third Drawer : Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
[p]they'll come in
straight.
Third Drawer : By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be an
[p]excellent
stratagem.
Second Drawer : I'll see if I can find out Sneak.
Doll Tearsheet : Better than I was--hem.
Doll Tearsheet : A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfort
[p]give me?
Doll Tearsheet : I make them! Gluttony and diseases make them: I make them
[p]not.
Doll Tearsheet : Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
Doll Tearsheet : Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
Doll Tearsheet : Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?
[p]There's a
whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him;
[p]have not seen a
hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'll
[p]friends with thee,
Jack. Thou art going to the wars; and
[p]I shall ever see thee again
or no, there is nobody cares.
Doll Tearsheet : Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither; it
[p]the
foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.
Doll Tearsheet : So you do, hostess.
Doll Tearsheet : Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor,
[p]base,
rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy
[p]rogue, away!
I am meat for your master.
Doll Tearsheet : Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By
[p]wine, I'll
thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play
[p]saucy cuttle with
me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you
[p]basket-hilt stale juggler,
you! Since when, I pray you, sir?
[p]God's light, with two points on
your shoulder? Much!
Doll Tearsheet : Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not
[p]to be called
captain? An captains were of my mind, they would
[p]truncheon you out,
for taking their names upon you before you
[p]have earn'd them. You a
captain! you slave, for what? For
[p]a poor whore's ruff in a
bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,
[p]rogue! He lives upon mouldy
stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A
[p]captain! God's light, these
villains will make the word as
[p]as the word 'occupy'; which was an
excellent good word before
[p]was ill sorted. Therefore captains had
need look to't.
Page : Pray thee go down.
Doll Tearsheet : For God's sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure
[p]fustian
rascal.
Doll Tearsheet : I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
Doll Tearsheet : I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you
[p]whoreson
little valiant villain, you!
Doll Tearsheet : Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
[p]sweat'st!
Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you whoreson
[p]chops. Ah, rogue!
i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous
[p]Hector of Troy, worth
five of Agamemnon, and ten times better
[p]than the Nine Worthies. Ah,
villain!
Doll Tearsheet : Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou dost, I'll
[p]thee between a
pair of sheets.
Page : The music is come, sir.
Doll Tearsheet : I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
[p]whoreson
little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
[p]fighting a days
and foining a nights, and begin to patch up
[p]old body for
heaven?
[p] Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as
drawers
Doll Tearsheet : Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?
Doll Tearsheet : They say Poins has a good wit.
Doll Tearsheet : Why does the Prince love him so, then?
Doll Tearsheet : By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
Doll Tearsheet : I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
[p]them
all.
Doll Tearsheet : By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
[p]Prove that
ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.
[p]hearken a' th' end.
Doll Tearsheet : How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
Doll Tearsheet : What says your Grace?
Doll Tearsheet : I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!
[p]Well, sweet
Jack, have a care of thyself.
Previous: Act 2 - Scene 3
Next: Act 3 - Scene 1
