The First Part of Henry the Fourth
Page: 3

I shall haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife

West. This is his Vnckles teaching. This is Worcester
Maleuolent to you in all Aspects:
Which makes him prune himselfe, and bristle vp
The crest of Youth against your Dignity

King. But I haue sent for him to answer this:
And for this cause a-while we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Ierusalem.
Cosin, on Wednesday next, our Councell we will hold
At Windsor, and so informe the Lords:
But come your selfe with speed to vs againe,
For more is to be saide, and to be done,
Then out of anger can be vttered

West. I will my Liege.

Exeunt.

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