The First Part of King Henry the Fourth
TextACT II. Scene I. Rochester. An inn yard
Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.
1. Car. Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd.
Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not
pack'd. – What, ostler!
Ost. [within] Anon, anon.
1. Car. I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in
the
point. Poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.
Enter another Carrier.
2. Car. Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is
the
next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turned
upside
down since Robin Ostler died.
1. Car. Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose.
It
was the death of him.
2. Car. I think this be the most villanous house in all London
road
for fleas. I am stung like a tench.
1. Car. Like a tench I By the mass, there is ne'er a king
christen
could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.
2. Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we
leak in
your chimney, and your chamber-lye breeds fleas like a loach.
1. Car. What, ostler! come away and be hang'd! come away!
2. Car. I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be
delivered as far as Charing Cross.
1. Car. God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite
starved.
What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy
head? Canst not hear? An 'twere not as good deed as drink to
break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be
hang'd!
Hast no faith in thee?
Enter Gadshill.
Gads. Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
1. Car. I think it be two o'clock.
Gads. I prithee lend me this lantern to see my gelding in the
stable.
1. Car. Nay, by God, soft! I know a trick worth two of that,
i' faith.
Gads. I pray thee lend me thine.
2. Car. Ay, when? canst tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth he?
Marry,
I'll see thee hang'd first!
Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
2. Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee.
Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen. They will
along with company, for they have great charge.
Exeunt [Carriers]
Gads. What, ho! chamberlain!
Enter Chamberlain.
Cham. At hand, quoth pickpurse.
Gads. That's even as fair as- 'at hand, quoth the chamberlain';
for
thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving
direction
doth from labouring: thou layest the plot how.
Cham. Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that I
told
you yesternight. There's a franklin in the Wild of Kent hath
brought three hundred marks with him in gold. I heard him
tell it
to one of his company last night at supper- a kind of
auditor;
one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They
are
up already and call for eggs and butter. They will away
presently.
Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' clerks,
I'll
give thee this neck.
Cham. No, I'll none of it. I pray thee keep that for the
hangman;
for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as a man
of
falsehood may.
Gads. What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'll
make
a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with
me,
and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! there are other
Troyans that thou dream'st not of, the which for sport sake
are
content to do the profession some grace; that would (if
matters
should be look'd into) for their own credit sake make all
whole.
I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny
strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms;
but
with nobility, and tranquillity, burgomasters and great
oneyers,
such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak,
and
speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray; and yet,
zounds, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the
commonwealth, or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her,
for
they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.
Cham. What, the commonwealth their boots? Will she hold out
water
in foul way?
Gads. She will, she will! Justice hath liquor'd her. We steal
as in
a castle, cocksure. We have the receipt of fernseed, we walk
invisible.
Cham. Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the
night
than to fernseed for your walking invisible.
Gads. Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in our
purchase, as
I and a true man.
Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
Gads. Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler
bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy
knave.
Exeunt
Scene II. The highway near Gadshill
Enter Prince and Poins.
Poins. Come, shelter, shelter! I have remov'd Falstaff's horse,
and
he frets like a gumm'd velvet.
Prince. Stand close. [They step aside.]
Enter Falstaff.
Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hang'd! Poins!
Prince. I comes forward I Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal! What a
brawling dost thou keep!
Fal. Where's Poins, Hal?
Prince. He is walk'd up to the top of the hill. I'll go seek
him.
[Steps aside.]
Fal. I am accurs'd to rob in that thief's company. The rascal
hath
removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I travel
but
four foot by the squire further afoot, I shall break my wind.
Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his
company
hourly any time this two-and-twenty years, and yet I am
bewitch'd
with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me
medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd. It could not
be
else. I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! A plague upon you
both!
Bardolph! Peto! I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An
'twere not as good a deed as drink to turn true man and to
leave
these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a
tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten
miles
afoot with me, and the stony-hearted villains know it well
enough. A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to
another! (They whistle.) Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me
my
horse, you rogues! give me my horse and be hang'd!
Prince. [comes forward] Peace, ye fat-guts! Lie down, lay thine
ear
close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of
travellers.
Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?
'Sblood,
I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again for all the
coin
in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me
thus?
Prince. Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
Fal. I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good
king's
son.
Prince. Out, ye rogue! Shall I be your ostler?
Fal. Go hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I
be
ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you
all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my
poison.
When a jest is so forward- and afoot too- I hate it.
Enter Gadshill, [Bardolph and Peto with him].
Gads. Stand!
Fal. So I do, against my will.
Poins. [comes fortward] O, 'tis our setter. I know his voice.
Bardolph, what news?
Bar. Case ye, case ye! On with your vizards! There's money of
the
King's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the King's
exchequer.
Fal. You lie, ye rogue! 'Tis going to the King's tavern.
Gads. There's enough to make us all.
Fal. To be hang'd.
Prince. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned
Poins and I will walk lower. If they scape from your
encounter,
then they light on us.
Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight or ten.
Fal. Zounds, will they not rob us?
Prince. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet
no
coward, Hal.
Prince. Well, we leave that to the proof.
Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. When
thou
need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell and stand
fast.
Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd.
Prince. [aside to Poins] Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins. [aside to Prince] Here, hard by. Stand close.
[Exeunt Prince and Poins.]
Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I. Every man
to
his business.
Enter the Travellers.
Traveller. Come, neighbour.
The boy shall lead our horses down the hill;
We'll walk afoot awhile and ease our legs.
Thieves. Stand!
Traveller. Jesus bless us!
Fal. Strike! down with them! cut the villains' throats! Ah,
whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth.
Down
with them! fleece them!
Traveller. O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat
chuffs;
I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves!
young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye? We'll jure
ye,
faith!
Here they rob and bind them. Exeunt
Enter the Prince and Poins [in buckram suits].
Prince. The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and
I
rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be
argument
for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.
Poins. Stand close! I hear them coming.
[They stand aside.]
Enter the Thieves again.
Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before
day.
An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no
equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins than in
a
wild duck.
[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
them. THey all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or
two, runs awasy too, leaving the booty behind them.]
Prince. Your money!
Poins. Villains!
Prince. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse.
The thieves are scattered, and possess'd with fear
So strongly that they dare not meet each other.
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death
And lards the lean earth as he walks along.
Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd! Exeunt.
Scene III. Warkworth Castle
Enter Hotspur solus, reading a letter.
Hot. 'But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well
contented to
be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.' He could
be
contented- why is he not then? In respect of the love he
bears
our house! He shows in this he loves his own barn better than
he
loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The purpose you
undertake
is dangerous'– Why, that's certain! 'Tis dangerous to take a
cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out
of
this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The
purpose
you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named
uncertain,
the time itself unsorted, and your whole plot too light for
the
counterpoise of so great an opposition.' Say you so, say you
so?
I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and
you
lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a
good
plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good
plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent
plot,
very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why,
my
Lord of York commends the plot and the general course of the
action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain
him
with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and
myself; Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen
Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all
their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next
month,
and are they not some of them set forward already? What a
pagan
rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very
sincerity of fear and cold heart will he to the King and lay
open
all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to
buffets
for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an
action!
Hang him, let him tell the King! we are prepared. I will set
forward to-night.
Enter his Lady.
How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours.
Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed,
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tent,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles ill a late-disturbed stream,
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Hot. What, ho!
[Enter a Servant.]
Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot. What horse? A roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv. It is, my lord.
Hot. That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight. O esperance!
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
[Exit Servant.]
Lady. But hear you, my lord.
Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away?
Hot. Why, my horse, my love- my horse!
Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss'd with. In faith,
I'll know your business, Harry; that I will!
I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise; but if you go-
Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto this question that I ask.
I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell my all things true.
Hot. Away.
Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not;
I care not for thee, Kate. This is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips.
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too. Gods me, my horse!
What say'st thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have with me?
Lady. Do you not love me? do you not indeed?
Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am a-horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you. Kate:
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout.
Whither I must, I must; and to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no farther wise
Than Harry Percy's wife; constant you are,
But yet a woman; and for secrecy,
No lady closer, for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know,
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
Lady. How? so far?
Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
Will this content you, Kate,?
Lady. It must of force. Exeunt.
Scene IV. Eastcheap. The Boar's Head Tavern
Enter Prince and Poins.
Prince. Ned, prithee come out of that fat-room and lend me thy
hand
to laugh a little.
Poins. Where hast been, Hal?
Prince,. With three or four loggerheads amongst three or
fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very bass-string of
humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers
and
can call them all by their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and
Francis. They take it already upon their salvation that,
though
I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and
tell
me flatly I am no proud Jack like Falstaff, but a Corinthian,
a
lad of mettle, a good boy (by the Lord, so they call me!),
and
when I am King of England I shall command all the good lads
Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dying scarlet; and when
you breathe in your watering, they cry 'hem!' and bid you
play it
off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of
an
hour that I can drink with any tinker in his own language
during
my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour that
thou
wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned- to sweeten
which
name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'd
even
now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spake
other
English in his life than 'Eight shillings and sixpence,' and
'You
are welcome,' with this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir!
Score
a pint of bastard in the Half-moon,' or so- but, Ned, to
drive
away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand in
some
by-room while I question my puny drawer to what end be gave
me
the sugar; and do thou never leave calling 'Francis!' that
his
tale to me may be nothing but 'Anon!' Step aside, and I'll
show
thee a precedent.
Poins. Francis!
Prince. Thou art perfect.
Poins. Francis! [Exit Poins.]
Enter [Francis, a] Drawer.
Fran. Anon, anon, sir. – Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.
Prince. Come hither, Francis.
Fran. My lord?
Prince. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-
Poins. [within] Francis!
Fran. Anon, anon, sir.
Prince. Five year! by'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of
Pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play
the
coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels
and
run from it?
Fran. O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in England
I
could find in my heart-
Poins. [within] Francis!
Fran. Anon, sir.
Prince. How old art thou, Francis?
Fran. Let me see. About Michaelmas next I shall be-
Poins. [within] Francis!
Fran. Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.
Prince. Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest
me-
'twas a pennyworth, wast not?
Fran. O Lord! I would it had been two!
Prince. I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask me when
thou
wilt, and, thou shalt have it.
Poins. [within] Francis!
Fran. Anon, anon.
Prince. Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; or,
Francis, a Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But
Francis-
Fran. My lord?
Prince. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,
not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch-
Fran. O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
Prince. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink; for
look
you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. In
Barbary,
sir, it cannot come to so much.
Fran. What, sir?
Poins. [within] Francis!
Prince. Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them call?
Here 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?
Look
to the guests within. [Exit Francis.] My lord, old Sir John,
with
half-a-dozen more, are at the door. Shall I let them in?
Prince. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.
[Exit Vintner.]
Poins!
Poins. [within] Anon, anon, sir.
Enter Poins.
Prince. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the
door. Shall we be merry?
Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what cunning
match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come,
what's
the issue?
Prince. I am now of all humours that have showed themselves
humours
since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this
present this twelve o'clock at midnight.
[Enter Francis.]
What's o'clock, Francis?
Fran. Anon, anon, sir. [Exit.]
Prince. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a
parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs
and
downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not
yet
of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me
some
six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands,
and
says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.' 'O
my
sweet Harry,' says she, 'how many hast thou kill'd to-day?'
'Give my roan horse a drench,' says he, and answers 'Some
fourteen,' an hour after, 'a trifle, a trifle.' I prithee
call in
Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damn'd brawn shall play
Dame
Mortimer his wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs,
call
in tallow.
Enter Falstaff, [Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto; Francis follows with wine]
Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! Marry and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? He drinketh. Prince. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? Pitiful-hearted butter, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! If thou didst, then behold that compound. Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too! There is nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man. Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it- a villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack, die when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There lives not three good men unhang'd in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old. God help the while! A bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or anything. A plague of all cowards I say still! Prince. How now, woolsack? What mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales? Prince. Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? Fal. Are not you a coward? Answer me to that- and Poins there? Poins. Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the Lord, I'll stab thee. Fal. I call thee coward? I'll see thee damn'd ere I call thee coward, but I would give a thousand pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care not who sees Your back. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack. I am a rogue if I drunk to-day. Prince. O villain! thy lips are scarce wip'd since thou drunk'st last. Fal. All is one for that. (He drinketh.) A plague of all cowards still say I. Prince. What's the matter? Fal. What's the matter? There be four of us here have ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. Prince. Where is it, Jack? Where is it? Fal. Where is it, Taken from us it is. A hundred upon poor four of us! Prince. What, a hundred, man? Fal. I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hack'd like a handsaw- ecce signum! I never dealt better since I was a man. All would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak, If they speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. Prince. Speak, sirs. How was it? Gads. We four set upon some dozen- Fal. Sixteen at least, my lord. Gads. And bound them. Peto. No, no, they were not bound. Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them, or I am a Jew else- an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men sea upon us- Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. Prince. What, fought you with them all? Fal. All? I know not what you call all, but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish! If there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legg'd creature. Prince. Pray God you have not murd'red some of them. Fal. Nay, that's past praying for. I have pepper'd two of them. Two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal- if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward. Here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me. Prince. What, four? Thou saidst but two even now. Fal. Four, Hal. I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. Fal. These four came all afront and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven points in my target, thus. Prince. Seven? Why, there were but four even now. Fal. In buckram? Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. Prince. [aside to Poins] Prithee let him alone. We shall have more anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? Prince. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. Fal. Do so, for it is worth the list'ning to. These nine in buckram that I told thee of- Prince. So, two more already. Fal. Their points being broken- Poins. Down fell their hose. Fal. Began to give me ground; but I followed me close, came in, foot and hand, and with a thought seven of the eleven I paid. Prince. O monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out of two! Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand. Prince. These lies are like their father that begets them- gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brain'd guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch- Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? Is not the truth the truth? Prince. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason. What sayest thou to this? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were at the strappado or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. Prince. I'll be no longer guilty, of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh- Fal. 'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, you bull's sizzle, you stockfish- O for breath to utter what is like thee! – you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bowcase, you vile standing tuck! Prince. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this. Poins. Mark, Jack. Prince. We two saw you four set on four, and bound them and were masters of their wealth. Mark now how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four and, with a word, outfac'd you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roar'd for mercy, and still run and roar'd, as ever I heard bullcalf. What a slave art thou to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting hole canst thou now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack. What trick hast thou now? Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear you, my masters. Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon 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 now a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself, and thee, during my life- I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to the doors. Watch to-night, pray to-morrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play extempore? Prince. Content- and the argument shall be thy running away. Fal. Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!