P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Fal. In buckram. Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. else. or I am a villain P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. Fal. Their points being broken, Fal. Began to give me ground: But I follow'd me close, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I pay'd. P. Hen. 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 could'st not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brain'd guts; thou knotted-pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-keech,— Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth? P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thon could'st not see thy hand? come, tell us your reason; What say'st thou to this? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your rea son. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I 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 plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh; - Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried meats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stockfish-O, for breath to utter what is like thee! —you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck; -- P. Hen. Well, breathe a while, and then to it again and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this. Poins. Mark, Jack. you P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; 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, out-faced 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 ran and roar'd, as ever I heard bull-calf. 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 ye, my Masters: Was it for me, to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true Prince? Why, thou know'st, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true Priuce. Instinct is a great matter; I was 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? P. Hen. Content; - and the argument shall be, thy running away. Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lo vest me. Enter Hostess. Host. My Lord the Prince, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what say'st thou to me? Host. Marry, my Lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you: he comes from your father. P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother. Fal. What manner of man is he? Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I give him his answer? P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack. Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. \Exit. P. Hen. Now, Sirs; by'r-lady, you fought fair;-so did you, Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon instinet, you will not touch the true Prince: no, fie! Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, How came Falstaff's sword so hack'd? Peto. Why, he hack'd it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like. Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass, to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our garments with it, and swear it was the. blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year before, I blush'd to hear his monstrous devices. P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast blush'd extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; what instinct hadst thou for it? Bard. My Lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations? P. Hen. I do. Bard. What think you they portend? Re-enter FALSTAFF. Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now my sweet creature of bombast? How long is't ago, Jack, since thou saw'st thine own knee? : a Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news broad here was sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook,— What, a plague, call you him? Poins. O, Glendower. Fal, Owen, Owen; the same; and his sonin-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that sprightly Scot of Scot's, Douglas, that runs o'horse-back up a hill perpendicular. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it. P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running? Fal. O'horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot. P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand |