fet on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can fhow 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 flave 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 fhame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick haft 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't, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware inftinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I fhall 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, fhall we be merry? fhall we have a play extempore?

P. Hen. Content;—and the argument fhall be, thy running away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.

Enter Hoftefs.

Hoft. My lord the prince,

P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what fay'st thou to me?

Hoft. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court

at

at door, would speak with you: he fays, he comes from your father.

P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and fend him back again to my mother.

Fal. What manner of man is he?

Hoft. An old man.

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 fend him packing.

[Exit.

P. Hen. Now, firs; by'r-lady, you fought fair ;—so did you, Peto;-so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon inftinct, you will not touch the true prince; no,-fie!

Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I faw others run.

P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, How came Falstaff's fword fo hack'd?

Peto. Why, he hack'd it with his dagger; and faid, he would fwear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and perfuaded us to do

the like,

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grafs, to make them bleed; and then to beflubber our garments with it, and fwear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year before, I blush'd to hear his monftrous devices.

P. Hen. O villain, thou ftoleft a cup of fack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever fince thou haft blush'd extempore: Thou hadst fire and fword on thy fide, and yet thou ran'ft away; What inftinct hadft thou for it?

Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold thefe exhalations?

P. Hen. I do.

Bard.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Hen. Hot livers, and cold purfes.
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.

Re-enter FALSTAFF.

Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombaft? How long is't ago, Jack, fince thou faw ft thine own knee?

Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waift; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of fighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: here was fir 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 fame;-and his fon-in-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that fprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horse-back up a hill perpendicular.

P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his piftol kills a fparrow 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 fo for running?

Fal.

Fal. O'horfeback, ye cuckoo ! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct.

Fal. I grant ye, upon inftinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: Worcefter is ftolen away to-night; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as ftinking mackarel.

P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there comes a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.

Fal. By the mafs, lad, thou fay'ft true; it is like, we fhall have good trading that way.-But, tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir apparent, could the world pick thee out three fuch enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it?

P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack fome of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comeft to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.

P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I? content:- -This chair fhall be my ftate, this dagger my scepter, and this cushion my crown.

P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden fceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown, for a pitiful bald crown!

Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in paffion, and I will do it in king Cambyfes' vein.

P. Hen.

P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.

Fal, And here is my speech :-Stand aside, nobility.
Hoft. This is excellent sport, i'faith.

Fal. Weep not, fweet queen, for trickling tears are

vain.

Hoft. O the father, how he holds his countenance ! Fal. For God's fake, lords, convey my triftful queen, For tears do ftop the flood-gates of her eyes.

Hoft. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players, as I ever fee.

Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good ticklebrain.Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the fafter it grows, yet youth, the more it is wafted, the fooner it wears. That thou art my fon, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be fon to me, here lies the point ;-Why, being fon to me, art thou fo pointed at? Shall the bleffed fun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be ask'd. Shall the fon of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be afk'd. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in paffion; not in words only, but in woes alfo :-And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.

P. Hen. What manner of man, an it like your majesty? Fal. A good portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleafing eye, and a most noble carriage;

and,