The First Part of King Henry the Fourth

ACT 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 inthe    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 isthe    next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turnedupside    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 Londonroad    for fleas. I am stung like a tench.  1. Car. Like a tench I By the mass, there is ne'er a kingchristen    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 weleak 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 quitestarved.    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 behang'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 givingdirection    doth from labouring: thou layest the plot how.  Cham. Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that Itold    you yesternight. There's a franklin in the Wild of Kent hath    brought three hundred marks with him in gold. I heard himtell it    to one of his company last night at supper- a kind ofauditor;    one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. Theyare    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 thehangman;    for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as a manof    falsehood may.  Gads. What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'llmake    a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs withme,    and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! there are other    Troyans that thou dream'st not of, the which for sport sakeare    content to do the profession some grace; that would (ifmatters    should be look'd into) for their own credit sake make allwhole.    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 greatoneyers,    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 outwater    in foul way?  Gads. She will, she will! Justice hath liquor'd her. We stealas 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 thenight    than to fernseed for your walking invisible.  Gads. Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in ourpurchase, 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 muddyknave.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 seekhim.                                                  [Steps aside.]  Fal. I am accurs'd to rob in that thief's company. The rascalhath    removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I travelbut    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 hiscompany    hourly any time this two-and-twenty years, and yet I ambewitch'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 notbe    else. I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! A plague upon youboth!    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 toleave    these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a    tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and tenmiles    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 memy    horse, you rogues! give me my horse and be hang'd!  Prince. [comes forward] Peace, ye fat-guts! Lie down, lay thineear    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 thecoin    in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt methus?  Prince. Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.  Fal. I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, goodking's    son.  Prince. Out, ye rogue! Shall I be your ostler?  Fal. Go hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If Ibe    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 mypoison.    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 ofthe    King's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the King'sexchequer.  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 yourencounter,    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 yetno    coward, Hal.  Prince. Well, we leave that to the proof.  Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. Whenthou    need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell and standfast.  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 manto    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 fatchuffs;    I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves!    young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye? We'll jureye,    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 andI    rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would beargument    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 beforeday.    An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no    equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins than ina    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 wellcontented to    be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.' He couldbe    contented- why is he not then? In respect of the love hebears    our house! He shows in this he loves his own barn better thanhe    loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The purpose youundertake    is dangerous'– Why, that's certain! 'Tis dangerous to take a    cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, outof    this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'Thepurpose    you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have nameduncertain,    the time itself unsorted, and your whole plot too light forthe    counterpoise of so great an opposition.' Say you so, say youso?    I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, andyou    lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is agood    plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good    plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellentplot,    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 brainhim    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 nextmonth,    and are they not some of them set forward already? What apagan    rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very    sincerity of fear and cold heart will he to the King and layopen    all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go tobuffets    for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable anaction!    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 thyhand    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 drawersand    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; andtell    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 youplay it    off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter ofan    hour that I can drink with any tinker in his own languageduring    my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour thatthou    wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned- to sweetenwhich    name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'deven    now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spakeother    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, todrive    away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand insome    by-room while I question my puny drawer to what end be gaveme    the sugar; and do thou never leave calling 'Francis!' thathis    tale to me may be nothing but 'Anon!' Step aside, and I'llshow    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 playthe    coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heelsand    run from it?  Fran. O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in EnglandI    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 gavestme-    '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 whenthou    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; forlook    you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. InBarbary,    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 themselveshumours    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 upstairsand    downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am notyet    of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills mesome    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.' 'Omy    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 pritheecall in    Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damn'd brawn shall playDame    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!