Fal. I call thee coward! I'll fee thee damn'd ere I call thee coward; but I would give a thousand pound I could run as faft as thou canft. You are strait enough in the shoulders, you care not who fees your back call you that backing of your friends? a plague upon fuch backing! give me them that will face meGive me a cup of fack; I am a rogue, if I drunk to day.

P. Henry. O villain, thy lips are scarce wip'd fince thou drunk'st laft.

Fal. All's one for that.

A plague of all cowards, ftill, fay I!

P. Henry. What's the matter?

[He drinks.

Fal. What's the matter! here be four of us, have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.

P. Henry. Where is it, Jack? where is it?

Fal. Where is it? taken from us, it is; a hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Henry. What a hundred, man?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-fword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have efcap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hofe, my buckler cut through and through, my fword hack'd like a hand-faw, ecce fignum. I never dealt better fince I was a man; all would not do. A plague of all cowards! let them fpeak; if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the fons of darkness.

P. Henry. Speak, Sirs, how was it?
Gads. We four set upon fome dozen.
Fal. Sixteen, at leaft, 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 few elfe, an Ebrew Jew.

Gads. As we were fharing, fome fix or seven fresh men fet upon us.

Fal

Fal. And unbound the reft, and then came in the other.

P. Henry. What, fought ye with them all?

Fal. All? I know not, what ye call all; but if Ifought 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.

Poins. Pray heav'n, you have not murthered fome of them.

Fal Nay, that's past praying for. I have pepper'd two of them; two, I am fure, I have pay'd, two rogues in buckram fuits. I tell thee what, Hal, If I tell thee a lie, fpit in my face, call me horse; thou know'ft my old ward; here I lay, and thus I bore my point; four rogues in buckram let drive at me.

P. Henry. What, four? thou faidst but two, even

now.

Fal. Four, Hal, I told thee four.

Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.

: Fal. Thefe four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me; I made no more ado, but took all their feven points in my target, thus.

P. Henry. Seven? why there were but four, even

now.

Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram fuits.

Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
P. Henry. Pr'ythee let him alone, we fhall have

more anon.

Fal. Doft thou hear me, Hal?

P. Henry. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

Fal. Do fo, for it is worth the listning to: these nine in buckram, that I told thee of

P. Henry. So, two more already.
Fal. Their points being broken-
Poins. Down fell his hofe.

Fal

Fal. Began to give me ground; but I follow'd me clofe, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, feven of the eleven I pay'd

P. Henry. O monftrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But as the devil would have it, three mif-begot ten knaves in Kendal green came at my back, and let drive at me; (for it was fo dark, Hal, that thou couldft not fee thy hand.)

P. Henry. These lies are like the father that begets them, grofs as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brain'd guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whorfon obfcene greafie tallow-catch

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

P. Henry. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was fo dark, thou could'st not fee thy hand? come, tell us your reafon: what fay'st thou to this?

Poins, Come, your reafon, Jack, your reason.

Fal. What, upon compulfion? no; were I at the ftrappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulfion. Give you a reafon on compulfion! if reasons were as plenty as black-berries, I would give no man a reafon upon compulsion, I. P. Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this fin. This fanguine coward, this bed-preffer, this horfe-backbreaker, this huge hill of flesh,

Fal. Away, you ftarveling, you (a) eel-skin, you dry'd neats-tongue, bull's pizzel, you ftock-fish: 0 for breath to utter! What is like thee? You taylor's yard, you sheath, you bow-cafe, you vile standing tuck,

P. Henry. Well, breathe a while, and then to't again; and when thou haft tir'd thy felf in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.

[(a) Eel-skin. Oxford Editor.- Vulg. Elf-skin.]

Poins. Mark, Jack.

P. Henry. We two faw you four fet on four, you bound them, and were masters of their wealth: mark now, how a plain tale fhall put you down. Then did we two fet on you four, and with a word, out-fac'd you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can fhew it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carry'd 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 fword as thou haft done, and then say it was in fight— What trick? what device? what ftarting hole, canft thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent fhame?

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 knoweft, I am as valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct, 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 my felf, 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 mony. 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. Henry. Content: and the argument fhall be thy running away.

Fal. Ah!-no more of that, Hal, if thou loveft me,

SCENE

SCENE X.

Enter Hoftefs.

Hoft. O Jefu! my lord the Prince!

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

Hoft. Marry, my lord, there is a Nobleman of the Court at door would fpeak with you; he fays, he comes from your father.

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

ther.

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. Henry. Pr'ythee, do, Jack.

Fal. Faith, and I'll fend him packing.

[Exit. fo

P. Henry. Now, Sirs, by'r lady, you fought fair; did you, Peto; fo did you, Bardolph: you are Lions too, you ran away upon instinct; you will not touch the true Prince; no, fie!

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

P. Henry. Tell me now in earneft; how came FalStaff's fword fo hackt?

Peto. Why, he hackt 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 fpear-grafs, to make them bleed; and then beflubber our garments with it, and fwear it was the blood of true men. I did That I did not these seven years before, I blush'd to hear his monstrous devices.

P. Henry. O villain, thou ftolleft a cup of fack eigh

teen