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As by discharge of their artillery,
K.Henry. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend,
Weft. In faith, a conquest for a Prince to boast of.
mak’ft me sin
To his own use he keeps, and sends me word,
West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester,
K. Henry. But I have sent for him to answer this; And for this cause a while we must neglect Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. Cousin, on Wednesday next our Council we Will hold at Windfor, fo inform the lords: But come yourself with speed to us again ; For more is to be said, and to be done, Than out of anger can be uttered. Weft. I will, my Liege.
S CE N E II.
An Apartment of the Prince's. Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff. Fal. JOW, Hal, what time of day is it, lad ?
P. Henry. Thou art fo fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbuttoning thee after fupper, and sleeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand That truly, which thou would'st truly know. What a devil haft ihou to do with the time of the day ? unless hours were cups of sack, and minules capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed Sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata; I see no reason why thou Mould't be fo superfluous, to demand the time of the day.
Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal. For we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phæbus, he, that wand'ring knight so fair. And I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art Kingas God save thy Grace, (Majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none.)
P. Henry. What! none ?
Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will serv: 10 be prologue to an egg and butter.
P.Henry. Well, how then? come,roundly,roundly
Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art King, let not us that are squires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's booty. Let us be Diana's forefters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the Moon; and let men fay, we be men of good government, being governed as the Sea is, by our noble and chaste miftress the Moon, under whose counte. narice we -steal.
P. Henry. Thou say'st well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us, that are the Moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the Sea; being govern'd as the Sea is, by the Moon. As for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning ; * got with swearing, lay by; and spent with crying, bring in: now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
Fal. By the lord, thou say'st true, lad : and is not mine Hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench ?
P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle; and is not a buff-jerkin a most sweet robe of durance ?
Fal. How now, how now, mad wag ; what, in thy quips and thy quiddities ? what a plague have I to do with a buff-jerkin ?
P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my Hostess of the tavern ?
Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
* got with swearing, lay by;] i. e. fwearing at the Passengers they robbed, lay by your Arms; or rather, lay by was a Phrase that then signified stand still, addressed to those who were preparing to rush forward.
P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part ?
Fal. No, I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
P. Henry. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would streich; and where it would not, I have us'd my
credit. Fal. Yea, and so us'd it, that were it not here apparent, that thou art heir apparent-But, I proythee, sweet wag, shall there be Gallows standing in England, when thou art King ? and resolution thus fobb’d as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic, the law ? Do not thou, when thou art a King, hang a thief.
P. Henry. No: thou shalt.
Fal. Shall 1? O rare ! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
P. Henry. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou fhalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some fort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell you.
P. Henry. For obtaining of suits?
Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits; whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugg'd bear.
P. Henry. Or an old Lion, or a lover's lute.
P. Henry. What fay'st thou to a Hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?
Fal. Thou hast the most unfavoury fimilies; and art, indeed, the most incomparative, rascalliest, sweet young Prince--But, Hal, I pr’ythee, trouble me no more with vanity ; I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: an old lord of the Council rated me the other day in the street about you, Sir; but I mark'd him not, and yet he talk'd very wisely, and in the street too. ii!
P. Henry. Thou didft well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
Fal. O, thou haft damnable attraction, and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou haft done much harm unto me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over chis life, and I will give it over; by the lord, an I do not, I am a villain. I'll be damnd for never a King's son in christendom.
P. Henry. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.
P. Henry. I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking.
Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no fin for a Man to labour in his vocation. Poins !--Now shall we know, if Gads-hill have set a match. O, if
were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him! SCE E N E III.
Enter Poins. This is the most omnipotent Villain, that ever cry'd, Stand, to a true Man.
P. Henry. Good-morrow, Ned.
Poins. Good-morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monfieur Remorse? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how agree the devil and thou about ihy soul, that thou foldest him on Good-Friday laft, for a cup Madeira, and a cold capon's leg?
P. Henry. Sir John stands to his word; the devil shall have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs; He will give the devil his due.
Poins. Then thou art damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.