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mour with me; dost not know me? Come, come, I know, thou wast set on to this.
Host. Pr’ythee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles, I am loth to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la.
Fal. Let it alone, I'll make other shift; you'll be a fool still
Hoft. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope, you'll come to supper : you'll pay me all together?
Fal. Will I live? go with her, with her: hook, on, hook on.
Hoft. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at supper? Fal. No more words. 'Let's have her.
Exeunt Hoft. and Serjeant. Ch. Just. I have heard better news. Fal. What's the news, my good lord ? Ch. Juft. Where lay the King last night? Gower. At Basingstoke, my lord. Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well. What is the news.
Ch. Jut. Come all his forces back ?
Gower. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse Are march'd up to my lord of Lancaster, Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.
Fal. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord ?
Ch. Juft. You shall have letters of me presently. Come, go along with me, good Mr. Gower.
Fal. My lord,
Fal, Master Gower, shall I intreat you with me to dinner?
Gower. I must wait upon my good lord here, I thank you, good Sir John.
Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take soldiers up in the countries as you go. Fal. Will you sup with me, master Gower ?
Ch. Juft. What foolish mafter taught you
these manners, Sir John ?
Fal. Mafter Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me. This is the right fencing grace, my lord, tap for táp, and so part fair. Ch. Just. Now the lord lighten thee, thou art a
(Exeunt. SCENE IV:
Continues in LONDON.
P. Henry. T
Enter Prince Henry and Poins.
Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought, weariness durft not have attack'd one of so high blood.
P. Henry. It doth me, though it discolours the com. plexion of my Greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not thew vilely in me to defire small beer ?
Poins. Why, a Prince should not be fo loosely ftudied, 'as to remember fo weak a compofition.
P. Henry. Belike then, my appetite was not princely got; for, in troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But, indeed, these humble confiderations make me out of love with
Greatness. What a disgrace is il to me to remember thy name? or to know thy face to-morrow? or to take note how many pair of silk stockings thou haft? (viz. these, and those that were the peach-colour'd ones ;) or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, as one for superfluity, and one other for use: but that the tennis-courtkeeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of linen with thee, when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy low Countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows, whether those, that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen, fhall inherit his
Kingdom : but the midwives say, the children are not in the fault; whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily strengthened.
Poins. How ill it follows, after you have labour'd so hard, you should talk so idly? tell me, how many good young Princes would do so, their fathers lying so sick as yours at this time is.
P. Henry. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes, and let it be an excellent good thing.
P. Henry. It shall serye among wits of no higher breeding than thine.
Poins. Go to ; I stand the push of your one thing, that you'll tell.
P. Henry. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be sad now my father is fick; albeit, I could tell to thee; (as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend) I could be sad, and sad indeed too.
Puins. Very hardly, upon such a subject.
P. Henry. By this hand, thou think ft me as far in the Devil's book, as thou and ruijcuj, fur obduracy and perfistency. Let the end try the man. But, I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so fick; and keeping such vile company, as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all oftentation of sora row.
Poins. The reason ?
P. Henry. It would be every man's thought, and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks; never a man's thought in the world keeps the roadway better than thine; every man would think me an hypocrite, indeed. And what excites your most worshipful thought to think so ?
Poins. Why, because you have seemed so lewd, and so much ingraffed to Falstaff.
P. Henry. And to thee.
Poins. Nay, by this light, I am well spoken of, I can hear it with mine own ears; the worst they can fay of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands : and those two things, I confefs, I cannot help. Look, look, here comes Bardolph.
P. Henry. And the Boy that I gave Falstaff; he had him from me christian, and, see, if the fat villain have not transform'd him ape.
SCE N E V.
Enter Bardolph and Page.
P. Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, and bashful fool, muft you be blushing ? wherefore blush you now; what a maidenly man at arms are you become? Is it such a matter to get a pottle-pot's maiden-head ?
Page. He callá me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the window; at laft, I spy'd his eyes, and, methought, he had made two holes in the ale-wive's new petticoat, and peep'd through.
P. Henry. Hath not the boy profited ?
Bard. Away, you whorefon upright rabbet, away! I Page. Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away?
P. Henry. Instruct us, boy, what dream, boy?
Page. Marry, my lord, Althea dream'd, she was deliver'd of a firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream. - P. Henry. A crowns-worth of good interpretation; there it is, boy.
(Gives him money. Poins. O that this good blossom could be kept from eankers ! well, there is six pence to preserve thee.
Bard. If you do not make him be hang'd among you, the Gallows shall be wrong'd.
· P. Henry. And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
Bard. Well, my good lord; he heard of your Grace's coming to town. There's a letter for you.
P. Henry. Deliver'd with good respect ?--and how doth the Martlemas, your Master?
Bard. In bodily health, Sir.
Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves not him; though that be fick, it dies
P. Henry. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog; and he holds his place: for, look you, how he writes.
Poins reads. John Falstaf, knight, Every man must know that, as often as he hath occasion to name himself: even like those that are kin to the King, for they never prick their finger but they say, there is some of the King's blood spilt. How comes that? says he, that takes upon him not to conceive: the answer is as ready as a borrower's cap; I am the King's poor cousin, Sir.
P. Henry. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet. But, to the letter:-Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, Greeting.
Poins. Why, this is a certificate.
P. Henry. Peace.
Poins. Sure, h: means brevity in breath; shortwinded.
P. Henry. I commend me to thee, I commend thee, ant I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he miluses thy favours so much, that he swears, thou art to
marry his Sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewel. Thine, by yea and no; which is as much as to Jay, as thou useft him. Jack Falstaff with my familiars : John with my brothers and sisters: and Sir John with all Europe.