Falstaff. What! art thou mad? art thou mad? Is not the truth the truth?

Prince H. 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.

Falstaff. What! upon compulsion! No! were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you upon compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason on compulsion, I!

Prince H. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. Thou sanguine coward, thou bed-presser, thou horse back-breaker, thou huge hill of flesh

Falstaff. Away! you starveling-you eel-skin-you dried neat's tongue-you stock-fish!-O, for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor's yard-you sheath-you bow-case -you vile standing tuck

Prince H. 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 H. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.-Mark, now, how plain a tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four; and, with a word, outfaced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your mountain-sides away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. 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 ?

Falstaff. Ha! ha! ha! I knew ye, as well as he that made you. Why, hear you, my master--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 a coward-on instinct! I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; myself for a valiant lion, and thee 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 ?

extempore?

Shall we have a play

Prince H. Content;—and the argument shall be, thy running away.

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

Shakspeare.

Ex. 195. Glenalvon, Norval, and Lord Randolph.
Glen. His port I love: he's in a proper mood
To chide the thunder, if at him it roared.-
Has Norval seen the troops?

Norv. The setting sun

With yellow radiance lighted all the vale;

And, as the warriors moved, each polished helm,
Corslet, or spear, glanced back his gilded beams.
The hill they climbed, and, halting at its top,
Of more than mortal size, towering, they seemed
A host angelic, clad in burning arms.

Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host
In sounds more lofty speaks of glorious war.

Norv. If I shall e'er acquire a leader's name,
My speech will be less ardent. Novelty

Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration
Vents itself freely; since no part is mine

Of praise pertaining to the great in arms.

[Aside.

Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir; your martial deeds Have ranked you with the great. But mark me, Norval; Lord Randolph's favour now exalts your youth

Above his veterans of famous service.

Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you :—
Give them all honour; seem not to command;
Else they will hardly brook your late-sprung power,
Which nor alliance props, nor birth adorns.

Norv. Sir, I have been accustomed, all my days,
To hear and speak the plain and simple truth;
And though I have been told that there are men
Who borrow friendship's tongue to speak their scorn,
Yet in such language I am little skilled :

Therefore, I thank Glenalvon for his counsel,
Although it sounded harshly! Why remind
Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power
With such contemptuous terms?

Glen. I did not mean

To gall your pride, which now I see is great.
Norv. My pride!

Glen. Suppress it, as you wish to prosper.

Your pride's excessive. Yet, for Randolph's sake,
I will not leave you to its rash direction.
If thus you swell and frown at high-born men,
Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?
Norv. A shepherd's scorn!

Glen. Yes; if you presume

To bend on soldiers these disdainful eyes,
As if you took the measure of their minds,
And said in secret, 'You're no match for me!'
What will become of you?

Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self
Glen. Ha! dost thou threaten me?!

Norv. Didst thou not hear?

Glen. Unwillingly I did; a noble foe

Had not been questioned thus; But such as thou-
Norv. Whom dost thou think me?

Glen. Norval.

Norv. So I am

And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes?

Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar boy;
At best no more, even if he speaks the truth.

Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth?
Glen. Thy truth! thou'rt all a lie; and basely false
Is the vain-glorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.
Norv. If I were chained, unarmed, or bed-rid old,
Perhaps I should revile; but, as I am,

I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval
Is of a race-who strive not but with deeds!
Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valour,

And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword,

I'd tell thee-what thou art! I know thee well!

Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee?

Norv. Villain, no more!

Draw and defend thy life. I did design

To have defied thee in another cause;

But heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee.

Now for my own and Lady Randolph's wrongs!

[Both draw their swords.

[Lord Randolph, as he advances] Hold! I command you

both! The man that stirs

Makes me his foe.

Norv. Another voice than thine

That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph.

Glen. Hear him, my lord; he's wondrous condescending! Mark the humility of Shepherd Norval!

Nor. Now you may scoff in safety. [Sheathes his sword. Lord Ran. Speak not thus,

Taunting each other, but unfold to me

The cause of quarrel; then I shall judge betwixt you.
Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much,
My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment.
I blush to speak-I will not, cannot speak

The opprobrious words that I from him have borne.
To the liege lord of my dear native land

I owe a subject's homage; but even him
And his high arbitration I'd reject.
Within my bosom reigns another lord--
Honour! sole judge and umpire of itself.
If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph,
Revoke your favours, and let Norval go

Hence as he came; alone-but not dishonoured!

Lord Ran. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice;

The ancient foe of Caledonia's land

Now waves his banner o'er her frighted fields:

Suspend your purpose till your country's arms
Repel the bold invader; then decide

The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.

Norv. And I.

Glen. Norval,

[Lord Randolph retires.

Let not our variance mar the social hour,

Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph.

Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,

Shall stain my countenance. Smooth thou thy brow;
Nor let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment;
When we contend again, our strife is mortal.

Home.

Ex. 196.

Edward and Warwick.

Edw. Let me have no intruders; above all, Keep Warwick from my sight.

Enter WARWICK.

War. Behold him here;

No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask
My Lord of Suffolk's leave. There was a time
When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain
Admission here.

Edw. There was a time, perhaps,

When Warwick more desired, and more deserved it.
War. Never: I've been a foolish faithful slave;
All my best years, the morning of my life,
Hath been devoted to your service: what
Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy!
My spotless name, which never yet the breath
Of calumny had tainted, made the mock
For foreign fools to carp at: but 'tis fit
Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded.
Edw. I thought, my lord, I had full well repaid
Your services with honours, wealth, and power
Unlimited; thy all-directing hand

Guided in secret every latent wheel

Of government, and moved the whole machine:
Warwick was all in all, and powerless Edward
Stood like a cipher in the great account.

War. Who gave that cipher worth, and seated theo On England's throne? Thy undistinguished name Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang

And mouldered in oblivion, had not Warwick

Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore,
And stamped it with a diadem.

Thou know'st

This wretched country, doomed, perhaps, like Rome,
To fall by its own self-destroying hand,
Tost for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil discord, but for me had perished.
In that distressful hour I seized the helm,

Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steered
Your shattered vessel safe into the harbour.

You may despise, perhaps, that useful aid

Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth,
He who forgets a friend deserves a foe.

Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits received

Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.

War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty;

A thrifty saving knowledge; when the debt

Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharged,

A sponge will wipe out all and cost you nothing.

Edw. When you have counted o'er the numerous train

Of mighty gifts your bounty lavished on me,

You may remember next the injuries

Which I have done you let me know them all,

And I will make you ample satisfaction.

War. Thou canst not thou hast robbed me of a jewel,

It is not in thy power to restore :