play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, fays the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. Enter Falstaff, Gads-hill, Bardolph, and Peto. Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where haft thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I fay, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of fack, boy.Ere I lead this life long, I'll fow nether ftocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards !Give me a cup of fack, rogue.-Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. P. Henry. Didft thou never see Titan kiss a difh of butter? pitiful-hearted' butter, that melted at the sweet tale ' of the fun? if thou didst, then behold that compound. Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this fack too: There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of fack with lime in it; a villainous 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 fhotten herring. There live 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 fay! "I would I were a weaver; I could fing all manner of fongs. A plague of all cowards, I fay ftill! P. Henry. How now, wool-fack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's fon! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects t Rivo,]-drink about. of his fon-Phaton foliciting the chariot. $ Titan. "I would I were a weaver ;]—these artists were always remarkable for finging at the loom, and the puritanical fort of them were much addicted to pfalmody.-I could fing pfalms, &c. "A catch that will draw three fouls out of one weaver." TWELFTH NIGHT, Vol. II. p. 499. Sir To afore thee like a flock of wild geefe, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales ! P. Henry. Why, you whorefon round man! what's the matter? Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? [To Poins. P. Henry. Ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll ftab thee. Fal. I call thee coward! I'll fee thee damn'd ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thoufand pound, I could run as fast as thou canft. You are ftrait enough in the fhoulders, 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 me.-Give me a cup of fack:-I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day. P. Henry. O villain! thy lips are fcarce wip'd fince thou drunk'ft laft. Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, ftill fay I! [He drinks. P. Henry. What's the matter? 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 'fcap'd by miracle. I am eight times thruft 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 speak: if they speak more more or less than truth, they are villains, and the fons of darkness. P. Henry. Speak, firs; How was it? Peto. No, no, they were not bound. Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them or I am a Jew elfe, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were fharing, fome fix or seven fresh men fet upon us, Fal. And unbound the rest, and then came in the other. P. Henry. 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. Poins. Pray heaven, you have not murder'd 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. W P. Henry. What, four? thou faidft but two, even now. Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Poins. Ay, ay, he faid four. Fal. These four came all a front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. Henry. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Fal. In buckram. "ward]-pofture of defence. 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 shall 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 lift'ning to. These nine in buckram, that I told thee of, P. Henry. So, two more already, Fal. Began to give me ground: But I follow'd me clofe, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I pay'd. P. Henry. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three mifbegotten 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. Thefe 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 whorefon, obscene, greafy tallow-keech,— Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth? P. Henry. Why, how could'st thou know thefe men in Kendal green, when it was fo dark thou could'st not fee thy hand? come, tell us your reafon; What fay'it thou to this? * Three points]-(pun) the end of a weapon, and hooks faftened to the waistband of the breeches, going into eyes fixed to the doublet. "I am refolv'd on two points," TWELFTH NIGHT, Vol. II. p. 484. Clo. keech]-round lump-catch, trough-ketch, tub. Poins. Come, your reafon, Jack, your reafon, 2 Fal. What, upon compulfion? No; were I at the strappado, 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 compulfion, I. P. Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this fin; this fanguine coward, this bed-preffer, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh ; b a Fal. Away, you ftarveling, you elf-skin, you dry'd neats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish,-0, for breath to utter what is like thee !-you taylor's yard, you fheath, you bow-cafe, you vile standing tuck ; с P. Henry. Well, breathe a while, and then to it again : and when thou haft tir'd thyself in base comparisons, hear me fpeak but this. Poins. Mark, Jack. P. Henry. We two faw you four fet on four; you bound them, and were mafters 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 hast done; and then say, it was in fight? What trick, what device, what starting hole, canft thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent fhame? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick haft thou now? the frappado,]-a cruel fpecies of punishment practifed at Venice. elf-kin, elfin-little fairey.-eel-fkin. flock-fifb,]-dried cod. © ftanding tuck :]—small sword set upright. Fal. |