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· P. Henry. Thou fay'st true, hostess; and he flanders thee most grossly.
Hoft. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day, you ought him a thousand pound.
P. Henry. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
Fal. A thousand pound, Hal ? a million : thy love is worth a million ; thou ow'st me thy love.
Hoft. Nay, my lord, he caļl'd you Jack, and said, he would cudgel you.
Fal. Did I, Bardolph?
P. Henry. I say, 'tis copper : Dar'st thou be as good as thy word now?
Fal. Why, Hal, thou know'it, as thou art but man, I dare : but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.
P. Henry. And why not, as the lion ?
Fal. The king himself is to be fear'd as the lion : Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father ? nay, an if I do, let my girdle break!
P. Henry. O, if it should, low would thy guts fall abouç thy knees! But, firrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bofom of thine ; it is all fill'd
with guts, and midriff. Charge an honest woman' with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent, * imbofs'd rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee longwinded; if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other 'injuries but these, I am'a villain. And yet you will stand
* imboss?d]—woln, puffy.
to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou nog alham'd?
Fal. Dost chou hear, Hal ? thou know'st, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what thould poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? Thou seest, I have more Alesh than another man; and therefore more frailty,
-You confess then, you pick'd my pocket ?
Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee : Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servant, and cherish thy guests : thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason : thou seeft, I am pacify'd still.-Nay, I pr’ythee, be gone.
[Exit Hostess. Now, Hal, to the news at courte for the robbery, lad, How is that answer'd ?
P. Henry. O my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee : The money is paid back again.
Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour.
P. Henry. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.
Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou do'st, and do it 2 with unwash'd hands too.
Bard. Do, my lord.
Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of two and [wenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the yirtuous; I laud them, I praise them.
P. Henry. Bardolph,
? with unwasb'd bands too.]-immediately, the first thing in the morning, ere you wash.
.-P. Henry. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancaster,
[Exeunt Prince, Poins, and Bard. Fal. Rare words! brave world !
-Hostess, my breakfast; come: O, I could wish, this tavern were my drum ! [Exit.
A CT IV.
The Camp near Sbrewsbury.
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.
go so general current through the world.
the Douglas)—this appellation is conferred, by way of eminence, on the head of that family.
Doug. Thou art the king of honour :
Enter a Messenger.
Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be fick,
Mel. His letters bear his mind, not I.
Mell. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole,
Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprize ; 'Tis catching hither, even to our camp. He writes me here,—that inward sicknessAnd that his friends by deputation could not So soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet, To lay fo dangerous and dear a trust On any • soul remov'd, but on his own. Yet doth he give us bold advertisement That with our small conjunction we should on, To see how fortune is dispos'd to us :
beard him.j-oppose him face to face. • soul remov'd, ]-second hand, person less intereited.
For; as he writes; there is no quailing now;
Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us:
Hot. A perilous galh, a very limb lopt off :-
Doug. Faith, and fo we should ;
Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
Wor. But yet, I would your father had been here.
quailing)—no room for dejection, or delay,
Ś read ]-discover-risqur.