Prince Henry. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! if thou didst, then behold that compound.

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack, too! There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack 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 shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and, one of them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say! J would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or anything: A plague of all cowards, I say, still.

P. Hen. How now wool-sack? what mutter you?

Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales!

P. Hen Why, what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there?

Poins. "Zounds, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee hanged ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me.-Give me a cup of sack; I am a rogue if I drunk to-day.

P. Hen. O villain, thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunk'st last.

Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I.

[He drinks

P. Hen. What's the matter? Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it?

Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Hen. What, a hundred, man?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four, through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man; all would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of darkness.

P. Hen. Speak, sirs, how was it?

Gadshill. We four set upon some dozen,—

Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord.

Gads. And bound them.

Peto. No, nc, t'hey were not bound.

Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us.

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the others. P. Hen. What, fought you with them all?

Fal. All? I know not what ye 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 I am no two-legged creature.

Pins. 'Pray God, you have not murdered some of them. F. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward; -here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me,

P. Hon. What, four? thou saidst but two, even now.
Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four.

Poins. Ay, ay, he said 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. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now.
Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Av, four, in buckram suits.

Ful. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.

P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in buckram, that I told thee of,

P. Hen. So, two more already.

Fal. Their points being broken, they began to give me ground: but I followed me close, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Hen. Oh, monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But as it happened, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou could'st not see thy hand.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained, knotty-pated fool; thou tallow-keech!

Fal. What! art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

P. Hen. 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.

Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin: this sanguine coward, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh;

Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat'stongue, you stock-fish!-O, for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor's yard, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck:

P. Hen. 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.

P. Hen. 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 a 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?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now? Fal. Ha, ha, ha! I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heirapparent. 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; I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, 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? shall we have a play extempore?

P. Hen. Content,-and the argument shall be, thy running away.

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

A VACATION HYMN.

Once again we are gathered here,
Noting the closing day;
Looking back on the by-gone year,
Thinking of all its love and cheer,
What has it brought, to us most dear,
And that will not pass away?

YYY

Gather the links, gather the links,
Hold them up to the light;

Fasten them on to the golden chain,
And keep them pure and bright!

Lessons we've learned in the months now past,
Truths that have touched the heart;

Gather them up and bind them fast,
Treasure the best from first to last,
That a spell may be ever in memory cast,-
That the good shall not depart!

Thoughts of the dear All-Father's love,
Drawing us near to Him;

Times when we've felt His spirit move,
Wakening in us our purest love;

Let us cherish all these, that they may prove
Helps when our faith is dim.

That all we have learned, and felt, and known,
In this last happy year;

May be only in added blessing shown,
Proving in truth we are not alone,
That One who is with us the work will own,
And is bidding us not to fear.

Then when our minglings here are o'er,
And the end of time shall come;
The chain of love we had known before,
Will reach from earth to the other shore,
And a Saviour's hand will guide us o'er,
To the endless joys of home.

Gather the links, gather the links,
Hold them up to the light;
Fasten them on to the golden chain
And keep them pure and bright!