my

FAL. By the Lord, thou fay'st true, lad.

And is not

hoftefs of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. HEN. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

FAL. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

P. HEN. Why, what a pox have I to do with have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

FAL. Well, thou haft call'd her to a reckoning, many a time and oft.

P. HEN. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? FAL. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

P. HËN. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would ftretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit.

FAL. Yea, and so used it, that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, fhall there be gallows ftanding in England when thou art king? and refolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rufty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

P. HEN. No; thou fhalt.

FAL. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

P. HEN. Thọu judgeft falfe already; I mean, thou fhalt have the hanging of the thieves, and fo become a rare hangman.

FAL. Well, Hal, well; and in some fort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

P. HEN. For obtaining of fuits?

FAL. Yea, for obtaining of suits; whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugg'd bear.

P. HEN. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute.

FAL. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bag-pipe. P. HEN. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?

FAL. Thou haft the most unfavoury fimiles; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rafcallieft,-fweet young prince,―But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about fir; but I mark'd him not: and you, yet he talk'd very wifely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talk'd wifely, and in the street too.

P. HEN. Thou did'ft well; for wifdom cries out in the ftreets, and no man regards it.

FAL. O, thou haft damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a faint. Thou haft done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better. than one of the wicked. I muft give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damn'd for never a king's fon in Christendom.

P. HEN. Where fhall we take a purfe to-morrow, Jack? FAL. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.

P. HEN. I fee a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking.

Enter POINS, at a distance.

FAL. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no fin for

a man to labour in his vocation. Poins! Now fhall we know if Gadshill have fet a match. O, if men were to be fav'd by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for. him! This is the moft omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true man.

P. HEN. Good morrow, Ned.

POINS. Good morrow, fweet Hal.-What fays monfieur Remorse? What fays fir John Sack-and-sugar? Jack, how agrees. the devil and thee about thy foul, that that thou foldest him on Good-friday laft, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg?

P. HEN. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give his devil his due.

POINS. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.

P. HEN. Elfe he had been damn'd for cozening the devil.

POINS. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester; I have bespoke fupper to-morrow night in Eaftcheap; we may do it as fecure as fleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purfes full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hang'd.

FAL. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going.

POINS. You will, chops?

FAL. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. HEN. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. FAL. There's neither honefty, manhood, nor good fel

lowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou dareft not ftand for ten fhillings.

P. HEN. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a mad-cap. FAL. Why, that's well faid.

P. HEN. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

FAL. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

P. HEN. I care not.

POINS. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down fuch reafons for this adventure, that he shall go.

FAL. Well, may'ft thou have the fpirit of perfuafion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may (for recreation fake,) prove a falfe thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: You fhall find me in Eaftcheap.

P. HEN. Farewell, thou latter fpring! Farewell Allhallown fummer! [Exit FALSTAFF.

POINS. Now, my good fweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jeft to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, fhall rob thofe men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and I, will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my

fhoulders.

P. HEN. But how fhall we part with them in setting forth?

POINS. Why, we will fet forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves: which they fhall have no fooner achieved, but we'll fet upon them.

VOL. III.

S

P. HEN. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horfes, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.

POINS. Tut! our horfes they shall not fee, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, firrah, I have cafes of buckram for the to immask our noted outward garments.

nonce,

P. HEN. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for us. POINS. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he fees reafon, I'll forfwear arms. The virtue of this jeft will be, the incomprehenfible lies that this fame fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at fupper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jeft.

P. HEN. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things neceffary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eaftcheap, there I'll fup. Farewell.

POINS. Farewell, my lord.

[Exit POINS. P. HEN. I know you all, and will a while uphold

The unyok'd humour of your idlenefs:

Yet herein will I imitate the fun ;

Who doth permit the bafe contagious clouds.
To fmother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours, that did feem to ftrangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To fport would be as tedious as to work;
But, when they feldom come, they wifh'd-for come,
And nothing pleafeth but rare accidents.