late; we'll to bed. Thou 'lt forget me, when I am gone.

Doll. By my troth, thou 'lt thou sayest so: prove that handsome till thy return.end.

Fal. Some sack, Francis.

set me a weeping, an ever I dress myself

-Well, hearken the

P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, sir.

[advancing.

Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's?—And art not thou Poins, his brother?

P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead!

Fal. A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.

P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London.-Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art wel[leaning his hand upon Doll. Doll. How! you fat fool, I scorn you.

come.

Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take

not the heat.

P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

Host. Blessing o' your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gadshill: you knew, I was at your back; and spoke it on purpose, to try my patience.

Fal. No, no, no; not so: I did not think thou wast within hearing.

P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you.

Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honor; no abuse. P. Hen. Not! to dispraise me, and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal.

Poins. No abuse!

Fal. No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him ;—in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, boys, none.

P. Hen. See now, whether pure fear, and intire cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us. Is she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? is the boy of the wicked? or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked?

Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

Or

Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too.

P. Hen. For the women,

Fal. For one of them,-she is in hell already, and burns, poor soul! For the other, I owe her money; and whether she be damned for that, I know not.

Host. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which, I think, thou wilt howl.

Host. All victuallers do so. mutton or two in a whole Lent?

P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,
Doll. What says your grace?

What's a joint of

Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.

Host. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.

Enter PETO.

P. Hen. Peto, how now? what news? Peto. The king your father is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north: and, as I came along,