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on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying---bring in : now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a tlow as the ridge of the gallows.
Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess 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 must 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 my hostess of the tavern?
Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning, many a time and oft.
8. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay tiy part?
Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there,
P. Hen, Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would strelch; 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, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art King? and resolution thus robb’d at it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou arı King, hang a thief,
P. Hen. No; thou shalt.
Fall. Shall I ? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
P. Hen. Thon judgest false already ; I mean, thou shalt bave the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Fal. Well, Hal, well ; aud in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.
. Hen. For obtaining of suits ?
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 bagpipe.
P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy o fMoor-ditch ?
Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes ; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,--sweetyoung Prince,-But, Hal, I prythee, 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 you, Sir; but I mark'd him not: and yet hē talk'al very wisely; but I regarded bim not: and yet he ialk'd wisely, and in the strect too.
P. Hen. Thon did'st well; for wisdom cries ont in the streets, and no man regards it.
Fal, 0, thou hast dampable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harın 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 wickel. I must 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 son in Christendom.
P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad , I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and balle me.,
P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, lo purse-taking.
Enter Poins, at a distance.
Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his crocation. Poins!
Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be sav'd hy merit, what hole in hell were holenough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true man. P. Hen. Good morrow,
Ned. Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. - Whas says Monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sackand-Sugar ? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about tlıy soul, that thou sollest him on Goodfriday last, for a cup of Maderia, 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 deyil his due.
Poins. Then art thou damn’d for keeping thy word with the devil.
P. Hen. Else he had been damn'd for. cozening the devil.
Prins. But, my lads, my lads, 10-inorrow n;orning, by four o'clock, carly at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury will rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat parses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadsbill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow' night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will so, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and he 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. There's. neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blooi royal, if thou darest not stand for ten : shillings.
P. Hen. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a mad-cap.
Fal. Why, that's well said.
P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tari'y at home.
Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art King.
P. Ilen, I care not,
Poins. Sir John, I pristhee, leave the Prince and inc alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.
Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiling, that what thou speakest may move, and what he beats may be believed, that the true Prince inay (for recreation sake,) proie a false thief; for the poor abuses of the tiinc want countenance. Fare-. well; You shall find me in Eastcheap.
P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewel All-hallown summer! [Exii FALSTAFF.
Poins. Now, my good sweet honey Lord, ride with us lo-morrow; I have a jest to execule, that I cannot manage alone. Falstais, Bardolph, Pclo, and Gadshill, shall rob those 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, fut this head from my shoulders.
P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth?
Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint thein a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and theu will they adventure upon the exploit themselves : which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.
P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses and by our habits, and by every oller appointment, to be ourselves.
Poins. Tui! our horses they shall not see, l’il tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, alles we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the uonce, to inmask our noted outward garments,
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 secs reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fit rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper : how thirty, at least, le sought with; what