1241Prin. How now my Lady the Hostesse, what say'st

1242thou to me?

1243Hostesse. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the

1244Court at doore would speake with you: hee sayes, hee

1245comes from your Father.

1246Prin. Giue him as much as will make him a Royall

1247man, and send him backe againe to my Mother.

1248Falst. What manner of man is hee?

1249Hostesse. An old man.

1250Falst. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight?

1251Shall I giue him his answere?

1252Prin. Prethee doe Iacke.

1253Falst. 'Faith, and Ile send him packing. Exit.

1254Prince. Now Sirs: you fought faire; so did you

1255Peto, so did you Bardol: you are Lyons too, you ranne

1256away vpon instinct: you will not touch the true Prince;

1257no, fie.

1258Bard. 'Faith, I ranne when I saw others runne.

1259Prin. Tell mee now in earnest, how came Falstaffes

1260Sword so hackt?

1261Peto. Why, he hackt it with his Dagger, and said, hee

1262would sweare truth out of England, but hee would make

1263you beleeue it was done in fight, and perswaded vs to doe

1264the like.

1265Bard. Yea, and to tickle our Noses with Spear-grasse,

1266to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments

1267with it, and sweare it was the blood of true men. I did

1268that I did not this seuen yeeres before, I blusht to heare

1269his monstrous deuices.

1270Prin. O Villaine, thou stolest a Cup of Sacke eigh-

1271teene yeeres agoe, and wert taken with the manner, and

1272euer since thou hast blusht extempore: thou hadst fire

1273and sword on thy side, and yet thou ranst away; what

1274instinct hadst thou for it?

1275Bard. My Lord, doe you see these Meteors? doe you

1276behold these Exhalations?

1277Prin. I doe

1278Bard. What thinke you they portend?

1279Prin. Hot Liuers, and cold Purses.

1280Bard. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken.

1281Prin. No, if rightly taken, Halter.

1283Heere comes leane Iacke, heere comes bare-bone. How

1284now my sweet Creature of Bombast, how long is't agoe,

1285Iacke, since thou saw'st thine owne Knee?

1286Falst. My owne Knee? When I was about thy yeeres

1287( Hal) I was not an Eagles Talent in the Waste, I could

1288haue crept into any Aldermans Thumbe-Ring: a plague

1289of sighing and griefe, it blowes a man vp like a Bladder.

1290There's villanous Newes abroad; heere was Sir Iohn

1291Braby from your Father; you must goe to the Court in

1292the Morning. The same mad fellow of the North, Percy;

1293and hee of Wales, that gaue Amamon the Bastinado,

1294and made Lucifer Cuckold, and swore the Deuill his true

1295Liege-man vpon the Crosse of a Welch-hooke; what a

1296plague call you him?

1297Poin. O, Glendower.

1298Falst. Owen, Owen; the same, and his Sonne in Law

1299Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and the sprightly

1300Scot of Scots, Dowglas, that runnes a Horse-backe vp a

1301Hill perpendicular.

1302Prin. Hee that rides at high speede, and with a Pistoll

1303kills a Sparrow flying.

1304Falst. You haue hit it.

1305Prin. So did he neuer the Sparrow.

1306Falst. Well, that Rascall hath good mettall in him,

1307hee will not runne.

1308Prin. Why, what a Rascall art thou then, to prayse him

1309so for running?

1310Falst. A Horse-backe (ye Cuckoe) but a foot hee will

1311not budge a foot.

1312Prin. Yes Iacke, vpon instinct.

1313Falst. I grant ye, vpon instinct: Well, hee is there too,

1314and one Mordake, and a thousand blew-Cappes more.

1315Worcester is stolne away by Night: thy Fathers Beard is

1316turn'd white with the Newes; you may buy Land now

1317as cheape as stinking Mackrell.

1318Prin. Then 'tis like, if there come a hot Sunne, and this

1319ciuill buffetting hold, wee shall buy Maiden-heads as

1320they buy Hob-nayles, by the Hundreds.

1321Falst. By the Masse Lad, thou say'st true, it is like wee

1322shall haue good trading that way. But tell me Hal, art

1323not thou horrible afear'd? thou being Heire apparant,

1324could the World picke thee out three such Enemyes a-

1325gaine, as that Fiend Dowglas, that Spirit Percy, and that

1326Deuill Glendower? Art not thou horrible afraid? Doth

1327not thy blood thrill at it?

1328Prin. Not a whit: I lacke some of thy instinct.

1329Falst. Well, thou wilt be horrible chidde to morrow,

1330when thou commest to thy Father: if thou doe loue me,

1331practise an answere.

1332Prin. Doe thou stand for my Father, and examine mee

1333vpon the particulars of my Life.

1334Falst. Shall I? content: This Chayre shall bee my

1335State, this Dagger my Scepter, and this Cushion my

1336Crowne.

1337Prin. Thy State is taken for a Ioyn'd-Stoole, thy Gol-

1338den Scepter for a Leaden Dagger, and thy precious rich

1339Crowne, for a pittifull bald Crowne.

1340Falst. Well, and the fire of Grace be not quite out of

1341thee, now shalt thou be moued. Giue me a Cup of Sacke

1342to make mine eyes looke redde, that it may be thought I

1343haue wept, for I must speake in passion, and I will doe it

1344in King Cambyses vaine.

1345Prin. Well, heere is my Legge.

1346Falst. And heere is my speech: stand aside Nobilitie.

1347Hostesse. This is excellent sport, yfaith.

1348Falst. Weepe not, sweet Queene, for trickling teares

1349are vaine.

1350Hostesse. O the Father, how hee holdes his counte-

1351nance?

1352Falst. For Gods sake Lords, conuey my trustfull Queen,

1353For teares doe stop the floud-gates of her eyes.

1354Hostesse. O rare, he doth it as like one of these harlotry

1355Players, as euer I see.

1356Falst. Peace good Pint-pot, peace good Tickle-braine.

1357Harry, I doe not onely maruell where thou spendest thy

1358time; but also, how thou art accompanied: For though

1359the Camomile, the more it is troden, the faster it growes;

1360yet Youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it weares.

1361Thou art my Sonne: I haue partly thy Mothers Word,

1362partly my Opinion; but chiefely, a villanous tricke of

1363thine Eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether Lippe, that

1364doth warrant me. If then thou be Sonne to mee, heere

1365lyeth the point: why, being Sonne to me, art thou so

1366poynted at? Shall the blessed Sonne of Heauen proue a

1367Micher, and eate Black-berryes? a question not to bee

1368askt. Shall the Sonne of England proue a Theefe, and

1369take Purses? a question to be askt. There is a thing,

1370Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is knowne to