and had my pocket pick'd: this house is turn'd bawdyhouse, they pick pockets.

P. Hen. What didst thou lofe, Jack?

Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.

P. Hen. A trifle, fome eight-penny matter.

Hoft. So I told him, my lord; and I said, I heard your grace fay fo: And, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is; and faid, he would eudgel you.

P. Hen. What! he did not?

Hoft. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

Fal. There's no more faith in thee, than in a stew'd prune; nor no more truth in thee, than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee, Go, you thing, go,

Hoft. Say, what thing? what thing?

Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God on.

Hoft. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou fhould't know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, fetting thy kinghthood afide, thou art a knave to call me fo. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to fay otherwise.

Hoft. Say, what beaft, thou knave thou?

Fal. What beaft? why, an otter.

P. Hen. An otter, fir John! why an otter?

Fal. Why? fhe's neither fish, nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.

Hoft. Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave thou!

P. Hen. Thou fay'ft true, hoftess; and he flanders thee moft grofsly.

Hoft. So he doth you, my lord; and faid this other day, you ought him a thousand pound.

P. Hen. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou oweft me thy love.

Hoft. Nay, my lord, he call'd your Jack, and faid, he would cudgel you.

Fal. Did I, Bardolph ?

Bard. Indeed, fir John, you faid fo.

Fal. Yea; if he said, my ring was copper.

P. Hen. I fay, 'tis copper: Dareft thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal. Why, Hal, thou know'st, as thou art but man, I dare but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.

:

P. Hen. And why not, as the lion?

Fal. The king himself is to be fear'd as the lion: Doft thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God, my girdle break!

P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, firrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bofom of thine; it is all fill'd up with guts, and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whorefon, impudent, emboss'd rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavernreckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of fugar-candy to make thee longwinded; if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou not afham'd?

Fal. Doft thou hear, Hal? thou know'ft, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? Thou feest, I have more

flesh

flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.-You confefs then, you pick'd my pocket?

P. Hen. It appears so by the story.

Fal. Hoftefs, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy fervants, cherish thy guests; thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou feelt, I am pacified.-Still ?-Nay, pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit Hoftefs.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,-How is that answer'd?

P. Hen. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee:-The money is paid back again.

Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour.

P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou do'st, and do it with unwash'd hands too.

Bard. Do, my lord.

P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where fhall I find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the age of two and twenty, or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for thefe rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them.

P. Hen. Bardolph,-

Bard. My lord.

P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lançafter, My brother John; this to my lord of Weftmoreland.

Go, Poins, to horse, to horfe; for thou, and I,

Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.--
Jack,

Meet me to-morrow i' the Temple-hall

At two o'clock i' the afternoon :

There fhalt thou know thy charge; and there receive
Money, and order for their furniture.

The land is burning; Percy ftands on high;

And either they, or we, muft lower lie.

[Exeunt Prince, POINS, and BARDOLPH.

Fal. Rare words! brave world!--Hostess, my break

faft; come:

O, I could wish, this tavern were my drum!

[Exit.

ACT

ACT IV. SCENE I.

The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS.

Hot. Well faid, my noble Scot: If speaking truth,
In this fine age, were not thought flattery,
Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a foldier of this season's stamp
Should go fo general current through the world.
By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy

The tongues of foothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
Doug. Thou art the king of honour:

No man fo potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard him.

Hot.

Do fo, and 'tis well:

Enter a Meffenger, with Letters.

What letters haft thou there?—I can but thank you.
Mes. These letters come froin your father,-
Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not himself?
Me. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous fick.
Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick,
In fuch a juftling time? Who leads his power?
Under whofe government come they along?

Me. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
Me. He did, my lord, four days ere I fet forth;

And