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-P. Henry. Thou fay'ft true, hoftefs; and he flanders thee most grossly.

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

P. Henry. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? Fal. A thoufand pound, Hal? a million: thy love is worth a million; thou ow'ft me thy love.

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

Fal. Did I, Bardolph ?

Bard. Indeed, fir John, you said so.

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

P. Henry. I fay, 'tis copper: Dar'ft thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal. Why, Hal, thou know'it, 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. Henry. 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 if I do, let my girdle break!

P. Henry. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, firrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honefty, in this bofom of thine; it is all fill'd up with guts, and midriff. Charge an honeft woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whorefon, impudent, *imbofs'd rafcal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, 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

imboss'd]-fwoln, puffy.

Y ingredients to pocket injuries was a common phrafe.

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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 seeft, I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty. You confefs then, you pick'd my pocket? P. Henry. It appears fo by the story.

Fal. Hoftefs, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfaft; love thy husband, look to thy fervant, and cherish thy guests: thou fhalt find me tractable to any honeft rea fon: thou feeft, I am pacify'd still.-Nay, I pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit Hoftefs. Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,— How is that answer'd?

P. Henry. O my fweet beef, I must ftill 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. Henry. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

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

Bard. Do, my lord.

P. Henry. I have procur'd 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 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. Henry. Bardolph,

Bard. My lord.

2 with unwash'd bands too.]-immediately, the first thing in the morn ing, ere you wash.

P. Henry.

--P. Henry. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancaster,
My brother John; this to my lord of Weftmoreland.-

Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou, and I,
Have thirty miles to ride ere dinner-time.-

Jack,

Meet me to-morrow in 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 Bard.

Fal. Rare words! brave world!-Hoftefs, my

break

faft; come :

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

[Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

The 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,

2

b

Such attribution fhould 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.

Such attribution]-Such commendation.

the Douglas-this appellation is conferred, by way of eminence,

on the head of that family.

Doug,

Doug. Thou art the king of honour:

No man fo potent breathes upon the ground,

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What letters haft thou there?-I can but thank you.
Mess. These letters come from your father.

Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not himself? Meff. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous fick.; Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be fick, In fuch a juftling time? Who leads his power? Under whofe government come they along?

Melf. His letters bear his mind, not I.

Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth; And at the time of my departure thence,

He was much fear'd by his phyficians.

Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole,

Ere he by fickness had been visited;

His health was never better worth than now.

Hot. Sick now! droop now! this ficknefs doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprize;

'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.————
He writes me here,-that inward fickness---
And that his friends by deputation could not
So foon be drawn; nor did he think it meet,
To lay fo dangerous and dear a trust

d

On any foul remov'd, but on his own.

Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,-
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To fee how fortune is difpos'd to us:

e beard him.]-oppofe him face to face.

d foul remov'd,]-fecond hand, perfon lefs interested.

For,

For; as he writes, there is no quailing now;
Because the king is certainly 'poffefs'd
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's ficknefs is a maim to us.
Hot. A perilous gafh, a very limb lopt off:-
And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his prefent want
Seems more than we fhall find it :-Were it good,
To fet the exact wealth of all our states

All at one caft? to fet fo rich a main

On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good: for therein fhould we read
The very bottom and the foul of hope;
The very lift, the very utmoft bound
Of all our fortunes.

Doug. Faith, and fo we should;

Where now remains a fweet reverfion :
We may boldly fpend upon the hope of what
Is to come in:

A comfort of retirement lives in this.

Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil and mifchance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

Wor. But yet, I would your father had been here.

i

The quality and 1 hair of our attempt

Brooks no divifion: It will be thought
By fome, that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence;
And think, how fuch an apprehenfion

May turn the tide of fearful faction,

e

quailing]-no room for dejection, or delay. f poffefs'd]-informed.

h

read]-difcover-rifqut.

a comfort of retirement]-A refource in referve.

bair]-complexion, caft.

And

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