with me; dost not know me? know thou wast set on to this. Come, come, I Host. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' faith I am loath to pawn my plate, in good earnest, la. Fal. Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a fool still. Host. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope, you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? Fal. Will I live?-[To Bardolph.] Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. Host. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at supper? Fal. No more words; let's have her. [Exeunt Hostess, BARDOLPH, Officers, and Page. Ch. Just. I have heard better news. Fal. What's the news, my good lord? Fal. I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? Ch. Just. Come all his forces back? Gow. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, Are marched up to my Lord of Lancaster, Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. Fal. Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? Ch. Just. You shall have letters of me presently. Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. Fal. My lord ! Ch. Just. What's the matter? Fal. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? Gow. I must wait upon my good lord here: I thank you, good Sir John. Ch. Just. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go. Fal. Will you sup with me, Master Gower? Ch. Just. What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? Fal. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me.—This is the right fencing grace, my lord! tap for tap, and so part fair. Ch. Just. Now, the lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Same. Another Street. Enter Prince HENRY and POINS. P. Hen. Trust me, I am exceeding weary. Poins. Is it come to that? I had thought, weariness durst not have attached one of so high blood. P. Hen. 'Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to remember so weak a composition. P. Hen. Belike, then, my appetite was not princely got; for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But, indeed, these humble considerations make me out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace it is to me to remember thy name? or to know thy face to-morrow ? or to take note of how many pair of silk stockings thou hast ; namely, these, and those that were thy peach-coloured ones? or to bear the inventory of thy shirts; as, one for superfluity, and one other for use?—but that the tennis-court-keeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of linen with thee, when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest of thy low-countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland and God knows whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom; but the midwives say, the children are not in the fault; whereupon the world increases, ard kindreds are mightily strengthened. Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is ? P. Hen. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? Poins. Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good thing. P. Hen. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell. P. Hen. Marry, I tell thee,—it is not meet that I should be sad, now my father is sick albeit I could tell to thee-as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend-I could be sad, and sad indeed too. Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject. P. Hen. By this hand, thou think 'st me as far in the devil's book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou art hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. Poins. The reason? P. Hen. What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. P. Hen. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never a man's thought in the world keeps the roadway better than thine: every man would think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to think so? Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so much engraffed to Falstaff. P. Hen. And to thee. Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it with mine own ears: the worst that they can say of me is, that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those |