P. Hen. Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in buckram that I told thee of

P. Hen. So, two more already.

Fal. Their points being broken,

Poins. Down fell their hose.

Fal. Began to give me ground: But I followed me close, came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green came at my back, and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them ; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained paunch, thou nott-pated fool, thou obscene, greasy tallowkeech,

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth?

P. Hen. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason; what sayest thou to this? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse'-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh,

Fal. Away, you starveling, you eel-skin, you dried neat'stongue, you stock-fish,-O for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck,

P. Hen. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.

Poins. Mark, Jack.

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and were masters of their wealth.-Mark now how a plain tale shall put you down.―Then did we two set on you four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your paunch away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack: What trick hast thou now? Fal. By the powers, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: was it for me to kill the heirapparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the powers, lads, I am glad you have the money.-Hostess, clap to the doors [To Hostess within]; watch to-night, pray to-morrow.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play

extempore?

P. Hen. Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.

NOTES.

Stock, article of dress for neck or legs. Here 'nether-stocks' are our 'stockings.'

Titan, the sun; a frequent substitution in the Latin poets.

Shotten herring: a herring that has shot, cast, or thrown forth its

spawn, and consequently is thin or
slim.

The while, the time.
Weaver ... sing psalms. To comfort
his noble soul in these degenerate
times. A reference to the Puritans.
Ecce signum! 'behold the token.' Fal-

MURDER RELENTING.

(From King John, Act IV., Scene i.)

SCENE. A Room in a Castle.

Enter HUBERT and Attendants.

Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and look you stand Within the arras: when I strike my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,

And bind the boy which you shall find with me

Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.
First Attend. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you look to 't.—

[Exeunt Attendants.

Young lad, come forth: I have to say with you.

Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow,

Hubert.

Hub.

Good morrow, little prince.

10

Arth. As little prince, having so great a title To be more prince, as may be.-You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Mercy on me!

Arth.
Methinks nobody should be sad but I:
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me :

He is afraid of me, and I of him :

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ?

No, indeed, 'tis not; and I would to Heaven

I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.

15

20

Hub. (aside). If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 25 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead :

Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day :

In sooth, I would you were a little sick;

That I might sit all night and watch with you:

I warrant I love you more than you do me.

30

Hub. (aside). His words do take possession of my bosom.— Read here, young Arthur.

[Shewing a paper.

(Aside.) How now, foolish rheum !

Turning dispiteous torture out of door!

I must be brief, lest resolution drop
Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.

you

Can
Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect:
Must

not read it? is it not fair writ?

you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must.

35

Arth.

Hub.

And will you?

And I will.

40

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,

I knit my handkercher about your brows,

· (The best I had, a princess wrought it me), And I did never ask it you again;

And with my hand at midnight held your head;

45

And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,

Still and anon cheered up the heavy time,

Saying 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
Or 'What good love may I perform for you ?'
Many a poor man's son would have lien still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning; do, an if you will.

If Heaven be pleased that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes that never did nor never shall

So much as frown on you?

Hub.

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

50

55

I have sworn to do it;

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it!

60

The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench his fiery indignation

Even in the water of mine innocence;

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,

65

But for containing fire to harm mine eyes.

Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron?
An if an angel should have come to me,

And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,

I would not have believed him,-no tongue but Hubert's.
Hub. Come forth.

Re-enter Attendants, with Cord, Irons, &c.

Do as I bid you do.

Arth. O save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.

[Stamps.