yet a coward is worse than a cup of fack with lime in it; a villainous coward-Go thy ways, old Jack, die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a fhotten herring. There, live not three good men unhang'd in England, and one of them is fat, and grows old, God help, the while! a bad world; I fay. I would, I were a weaver; I could fing all manner of fongs.-A plague on all cowards, I say still!

P. Henry. How now, Woolfack, what mutter you? Fal. A King's fon! if I do not beat thee out of thy Kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy Subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geefe, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! P. Henry. Why, you whorfon round man! what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that, and Poins there? [To Poins. P. Henry. Ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll ftab thee.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll fee thee damn'd ere I call thee coward; but I would give a thousand pound I could run as faft as thou canft. You are strait

6 I would, I were a weaver; I could fing pfalms, &c.] In the perfecutions of the proteftants in Flanders under Philip II. thofe who came over into England on that occafion, brought with them the woollen manufactory. These were Calvinifts, who were always diftinguished for their love of pfalmody.

WARBURTON. In the first editions the paffage is read thus, I could fing pfalms or any thing. In the first folio thus, I could fing all manner of fings. Many expreflions bordering on indecency are found in the first editions, which are after

wards corrected. The reading
of the three last editions, I could
fing pfalms and all manner of fongs,
is made without authority out
of different copies.

I believe nothing more is here
meant than to allude to the prac-
tice of weavers, who having
their hands more employed than
their minds, amufe themfelves
frequently with fongs at the loom.
The knight, being full of vexa-
tion, wishes he could fing to di-
vert his thoughts.

Weavers are mentioned as lovers of mufick in the Merchant. of Venice. Perhaps to fing like a Weaver might be proverbial.

enough

enough in the shoulders, you care not who fees your back. Call you that backing of your friends? a plague upon fuch backing! give me them that will face meGive me a cup of fack; I am a rogue, if I drunk to day.

P. Henry. O villain, thy lips are scarce wip'd fince thou drunk'ft laft.

Fal. All's one for that.

A plague on all cowards, ftill, fay I!

P. Henry. What's the matter?

[He drinks.

Fal. What's the matter! here be four of us, have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.

P. Henry. Where is it, Jack? where is it?

Fal. Where is it? taken from us, it is. A hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Henry. What a hundred, man?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-fword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have efcap'd by miracle. I am eight times thruft through the doublet, four through the hofe, my buckler cut through and through, my fword hack'd like a hand-faw, ecce fignum. [Shows his fword.] I never dealt better fince I was a man. All would not do. A plague on all cowards! -Let them fpeak; if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the fons of darkness. P. Henry. Speak, Sirs, how was it? Gads. We four fet upon fome dozen. Fal. Sixteen, at leaft, my lord. Gads. And bound them.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound.

Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them, or I am a few elfe, an Ebrew Jew.

Gads. As we were fharing, fome fix or seven fresh men fet

upon us.

Fal. And unbound the reft, and then came in the other.

P. Henry. What, fought ye with them all?

Fal. All? I know not, what ye call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor Jack, then am I no two-legg'd creature.

old

Poins. Pray heav'n, you have not murthered fome of them.

Fal. Nay, that's past praying for. I have pepper'd two of them; two, I am fure, I have pay'd, two rogues in buckram fuits. I tell thee what, Hal; If I tell thee a lie, fpit in my face, call me horfe. Thou know'it my old ward; here I lay, and thus I bore my point; four rogues in buckram let drive at me.

P. Henry. What four? thou faidft but two, even

now.

Fal. Four, Hal, I told thee four.

Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.

Fal. Thefe four came all a front, and mainly thrust at me; I made no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus.

P. Henry. Seven, why there were but four, even

now.

Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram fuits.

Fal. Seven, by thefe hilts, or I am a villain elfe.
P. Henry. Pr'ythee let him alone, we fhall have

more anon.

Fal. Doft thou hear me, Hal?

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

Fal. Do fo, for it is worth the liftning to. Thefe nine in buckram, that I told the of

P. Henry. So, two more already.
Fal. Their points being broken
Poins. Down fell his hofe.

7 Their joints being broken-membered, which fignifies the down fell his hofe.] To under- fharp end of a weapon, and the fland Poins's joke the double lace of a garment,

meaning of joint must be re

Fal.

Fal. Began to give me ground; but I follow'd me clofe, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I pay'd.

P. Henry. O monstrous ! eleven buckram men grown

out of two!

Fal. But as the devil would have it, three mif-begotten knaves in Kendal green came at my back, and let drive at me; (for it was fo dark, Hal, that thou couldît not fee thy hand.)

P. Henry. Thefe lies are like the father that begets them, grofs as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brain'd guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whorfon obfcene greafie tallow-catch

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

P. Henry. Why, how could'ft thou know thefe men in Kendal green, when it was fo dark, thou could'ft not fee thy hand? come, tell us your reason: what say'st thou to this?

Poins. Come, your reafon, Jack, your reason.

Fal. What, upon compulfion? no; were I at the ftrappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulfion. Give you a reason on compulfion! if reasons were as plenty as black-berries, I would give no man a reafon upon compulfion-I!

P. Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this fin. This fanguine coward, this bed-preffer, this horfe-backbreaker, this huge hill of flefh,

Fal. Away, you ftarveling, you elf-fkin, you

dry'd neats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish-O for breath to utter what is like thee-You taylor's yard, you -fheath, you bow-cafe, you vile standing tuck,-

P.Henry. Well, breathe a while, and then to't again; and when thou haft tir'd thyself in bafe comparisons, hear me fpeak but this.

Poins. Mark, Jack.

P. Henry. We two faw you four set on four, you bound them, and were mafters of their wealth.-Mark now, how a plain tale fhall put you down.-Then did we two fet on you four, and with a word, out-fac'd you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can fhew it you here in the houfe. And, Falstaff, you carry'd your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roar'd for mercy, and ftill ran and roar'd, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a flave art thou to hack thy fword as thou haft done, and then fay it was in fight! What trick? what device? what starting hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent fhame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack: what trick haft thou now?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my mafters; was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true Prince? Why, thou knoweft, I am as valiant as Hercules; but beware inftinct, the Lion will not touch the true Prince. Inftinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I fhall think the better of myself, and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant Lion, and thou for a true Prince. But, by the lord, lads, I am glad you have the mony. Hoftefs, clap to the doors; watch to night, pray to morrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, fhall we be merry? fhall we have a play extempore?

VOL. IV.

M

P. Henry.