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Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
West. It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
CO2, Of this young Percy's pride ? the prisoners, Which he, in this adventure, hath surpris'd, To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, I shall have none but Mordake, Earl of Fife. West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worces
ter, Malevolent to you, in all aspects.
K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this; And, for this cause, awhile, we must neglect Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
[Rises. Cousin, on Wednesday next, our council we Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords : But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said, and to be done,
Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.—[Exeunt.
An Apartment belonging to the PRINCE OF WALES.
Enter HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, and Sir John
Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad ?
P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast for: gotten to demand that truly, which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds; I see no reason, why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now,
Hal: for weg that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phæbus,--he, that wand'ring knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, Heaven save thy grace, inajesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,
P. Hen. What! none?
Fal. No, by my troth ; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.
P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.
Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the
moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress, the moon; under whose countenance
-steal. P. Hen. Thou say’st well: and it holds well too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying-bring in: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
Fal. By the lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is Dot my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
Fal. How now, how now, mad wag ? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?
P. Hen. Why, what a plague have I to do with my hostess of the taveru?
Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part ?
Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch ; and, where it would not, I have used
Fal. Yea, and so used it, that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,--But, I pr’ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic, the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
P. Hen. No; thou shalt.
Fal. Shall Ii O rare! By the lord, I'll be a brave judge!
P. Hen. Thou judgest false, already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort, it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.
P. Hen. For obtaining of suits?
Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits; whereof, the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear.
P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute.
P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor Ditch ?
Fål. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,-sweet young prince,-But, Hal, I pr’ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to Heaven thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day, in the street, about you, sir, but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,-Heaven forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the lord, an I do not, I am a villain ! I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.
P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?
Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.
P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking.
Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal ; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.
Enter Poins, P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned.
Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-and Sugar? But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gads Hill,---There are pilgrims going to Canterbury, with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester ; I have bespoke supper in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep; if you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns: if you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged.
Fal. Hear ye, Yedward ; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going.
Poins. You will, chops?
P. Hen. Who, I rob? Ia thief? not I, by my faith.
Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee; nor thou cain'st not of the blood royal, if thou dar’st not stand for ten sbillings.
P. Hen. Well then, once in my days, I'll be a madсар.
Fal. Why, that's well said.
Fal. By the lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.