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thee a precedent.

Poins. Francis!

Prince. Thou art perfect.

Poins. Francis! [Exit Poins.]

Enter [Francis, a] Drawer.

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.- Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.

Prince. Come hither, Francis.

Fran. My lord?

Prince. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?

Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-

Poins. [within] Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

Prince. Five year! by'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of

Pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the

coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels and run from it?

Fran. O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in England

I

could find in my heart-

Poins. [within] Francis!

Fran. Anon, sir.

Prince. How old art thou, Francis?

Fran. Let me see. About Michaelmas next I shall be-

Poins. [within] Francis!

Fran. Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.

Prince. Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest

me-

'twas a pennyworth, wast not?

Fran. O Lord! I would it had been two!

Prince. I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask me when thou

wilt, and, thou shalt have it.

Poins. [within] Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon.

Prince. Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; or,

Francis, a Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But

Francis-

Fran. My lord?

Prince. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,

not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,

smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch-

Fran. O Lord, sir, who do you mean?

Prince. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink; for look

you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. In Barbary,

sir, it cannot come to so much.

Fran. What, sir?

Poins. [within] Francis!

Prince. Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them call?

Here they both call him. The Drawer stands amazed,

not knowing which way to go.

Enter Vintner.

Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling?

Look

to the guests within. [Exit Francis.] My lord, old Sir John, with

half-a-dozen more, are at the door. Shall I let them in?

Prince. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.

[Exit Vintner.]

Poins!

Poins. [within] Anon, anon, sir.

Enter Poins.

Prince. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the

door. Shall we be merry?

Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what cunning

match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come,

what's the issue?

Prince. I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours

since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this

present this twelve o'clock at midnight.

[Enter Francis.]

What's o'clock, Francis?

Fran. Anon, anon, sir. [Exit.]

Prince. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a

parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs and

downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet

of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some

six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and

says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.' 'O my

sweet Harry,' says she, 'how many hast thou kill'd to-day?'

'Give my roan horse a drench,' says he, and answers 'Some

fourteen,' an hour after, 'a trifle, a trifle.' I prithee call in

Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damn'd brawn shall play Dame

Mortimer his wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs,

call in tallow.

Enter Falstaff, [Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto;

Francis follows with wine].

Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! Marry and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? He drinketh. Prince. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? Pitiful-hearted butter, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! If thou didst, then behold that compound. Fal. You rogue, here's lime