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Host. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

Fal. What beast? Why, an otter.

Prince. An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?

Fal. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.

Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows

where to have me, thou knave, thou!

Prince. Thou say'st true, hostess, and he slanders thee most grossly.

Host. So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day you ought

him a thousand pound.

Prince. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? A million! Thy love is worth a million;

thou owest me thy love.

Host. Nay, my lord, he call'd you Jack and said he would cudgel you.

Fal. Did I, Bardolph?

Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

Fal. Yea. if he said my ring was copper.

Prince. I say, 'tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare; but as

thou art Prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.

Prince. And why not as the lion?

Fal. The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think

I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break.

Prince. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees!

But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in

this bosom of thine. It is all fill'd up with guts and midriff.

Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou

whoreson, impudent, emboss'd rascal, if there were anything in

thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy houses,

and one poor pennyworth of sugar candy to make thee

long-winded-

if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but

these, I

am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket

up wrong. Art thou not ashamed?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency

Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of

villany? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and

therefore more frailty. You confess then, you pick'd my pocket?

Prince. It appears so by the story.

Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready breakfast. Love thy

husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt

find me tractable to any honest reason. Thou seest I am pacified.

-Still?- Nay, prithee be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the

news at court. For the robbery, lad- how is that answered?

Prince. O my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee.

The money is paid back again.

Fal. O, I do not like that paying back! 'Tis a double labour.

Prince. I am good friends with my father, and may do anything.

Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it

with unwash'd hands too.

Bard. Do, my lord.

Prince. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

Fal. I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can

steal well? O for a fine thief of the age of two-and-twenty or

thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for

these rebels. They offend none but the virtuous. I laud them,

I

praise them.

Prince. Bardolph!

Bard. My lord?

Prince. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,

To my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.

[Exit Bardolph.]

Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou and I

Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

[Exit Poins.]

Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple Hall

At two o'clock in the afternoon.

There shalt thou know thy charge. and there receive

Money and order for their furniture.

The land is burning; Percy stands on high;

And either they or we must lower lie. [Exit.]

Fal. Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come.

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!

Exit.

ACT IV. Scene I. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter Harry Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.

Hot. Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth

In this fine age were not thought flattery,

Such attribution should the Douglas have

As not a soldier of this season's stamp