P. Henry.
Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesht
Thy maiden sword.

Lan.
But soft! whom have we here?
Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?

P. Henry.
I did, I saw him dead,
And breathless on the ground.—Art thou alive,
Or is it fancy plays upon our eye-sight?
I pr'ythee, speak; we will not trust our eyes
Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal.

No, that's certain; I am not a * ^notedouble man; but if I am not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy, if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look either to be Earl or Duke, I can assure you.

P. Henry.

Why, Percy I kill'd myself, and saw thee dead.

Fal.

Did'st thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is giv'n to lying! I grant you, I was down, and out of breath, and so was he; but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believed, so; if not, let them, that should reward valour, bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take't on my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh; if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

Lan.
This is the strangest Tale that e'er I heard.

P. Henry.
This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back;
For my part, if a Lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have. [A retreat is sounded.
The trumpets sound retreat, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let's to th' highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead. [Exeunt.

Fal.

I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, heav'n reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a noble man should do.