Fal.

Come, fill me another glass, Bardolph. Where are the women?

Bar.

They are gone home, Sir John, that they may get ready to attend your honour in the evening. They went away while you was asleep.

Fal.

Come on then, drink; we will empty the flask, and follow. Here's to our better fortune.

Bar.

Ah, Sir John, I am afeard our fortune hath been at its highest flood. We have seen our best days.

Fal.

So the world goes Bardolph. Up and down! But is it not hard now? I that have—but that's nothing. I hate boasting. It is, however, well known what pains I have taken to make a man of that Hal. Nay, you yourself are privy to many the good offices I have done him. Before the younker knew me, he knew nothing. The sneak-cup could not drink sack; made conscience of going to church on holidays; and blush'd like a scarlet cloak, at entering a bawdy-house. Then he made a poor hand at

cards and dice, and was a mere novice, a very noodle, at a robbery on the highway. I instructed him in all these manly exercises. I was content to win his money, to teach him gaming: to get drunk myself to make him so: to teach him sabbath-breaking by going ever to the church with a chimney in it,—the tavern. And then, again, mercy on this round body of mine! how have I been pox'd to teach his smock-face whoring! Nay, setting rotten limbs and dignity aside, have I not even pimp'd for the bashful rogue? Such a prince of Wales! by my troth I was asham'd of him. Had it not been for me, the milk-sop might have been crown'd before he had lost his maiden-head.

Bar.

And that would have been a pity, Sir John, to be sure.

Fal.

It was I first taught him to way-lay the true-man; for I knew him when he durst not cry stand to a turkey-cock; nay, a gander, of the ordinary size of a green-goose, had it met him on a common, would have made him run for it: and yet I would have so case-harden'd him, that he might have robb'd his father's exchequer. But the toast-and-butter would not learn. I went further yet; and would not only have embolden'd his actions, but have taught him the manly arts of conversation. In the stile military, for instance, or swearing.—

Bar.

Sir John, I believe, there you forget yourself; the prince wanted no assistance of you in that; for when he was a crack no higher than this, he would swear ye as well as a man six foot high.

Fal.

Right, Bardolph, you are right. I remember me; swearing indeed he knew: for, tho' but a king's son, he would, as thou say'st, rap out an oath like an emperor. But then for the quintessence of all elocution, the use of the hyperbole, vulgarly call'd lying; there I am a master, yet what a deal of pains it hath cost me to teach Hal to lie; and all thrown away upon him. He would never do it roundly. He had no genius that way.

Bar.

You know, Sir John, the prince never could away with lying. He us'd to say 'twas beneath a gentleman and a soldier.

Fal.

Well, well, he will never shine in the recital of his own exploits as Xenophon, Cæsar, and I have done.

Bar.

Why, Sir John, to be sure, you have done something.

Fal.

Something! the services I have done him and his father are out of number. Methinks my behaviour, in the ever memorable action at Shrewsbury, should make him blush at his ingratitude. Who kill'd Hotspur? Did not I give him his death's wound in the thigh? Was it not I who took prisoner that fiery dragon Coleville? and that even alive! And am I thus requited? Is this the guerdon of my great atchievements? Hang valour, I'll hack my sword no more. Thus has it ever been the fate of merit to be rewarded. Alcibiades and Bellisarius for that!

Bar.

Ay, Sir John, they were tall fellows: they were sadly us'd indeed: I have heard of them. But that was in king John's time, I think.

Fal.

They were the Falstaffs of antiquity, Bardolph.

Bar.

Like enough, Sir John: they were before my time, to be sure; though Pistol told me, t'other day, that general Bellisarius was his god-father.

Fal.

Pistol is an ignorant braggard; an ass: I have injur'd my dignity by associating with rascals, not worthy to wait at my heels. What tell'st thou me of Pistol?

Bar.

Nay, Sir John, I meant no harm. I do think you deserve to be made a lord of indeed.

Fal.

A lord! I expected to have been made nothing less than an earl or a duke, I can assure ye. And then, for my well-known œconomy, to have had the sole management of the exchequer, at least.

Bar.

And instead of that to be banish'd—

Fal.

I know not if I heard the word banish. I was forbidden indeed to come near the king's person by ten miles; but I was not at that distance when those injunctions were laid on me. Quere now (it might pose a casuist let me tell ye) whether I am thereby injoin'd to march right out, ten miles an end; whether the negative, not come, amounts to the positive, go.—I will not understand it so; and, if that be my Lord-chief-justice's construction, by the Lord, I will put him to the trouble of carrying of me: I will be laid up with the gout ere I budge a foot.

Bar.

Indeed, Sir John, the king did say, banish.

Fal.

Admit it: unless he means to reside for ever in a place, and be in his own proper person as immoveable as a church, I hold my life on a damn'd precarious tenure. He must give me timely notice of his motions, that I may regulate mine accordingly; otherwise, if he be travelling my way, we may happen to encounter, and I get myself hang'd through inadvertency. I do not think it safe, therefore, to stir out of town, without more explicit orders. Fill me another glass.

Bar.

The flask is out, Sir John.

Fal.

Out! we have no longer any business here, then. Pay the drawer, Bardolph, and come along.