Fal.

How now, lad? is the wind in that door? must we all march?

Bard.

Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

Host.

My lord, I pray you hear me.

P. Henry.

What say'st thou, Mistress Quickly? how does thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest man.

Host.

Good, my lord, hear me.

Fal.

Pr'ythee let her alone, and list to me.

P. Henry.

What say'st thou, Jack?

Fal.

The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket pickt: this house is turn'd bawdy-house, they pick pockets.

P. Henry.

What didst thou lose, Jack?

Fal.

Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grand-father's.

P. Henry.

A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

Host.

So I told him, my lord; and I said, I heard your grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is, and said he would cudgel you.

P. Henry.

What! he did not?

Host.

There's neither faith, truth, nor woman-hood in me else.

Fal.

There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd pruen; no more truth in thee than in a drawn Fox; and for woman-hood, Maid-Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go you thing, go.

Host.

Say, what thing? what thing?

Fal.

What thing? why a thing to thank God on.

Host.

I am nothing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it: I am an honest man's wife; and setting thy knight-hood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

Fal.

Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

Host.

Say, what beast, thou knave thou?

Fal.

What beast? why an Otter.

P. Henry.

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.

P. Henry.

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

Host.

So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day, you ow'd him a thousand pound.

P. Henry.

Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Fal.

A thousand pound, Hal? a million; thy love is worth a million: thou ow'st 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.

P. Henry.

I say 'tis copper. Dar'st thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal.

Why, Hal, thou know'st, as thou art but a man I dare; but as thou art a Prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the Lion's whelp.

P. Henry.

And why not as the Lion?

Fal.

The King himself is to be fear'd as the Lion; do'st thou think I'll fear thee, as I fear thy father? nay, if I do, let my Girdle break.

P. Henry.

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 whorson, impudent, imbost rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, Memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth 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 wrongs. Art thou not asham'd?

Fal.

Dost thou hear, Hal? thou know'st in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villainy? thou seest, I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then you pickt my pocket?

P. Henry.

It appears so by the story.

Fal.

Hostess, I forgive thee: go make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, and cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest, I am

pacify'd still. Nay, I pr'ythee be gone.

Now, Hal, to the news at court for the robbery, lad: how is that answer'd?

P. Henry.

O my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee. The mony is paid back again.

Fal.

O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour.

P. Henry.

I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

Fal.

Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou do'st, and do it with unwash'd hands too.

Bard.

Do, my lord.

P. Henry.

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 two and twenty, or thereabout; I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous. I laud them, I praise them.

P. Henry.

Bardolph.

Bard.

My lord.

P. Henry.

Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancaster, to my brother John. This to my lord of Westmorland, go Peto, to horse; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-Hall at two a clock in the afternoon, there shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive mony and order for their furniture.

Fal.
Rare words! brave world! hostess, my breakfast, come:
Oh, I could wish this tavern were my drum! [Exeunt.

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