Fal.

Hal, if thou see me down in the battel, and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

P. Henry.

Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that friendship: Say thy prayers, and farewel.

Fal.

I would it were bed time, Hal, and all well.

P. Henry.

Why, thou owest heav'n a death.

Fal.

'Tis not due yet: I would be loth to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? well, 'tis no matter, honour pricks me on. But how if honour prick me off when I come on? &plquo;how then? can honour set to a leg? no. or an arm? no. or take away the grief of a wound? no. honour hath no skill in surgery then? no. What is honour? a word. what is that word honour? Air; a trim reckoning. who hath it? he that dy'd a Wednesday. doth he feel it? no. doth he hear it? no. is it insensible then? yea, to the dead. but will it not live with the living? no. why? Detraction will not suffer it, therefore I'll none of it. honour is a meer scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.&prquo;