naked weapons.

alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your [Exeunt BARDOLPH and PISTOL. Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah! you whoreson little valiant villain, you.

Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought 'a made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Re-enter BARDOLPH

Fal. Have you turned him out o' doors? Bard. Yes, sir: the rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal, to brave me!

Doll. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops :-ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee: thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the Nine Worthies: ah, villain?

Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue a blanket.

in

Doll. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.

Enter Music

Page. The music is come, sir.

Fal. Let them play-play, sirs.-Sit on my knee, Doll.-A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver.

Doll. I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

Enter behind, Prince HENRY and POINS,
disguised like Drawers

Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's head; do not bid me remember mine end.

Doll. Sirrah, what humour is the prince of?

Fal. A good shallow young fellow: 'a would have made a good pantler, 'a would ha' chipped bread well.

Doll. They say, Poins has a good wit.

Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet.

Doll. Why does the prince love him so, then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness; and 'a plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap

dragons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon joint-stools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other gambol faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois.

P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off!

Poins. Let's beat him before his whore.

P. Hen. Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot.

Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many years outlive performance ?

Fal. Kiss me, Doll.

P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction what says the almanac to that?

Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper.

Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses.

Doll. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

Fal. I am old, I am old.

Doll. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all.

Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money o' Thursday; shalt have a cap tomorrow. A merry song, come: it grows late; we'll to bed. Thou 'lt forget me, when I am

gone.

Doll. By my troth, thou'lt set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.-Well, hearken the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis!

P. Hen., Poins. Anon, anon, sir.

[Advancing.

Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's.--And art not thou Poins his brother?

P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead !

Fal. A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.

P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London.-Now, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,

-by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art [Leaning his hand upon DOLL.

welcome.

Doll. How, you fat fool! I scorn you.

Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

Host. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gadshill: you knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose to try my patience.

Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.

P. Hen. I shall drive you, then, to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you.

Fal. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse. P. Hen. Not!-to dispraise me, and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal.

Poins. No abuse !

Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' the world: honest Ned,