Do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have search'd, I have inquir'd, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.

Fal. You lie, Hostess: Bardolph was shav'd, and lost many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was pick'd. Go to, you are a woman; go.

Host. Who, I? No. I defy thee: God's light! I was never call'd so in mine own house before. Go to; I know you well enough.

Fal.
Host.

:

No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.

Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made bolters

of them.

Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and twenty pound.

Fal. He had his part of it: let him pay.

Host. He? alas! he is poor: he hath nothing. Fal. How poor look upon his face; what call you rich let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks. I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.

Host. O Jesu! I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper.

Fal. How the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup; ['Sblood!] an if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so.

Enter Prince HENRY and POINTZ, marching.

FAL

STAFF meets the Prince, playing on his truncheon, like a fife.

How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith? must we all march?

Bard.

Yea, two and two, Newgate-fashion.

Host. My lord, I pray you hear me.

P. Hen. 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. Hen. What say'st thou, Jack?

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

P. Hen. 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 grandfather's.

P. Hen. 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. Hen. What! he did not.

Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

Fal. There's no more faith in thee than a stew'd prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, 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 no thing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it: I am an honest man's wife; and, setting thy knighthood 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. Hen. 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. Hen. Thou sayest true, Hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.

Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you ought him a thousand pound.

P. Hen. 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. Hen. I say 'tis copper: dar'st thou be as good as thy word now?

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

P. Hen. And why not as the lion?

Fal. The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Do'st thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break!

P. Hen. 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 fill'd up with guts and midriff.

Charge an honest
Why, thou whore-

woman with picking thy pocket! son, impudent, emboss'd rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of sugarcandy 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 wrong. Art thou not asham'd?

:

Fal. Do'st 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 pick'd my pocket?

P. Hen. It appears so by the story.

Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee. Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest I am pacified. Still? -Nay, pr'ythee, begone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at Court: for the robbery, lad, - how is that answered?

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

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

P. Hen. 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. Hen. 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 the age of two-and-twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels! they offend none but the virtuous: I laud them, I praise them.

P. Hen. Bardolph!

Bard. My lord.

P. Hen. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.-[Exit BARDOLPH.] Go, Pointz, to horse, to horse! for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. [Exit POINTZ.] Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-hall at two o'clock in the afternoon there shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive money and order for their furniture. The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum. [Exit.