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Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the vil13 lains' throats: Ah! whoreson caterpillars! baconfed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.

Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for ever.

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves; are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would, your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ve knaves? young men must live: You are grand-jurors, are ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith.

[Here they rob and bind them. [Exeunt.
Enter Prince Henry, and Poins.

your house-He could be contented,-Why, is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house: -he shews in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. 5 The purpose you undertake, is dangerous,—Why, that's certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous; the 10 friends you have named, uncertain; the time self, unsorted; and your whole plottoo light, for the counterpoizeofsogreat an opposition--Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shalHow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this? By the Lord, our plot is a good plot, as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this? Why, my lord of 20 York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in anos by the ninth of the next month? and are they not, some of them, set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this? an infidel? Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimun'd milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king, we are prepared: Iwill set forward to-night.

25

P. Hen. The thieves have bound the true' men: Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a 30 week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for

ever.

Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming.

Enter Thieves again.

Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then 35 to horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild duck.

P. Hen. Your mon y.
Poins. Villains!

[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them. They all run azcay; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind him.]

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily

to horse:

The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear
So strongly, that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along :
Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd! [Exeunt.

SCENE III.
Warkworth. A room in the Castle.

40

Enter Lady Percy.

How now, Kate? I must leave you within these
two hours.

Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I, this fortnight, been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thes
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth;
45 And start so often, when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd,
50 And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars:
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed:
Cry, Courage-to the field! And thou hast talk's
Of sallies, and retires'; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
55 Of basilisks', of cannon, culverin;
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestir'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,

Enter Hotspur, reading a letter.
-But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be
Wellcontented to be there, in respect of the love I bear 60

The alms distributed at Lambeth palace gate is at this day called the dole. 2 i. e. fat and corpulent. i. e. honest. i. e. subject matter. Richard Scroop, archbishop of York. • The wife of Hotspur was the lady Elizabeth Mortimer, sister to Roger earl of March, who was declared presumptive heir to the crown by King Richard II. and aunt to Edmund earl of March, who is introduced in this play by the name of lord Mortimer. 7 retreats. i. e. forts.

sa cannon of a particular kind,

A basilisk
Like

Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream:
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portent-
are these?

Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.

Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet
gone?

Enter Servant.

Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.

Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from
the sheriff?

Sero. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot. What horse? a roan? a crop-ear, is it not:
Serv. It is, my lord.

Hot. That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!-
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. [Ex. Serv.
Lady. But hear you, my lord.
Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away?
Ho. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!

A weazle hath not such a deal of spleen,
As you are tost with.

[will.

In sooth, I'll know your business, Harry, that I
I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title: and hath sent for you,
To line his enterprize: But if you go

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I ask.
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
Hot. Away,

Away, you trifler! love? I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate; this is no world,
To play with mammets', and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too --Gods me, my horse!--
What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou have
with me?

Laly. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed:
Well, do not then; for, since you love me not,
It will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest, or no.

Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o' horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate:
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no further wise,
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are;
But yet a woman: and for secresy,
No lady closer; for I well believe,

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
Lady. How! so far?

Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:

2

5

10

15

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The Boar's-Head Tavern in East-Cheap.

Enter Prince Henry, and Poins.
P. Henry. Ned, pr'ythée, come out of that fat
room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little.
Poins. Where hast thou been, Hal?

P. Henry. With three or four loggerheads, a-
mongst three or four score hogsheads. I have
sounded the very base string of humility. Sirrah,
I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can
call them all by theirchristian names, as Tom, Dick,
and Francis. They take it already upon their sal-
vation, that, though I be but prince of Wales, yet
2011 am the king of courtesy; and tell me flatly, I
am no proud Jack, like Falstaff; but a Corin-
thian', a lad of mettle, a good boy,-by the Lord,.
so they call me; and, when I am king of England,
I shall command all the good lads in East Cheap,
25 They call-drinking deep, dying scarlet: and
when you breathe in your watering, they cry-
Hem! and bid you play it off.-To conclude, I
am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour,
that I can drink with any tinker in his own lan-
30 guage during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast
ost much honour, that thou wert not with me in
this action. But, sweet Ned,-to sweeten which
name of Ned, I give you this pennyworth of sugar,
clapt even now into my hand by an under-skrink-
35 er; one that never spake other English in his
life, than-eight shillings and sixpence, and-you
ire welcome; and with this shrill addition,—Anon,
ann, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon,
or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Fal-
staff come, I pr'ythee, do thou stand in some by-
room, while I question my puny drawer, to what
end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never
leave calling-Francis, that his tale to me may
be nothing but-anon. Step aside, and I'll shew
45 thee a precedent.
[Poins retires.

40

50

55

Poins. Francis!

P. Henry. Thou art perfect.
Poins. Francis!

Enter Francis.

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.-Look down into the Pomgranate, Ralph.

P. Henry. Come hither, Francis.

Fran. My lord.

P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as to--
Poins. Francis !

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Henry. Five years! by'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, dar'st 60 thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indenture, and shew it a fair pair of heels, and run from it?

'Puppets. Meaning, both crack'd money and broken head.. i. e. a wencher. under drawer.

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Fran.

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Fran. O lord, sir! I'll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heartPoins. Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Henry. How old art thou, Francis ?

Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I shall be

Poins. Francis!

Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, my lord.

P. Henry. Nay, but hark you, Francis: For the sugar thou gav'st me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't not?

Fran. O lord, sir! I would it had been two.

5

goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter Francis.] What's o'clock, Francis?

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is-up-stairs and down-stairs; his eloquence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hot-spur of the north; 10he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife,-Fie upon this quiet life! I want work. 0, my sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou kill'd to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, says

P. Henry. I will give thee for it a thousand 15 he; and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; «

pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

Poins. Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon.

P. Henry. Anon, Francis? No, Francis: but to- 20 morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,Fran. My lord?

P. Henry. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button', nott-pated', agat-ring, poké-stock-25 ing', caddice-garter, smooth tongue, Spanishpouch,

Fran. O lord, sir, what do you mean?

P. Henry. Why then, your brown bastard' is your only drink: for, look you, Francis, your 30 white canvas doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.

Fran. What, sir?
Poins. Francis!

P. Henry. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not 35

hear them call?

[Here they both call him; the drawer stands
amazed, not knowing which way to go.
Enter Vintner.

Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such 40
a calling? look to the guests within. [Ex. drawer.]
My lord, old Sir John, with half a dozen more, are
at the door; Shall I let them in?

P. Hen. Let them alone a while, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! Re-enter Poins.

Poins. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Henry. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door; Shall we be merry?

trifle; a trifle. I pr'y thee, call in Falstaff; I'll
play Percy, and that damn'd brawn shall play
dame Mortimer his wife. Rico', says the drunk-
lark.
Call in ribs, call in tallow.

Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto. Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!--Give me a cup of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks', and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks.

P. Henry. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun? if thou didst, then behold that compound.

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too": There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward.-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then I am a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhang'd in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would I were a weaver; I could sing all manner of songs'. A plague of all cowards, I say still!

P. Henry. How now, wool-sack? what mutter 45 you?

Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark 50 ye; ; What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue?

P. Henry. I am now of all humours, that have shew'd themselves humours, since the old days of

1

Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath', and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more.You Prince of Wales!

P. Henry. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter?

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? [To Poins.

A leather jerkin with crystal buttons was the habit of a pawn-broker. nott-puted, when the hair was cut short and round. 3 Black-stocking.

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coarse ferret. The garters of Shakspeare's time were worn in sight, and consequently were expensive. He who would submit to wear a coarser sort, was probably called by this contemptuous distinction. Bastard was a kind of sweet wine. The prince finding the waiter not able, and not willing, to understand his instigation, puzzles him with unconnected prattle, and drives him away. • A cant word of the English taverns of those times, expressive of no meaning. Nether stocks are stockings. See note', p. 49. ? Warburton observes, that in the persecution of the protestants in Flanders under Philip II. those who came over irto England on that occasion brought with them the woollen manufactory. These were Calvinists, who were always distinguished for their love of psalmody. stich a dagger as the Fice in the old moralities was arm'd with.

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Act 2. Scene 4.]

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

P.Henry. Ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buck-
ram let drive at me,-
I'll stab thee.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damn'd ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run fast as thou canst.

You 5

are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that, backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me.-Give me a cup of sack:-I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day.

P. Henry. O villain! thy lips are scarce wip'd since thou drunk'st last.

Ful. All's one for that A plague of all coward [He drinks. still say I!

P. Henry. What's the matter?

Fal. What's the matter? Here be four of us have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.

P. Henry. Where is it, Jack? where is it? Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Henry. What, a hundred, man?

10

15

P. Henry. What, four? thou saidst but two,

'ven now.

Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four.

Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.

Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus.

P. Henry. Seven; why, there were but four,

even now.

Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits.

Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. P. Henry. Prythee let him alone; we shall have more anon.

Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

P. Henry, Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
Ful. Do so, for it is worth the list'ning to.
20 These nine in buckram, that I told thee of,-
P. Henry. So, two more already.
Fal. Their points being broken,-
Poins. Down fell their hose'.

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword
with a dozen of them two hours together. I have
'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times thrust through
the doublet; four through the hose; my buckler 25
cut through and through; my sword hack'd like a
hand-saw, ecce signum. Í never dealt better since
I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all
cowards!-Let them speak: if they speak more
or less than truth, they are villains, and the sons 30
of darkness.

P. Henry. Speak, sirs; How was it?
Gads. We four set upon some dozen,-
Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord.
Gads. And bound them.

Peto. No, no, they were not bound.

Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us,

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then came in the other.

Fal. Began to give me ground: But I follow'd me close, came-in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I pay'd.

P. Henry. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two.

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green2, came at my back, and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

P. Henry. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. 35 Why, thou clay-brain'd guts; thou knotty-pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallowkeech',

40

P. Henry. What, fought you with them all? Fal. All I know not what you call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of 45 radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legg'd

creature.

Poins. Pray heaven, you have not murder'd some of them.

50

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

P. Henry. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou could'st not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason; What say'st thou to this?

Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion, Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

P. Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh;

Fal. Nay, that's past praying for; I have pepper'd two of them: two, I am sure, I have pay'd two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou know'st my old ward;—here I lay,[55]dry'd neat's-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish,

4

Our author here plays upon the double meaning of point, which signifies the sharp end of a weapon, and the lace of a garment. To untruss a point, is a phrase still in use for the operation of easing nature. 2 Kendal green was the livery of Robert earl of Huntingdon and his followers while in a state of outlawry, A keech of tallow is the fat of an ox or cow rolled and their leader assumed the title of Robin Hood. up by the butcher in a round lump, in order to be carried to the chandler. For elf skin Sir Thomas Hanmer and Dr. Warburton read eel-skin; and in our opinion justly; as Shakspeare, in this and his ensuing comparisons of the stock-fish and dry'd neat's tongue, alludes to the leanness of the prince, for which he had historical authority: the prince of Wales being represented by Stowe to have exceeded the mean stature of men, his neck long, body slender and lean, and bones small, &c."

66

O, for

O, for breath to utter what is like thee!-you] taylor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck

P. Henry. Well, breathe a while, and then to it again: and when thou hast tir'd thyself in base 5 comparisons, hear me speak but this.

Poins. Mark, Jack.

10

P. Henry. We two saw you four set on four;| you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. -Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four; and, with a word, out-fac'd you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can shew it you here in the house :—and, Falstaff, you carry'd your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roar'd for mercy, and still ran and roar`d, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in fight? What trick, what device, what starting hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent 20 shame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now?

Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
P. Henry. Tell me now in earnest, How came
Falstaff's sword so hack'd?

Peto. Why, he hack'd it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like.

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass, to make them bleed; and then to beskubber our garments with it, and swear it was the blood of true men. I did that i did not these seven years before, I blush'd to hear his mon-trous devices.

P. Henry. O villain, thou stol'st a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the man15ner, and ever since thou hast blush'd extempore: ihou hadst fire' and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it? Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for 25 me, to kill the heir apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou know'st, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think 30 the better of myself and thee, during my life; 1, for a valiant lion, and thou, for a true prince. But, lads, I am glad you have the money.- -Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-mor row.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the 35 titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore?

P. Henry. Content ;-and the argument shall be thy running away.

[me.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lov'st 40
Enter Hostess.

Host. My lord the prince,

P. Henry. How now, my lady the hostess? what

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P. Henry. I do.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Henry. Hot livers, and cold purses'.
Bard. Choler', my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Henry. No, if rightly taken, halter.
Re-enter Falstaff.

Here comes lean Jack,here comes bare-bone. How
now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long
s't ago, Jack, since thou saw'st thine own knee?

Fal. My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into an alderman's thumbring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: here was Sir John Braby from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado,and made Luciter cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook”,— What, a plague, call you him

Poins. O, Glendower.

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P. Henri. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.

P. Henry. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to raise him so or running?

Fal. O'horseback, ye cuckow! but, a-foot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Henry. Yes, Jack, upon instinct.

Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue

A kind of jest seems to be intended here. The royal went for 10s.--the noble only for 6s. honest. This is a law phrase, signifying taken in the fact. Alluding to his rl face. drunkenness and poverty. A pun upon the similarity of sound between collar and choler. is the stuffing of cloaths. The custom of wearing a ring on the thumb is very ancient. hook appears to have been some instrument of the offensive kind.

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